Muscle milk

by MaxMorphs   

That new muscle drink in the gym vending machine does wonders for your pecs, though maybe not in the way you expect.

Everything was going as planned and I couldn’t be happier about it.

I had entered the gym in my costume, dressed as a delivery guy, carrying the package with the little cups that looked like yogurt under my arm. The minion behind the gym counter had been working here only since Wednesday of the previous week. He thought that me entering, with a box of supplements for the gym-goers, was something completely natural. I greeted him, and he looked up for a second, then went on scrolling through Facebook, while working.

I dumped my secret cargo next to the big vending machine in the men’s locker room and then started to open it with a key I had purchased online. There was an empty compartment, and so I started stacking it with my little cups. They looked pretty plain; you would probably just ignore them, if you searched for something delicious, with a lot of protein in it. Luckily, my plan went further.

After storing eight of my muscle milk samples, I closed the machine and looked around the locker room for my first “victim”. There he was. I had hoped for him to be here, and there he was! Bulky as fuck, wearing leggings that were close to tearing, and a spandex shirt that showed his meaty pecs and puffy nipples. He was finished getting dressed for the day in the gym. His face was covered by a trimmed beard, and so I saw that he was smiling at me very late. He came to me, waddling because of his massive thighs that shoved against each other with every step. His round bulge was on full display, because of his leggings.

“I wondered who stacks this baby up all the time. Now I know who.”

His voice was so deep and he was pretty much towering over me. His shadow lingered over my puny frame. While talking, his pecs jumped a few times, and I wondered if he noticed it anymore. I was salivating from watching those meaty sacks bobbing up and down. Then, I remembered why I was there.

“Yeah, it’s me. I was just loading in these new drinks. It’s the newest shit from Japan,” I lied, and then gave the last one I had prepared for this very circumstance. The Japanese symbols on the cover of the little yogurt box were just gibberish, but he bought it immediately.

“What does it say?” he asked, with a playful smile.

“Something like muscle milk? But I don’t speak Japanese so who knows. You can drink it pre- training. It’s pretty good!”

He wanted to go back to his locker and search for a dollar or two, but I stopped him. “Nah, it’s free. If you want more, you know where the vending machine is.”

“Thank you, man. Very nice of you! I hope this stuff rocks!”

He opened the lid and found the white gooey liquid inside. It was thick, and reminded the bodybuilder of white wall paint. He smelled it, and I held my breath in anticipation. Thank God, he smiled! He threw his head back and gulped the whole carton down. At the end, he showed a milksop, and licked the rest from his thick lips. Even his tongue looked huge.

“That was tasty, man. I think my training will be wonderful today.”

Even though we were strangers, he gave me a bear hug, and my head disappeared in his already engorged chest. I tried to encompass him with my hands, but he was just too big. Seconds later, he let me go and waddled out through the door. Without anybody noticing, I started following him through the gym.

Under the uncovering lights of the big halls, he looked buffer already. His thighs, pecs, arms, lats, and gut looked rounder and fuller, and he smiled at himself in the panorama mirrors. He started his workout on the treadmill, and seeing him running was a little dream come true. The immense power that was necessary to move this mountain of muscle forward was breathtaking. His chest bobbed up and down, with every step, and my muscle milk added to that. After ten minutes of running with heavy thumps, he was sweat soaked and stepped off. He wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, exposing the hairy trail on his roid gut to the world (me). Shit, this guy must have been on steroids for ten years now, and the muscle milk wasn’t helping the fact that his gut was round, bulging, and incredibly huge, with his meaty pecs laying on it. There were two wet spots where his nipples shined through, and he looked a bit puzzled about it. But he just kept going and probably thought it was sweat. I knew, however, that the production of muscle milk had already begun.

After one hour of intense workout, he was back in front of the mirrors. His face was red from the hard work. He smiled, and I could swear that he even had a fat boner from looking at himself. His muscles had grown thicker, like dough in the oven, and I could only imagine his engorged areolas under the fabric of his skin-tight shirt (which was a little shorter around the gut now). His chest looked magnificent. It had nearly doubled in size over the last hour, and could soon be used as a shelf. His nipples, meanwhile, were so big and hard, that they bulged through his sweaty shirt. By my estimation, they must be one inch long now, and as thick as a thumb, but on him, they looked even bigger.

He posed in front of the mirror, and it became even more obvious how much the muscle milk made him grow. His biceps were almost as big as his head now, constantly pressing against his pecs, and his lats were so wide that he had his fair trouble moving. The same was true for his thighs. He cupped his muscle breasts with his hands, and shoved them up a few times. A white liquid ran through the fabric and over his fingers, and he dropped his heavy sacks. In a motion that looked like a lot of work, he put down his shirt and wondered over the sight of his heavy chest. The shirt in the one hand, he used the other to grab one of his nipples and press tightly. With a glorious feeling, a spurt of dense muscle milk shot a few feet from his engorged nipple, and he groaned in pleasure. He pressed his whole left breast heavily, and another even thicker stream shot through the air and against the mirror. Bewildered, he let himself fall onto the bench behind him, his muscles shaking from the movement. There was still muscle juice dripping from his right nipple, and down onto his gut, as if it wanted to find release.

He looked around the room, and found the second portion of muscle milk on the ground next to him where I had placed it before he entered the room. He licked his lips, and thought about it for a second, but there was something in him that wanted more.

He jumped to the ground, opened the little box, and gulped the sweet, white liquid down. After that, he let out a thunderous belch, and his body became more tank-like within minutes. He stomped over to the locker room, as if he was in a trance, and bought every single one of my muscle milk boxes. Seconds later, he sat on the ground, leaned against his locker, his mouth covered in muscle milk. He was groaning and belching continuously, while growing fatter with muscles in front of me. His shirt was already gone, and his leggings were soon ripping apart due to the size of his thighs and package. A seven-inch cock that was as wide as a huge bottle of soda, and slightly curved, grew into sight, already leaking pre. His nipples were now as thick as my own mediocre cock, and approx. 4 inches long. The experiment had worked.

I kneeled down next to him and realized that he had grown a few inches in height, too. I put my hand on his cannonball gut and gave it a few little rubs. He belched again, and his belly grew bigger in response. It was now almost covering his groin if his cock wouldn’t have been so thick, huge and strong.

His chest would soon reach up to his chin. I used my hand and caressed his breasts until I found his thickening nipple that was filled with blood and hard as steel. The slightest stroke was enough, and he began spurting ropes of muscle milk. He started to groan in sync with my milking session, and the more I milked him, the bigger his pecs became. In the end, most of the floor in front of him was covered in his white gold, and his pecs were constantly pressing against his wide jaw.

“I want you to drink it,” he said, out of the blue, but I was ready for it. The bodybuilder grabbed his thick nips and started jerking them in my face. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and drank every drop of the tasty muscle milk. Soon, his pecs were empty, and not so swollen anymore, but I could feel my own body grow from all his milk. I looked down and saw that there was a tiny wet spot over my own small, but puffy nipples. We looked into each other’s eyes and kissed.

“Come with me and you get more muscle milk,” I said, and he accepted immediately.

His clothes were now too small for him. While we took a break in a diner on our way home, his massive arms pressed against his pecs now, and then heavy spurts of muscle milk were

released. After eating enough food for three, his shirt was soaked with milk from his nipples, and it was already dripping on his pants.

“I saw it in your jacket when we came in; you have another portion of that delicious milk of yours in there, don’t you? Can I have it as a dessert? Now?” he asked when his last bite was in his gut.

I gave it to him with a vicious smile, and he gulped it down like the pig he was. All his round muscles started to swell dangerously big immediately, but most of all, his pecs and his nipples grew.

“We have to go. Now!” I whispered, way too loud, and looked around in the diner to see if anybody was paying attention to us. I nearly carried him to my van, and placed his supermassive body onto the passenger seat.

While driving home, I heard a loud ripping sound next to me and from the corner of my eyes, I could see his fat cock ripping through his pants. The second it was free, it started to coat the inside of the windshield in cum. The mountain of muscles next to me just groaned and whined to himself in pleasure. He grabbed his fat pecs, and added muscle milk to the torrents of cum he was spurting in my van. I stopped the car on the side of the road and helped him release. He came a second, and even a third time, until he fell back down into his seat. When we arrived and opened the doors, a flood of juice poured out onto the ground, with the sound of ocean waves crashing on the rocks.

“I think you will get along really well with the others,” I told him, and then opened my garage. Under a massive hidden door was a ladder, that showed us the way to the hidden part of my house. When he finally made it down with me, he could see it.

There were already two men down in this hall, but because of weeks of milking and drinking my self- created muscle milk, they had become unbelievably huge. They were both seven feet tall now, but unable to move because of their muscles. Their thighs were three times as wide as their hips, and their knees weren’t even visible anymore. Their heads were lost in a valley formed by their necks and pecs, and only their constant groans could be heard. Their arms were pressed outward by their unbelievable lats, and so heavily covered in muscles that they couldn’t even move one single inch. Their pecs were attached to some kind of milking machine, and behind them, two enormous glass containers could be seen. A white liquid was poured into them constantly.

When the two giants hadn’t any more muscle milk to give, I released them from the machine and their nipples as thick as my thigh dropped down into their lap.

“Hey bros. Can you hear me?” An exhausted but very happy “yes” came from both of them. “I brought you another friend.” A clearer and victorious “Yes!” came from both of them.

I turned around to our newcomer and said, “Their pecs are empty now but their balls are still full as fuck. Would you help me? After that, you can drink as much muscle milk as you want.”

He did not think about it for a second.

Soon he was naked and climbing these muscle mountains. Their cocks were all rock hard in seconds, and I saw that the giants had grown even thicker in that department. I climbed back up the ladder, and the last thing I heard was a first fountain of cum hitting the ceiling.

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