You Wipe The Sweat Off Your Brow As You Continue Trimming The Hedges. It's A Nice Sunny Day Out, And

You wipe the sweat off your brow as you continue trimming the hedges. It's a nice sunny day out, and you figured if you were gonna be working out here, you may as well get a nice tan out of it. Your jock strap stretches as you move, hugging your muscular hips tightly, and just barely covering your heavy, swinging junk.

You see him out of the corner of your eye, and smirk. You turn up the music in your wireless earphones, jamming out and swaying your tremendous glutes as you work. It's no secret why he hired you. He wanted a show as well as a well kept backyard. It was a little weird at first, when he presented your uniform as just a pair of tiny little shorts. But he also promised to help sponsor your bodybuilding endeavors as part of payment.

Your ass in particular, has made leaps and bounds in progress, and you liked to show off, pulling down your shorts every once in a while just to be cheeky.

You were distracted by the music however, and didn't hear him approach you, suddenly feeling his hand squeezing an ass cheek. The sudden touch sends a shiver of pleasure up your spine. He offers you some over time when you were done with the hedges, a special job that needs to be taken care of in the bedroom. With a smirk, you ask if he'd double your paycheck for it. In response, he sneaks his middle finger into your tight anus, causing you to gasp in surprise.

He'd triple your paycheck that day.

The open air feels chilly, but that's nothing compared to this public walk of shame.

Someone broke into your locker to steal your clothes after your workout, and now you're forced to endure the walk back home as curious pedestrians and leering onlookers gaze at your sculpted, godlike body.

What's worse, is that the shame and attention is beginning to make you erect.

The open air feels chilly, but that's nothing compared to this public walk of shame.

Someone broke into your locker to steal your clothes after your workout, and now you're forced to endure the walk back home as curious pedestrians and leering onlookers gaze at your sculpted, godlike body.

What's worse, is that the shame and attention is beginning to make you erect.

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.

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.

My story idea: Athletic guy/ongoing male nurse is into two things: fast heartbeats and that one pro bodybuilder who works out at the same gym.One evening, they're the last people in the gym. Horny stuff ensues.

I maintain a steady rhythm in the treadmill as my feet keep an even beat. My breathing is deep and fast, as sweat beads around my toned body. As soon as I hear the beeping from my phone, I stop the timer alarm and begin my cool down.

Thirty minutes jogging is a good way to keep your heart rate up. It's my favorite cooldown exercise whenever I make it to the gym. These days, unfortunately, it's not as often as I like. I'm able to come a couple times a week, and even then only in the late afternoon after I've clocked out of work. Being a nurse these days keeps one very...very busy.

I check my heart rate monitor as I finally step off. 120 bpm. *Not bad*, I thought to myself. Hopefully I can maintain this to go even longer.

I gulp down some water from my bottle when I see him again. I casually turn to the side so as not to be too obvious, but I can't take my eyes off him. Tall, tanned, dark hair with deep, brown eyes. Oh, and he's also three hundred pounds of beautifully cut bodybuilder muscle.

I take as many deep, slow breaths as I can, trying to calm myself. 100 bpm. The huge hunk with me is Ray. I haven't spoken to him...ever, but he is a popular figure in this gym. Comes very frequently, and has won several local bodybuilder competitions. I'm nowhere near as big as him, so I doubt he even notices me. But boy, does everyone else notice him.

Ray is so wide shouldered, he often has to squeeze his way past most doors. His chest is so massive, they bounce lightly even as he walks. There's a low soft thud with every step he takes. And then there's his...erm...well...

I don't know if he does this on purpose, but his gym shorts ride super high up his massive thighs. It's so tight around his crotch, that his massive cock and balls are plainly obvious to anyone happening to watch him. 80 bpm.

Uh oh. I think he's seen me. Have I been staring *this entire time??* I try to face forward, away from him hoping he'll just pass me by. I hear foot steps now. Heavy and quick. I glance over. Shit. He's coming over to me. 95 bpm.

"Hey," He calls out to me, his voice is deep and smooth. "You doing alright?"

I turn to him surprised, but try to play it cool. "Yeah, just finishing up my workout. Thanks for chesting-- CHECking...up...on me..." Fuck. I can feel my face getting beet red. His chest his so huge and distracting, I got thrown off. 105 bpm. I keep glancing at my heart monitor, trying to control my breathing, but it's not working.

"Just making sure, bro." He responded with a smile. "You're like, the last guy here."

Sure enough, I look around to see that he's not wrong. Aside from him, everyone else seems to have left already. "Well, not the last guy per se." I retorted. "You're here, right?"

His chest bounced lightly as he laughed. "I kinda work here, dude."

He did? "You do?"

"Yeah bro. I'm basically here every night." God, I can't get enough of his smile. And his body is so hot and sexy I just...oh no. I'm starting to get hard. 110 bpm. Escape. Abort.

"I uh, s-sorry. I gotta..." I turn to leave quickly, but his large hand grabs my own, pulling me and my attention towards him.

"Hold up, bro. It's just us tonight. The gym's basically closed, and..." he's giving me a look, hungry and sly. "...I'm fucking pent up."

I don't look down at my monitor. I can't. His gaze commands my attention, demands it. It's a side to him I've never seen before. And I can tell it's making my heart race even faster.

"Come on, don't play shy with me now." His expression softens but approaches dangerously close to my face. "I've seen you looking my way. I watch you too. That toned, slender body, with that cute, perky ass."

He grabs my ass roughly and I gasp, losing my balance as I grab his humongous pecs for support. My eyes widen, embarrassment painfully plain on my face. "No worries," He grins, almost as if reading my mind. He bounces and flexes his voluminous muscles. "Give em a good rub for me."

I can feel his fingers digging into my cheeks through my shorts. I've long since lost control of my breathing, letting out high pitched whines as I knead my hands into his chest. It's hard as steel when flexed, but has a forgiving yield when relaxed, almost like clay.

I can feel his breath in my ear as he whispers to go further, to explore more of his body. All the while my mind is a blur. I can barely comprehend the idea of me, a fairly average looking nurse, feeling up this herculean figure in the middle of the quietest gym in the world.

My hands travel downward, caressing his rick hard waist. My arms wrap around to feel up his back, wide and powerful, fit to burst with rippling muscles. My erection is impossible to hide by now. All eight inches straining against my briefs are pressed right up to his groin. I can feel his hard on too, rubbing against mine. It feels bigger.

I've long since lost track of my heart rate, but I can tell it's going crazy right now. With a loud grunt, he picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a game he just caught. I panic a little asking what he's doing. "You're coming home with me, bro." He growls excitedly. "I NEED your ass."

As he trots off to the locker rooms with me dangling over his shoulder, I check my monitor. 140 bpm. And by the time this guy was through with me tonight, I'll have gotten a true workout done.