Bucky's Bro Shake

Bucky's Bro Shake

It was honestly fascinating, almost entrancing, watching him guzzle down that protein shake. As if nothing else mattered in the world. His body slightly shaking, not because he was getting weak after his workouts, but from the sheer excitement of growing even more.

We only finished the development of this new formula of protein shake a month ago, and sent straight into testing. My brother and I were only college students, so not a lot of people were willing to start a new gym regiment for this, and any jocks who already were, weren't going to try out our experimental formula.

We did manage to convince my friend, Benjamin from middle school to give it a go. He was a scrawny guy who wanted to try and look better for picking up dates. So we started out light with his workouts, and he, of course, was told to drink one serving a day.

The results were um...provocative. To say the least. One week in, and Benjamin had already gained ten pounds in lean muscle mass, flexing his arms to make biceps he never had in his life before. And his strength progression rose from topping thirty pounds on the bench press to an impressive seventy-five. And we were just getting started.

Week two, we told him to keep up his one serving per day, and he gladly obliged. Day after day, he broke personal bests regularly, gradually growing his strength and muscular mass in tandem. By the end of the week he was bench pressing a staggering two hundred pounds. As his workouts got more intense, he stared bringing in larger water bottles. Even his height seemed to be growing. He started the week at 5'4 and 140 lbs, and ended at 5'8, 185 lbs. While my brother was ecstatic at the progress, I was getting a little concerned.

Week three was positively absurd. Benjamin basically gained 1½ inches in height daily, finishing his workouts by lifting dozens of pounds above his personal bests from the previous day, and his water bottle was now an opaque gallon jug that he guzzled down desperately. He even insisted he stopped being called Benjamin, and wanted to go by "Bucky" now. Something was not right.

Just doing the workouts was getting more difficult. His dramatic growth aside, "Bucky" was almost a different person. Gone was the humble and somewhat timid demeanor, gradually replaced by a loud, almost aggressive ego that caught the attention, good and bad, of every gym goer around us. His focus was dropping, and he was difficult to get a hold of outside the gym since he was always busy with a new "date". It was obvious these were all sex friends. Even my brother couldn't ignore these signs.

By the time we were finishing up the month we were too late to notice. Bucky had missed several gym sessions and were worried, so we visited his apartment directly. The door was unlocked and when we went inside we were a little shocked at the state of things.

Protein bar wrappers littered the floor. Undersized clothes that were ripped or torn had been tossed here and there across the living room. And the pungent smell of sweat and sex was impossible to ignore. But what made our jaw drop was the sight of Bucky in the kitchen area.

Six and a half feet tall, and beefy all over, Bucky was mindlessly chugging down what seemed to be another of our protein shakes. Straight from the blender. But that's not what surprised us. It was the fact that he was surrounded by four more empty blenders, each having residue of protein shakes already consumed.

We rushed over to Bucky, trying to get his attention. He was only supposed to drink one serving a day, had he really already consumed five protein shakes?

There was a long, nauseating pause as we waited for him to finish glugging down the thick drink. And then another dull pause as he stops to think, eyes slowly blinking like over taxed light bulbs. "Naw bruh, I think that was like...my two-teenth."

It takes us a second to respond, half because we needed to translate what he said, and half because that number couldn't possibly be right. I suspected that Benjamin had been drinking more than the one serving we told him to per day. But to think he was drinking TWELVE in one day?

"Huhhaha, naw bruh!" Bucky guffawed. "Ever since I saw what your guyses shakes could do, I been downing a good uh...um...like...two tens a day!" Even as we talked to him, mouths agape, he was stroking himself through his skin tight shorts. His enormous dick was bulging clear as day. "Think you bros could help me with this? I been jizzing like, non stop, and it's gettin harder to get a work out sesh in."

~Two years later~

Me and my brother had founded our company, selling our wildly popular new protein formula. Tweaks were made to it of course, making it far less potent. We also figured out what it did to Bucky. The original formula was breaking down connections in his brain to rewire his neurons, basically hyper optimizing him to be the biggest, horniest fuck boy...kinda by accident.

Now the formula only optimizes the muscle growth. At a reasonable pace, and with no loss of IQ points. As for Bucky? Well...

Me and my brother take care of him now. We put him to work of course, as the company poster boy for how good our products are. He wins bodybuilder competitions pretty regularly, which helps fund his enormous diet. Seven feet tall and five hundred pounds, Bucky needs a lot of funding just to maintain himself. And it's not like his current brain capacity allows him to find work on his own anyway, so the extra income from his winnings gives us a good boost to our funding as well.

Speaking of, we need to tend to our figurative golden goose. The big brute has his giant cock fixed to a milking machine in the mornings now, draining him of his semen and satisfying his sex drive at the same time. We're finding some fascinating things in his cum as well. It may help in our next product.

Officer Gets Geared Up

I hear a rough knocking on my front door, and I look up from my work with a smile. I couldn't believe it was already 8 PM, but I suppose working from home, you lose all sense of time. It's good that he's so punctual, otherwise I'd be stuck at my desk crunching numbers all night. I get up to answer the door and see him standing there, a sheepish look on his face as he looks down at me.

Officer Rockwell "Rocky" Stone. A pillar of the community, as his reputation would have you believe. Stalwart and loyal, dedicated to service and community, simultaneously friendly and strict. But if he had one defining trait about him, it's that he is a beast. Almost seven feet tall and absurdly heavy, Officer Rocky is his own living monument. Just shifting and flexing in his clothes, you could hear the fabric straining to contain his powerful biceps, even his chest threatened to pop every button on his shirt.

One wouldn't peg him the type to come lurking around my place, especially still in uniform. "C-can we hurry this up today?" He huffs in that deep, gruff voice. "I needs to get back to the house today, it's my anniversary and--"

"And what? You gonna please her with that limp noodle in your pants?" I chuckle. Rocky flushes red, in both anger and embarrassment, his hands clenching. "I joke, I joke, you know how I love to tease you." I wave him in, stepping to the side as Rocky hunches and twists to fit inside my doorway.

I lead him to the living room, his foot steps lightly rumble behind me. Before I can ask him to take a seat, Rocky chooses the edge of the couch and sinks down into it, undoing his uniform and beginning to undress. I suppose after doing this routine for a year, he knows the drill by heart at this point. I smile as I go fetch what I'd need. After a minute, I return to see my bull of a police officer shirtless. His heaving pecs partly obscure the top of his bulging abs, and his bulky arms drape themselves atop the back of the couch.

"We're really not wasting time today I see." I chuckle as I set down a small bottle, prepping the injection needle in my hand.

Rocky sighs. "I wouldn't have to waste your time if you'd just send me home with the stuff."

"And we know why I don't do that." I calmly retort as I fill up the needle. "I know your type, you'll overdose yourself because you can't get enough, and all of a sudden you're a babbling buffoon, unable to count the number of fingers you have but you'll at least have fifty pounds more lean muscle, right?" I fill up the injection needle, tapping the tip to let the bubbles out. "I hear the last one is living out happy enough as a permanent semen donor at a military facility."

He thinks I'm not watching, but I see how much he rolls his eyes. It's fine though. I don't mind being the mean daddy if it keeps my favorite pet out of trouble. Rocky gives me his arm, as I inject the needle into his bicep. He winces but this bull is more than used to the pain by now. I slowly inject the full dose as I can feel his body heat rising from where I stand. His breathing picks up and deepens as the chemicals work their magic.

At first he didn't like how my steroids make him feel. My special concoction accelerates the muscle growth process faster than anything on the market, with fewer side effects to his skin and overall health. He does however, go into what I can best describe as, a rut. His skin as well as his face flushes, blood flow pumping through him faster. My hulking police officer leans back, allowing more access to his bulging torso, much to my delight. It used to be that I had to coax him into letting me touch him, but these days he more than welcomes it.

Simply running my hands across his ample chest causes him to shiver. A low, satisfied groan gives away his satisfaction as I knead into his dense musculature. He truly is a marvel. Shoulders wider than most of my doors, leading down thick, powerful arms that could lift boulders with no effort. I even massage his chiseled, rock hard abs as Rocky continues to bask under my attention. Of course, I couldn't just leave his beautiful nipples unattended. I know he loves it as well, try as he might to deny it. I flick and play with the thick nubs, causing him to moan louder, and slightly higher. His meaty hands squeeze on the back of the couch. I then pinch and pull at his vulnerable nipples, softly at first, but quickly escalating to squeezing and yanking them down, wringing out gasps of pure pleasure out of him.

He gives me a look like he's about to shove me, but I know where he truly stands. I've made this man orgasm several times this way. The helpless officer writhes and contorts beneath my assault on his rock hard chest until he's shuddering beneath me in whining euphoria.

It's only until I can feel he's on the edge that I get up, letting him know that I need to give him the second part of todays dose. There's a shamed expression on his face, and surprisingly, he can't meet my gaze. "D-do I have to...?"

I look at him perplexed. "This is how we've always done it. One on the arm, one on the glutes. That's how the drug is most efficient. You know this." There's a long pause as if the wheels under that thick skull are actually moving for the first time in months. But, predictably because of how badly he wants these shots, he gets up to forcibly drop his trousers. He's wearing nothing underneath, which is how he typically likes to dress. No underwear means less to manage. His shrunken dick stands full mast at three measly inches. One of the unfortunate side effects of this particular steroid is massive shrinkage of his male genitals. I remember when he first started, he was quite the stallion. But that's not what surprised me.

As soon as the shamed police cop turns around to bare his ass, I notice his anus has been plugged, and with quite the girth stretching him wide. I hold back a chuckle as I ask what he shoved in himself. "Yeah yeah, get your laughs in doc." He groans. "My...my wife put this in me. It's one of the only ways I can cum now since...you know." His dick twitches, still rock hard despite the shame. Or maybe it was because of it.

"I'm not one to judge, officer." I sneer, second needle at the ready. "I enjoy a good plug myself every once in a while." The next shot goes right into Rocky's steel glutes, muscles rippling as I inject the clear fluid into him. I ask if his wife enjoys her husband being a big beefy bottom bitch, as his breath is once again labored and ragged. "Y-yeah...not at first but....she really knows...how to put me in my place..."

My hand mischievously grips the plug as he quivers, soft waves of orgasmic bliss pulse across his body. "Oh...I bet...she..." As I speak I slowly pull the plug out of him, noisily squelching as it grotesquely stretches him wide open. "...DOES." And then slam the plug right back into him. This sends cascades of pain and pleasure across his body as he actually cries out, his whole body shooting upright and rigid as he orgasms before me, muscles flexing and rippling as his powerful glutes squeeze down hard on the plug. His tiny dick pumps out shot after shot of cloudy white semen, staining the floor and his shuddering thighs. "Oops, did I accidentally ruin your precious night?"

Rocky eventually calms down, speaking between deep breaths. "Fuck you doc, I could keep going all week thanks to these shots." Oh I had very little doubt on that. With a swift spank of his gigantic ass, I bid him a good night as I still had lots of work to get done. He almost seemed a little disappointed, but who was I to keep the dear wife waiting on her muscle whore of a husband?

Officer Rockwell stepped out into the evening streets, his car waiting for him. Despite the proud, dignified demeanor he puts out to the world I can see the real him. The him that let his cum soak into his police uniform as he drives off towards home.

Skylar's Trade

He smiled broadly as he puffed out his chest to his client. Huge and muscular, while being lean and toned; he had a body that must would worship as god like beauty...but tonight he'd be shamed and debauched like the lecherous whore he presented himself as.

Skylar used to be smaller. Much smaller. He had liked it that way though, as it left him to blend into the crowd more. He didn't have many friends, and his awkwardness left him alienating others more often than not. He did have one thing going for him size wise, and that was his enormous cock.

Hung like a beast of burden with virility to match. Skylar's thick, pendulous meat swung eleven inches between his legs when hard, and his semen output would put bulls to shame.

But it wouldn't stay this way forever. A strange text message had been sent to him. "Would you like to exchange?" With a reply feature saying YES, or NO. What happens next couldn't be explained. Perhaps his finger slipped, maybe he was groggy from lack of sleep. Maybe he was curious, or was being ironic. But whatever the cause, his heart or his shoes, he sent the reply, saying YES to god knows who.

It was then that Skylar's changes began. Changes his friends couldn't explain. Skylar began hitting up the gym, more and more. Half an hour a day, one hour a day, three hours...weeks would pass and Skylar would be making progress and hitting goals at an exponential pace.

His once frail body was beginning to expand rapidly into a strong, beefy musculature. But that wasn't all that was changing. Inversely to his miraculous growth, his thoughts seemed to be dwindling in sharpness.

As an English lit major, he regularly made use of his advanced parlance; but his dialect gradually simplified, his vernacular being reduced to simpler words until his speech patterns became injected with gym slang like "bro" and "beasting". Soon, you'd have wondered if he even finished high school when his vocabulary seemed to be limited to monosyllabic responses and grunts.

All the while, his chest expanded into thick slabs of beefy muscle. Arms, once barely able to hold the bar, were now thick cords of raw power. His waist was trimmed and tough, as his wide frame tapered inward into a beautifully cut figure. Legs that were awkward in their frail clumsiness, now exploded with mass and power. Even the way Skylar walked exuded confidence as his strides became wider and heavier.

There was one other change that no one could explain. One that Skylar didn't mind as much. The more muscular he became, the smaller his crotch shrunk. Inch by precious inch, his once proud symbol of virility was gradually becoming quite average. Eventually, his manhood was barely considered as such, stopping at a mere three inches hard. His balls had dried up considerably, spewing out a pitiful amount of semen even on a good day.

And how Skylar reveled in it.

At the gym he'd get showered with affection and complements on his juicy physique. Yet when he'd post nudes on his social media, he'd be teased and shamed for his tiny dick. Emasculated and objectified, Skylar descended into a life of debauched pleasure. He loved letting other men get off on him. To use his body and to be made the play thing.

It wasn't long before Skylar left his college life. He made more than enough money for sexual favors, and only fans would sustain his everyday needs. He craved the shame that came with being a "dickless piece of meat." Bulking up bigger, stronger muscles because that's all he can do. Lift, eat, get fucked, repeat.

It would soon be all the knew. And it would be all he needed.

Photo Credit: Julian Tanaka

Kay's Night Out Part 1

Could you believe I knew this guy in high school? Could you believe he was almost a completely different person then? When I first met Kay, he was an honors student. Hard worker, very smart, but also really quiet. Most people didn't know what to make of him since he rarely ever talked, much less had friends.

We bumped into each other a lot, since I took a lot of the same classes as him. I was pretty smart in my own right, but Kay was the kid that you would think could make it to NASA and beyond. Well...it was until that night...

It was the end of year three of college. The dorms were pretty busy, some packing up to leave for home, some in the middle of celebrating and getting drunk. I was in my room, reading a YA novel I'd been putting off since I was as busy with classes. I was in a particularly exciting part when I heard a knocking at the door. Annoyed, I elected to ignore it at first, but the knocking was insistent so I got up with the intention of telling the guy to fuck off because I had no interest in getting drunk to party.

I open the door to find it wasn't Chad from the end of the hall pushing booze in my face. It was Kay. And it looked like he had a medicine bottle of...something.

He asked if he could come in to which I agreed, anxious since he had caught me off guard. "What's up Kay? Everything alright?" I asked. It was so strange because Kay had never approached me before. It was usually me going to him; asking questions, requesting favors, or just seeing if he needed company. Kay nodded quietly and leaned his wiry frame against the wall opposite my desk.

"I want you to go bar hopping with me." His voice was soft, but still quite direct.

I could only wonder if I misheard him somehow. "I-I'm....excuse me?"

"Bar hopping." He repeated, slightly louder. "You know, going from one bar to the next, drinking alcohol and--"

"No- no I get it, it's just..." I stammered from being so flustered. "You? Bar hopping? I can barely convince you to drink caffeine, why are we going bar hopping?"

----------------------------------------------

It was crazy that I was here. The Oasis was the local pub in our college area, and it took only five minutes to drive here from my dorm. And it would seem I'll be somewhat of a chauffeur tonight. "Are you sure about this?" I ask Kay as he opens the pill bottle he'd been carrying all this time.

"Mmhm." He nods. "I've been testing this all year. It'll work. I know."

Kay's confidence is somewhat reassuring, yet that niggling concern in the back of my brain hasn't stopped since we left my dorm room. I watch him pop the pill he'd taken out. The medicine he'd claimed to have been working on for years; even since we were juniors in high school. Nothing seemed to change outwardly, but I suppose that would have been a little premature.

I follow him inside, as The Oasis was filled with jovial college students and loud conversation. We found a corner towards the end of the bar with two empty seats, and took them. Kay speaks up, just barely audible over the crowd. "Remember, this is phase one. The changes will take time so we'll have to head to a different bar in the mean time." I nod as the bartender approaches us. "What can I get you boys."

"I'll take a water" I pipe up, then turning to Kay. "And he'll have--"

"Whiskey. Neat." My mouth was slightly agape at how matter of fact that order was. How does he even know what a 'neat' whiskey is?

The bartender looked at him like he had just heard a bad joke. It was clear to him and me that small, skinny Kay was not the type to drink often, if ever. So such a deceptively simple order got the bartender to be a little on the defensive. "You got ID, kid?"

Without skipping a beat, Kay reached into his back pocket and produced his state ID, and after confirming, the reluctant bartender returned with a small glass of whiskey and a tall glass of water for both of us. I was glad we had both recently turned 21, but that bartender could have easily just thrown us out on accusations of fake IDs with how bold Kay was being.

The moment of truth had come. Kay explained it to me as best he could, but the process was still a little confusing. "Whiskey though?" I asked tentatively.

Kay sighed. "I told you, the pill activates by absorbing a lot of the ethanol. In order for this to work, enough of the ethanol needs to make it to my bloodstream to dilate the vessels, thus maximizing output."

His matter of fact explanation only serves to draw a defeated sigh from me. "Yes. Right. Of course." He seems to know the specifics well enough, so it was time to just let Kay do his thing

as he sipped two gulps of whiskey straight down his gullet.

At fist there was...nothing. I sipped my water as I watched him intently. He didn't seem to react at all. "Did...it work...?" I asked him. He didn't respond, I don't think he quite knew the answer either. But then his breathing started to quicken. It was getting deeper and faster. He seemed to be beading up small droplets of sweat on his brow.

"There...there it is...!" He breathed out excitedly. He took another deep swig of his drink, finishing it off and leaving his money on the counter. "Come on!" With an enthusiasm I hadn't seen out of him before, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the place with shocking strength. For reference, I was five feet six inches tall, almost half a foot taller than Kay with a good thirty five pounds on him. Skinny little Kay was pulling me out of there like I was some kid.

We rushed to my car, and he explained to me that he didn't want others to see the changes. "So...so it's...?" I was confused because nothing seemed to be happening yet other than Kay sweating rivers off of his body. Instead of a coherent answer however, he started moaning and clutching his temples, as if he were having a migraine. But what happened next left me speechless.

Just as he had said, the pill combined with alcohol in his system was changing him. His wiry arms seemed to inflate on their own. Loose clothes were filling out with more body mass. And his definition showed off less bone and more muscle striations. Kay was gaining more and more muscular mass by the second.

Two minutes pass by and Kay seems to have gotten to a place of comfort again as he seemed to quiet down and settle into his new body. Both of us took long seconds to study the changes. Kay was ripped! He went from nerdy college kid to football player in a matter of minutes, and all it took was his new wonder pill and some booze! Just what the heck kind of research is he doing? I felt a little guilty thinking that if he looked way hotter this way.

In a fit of excitement I'd never seen from him before, Kay pulled me in for a big hug. I was somewhat flustered having his big, beefy arms around me but it was surprisingly nice. "Dude! It worked! It worked!" His jubilation was palpable, his bouncy motions shaking the car slightly. Once he released me he looked down at himself again. "God, I can't believe it took me this long to perfect the formula!"

I couldn't believe he did this at all. "Alright!" He exclaimed, patting me on the shoulder. "Next place! It'd be weird if you kept going in and out of the same place with a different looking guy each time, right?"

I nodded apprehensively as I turned on the car. Something suddenly occurred to me however as I shifted into drive. Something that Kay said that even more than his physique, really stood out all of a sudden.

In all the years I've known Kay, I had never heard him use the word 'dude' before.

My face perks up as I hear the door clatter open. I jump down from the couch onto all fours as I plod my way over to the door. The door opens to reveal my master, somewhat disheveled after his long day at work. I'm on my knees, hands curled forward in front of my chest. He smiles at me, happy to see me here waiting for him as he ordered. I would do anything to help him destress from his awful job.

He tells me to wait in the training room as he goes to wash up and get ready. I excitedly crawl over to the training room, filled with gym equipment and leather straps. I do my stretches as I gaze at myself in the mirror. Strong, sculpted chest with chiseled arms, with a well shaped abdomen leading down to well built thighs. It's been a year since I started training under master, and he's done a wonderful job making me into the muscular stud I am today.

"Hmph. You like looking at yourself, you dirty pup?" I jump a little when I hear my master who silently entered the room with me. He's got a dark look on his face, meaning he's got some aggression he wants to take it today.

Immediately we get started with push ups. Fifty to be exact. My master counts briskly, forcing me to keep apace with him. He gives me ten seconds before we go into crunches. Again, long yet fast paced. Fifty crunches in a little under fifty seconds.

I'm breathing hard through the mask, feeling the warmth of my own breath against my face. Next he has me do bench presses. This time though, he's stacked the weights more than I'm usually lifting. It takes a great deal of effort, but I finally get it off the wrack and bring the bar down just above my pecs. I breathe out to push up but am immediately stopped.

"I didn't say you could lift." I whine a little but get an angry look as I bite my tongue. "Hold, pup." The seconds tick by as my arms strain under the intense weight. The longer I hold, the hotter my limbs burn and the harder my lungs work. Almost ten seconds go by when master finally gives me permission to push. I groan deeply as my arms lift the weight. My dense pecs bulge marvelously from the pressure, and my arm muscles flex gloriously. I finally make it all the way up and I almost cry out in triumph.

"One." My gut sinks as my master counts but a single rep for that whole ordeal. He tells me I'm not nearly finished and orders me to continue. My arms slowly bring the bar back down and forces me to hold for another ten seconds before lifting again. "Two."

This continues for five more reps, and by the sixth, my arms are crying out in weakness. My whole body is soaked in my sweat, the punishing work out threatening to break my body. Master sees my weakness and helps me set the weight back onto the rack.

I lay there limp on the bench, gasping for air. My arms and my torso feel pumped, but weak, barely able to lift myself. Master orders me to stand, and I oblige. I show off my muscles as I flex for master, pushing my pecs together to show off cleavage. I love this part, where he looks over his training of me and sees how well I'm doing. He at least seems satisfied, which I smile widely.

We do more workouts for about an hour, my hard body on full display as the sweat runs down my skin and drenches my leather gear. "Good boy..." master pats me on the head, my exhausted body just barely standing. "You deserve a treat." He pulls a pair of white briefs from his pocket, somewhat dirty and damp besides. My eyes light up. It's the pair of briefs master wore today!

He stuffs it into my mask, trapping it against my nose. The deep, powerful smell of masters musk, sweat and filth overwhelms my senses. I get hard quickly, breathing in my masters essence as reward for my hard work.

He pulls my chin up to make me look at him. I dopily smile as I stare at my wonderful master. "You're a filthy puppy, but you also are growing nicely. Come. I'm gonna breed you deep with my seed." He always takes such good care of me. I wag my ass in excitement and content.

He'd changed. This was no longer the aspiring engineer you'd met in university ten years ago.

You had called a sexual escort, a muscular one, because you'd been feeling lonely. How shocked and surprised you were to find the guy who showed up at your door was an old friend. Well, what was left of him. Sure, he used to be pretty fit, but he also was quite wiry and neurotic. This person before you was horny, crass, and practically a gorilla as far as his body was concerned. The only reason you figured out it was him was his face, which even that had been altered a little during his, what you can only assume, bout with roid growth.

When you ask what happened, he simply replied that college wasn't quite worth the debt he was drowning himself in. That he had more and more trouble focusing over time. Besides, he'd found his calling, and he was happier than ever. He tells you this as he strips, finding a spot on your couch to really start putting on a show.

You noticed, his demeanor had changed quite a bit, not just his general body and attitude. His speech was slow and redundant, his words simple and short. You have no idea what happened to him but his bouncing ass distracts you. You want to ask more questions, but this guy you used to know was giving you the eye candy you'd been craving for, and the tent in your pants was hard and obvious.

He leans forward, sticking his globular ass out further in an obvious invitation. Questions can come later. Right now, you need to plow this hunky himbo into next week.