It’s not polite to stare at guys at the gym… but this one made it difficult not to.
He was MASSIVE. Big enough that he had to walk sideways through doors. Big enough to bench 400 without a spotter. This guy was so big, you could see his head poking out of the showers.
Yes, you watched him while he showered. While he worked out, while he dozed off in the sauna. You weren’t proud of it, but at least it motivated you to go to the gym in the first place.
You had memorized every curve of his body, every tattoo on his rough, taut skin. Sometimes, when you were alone in the steam room, you’d slip a hand down your shorts and fantasize about him sneaking in, nothing but a tiny towel around his waist, and using your eager ass. You hadn’t seen his cock yet, but you’d seen his bulge. The thing must have been 10 inches.
“Bro?”
You awoke from a trance. There he was, standing above you, blocking out the light. “How many sets you got left, bro?”
Speechless, you looked around you. You were “using” a bicep machine, mostly as a front row seat to watch the Guy pump his massive delts. Now he was staring you down, licking his lips like he was eyeing a fresh piece of meat.
“S—sorry,” you stammered, getting up and trying to hide your boner. “Y—you can have it.” You tried not to look back as you scurried off towards the lockers, but you just couldn’t resist. You snuck a glance at him, and your eyes met for a brief moment. He was still staring at you.
You made a B-line for the steam room. At your gym, the steam room was ALWAYS empty. It was the perfect place to hide. To fantasize. To masterbate.
The hot, humid air filled your lungs as you rushed inside and slammed the door. You were so horny, you thought you might burst. He had LOOKED at you. He had TALKED to you. Images of his glock-sized dick outlined in his gym shorts flooded your mind as you stuck your hand in yours, massaging your throbbing penis until you were on the verge of cumming.
The door opened.
You scrambled, taking your hand out of your shorts and sitting up. Your heart was pounding so loud you could literally hear it. Through the dense mist, you saw the outline of a massive man, breath heavy in the tense silence.
“So you wanna piece of this, bro?” The voice was familiar. It was him.
The words dried up in your mouth. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. And yet here he was, inching closer to you with a swagger that made your heart flutter.
“I said, do you wanna piece of this?” This time, he pointed to his dick. Yes, his dick. It was the first time you’d seen it and…
Drool leaked from your mouth. The thing was insane. 10-inches. Girthy. A shade darker than the rest of his skin. You needed to taste it. More than you needed water, more than you needed air.
“Please,” you whispered, and he grabbed your head and shoved your face into his crotch. His musk filled your nostrils, the smell exacerbated by the thick air and the intense workout he’d just finished.
You were cumming before his dick even touched your lips. At first, you were disappointed. You’d cum so fast, he hadn’t even gotten a chance to properly fuck you. But as you swallowed his sweaty protein stick (or as much of it as you could fit in your mouth), you realized that your orgasm hadn’t ended. It was still going, serotonin flooding your brain at such an alarming rate, you thought you might pass out.
“Fuck yeah, bro,” the guy said as he skull fucked you. You had lost all feeling in your body, becoming nothing but a rag doll for him to toss around. Trapped in perpetual orgasm, endless pleasure.
He picked you up. The feeling of his hands on your sensitive body was even more intensely erotic in this heightened state. Every second your skin spent against his, you could feel your body erupting and expanding. You imagined that you were becoming just like him—a tatted muscle monster of unbelievable size.
He placed you on top of him and slid all 10-inches of his meat into your ass. You’d been practicing for this moment, buying dildos of bigger and bigger sizes. But NOTHING could prepare you for the sheer size of his penis. You could feel every vein as he pushed himself inside of you, the weight of his dick head pressing against your prostate.
Your vision blurred. Coupled with the steam in the sauna, this made it difficult to make out the details of your respective bodies as you rode the Guy like a prized bull.
Even so… you could have sworn you’d gotten bigger. Not just a little bigger; your muscles were starting to show. With every orgasmic wave that rocked your body, you could see your muscles getting thicker and harder.
Just like him.
“Fuck me, bro,” you screamed in the steam room. You were starting to sound like him too. Same deep, commanding voice, peppered with a bit of stupidity.
Plus, the air around you wasn’t the only thing getting foggy. You’d been orgasming for what could have been ten minutes now, and it was starting to take a toll on your mind. Analytical thinking got tough, as a desire to pump iron and ride dick overrode your mind like malware in a computer.
“Yeah, like that, bro?” The Guy said, grabbing your hips and driving his cock even deeper inside of you. “I see you staring at me all the time. Sneaking looks in the shower, spying on me while I pump. Maybe now you’ll know how it feels like. Being the biggest dude at the gym.”
You moaned. The thought of it—of being just as big and sexy and scary as him—sent you to another plane of reality. Your dick spasmed and shot a fresh load of white hot cum over his sweaty abs. Your body mass increased tenfold, and you could feel the top of your head touch the roof of the sauna.
And then you felt something else, something new. A creeping sensation that seemed to start from his cock and pour throughout your body like running water. You looked over yourself, and began to see your skin change, darkening and hardening, dusting itself with hair as he pumped testosterone into you like gas in a car.
Most striking though were the tattoos. You saw color flood your arm in intricate and dazzling patterns, as he transformed you from just another muscle meat head to a giant tatted punk.
You brought up your newly tattooed bicep and gave it a flex. The size was unbelievable. Minutes ago, your head was the size of this bicep. Now, it was yours, decorated with marvelous patterns, glistening with sweat, and flaring as your body convulsed with one last orgasm.
So great was the final leg of your transformation from wannabe to full-on muscle god that you screamed. The tile beneath you cracked, and you flooded the room with your seed. Did someone hear you? Would people come rushing in?
Who cares! You thought. Together, you were going to be the kings of this gym. No one was going to mess with a 6-foot-7 slab of meat and ink.
As you slipped on an extra jockstrap the Guy had in his gym bag, you imagined all the lucky fuckers who were going to watch you work out and shower every day. Maybe if they went in the steam room, they’d actually get to see you fuck as well. And maybe—just maybe—you’d give them a taste of your dick, and change them into a muscle idol just like yourself.
You opened the steam room door, and stepped out into your new life.
