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• Latest update: 21 March. Next update: 4 April. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest post: Saturday Flashback: March 2013.

• Latest from BRK: “Customer satisfaction”“Remodel”; “Threefer”, Part 3.


Raul walked into the classroom like a satisfied predator. His eyes still smoldered as he scanned the room, but his sexual appetites, though bountiful, seemed to have been temporarily satisfied by the other young man, entering at his side.

Raul wore a white crewneck T-shirt that clung tightly to his muscled contours like a second skin, with material stretched to its max—so thinly that the dark kiss of his nipples could be seen clearly, their full rubbery nubs pushing insistently against the cotton like small dickheads that needed sucking.. The short sleeves were being pushed up toward his shoulders by the sheer size of his upper arms, packed with bulging muscle in prefect symmetry. One thick vein wound across the split head of each of his rounded biceps, then branched across the rounded expanses beneath his mocha-colored skin, and the arch of his triceps grabbed onto his arms like claws with arching fingers made of brawn.

He had a long neck and a prominent jaw, and his head was crowned with a tousled collection of soft auburn waves that seemed determined to look both messy and artfully arranged at the same time. A thin, curious smile wound across his lips, turned up slightly and dimpled at the corners. Above the dark smolder of his gaze, two dark, arched eyebrows accented the masculine set of his prominent brow, and his chin was rugged and dusted with black whiskers as if he needed another shave.

Raul was 16 years old, with the unwrinkled visage if youth, but the set of his jaw and the shape of his body, packed with brawn and gifted with a prominent, obvious bulge at his groin, evidenced that this was a fully matured man, stalking his sexual prey. His cock, thick and lengthy. throbbed and tingled with a constant hunger, and his muscles flexed and bulged with suppressed power. He felt as though a wet, warm tongue, even now, was lapping at his asshole, and that some urgent, talented fingers tortured his nipples and caressed the sack that held his balls and their copious, ever-flowing cargo of rich, hot, salty cum.

His body pulsed with overwhelming sexual need and ability and bulged with muscular strength and shone with an aura of masculine beauty. He heard his name called, “L2!”, and he smiled. He raised his arm in greeting at the collection of the Muscle Club members, gathered as usual together in after-school detention for a variety of small and not-so-small school infractions, filling the small classroom with thick waves of male scent and power.

At his side stood what appeared to be a very well-developed junior class bodybuilder who had, for some reason, elected to dress himself in his younger brother’s much smaller wardrobe. His name was Jeffrey, and though his face was handsome and his body was muscular and broad, there was something in Raul’s demeanor and physical presence that he was lacking.

The clothes, for one thing, were both comically ill-fitting and at the same time rather hot. His shirt, a sky blue Oxford with a button-down collar, at least two sizes too small, was missing its sleeves because they had been clearly torn off at the shoulders. In their place, his bare arms bulged with muscular power. Balloons of brawn were swelling everywhere in deeply defined perfection, and the lobes of his muscled delts were trying hard to rip the shirt even more. Three or four of the top buttons were undone or missing entirely, and the shirt front was being spread open by the sheer size and heft of his two thick pectoral globes. While the material wasn’t as sheer as Raul’s shirt, one could again see the young man’s thick nipples pushing against the blue cotton urgently.

A thin coat of fur spread across the plates of his muscled chest, and more man fur erupted from under his muscled arms. Still more was visible across his belly, because the shirt couldn’t manage to reach entirely down his tall frame and a good three inches of a six-pack stomach rose above the loose waistband of his jeans. Indeed, it appeared that the only thing keeping his pants up were the swollen muscles of his thighs and the thick bulge pressing against his zipper—pushing so hard, in fact, that the zipper’s cover was being stripped back and it looked like it was going to give way any second.

He looked over at Raul and licked his lips. They were full and moist, under a broad, masculine nose and a pair of dark brown eyes. His jaw, angled and sculpted, was sporting a rather thick shadow of a beard that complimented the lines of his face, and a shaggy mane of dark waves spilled across his head to his shoulders, unkempt as if he had just grown it. He stood as tall as Raul, topping 6-and-a-half feet, and was also his equal in size and muscular development, lacking only the other young man’s overwhelming sexuality and self-confidence. As Raul started across the room toward the other muscular young men, Jeffrey fell in line, looking awkward in comparison as if he wasn’t yet comfortable in his body.

“Dudes,” Raul said smoothly, “this is Jeffrey. I just initiated him into Muscle Club. Jeffrey, this is Carl, Justin, and Brian.” Raul looked toward the front of the room at another man, whose face was buried in a book, and said, “and our host, Mr. Titus. Good afternoon, Mr. Titus!” The man did not pull his eyes from his book, and gave the slimmest of nods in return.

Jeffrey’s cock twitched and throbbed as he looked at the other Club members. They were, each of them, intensely handsome and built like brick shithouses. Carl seemed a tad smaller than the other two, but that was only because both Brian and Justin looked like giants, even compared with Raul.

Carl’s hair was closely shorn to his head, with matching whiskers across his chin, cheeks, upper lip and neck, so that his tanned head looked like a peach. His hair was blonde, almost silver, and his eyes were green. He had a round face to match the roundness of his chest, shoulders and biceps, and everything about him was thick and bulging. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue tanktop with a Superman ‘S’ iron-on peeling away from the stretched material. He smiled and nodded at Jeffrey, then reached forward to grab one of the other teen’s fat nipples and playfully twisted it. “Looking good, Jeff,” he said, and his voice was low and husky. He had a bright, wide, friendly smile and seemed completely comfortable given the superheated sexual environment.

Brian and Justin sat side-by-side, so close together they were almost touching. Now that he was standing closer, the two appeared to be even bigger than he first thought. In fact, the two seemed to be experiencing the same clothing problem that Jeffrey had, each of them swelling beyond the containment of their shirts and testing the bounds of the crotches of their sweats, with wide rends and tears opening the seams of their shirts and pulling apart their pants at the thigh.

He could clearly make out both young men’s fat, lengthy pricks pressing thickly against their sweatpants, and they owned bodies of such overwhelming muscular development that it was easy to imagine that either one of them were more comic book superhero than high school student. Brian smiled and offered his huge paw in a friendly shake, and Justin followed suit, the veins of his massive forearm pulsing and throbbing like he was growing still larger just sitting there. “Hi,” Jeffrey said, and his voice cracked, eliciting a round of good-natured laughter from the group.

“Don’t sweat it, bro,” Carl offered, standing up and setting his arm across Jeffrey’s wide shoulders, “we’ve all been there.” Carl smelled like leather and dirt and sweat, and the scent made Jeffrey’s cock pulse. Carl looked at Raul and said, “You sure know how to pick ‘em, L2.” Carl’s hand squeezed Jeffrey’s shoulder and then he bent his lips to Jeffrey’s ear and whispered, “Can’t wait to fuck that beautiful ass of yours, Jeff.” Then he slapped the ass in question as if to accentuate his boast, and left his grip linger on Jeffrey’s right butt cheek, squeezing and kneading the rounded muscle.

Raul’s eyebrow arched and he said, “Couldn’t you at least wait until I wasn’t in the room? I bring a new guest to the party and the first thing you do is proposition him.” He looked at Jeff and sighed, “Please excuse my friend’s manners, Jeffrey. Although… I do recommend you take him up on his offer. Carl really does put everything into his fucking.”

“Your ass still hurt, L?”

Raul smiled. “Like you were still in there, C.”

“How come they call you L? I thought your name was Raul.”

“A little Club member humor. We all have nicknames. I’m the Latin Lover, or L2, or simple L. Brian here is Trigger, and not because he’s as big as a horse. Justin is Rabbit—”

“Because I fuck like a bunny!”

“Yeah, fast and all over the place,” Carl added, grinning.

“What’s my nickname?”

“Don’t know yet, Jeff. Though based on personal experience, I’m inclined to to call you Hoover.” Raul turned to his friends and said, “This dude just gave The Beast a blow job that will go down in the history books.”

“You like to suck cock, Jeff?” Carl asked. Jeffrey looked a bit sheepish, then simply nodded. Suddenly, and without any evident embarrassment, Carl was shoving his sweatpants off his hips and unveiling his own awesome tool, a fat shank of thick, cut glory with a bulbous head and a long, veiny shaft. It was already halfway to erection, and now that he pulled it out it was swelling and arching upward with amazing speed without a touch or a stroke to its gigantic size. “Here ya go, dude. Eat hardy!”

Jeff’s face turned red and his eyes shot toward the front of the classroom. “What about… Mr. Titus?”

“Oh, I’ve offered it to him a bunch of times, and he never takes me up on it. But don’t worry, I got more than enough to go around.” He started slowly stroking his massive meat, and it was growing increasingly fat and shiny as his manhood swelled ever larger, rising toward the deep valley between his Superman pecs.

“No, I mean… won’t he… doesn’t he—?” Jeff’s brain was only working part time now, mesmerized with the sight of Carl’s cock rising, swelling and throbbing before his eyes.

“Mr. Titus and us have a little understanding, Jeffrey,” Raul said. “We can do whatever we want with each other, but we can’t invite him to the party.” He smiled, and sighed, adding, “Such a shame, too. I’d love to feel his cock in my ass, but I guess I’ll just have to comfort my emptiness with Brian’s dick instead.” As he finished his sentence, he started to strip his shirt from his gorgeous body and shove his sweatpants down his legs, his amazing and beautiful cock fat and drooling. “That is, if you’re up for it, Trigger.” Then Raul leaned down and started to kiss Brian’s mouth, and the other young man kissed back, though Justin’s face grew dark with jealousy.

Then Brian pulled away and said, “Uh, the invitation—and the ass—are both incredibly attractive, but Justin and me are… um… we’re—”

Raul looked at Justine and realized that the two were in a relationship of some sort, so he shrugged and said, “Threeway?”

Mr. Titus was not entirely unaware of what was happening at the back of the classroom. Nor was he entirely immune to the effects of the half-dozen Muscle Club members and their rising sexual heat, both actual and emotional. But a grown man—and particularly a teacher—could not become involved in any sort of sexual behavior, either implied or implicit, with any underaged young men.

Billy Titus, or Mr. Titus as he was known at West Valley High, was sitting alone in his classroom at 3:00pm, waiting to see who would be assigned detention today. It had been an exceptionally odd couple of weeks since “the big boys” started showing up on a daily basis. A different one every day, and sometimes in groups of two or three or more. They were always there for the same reasons, class disruption or tardiness. The tardiness wasn’t too unusual, and the disruptions were easy to account for.

Each of the boys, sophomores or juniors, sixteen or seventeen years old, had one thing in common; they were all physically imposing figures of large stature and abnormal muscular development. They were also, a bit oddly, dressed in a similar manner, always wearing gray cotton drawstring sweatpants and often eschewing the normal winter jacket or coat and barely covering up their upper bodies with T-shirts or tank tops that hardly contained them, and often didn’t.

The first two to show up, Scott Richardson and Derek Manzetti, were remarkable. As the days went by, and those two showed up with increasing regularity, their continuing physical transformations were miraculous. They appeared to be growing bigger on an almost daily basis. Shirts that fit tightly one day were ripping at the seams the next. The muscles of their arms grew bigger, fatter and more prominent, and the visible portion of skin between the tops of their pants and the bottoms of their shirts grew wider and wider, as if they were actually growing taller by the inch from one day to the next.

Then Brian Chan showed up. Billy Titus knew Brian from his physical sciences class. The Brian Chan that showed up last Wednesday, though, was clearly not the same Brian Chan that Mr. Titus had in his class every Tuesday and Thursday. The Brian Chan that appeared in detention because he was caught in the hallways with another student committing acts in clear violation of school rules was huge. A professional bodybuilder’s body with Brian Chan’s face.

Then there was Carl Stanton and Raul Garza and another handful of similarly augmented young men, now sporting five o’clock shadows or a few days growth of beard on their grown-up faces, wearing clothing that punctuated and highlighted the fact that their bodies were not only swollen with muscle but also gifted with sexual equipment of unusually large size that they could not seem to keep their own hands off of.

Glancing at the clock, Billy sighed and wondered if maybe today would be the first uneventful day in detention since the whole weird episode of the teen superheroes began, then the door handle began to turn and his door opened slowly and three very large, very handsome, very untouchable young men entered and walked slowly toward his desk.

Brian was even bigger, and so was Justin Clark. The third young man, Carl, was particularly problematic. More than once he had overtly propositioned Billy, and they often caught each others’ glances during the course of detention, with Carl smiling at him and Billy trying hard to simply contain his growing interest in the teenager.

It was really unfair, because he no longer looked like a teenager. He certainly acted like one, of course, but he owned the body and the face of someone who couldn’t possibly be sixteen years old, all evidence to the contrary. And it was doubly unfair because Billy had done everything he could to hide his sexuality, and now he was being taunted by a wet dream made flesh, sitting just a few yards from him, constantly getting bigger.

When the muscle boys started fooling around with each other, Billy tried to stop it. They would explore each other’s bodies, then they’d be kissing, then stripping each other out of their tight clothes and at every step of the way, Billy asked them to curtail their activities. And at first they did.

Then things would get out of hand, and Billy got scared. He knew that young men were basically walking containers of testosterone and sexual energy. What was the oft-quoted statistic? That young men think about sex every four minutes? Billy thought that was probably an understatement, particularly since he was thinking about it every second since these boys showed up in detention on a daily basis, and he was thirty-five and well beyond teenaged energy.

He glanced up from his book and blanched, but he also pulled himself closer to his desk so his boner wouldn’t be quite so obvious. Carl had his cock out, already. Raul was altogether naked, his shirt and pants discarded on the floor, and Brian and Justin were growing visibly aroused. The newest kid, who Billy didn’t know personally, was looking at Carl’s amazing erection in all its throbbing glory with evident lust, while it was becoming quickly apparent that Raul, Brian and Justin would soon be performing a live gay muscle porno in front of his eyes in his own classroom. Brian was grinning and stripping his hugely muscled body of its few remaining clothes, while Raul was kissing Justin’s mouth and pushing his hand under Justin’s pants, pulling forth his mammoth prick before bending his lips to the flaring helmet and sucking it inside hungrily.

Billy swallowed into a dry mouth. The sounds of groaning, huffing, moaning, sucking, kissing and fucking began to fill his ears. He pulled in a long breath and tried harder to concentrate on his book, as if someone could ignore five bodybuilder-grade teenaged sex gods going at each other in all their masculine naked perfection.

So much skin. So much muscle. So much sex. The scent of them filled his nostrils like a musky perfume. He glanced up and caught Carl watching him. Carl smiled. He was moving his hips slowly. He had one arm behind his head, the biceps swollen as large as a melon. His other arm was before his giant muscular body, his hand held behind the head of the newest boy, who crouched before him on his knees. The other boy had his hands gripping onto Carl’s bubble butt while he voraciously and quite clearly delightedly gave Carl the blowjob of his young life. Carl’s eyes rolled up into his head and his body shook as he delivered an evident flood of rich, hot cream into the kid’s mouth. Billy watched him swallow it all without missing a drop, the muscles along his arms bulging as he tightened his grip to hold the massive cock inside his mouth to suck everything from it.

Billy licked his lips as his gaze flickered toward the trio of naked muscular teenaged boys to the left of Carl’s blowjob. Justin was lying on the floor, on his back, with his thick and powerful legs thrust toward the ceiling. Raul was atop him, his amazing and perfect prick, perhaps the most beautiful cock Billy had ever seen, was thrusting in and out of Justin’s hole with a slick, sucking sound. Justin grunted and sighed and moaned with every deep thrust, and Raul was mouthing obscenities quietly into his ear, too soft for Billy to hear other than the occasional ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ and ‘ass.’

Raul’s muscular and beautiful butt was in the air as he fucked Justin’s ass, and there was Brian, slicking up his own fat dick with his spit-soaked grip. The tip of his monster was drooling a stream of thick clear honey onto Raul’s perfect ass, and Brian was using his other hand to massage, tease and lube the chute in preparation for what would clearly be the fucking of Raul’s life.

Carl moaned deeply and Billy looked at him. He was beautiful, like that, pushing his cock in and out of the other boy’s mouth. The cocksucker was stroking his own prick and Billy watched it swell and lengthen and turn red, edging toward a fat stream of cum that was surely about to explode.

Mr. Titus pulled another calming breath into his body and forced his eyes back to the pages of his book, trying very hard to ignore the sounds of sex and heavy duty, deeply satisfying fucking happening in his classroom. Raul let out a deep and feral noise, and Billy knew that Brian had entered him, pushing his monster cock deep into Raul’s guts as Raul fucked Justin, fucking and fucked at the same time.

He was trying to find his place in his book when a scent assailed his nose very clearly with sudden strength, a smell of man sex, of balls and cock and ass and fucking and cum and sweat. And he looked up, and Carl was standing at the edge of his desk.

Still naked, still muscled as fuck, still beautiful. His powerful nude form was shining with sweat. He stood tall and broad, and he looked as if he had been polished, everything glistened and bulged and throbbed with sex and power. His cock, all ten inches of it, was no longer upright, but continued drooling a thick stream of honey from its eye.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Titus. I couldn’t help myself,” he said. He lifted his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. The bicep swelled again into fat firmness, showcasing the mammoth size of it as it lifted from his arm, and another waft of Carl’s scent, funky and earthy, found its way to Billy’s nostrils. “I have to ask you again.”

Billy swallowed thickly. “You know the answer, Mr. Stanton.”

Hearing his name spoken with such formality and authority made Carl’s dick throb, again. His nipples tingled sweetly and his entire body seemed to heat up, slightly. He sat his fine ass into a student’s desk in front of Billy, maneuvering his bulk into place before shifting his hips forward. Billy realized that his cock was so long, it draped itself off the end of the seat and was drooling onto the floor. “It never hurts to ask.”

Carl sat deeper, shoving his hips farther forward, knitting his fingers together and folding his hands behind his neck, sending both of his arms into spasms of muscular excitement. The thick lobes of his lats flared wide from his back, and his shoulders reached toward his smallish ears, as three distinct heads of brawn separating under his pale skin. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Titus?” His voice was a deep, gruff rumble.

The young man’s intensely sensual scent was very strong now, like an animal in heat. Billy swallowed dryly and tried not to think about what he wanted to think about. “I assume it’s something blue in nature?”

“Blue?” Carl sent one of his finely crafted eyebrows up, but his smile stayed put.

“Off-color. Not something to be shared among children.”

Carl adjusted his bulk slightly. His legs spread wider, and his upper body seemed to swell even larger. “I don’t see any children in here, Mr. Titus,” he said, licking his lips, “do you?”

Looking at the man before him, with whiskers along his angular features and soft curls of silver-gold erupting along his arms, and across the wide expanse of his well-developed chest, and more growing in the deep, moist cave of his underarms, it was hard to argue the point. But Carl was still a minor, no matter what he may look like. “You know what I mean, Mr. Stanton.”

“Yeah, Mr. Titus. I know exactly what you mean.” His legs went wider still, and he shifted his hips forward in his chair. “They said that you were the hottest guy in this school.” His smile grew teeth. White and perfect. His scent was stronger still. “Not just the hottest teacher, Mr. Titus. The hottest guy.” He growled the compliment like a blonde tiger.

“Who did?”

Carl smiled, sensing an opening. “Scott and Derek. Said you were fucking cute.” He tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. “But you’re more handsome than cute. I think it’s your eyes. You shouldn’t hide them behind those glasses. You have very nice eyes, Mr. Titus.”

“Thank you, Carl,” he said. “That’s very nice.” He adjusted his glasses and looked up at the clock again, trying to look anywhere but at the naked, half-erect, muscle-packed, pornographic vision three feet in front of him. But Carl’s voice drew his attention when he continued.

“It’s true,” he said softly. “You’re a really hot guy.” He leaned forward in his chair and let his arms fall to the top of the desk. His fingers curled around the end of the wood and his hips slid forward again. “Do you think I’m hot, Mr. Titus?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a question I could answer and keep my job, Carl.”

“Are you embarrassed, Mr. Titus? Because you find me hot?”

“As I said Carl, I don’t think that’s an appropriate—”

“Do you want to kiss me, Mr. Titus?” Carl pulled his hands back and sat up, moving to extract his muscled bulk from the small student desk. “You can if you want to,” he added, standing to his full height, and leaning over Billy’s desk. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Carl’s cock began a renewed growth toward erection. It was thick and swollen and arching forward, showcasing the beginning of an evident and obvious hard-on. He had a finely developed set of abdominals and a starkly rigid Apollo’s belt, shaped like a muscular arrow leading towards his groin.

Naked, with a cock swelling fatter and longer by the heartbeat, Carl took another step towards the object of his desire, pushing his right hand down his cobblestone belly before the tips of his fingers deep into his forest of golden pubes. “Because I want to kiss you, Mr. Titus,” he concluded. “Very, very badly.”

“I don’t think you do, Mr. Stanton. I think you’re—”

Hearing his name spoken that way again only made him hornier. He wanted to be told what to do. He wanted to be disciplined. “I know what you’re going to say, Mr. Titus. You’re going to say that I’m confused. But I want to assure you that I’m not confused at all.” He was standing now at the very edge of Billy’s desk. His hand was on his cock, stroking its growth methodically. His other hand rested against the dynamic muscles of his chest, highly developed and incredibly detailed. His thumb plucked at his nipple. His fingers stroked the golden fur his body was growing. “I know what I want, and I know who I want it from.” He leaned down, over the desk. His scent was strong and masculine. “It’s just a kiss, Mr. Titus. What’s the harm in one kiss?”

His lips were full and moist. He had an overpowering sexuality to him, as well as a physical presence that was undeniable. He reached out his hand, pulling it reluctantly from his cock, coated with precum, and moved it toward Billy’s chin. His fingers were soft and his touch was delicate. His scent clung to the fingers of that hand, intense and sensual.

Then the door opened, and two more boys strode into the classroom. Scott and Derek. Again. But they stopped their quiet chatter and stood frozen by the door when they saw a naked and obviously engaged Carl “Rabbit” Stanton stooping toward Billy Titus, with his hand caressing the other man’s face. “Whoa,” Scott said.

“Cool,” Derek added.

Billy stood up suddenly, the spell of the moment broken, the raging hard-on in his pants fading as he felt his entire body heat with embarrassment. Billy looked from Carl’s face to the two young men at the open door of his classroom and back again, panicked and scared that he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I’m… I don’t know what—”

Scott raised his hand plaintively and Derek just smiled. “It’s okay, Mr. Titus, it’s okay! We won’t say anything! Fuck, were you two just about to, like, get down?”

“That is so fucking hot,” Derek agreed, already starting to strip his own shirt from his amazing and hugely muscled form. “Let’s have a fucking party!” He turned toward the other four Muscle Club members, who were engaged in some rather complicated four-way action, and gave a wolf whistle to gain their attention. “Dudes! New initiate!”

“Boys,” Billy said.

Carl turned slightly and said, “I only asked him for a kiss.” He turned back, hope in his sea-green gaze. “Just a kiss.” The foursome was disentangling itself, muscled limbs and dripping cocks rising from the naked pile of sex, and they joined the other three boys near the teacher’s desk.

“Kissing is nice,” Scott agreed, striding up to stand on Carl’s right.

“Fucking is better,” Derek added, already half-naked and struggling to untie the string holding his sweatpants up. He stood on Carl’s left, and it was clear to see how much bigger the two younger boys were than Carl was himself.

They had the upper body development and strength of professional bodybuilders, with hugely swollen muscles bulging from every inch of their immense bodies. By contrast, Carl’s development was a couple dozen pounds and several inches less massive, resembling a fitness model or porn star more than the musclebound friends to either side.

“Hey, Carl,” Derek said. Then he leaned over and kissed the other young man on the lips with passion and depth.

“Hi,” he answered, somewhat breathlessly, before Scott pulled him around and planted a similarly passionate and lingering kiss on his lips.

After the kiss, Scott looked at him and said, “Pretty fucking big balls, Carl, to try on Mr. Titus for size.” The giant teenager looked at Billy and said, “And I walked in here thinking this was just going to be another agonizing afternoon of staring at the teacher thinking about licking his asshole,” he swung his arm onto Carl’s shoulders and added, “and here I find my friend running toward first base already.”

Derek had his drawstring unknotted and was shoving his sweats off his hips. Billy felt the heat that was already washing over his body intensify as the teenager stripped naked in his classroom and stood not three feet away from him, smiling broadly. “Fuck first base,” he said, happily, “I want to slide into fucking home!” He grabbed onto his already swelling prick and rubbed the emerging head with his thumb. His cock was growing at an alarming pace, and attaining an unbelievable size as it quickly arched up to full erection. “Don’t worry, teach,” he said with a wink. “It looks big, but I’ll be very tender.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Scott said, starting to pull his shirt off, too. “I speak from experience, Mr. Titus. This fuck machine is about as tender as a cactus.” His shirt was tossed aside and he started pushing his own pants off his huge, perfect body. “You better let me get things started, Mr. Titus. Between the two of us, I’m the dude that puts the ‘king’ in love-making!”

Derek huffed out a laugh at his friend’s boast, but no matter how he looked at things, at the moment Billy Titus was standing alone in his classroom with seven naked sixteen-year-old students, all of whom were already either fully engorged or at half-mast and obviously ready for Billy to make the next move.

There was an overwhelming scent permeating the room. The combination of the teenaged boys pumping out their powerful pheromones made Billy’s head swim, and his cock was starting to plump whether he wanted it to or not. Scott was caressing Carl’s muscled chest and kissing his neck. Derek was stroking his own massive hard-on, and a steady drizzle of clear honey was pouring from the tip. Carl had attained full erection himself, and his dick was now red and gleaming and pulsing hotly.

“Gentlemen,” Billy said at last, trying to gather the tatters of his wits around him, “I need you to put your clothes back on right now.”


“Right now, please.”

Derek peered across the top of Carl’s head at Scott, who turned to meet his gaze. Scott’s arm was still hanging across Carl’s shoulder and he reached his hand down toward Carl’s nipple and began to pinch, twist and play with it, resulting in Carl’s cock stretching even longer, shoving a thick stream of precum from its fount.

Scott said, “You know, Mr. Titus, it occurs to me that you’re probably right. It would be wrong of us to do something that you don’t approve of.” Scott moved his free hand onto his own swollen and insistently throbbing prick, grabbing the long shaft and squeezing it hard. The muscles of his arm bulged and thick veins pulsed, feeding the fat brawn to thicker power. “And we wouldn’t want you to get into trouble, right guys?”

“Of course not,” Derek agreed, smiling.

“No,” Carl added, his eyebrow rising curiously.

“But it also occurs to me,” he said slowly, casting his gaze down his massively muscled form toward his red, erect, swollen cock, “that it’s a little too late in the proceedings for me to calm myself down. And looking at my friends, here, I’d say I’m speaking for the majority.”

“Indeed,” Derek agreed, as a fresh guzzle of precum drooled from the eye of his huge prick.

“So this is how it happens, Mr. Titus.”

Billy pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze. “How what happens, gentlemen?”

Scott smiled. Derek smiled, too. Carl looked back and forth between his two friends and suddenly understood what was about to occur. He grabbed his red and angry prick and felt the flood of cum in his balls release.

“Welcome to Muscle Club, Mr. Titus.”

It seemed to Carl that both of the guys on either side of him had cum cannons. He could not believe that so much hot cream could be produced, and be shot out with such accuracy. “Aim for his mouth,” Derek said beside him. “It works best if it gets inside.”

Then Brian and Justin stepped up, and they were aiming their cocks at the front of the room as well. Raul joined in from the side, and last to let loose with his own ropes of cream was Jeffrey, pushing out another flood of cum even after spending several happy minutes cumming into Raul’s ass.

Carl, front and center, grabbed his cock and tried to point the nozzle up. His first blast came out in a splattering mess, showering against the top of the desk and Mr. Titus’s pleated pants. Scott’s steady stream splashed against Billy’s neck before zeroing in on his astonished mouth, while Derek’s impossibly huge cock hit the bull’s eye with the first shot. Brian and Justin at first seemed too far away to hit the target, but somehow managed to increase their flows and were cumming fat blasts that splattered all over the room and Billy’s body.

The sound of the huge teens releasing thick streams of transforming cream from their massive pricks was an unusual one. Carl’s pointed his erect foot-long monster was shoving out fat ropes of warm, sticky cream that easily managed to hit the mark.

God, it felt so good to cum. His whole body shook with the intensity of the sexual gratification his cock was delivering. The two boys next to him seemed able to let flow with an endless stream of cum, as if they were pissing warm cream. He could not imagine how that must have felt, to cum constantly and freely and so copiously. He made a mental note that he was overdue with a fuck session with the Club masters, but he was intent on delivering everything he could toward Mr. Titus.

In mere moments, it was easy see the effects the combined flood of hot cum was having on Mr. Titus.

Cum was dripping off his shirt. The two huge Muscle Club founders were delivering fat loads of cream that splattered and splashed all over their target, while the others were having less success. And even though Billy held up his hands to ward it off, it was entering his body through his mouth and nose and pores, seeking entry wherever it could to start its job of remaking another man into a superman.

Billy felt his body grow suddenly very hot. Lava was splashing against his skin. The heat was intense and all-consuming, but it was quickly replaced by another sensation as Transform sunk into his cells and began its job of altering Billy’s DNA and essential biological make-up, refining and perfecting and improving its beneficiary as it multiplied and grew in strength within him.

The next sensation, after the burning of his muscles and the stretching of his bones, was one of pure and intense sexual bliss. A quicksilver tingling grew to a pounding, throbbing beast of pleasure, diverting his brain while his body changed. And his body began to alter very quickly, welcoming the transformations with increasing desire.

The seven gigantic young men watched Billy Titus transform before their eyes, and he was becoming very large, very fast.

Billy stumbled backwards against the blackboard and stretched his arms out. Scott and Derek moved forward and kept applying more and more of their transforming cum, as Carl became mesmerized by what he was seeing and his own seed splattered and puddled all over Billy’s empty desk. Because Billy began to swell with brawn, and in moments he was ripping through his button-down oxford and pleated Dockers and growing bigger by the second.

“Fuck,” Scott said, grinning hugely.

“No shit,” Derek agreed. “This is fucking awesome!”

Billy was lost in his haze of orgasmic ecstasy. The combination of so many streams of transforming cum was mingling in his cells and blood and his body was growing by the inch, ripping free of his clothes with explosive muscular development that caused all his muscles to throb and thicken and swell beneath his skin.

Veins, finger-thick, rippled across his frame and throbbed into his growing brawn. Muscle heads bulged and split and swelled and grew, bubbling and hardening in an unstoppable stream. He threw back his head and sucked air into his lungs and drowned in a sea of orgasmic bliss as his body grew bigger and bigger.

Naked now, his clothing in shreds on the floor, the other naked men watched him change. The lobes of muscle on his chest ballooned outward. His belly suctioned in and assembled an eight-pack of abdominals with inch-thick valleys. His shoulders stretched wider and wider and his body grew taller, stretching itself to fit all the brawn that was growing at a sudden and violent pace. His arms were fat with brawn, and his legs bloomed with huge wedges of power, all of it insanely defined and intensely beautiful.

Then, his cock was growing. Not just growing, it was fairly exploding. The thing turned deeply red and shiny as if it was going to pop or burst, and then it lengthened by the foot and thickened by the inch and where before the man owned a smallish little dick there hung a fat, impossibly huge man-cock.

Billy’s eyes opened and he focused his gaze on the group of young men doing this to his body, and he was overcome with lust and need. His groin felt incredibly powerful, like he could fuck a mountain to dust, and a pulsing, throbbing, powerfully masculine sexuality was filling him up inside. He reached down toward his cock and rubbed the hot flesh of his meat pole with his palm, feeling a kind of itch there, under the skin and beneath the soft curls of pubic fur growing thicker by the heartbeat. He could feel something there, a small bump, and as he rubbed against that, fresh shocks of sexual heat erupted through his growing body.

He looked down and he could see it, now. It was very small, but pushing itself forward, being born from his loins as his muscles continued to grow and his body stretched itself higher. He delicately moved the tip of his index finger across the tiny head of the emerging flesh, and watched it swell eagerly against his manipulations. “Fuck,” he said softly, “it’s growing.”

It was. His second cock. The first of the Muscle Club members to receive it. And now that it had broken the surface and seen its brother’s size, it was growing very quickly to maturity.

The others grew aware of what was happening and focused their attention on the man’s crotch, and stood in mute fascination and wonder as they watched his secondary prick swell from his loins. It was an uncut beauty, chubby and plump, that suddenly dipped forward and unfurled like a snake emerging from a hole or a hose uncoiling itself. The head bloomed fat beneath its cowl of foreskin and the shaft was thick and long and pulsing with veins that made it swell to perfection in a mater of moments.

Mr. Titus had two cocks. Two huge, perfect, beautiful cocks.

“Fuck me,” Carl whispered, as he watched Mr. Titus’s growth slow and stop and suddenly as it had begun. In a matter of two minutes, it was over, and before them stood another man entirely. A man with Billy Titus’s face, but the muscle-packed body worthy of a Greek god, and the owner of not just one majestic prick, but two of them, hanging fat and firm and heavy over a pair of massive, churning balls.

He was breathing hard, his huge chest rising and falling. His thickly muscled arms, still pressed against the blackboard, slowly fell towards his side. His wing-like lats folded into his wide back, and his whole body glistened with sweat.

“Jesus,” he said softly, as he lowered his head. His new body pulsed with power and sexual desire. Lifting his beautiful face and opening his eyes, he was momentarily confused before he realized this glasses were making everything look hazy and indistinct. Whatever had happened to him had even improved his eyesight, and he took the glasses off and placed them on his desk.

He looked at the other men in the room, and was seized by a sudden fear because they all held looks of complete shock and silent awe as they stared back at him.

Then he looked down, and all Billy saw was muscle. Muscle everywhere. Bulges of it. Wedges and cables and fat round balls of muscle along his arms and chest and belly. He placed his hands along the muscled contours of his altered body and felt an intense sensual pleasure wherever he touched. Cascades of bliss erupted across his body and zoomed toward his crotch, sending a flood of hot blood into each cock and making his balls swell with cum.

He was going to explode.

To the others, Billy Titus was suddenly the only thing they wanted. He was huge, he was perfect, he was gorgeous, and he owned two gigantic pricks, thick and juicy. They crowded toward him and felt his heat and smelled his scent and found their cocks pulsing and throbbing again toward erection, just looking at the intense beauty and sheer, unbridled muscular might bulging along every inch of his naked body.

“Oh, fuck,” Billy moaned, sinking into the deep sexual bliss of his own touch. He could feel his cocks pulse with growth. They was swelling quickly, growing long and fat and hard, and fiercely aroused. His balls ached with the bulging cargo of his seed as his powerful body began immediately producing prodigious amounts of thick, hot, transforming cream. “I’m gonna cum,” he said softly. “Gonna cum so hard.”

“Fuck yeah, Billy,” Carl said. “Fuckin’ cum.”

Billy reached down and grabbed a prick in each hand, and almost immediately his twins went off like fire hoses, shoving ropes of cum out that splattered against the wall of muscle facing him, soaking their fur-covered flesh in thick pearls of incandescent white. It felt as hot as lava on their skin, and the boys groaned and sighed and sank to their knees so that his streams could reach their mouths. They hungered for their new brother’s rich, delicious cream and swallowed hungrily.

Then they could feel the change beginning. It started as a pressure at their groins—sharp, suddenly pulses of sex and masculine power manifesting as heat and hardness, and their own secondary cocks began to sprout and develop quickly. Growing another prick was the most amazing and sexually charged experience of their young lives. It felt like nothing else, and Billy’s powerful cum dove through their bodies and shoved their secondary cocks out with force and a heavy shock of orgasmic bliss.

The room was filled with the sound of the men growing, cumming, moaning and grunting. Feral sexual pleasure like heat emanated in the confined space and suddenly Brian stood up moaned, “Gonna grow, I can feel it… oh, fuck, gonna get so fucking huge…” His already mammoth body shook and quivered, and his muscles seemed to tighten and harden under his skin so that every cable and fiber was visible. Then all at once, his entire form bulged and swelled and he was another size larger.

It happened with amazing speed. Not a slow transition from his old size to his new one, but an immediate and powerful detonation of muscle that exploded across his body as he shot up another twelve inches in height and expanded outward to encompass his new wealth of powerful brawn. His skin seemed suctioned onto his muscle, and every inch of him was deeply defined and incredibly ripped.

He was a monster. Easily eight feet tall, now, with arms as large as other men’s legs and every inch of his huge form overwhelmed in muscular beauty. His pricks, both of them, jutted another two inches forward and grew as thick as beer cans, with fat veins winding along each shaft and fat, shiny heads, plump and red. He began to cum, again, spraying thick loads from the eye of each of his cobras, and his groans of pleasure shook the others to their cores.

Then they were all growing. They were all growing again. Bigger and bigger. Muscle was swelling outward, cocks were growing longer and heavier, balls bulged and pulsed, whiskers sprang out on their chin and cheeks, dark forests of curling man fur filled in along the deep crevasses between the swelling bellies of raw brawn growing more massive by the heartbeat.

They came and grew and came some more, in a vicious cycle of muscular growth and sexual power, each feeding the other until they were done at last, a classroom of eight naked super-powerful sex gods. Raul, Jeffrey, Carl, Justin, Brian, Billy, Derek and Scott—the next step in the continuing evolution of The Muscle Club.

Derek simply smiled. “Let’s fuck.”

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