Short Story: A New Fitness Industry

Short Story: A new fitness industry

“Can we take a before photo for a gram first?” the annoying rich kid asked in a nasal tone. “Sure thing man!” Jace said, feigning enthusiasm as he mimed a fist bump, making sure to flex his bicep to the camera.

Jace used to love coming to bodybuilding conventions. He had fond memories of being able to strut around the show floor showing off his hard-earned physique to admirers, getting free swag from all the sponsors that were begging him to post a picture of their product to his socials, and taking a booth babe or two back to his hotel afterwards. Those were the days.

But with the invention of mind chips, that all had changed. Invented as part of a shady defense programme, mind chips allowed users to stream their consciousness to another person’s body, effectively allowing two individuals to swap bodies as long as the chips were switched on. While initially used for military and intelligence purposes, a private company named MindStream offered well-off individuals a chance to inhabit the body of their dreams. Bodybuilding shows like this one turned into meat markets, where those willing to pay could walk the show floor as their favourite fitness influencers.

Jace hated using a MindStream. While sex wasn’t allowed, he had come back to his body last year to find his dick rubbed raw after his swap partner had spent the whole convention furiously jerking himself off for the entire day. But the pay was just too good and he needed the money to fuel his campaign for his next shot at the Olympia title.

So here he was again, taking a photo with Danny, the skinny 18 year old son of some software tycoon that would have control of his body for the next 8 hours. “Shall we do this then?” Jace grumbled. He wanted to get the day over and done with as soon as he could. “Hell yeah man!” Danny replied enthusiastically as he pulled out his phone and opened the MindStream app. “Do you mind?” Danny asked, holding out his expensive-looking phone to Jace, “I can’t reach the chip past your traps”. Jace scoffed and snatched the phone out of his hands before holding it up against the back of his neck. He then roughly grabbed the boy by the shoulder and pushed his head down so he could scan the chip on the back of his head. Once both chips had been scanned, a dialog box opened, asking the two to consent to the stream. Danny accepted immediately, and looked up at Jace, eagerly waiting for him to do the same. Danny sighed and clicked the confirmation button.

The stream initiation process was always pretty jarring. As the chip redirected the neural signals of his brain, Jace’s vision blurred back and forth between his view looking down on Danny’s beaming face, and Danny’s view looking up at his sneering, hulking form. Finally, after a few nauseating moments, his vision stabilised and Jace found himself staring up at himself. “Holy shit dude, I’m huge!” Danny explained as he ran his hands all over his borrowed body. It must be such a rush to feel so much raw strength coursing through your veins for the first time. Jace had spent years building his muscular physique to perfection, while Danny had felt those gains wash over him in mere seconds.

Jace looked down at his temporary home. An oversized gym tee draped over his skinny form like a tent while his former abs had been replaced a small paunch. An unfamiliar feeling of weakness came across him as he looked at his pencil-thin arms. At least it was only 8 hours.

“Right, guess I’ll meet you back here in 8 hours so I can make the slot for my exhibition workout?” Jace said, the high-pitched tone surprising him. “Fuck yeah bro,” Danny said he tore his attention away from tracing each of his new cobblestone abs with his new meaty fingers. Danny took a few awkward steps in his giant-sized gym shoes as he got used to his heavier, longer stride before turning to Jace with an ecstatic look on his face. “How do you even walk with this thing slapping halfway down your leg!” he laughed before he walked off into the crowd.

Jace collapsed into a nearby chair. What the hell was he going to do for 8 hours? Out of curiosity, he pulled back the waistband of his borrowed pants, only to find the kid didn’t have much going on down there either. At least it was only 8 hours.

8 hours passed and Jace was getting impatient. Where the hell was this kid? If he wasn’t here in the next 10 minutes, Jace would terminate the Stream himself and the kid would be banned from the app. He just hoped the kid wasn’t doing anything dangerous in his body when he stopped the stream.

15 minutes later, Danny was still nowhere to be seen. Enraged, Jace pulled out his phone to cancel the stream, only to find that the phone in his pocket wasn’t his, it was the one Danny had earlier. Luckily it unlocked with facial recognition, and he went straight to the MindStream app. He pressed the cancel button - and waited. After a few moments, an error appeared “no active stream session located”. What the fuck!

The next half hour went by in a fit of panic. He called the MindStream helpline but they were adamant that they had no record of a stream taking place on his account that day. The kid’s bank accounts were empty and there was no record of a stream payment being made. Finally, he resorted to trying to find the kid’s contact information online, only to find no traces of him anywhere. A quick Google search told him the kid’s supposed billionaire father only had daughters.

Jace was furious, he stormed around the expo floor to see if he could find the kid. He finally spotted him working out on the main exhibition stage. His old body was shirtless, his muscular torso pumped and glistening with sweat. A crowd of fans cheered as he flexed his colossal chest, bouncing each of his huge pecs along with the music. The crowd roared in delight at the display, something they weren't used to seeing from Jace. The kid seemed to be enjoying himself as well, with most of the crowd transfixed at the sight of his raging hardon that was snaking down one of the legs of his gym shorts. Jace would normally have been more modest, but the imposter was taking every opportunity to flaunt his obscene package.

Jace slowly pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his current state making the progress slow going. Before crowds had parted for his massive form. Now he had to squeeze himself through the tiniest of gaps between the mass of bodies.

His old body saw him approach as he finally got to the front. “Give me my body back!” Jace tried to scream over the roar of the crowd and the thumping music. The imposter smirked before leaning closely towards Jace. Jace’s senses were bombarded by the potent smell of sweat coming off the beast of a man. Did he always smell like this after a workout? Jace’s tiny prick rose to full mast his pants. “Enjoy your new life, loser,” the imposter said quietly to him before standing back to address the crowd. “Hey everyone, this is the guy I swapped with today, let's give him a big cheer for helping me make it to Olympia this year!” his former body said as it roared over the crowd. The crowd erupted into applause, drowning out Jace’s protests. Danny gestured for the crowd to settle down. “But I’ve decided that today’s swap is going to be my last MondStream, the technology just creeps me out you know?” Danny said to the disappointment of many in the crowd. “I’ve dedicated my life to building this body to what it is today, and it’s that dedication that’s gonna get me to Olmpyia this year!” Danny roared as he pulled a most muscular pose, his entire body swelling with power as he flexed, angry veins popping out all over his skin. The fabric of his pants was pushed to the limit as they struggled to contain his engorged member.

The crowd roared as it surged forward as people tried to get a picture or an autograph with the future champion, leaving Jake staring up at everything he had lost.

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Balancing The Scales - The Pendant (Part 1)

In celebration of hitting 250 followers, I'm exploring a new series/universe with multiple parts. Enjoy!

High-ranking members of the incoming government have learned of a number of top-secret military programs commissioned under the former conservative administration. These programs sought to dominate the social media narrative by creating large numbers of influencers to sway potential voters. The most successful of these programs was Operation Alpha - which used a potent combination of technology and ancient magics to turn large numbers of gay men into submissive twinks while creating an army of alpha males who sought to dominate social media channels with their powerful physiques and handsome looks, all while promoting conservative messages to the masses.

Upon discovering the project, the new administration sought to undo the damage caused, but they soon realised having dozens of fitness influencers suddenly losing their godly bodies would cause havoc. Instead, they decided to rebalance the scales. These are the stories of those involved.

Subject #1 - The Pendant - Part 1

Things had taken a turn for Clint. He had been riding the high that was the former presidency and trolling all the betas on Instagram with his insane body and even more insane conspiracy theories. Then the liberals won the election and suddenly his handler had stopped all contact.

He remembered the day he had been approached by the man dressed in black all those years ago. Back in those days, Clint wasn't much more than an internet troll with an axe to grind against a world he viewed as unfair. Clint had drawn the genetic short straw of being short and pudgy with soft facial features and a tiny 3-inch penis. During his school days he was an easy target for bullies who constantly mocked him for his unfortunate appearance. Girls hardly took one look at him and if they did, it was to point and laugh.

Malice brewed inside Clint until he found his true calling, the internet. On the internet, it didn't matter that he was a pale nobody that puberty had seemed to pass by. He could do anything he wanted. And what he wanted was to ruin the lives of others. He spent hours being the worst kind of internet troll, eventually learning that this twisted hobby turned him on.

That's when the man dressed in black took notice. He offered Clint a chance to troll on a far grander scale. Clint couldn’t resist. The man dressed in black took him in a dark SUV to a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

“What are we doing here?” huffed Clint as he climbed the stairs into the warehouse. He hardly left his computer these days, so the small amount of exercise was causing his lungs to burn. The man dressed in black remained staunchly silent. The pair rounded a corner to be greeted by the sight of dozens of muscular men, bound and gagged. ”This is where you choose the body of your dreams,” said the man dressed in black with a flourish, “All you have to do is agree to spread our message to the masses''.

The thought of upgrading from his pathetic excuse for a body was appealing for Clint, but he was skeptical. “So you give me lipo and a bunch of plastic surgery so I look like one of these queers?” he asked. “No dear boy, we have more delicate ways than that”, smirked the man dressed in black. “You see, all of these men are members of the liberal agenda. Gay men who are threatening our ideal of a muscular alpha conservative. To advance our agenda, they must be dealt with. But why let all that masculinity go to waste when we can put it to good use?”. The man dressed in black pulled out an ornate pendant with a series of wires and microchips attached to it. “Aztec kings across the ages used this necklace to humiliate their adversaries by robbing them of the very essence that made them men. With our technology, we can harness that essence and redirect it”.

Clint’s eyes lit up as he realised the potential of the situation. “All you have to do is sign this contract agreeing to advance the conservative agenda”, explained the man dressed in black as he showed Clint a document on a tablet. Clint was thrilled at the prospect as he saw it as a win win win, an incredible body, getting paid to troll online, and one less queer in the world. He immediately signed. “Wise choice, now go and choose your donor. Feel free to inspect the meat as long and as thoroughly as you like. When you’ve made your selection, simply prick your finger and smear a drop of your blood on the pendent and grab the balls of the man you desire”. “Will it hurt?” Clint asked. “In a way” smiled the man dressed in black.

Clint began to walk between the rows of men. Each man was a prime physical specimen in their own way, some slender and ripped like male models, others tall and hulking like powerlifters. Despite their impressive physiques, each had a true look of fear in their eyes. “Pussys,” Clint thought, “these queers don’t even deserve their bodies”. He came across a man with the tight athletic physique of a fitness model. Although he wasn’t the biggest man in the room, Clint admired the fine symmetrical curves of his physique, his boy next door looks, and his golden tan. Clint reached out and felt the hardness of the man’s muscles. “Shit there isn’t an ounce of fat on you!” Clint exclaimed.

The next man also caught Clint’s eye. This was a hulking beast of a man, with huge cords of muscle adorning his 6'4" frame. The man's tree trunk arms were pushed out by his insane lats and his barrel chest jutted out so far that he wouldn’t even be able to see the cobblestone bricks that made up his thick core. All of this was topped off by a huge uncut cock that was thicker than Clint’s wrist with balls the size of oranges. Clint was taken aback by the heavy stench of pure testosterone that the beast was putting off. “Hard to believe a beast like you is a faggot” Clint said as he pinched the beast's biceps. While they weren’t as hard as the fitness models, they were definitely full and powerful. While the fitness model was built for aesthetics, this man was pure strength incarnate.

“How are you getting on?” the man dressed in black asked as he came alongside Clint. “It’s between these two. The feeling of going from this to being a ripped fitness model has a bit of poetic justice to it. But the idea of dominating as a hulking brute sounds hot as fuck” Clint explained. “Well don’t take too long,” said the man dressed in black as he left Clint alone once more. Clint sat and pondered as he watched the two queers thrash and struggle as they realised what could happen to them. The beast was showing such a display of strength that Clint was scared he might be able to break free and break every bone in his pathetic body.

Clint pricked his hand and wiped a drop of his blood on the pendant which instantly turned red. He hesitantly approached the thrashing beast and hefted one of his huge nuts in his hands. Both men threw their heads back and roared as the necklace emitted a blinding light.

Clint was also good at finding loopholes. As the light faded, Clint was revealed to be standing between the two men, his arms outstretched clutching both men’s sacks. Clint began to smirk and each man screamed in pain as they began to shink, losing their muscles and strength. Suddenly Clint felt pain course through every fiber of his being. “What’s happening to me?” he whimpered. After a few moments, the pain turned into ecstasy as his system was flooded with power. He roared as his balls swelled to the size of oranges sending testosterone coursing throughout his body. His bones snapped and cracked as they thickened and lengthened. His shoulders broadened and his feet grew to a monstrous size. Slabs of muscle began to fill out his frame, the size of which matched that of the Viking, but with the hardness and symmetry of the fitness model. He moaned as his face rearranged itself into something masculine yet boy next door and his skin took on a golden tan.

Clint looked at the two men's new twink-like physiques. He squeezed their significantly smaller packages in his hands, wringing the last drop of masculinity out of their bodies. His muscles grew more vascular and his chest and arms sprouted a fine dusting of hair. Finally, his dick grew to a full 10 inches long and so thick that he couldn’t fit his new manly mitts the whole way around its girth.

Clint let go of his two donors, and using both hands began furiously rubbing the length of his throbbing shaft until he neared climax. He marveled at his new powerful physique as he approached orgasm, veins popping all over his arms as something feral took over him. As bursts of thick ropes of cum began to erupt from his cock, he pulled a most muscular pose and roared in sheer power. This is what he was born to be. A god among men. An alpha.

The man dressed in black smiled. It was always fun when someone found a loophole.

Part 2 available here

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Short Story: The Power of Three

I followed the sound of manly grunts and the clanging of iron as I made my way across the deserted gym floor. I smelt him before I saw him. The heavy smell of sweat, musk, and cum filled my nostrils as I rounded the corner to the free weights area. And there he was, standing in front of the mirror. A beast of a man. His eyes locked to his monstrous physique as he performed rep after rep of perfect biceps curls. With each motion of the colossal weight, the muscles in his arms heaved and flexed, becoming more swollen and pumped. He roared as he pumped out the last few reps in his set before setting the huge dumbbells back on the rack. Such a raw display of strength. Our strength.

You see Brad wasn’t usually this muscular behemoth. A few days ago, Brad and I had found a ritual that purported to collate the power of many into one. Being the subject of numerous taunts at the hands of the bigger men in the gym, we conspired to funnel our strength into one of us. A bigger man to teach them a lesson and take the gym back for the everyman. We recruited our friend Phil and drew straws. Brad won. He would be our avatar.

We set up in the gym bathroom and began the ritual. After finishing the chant, I felt a wave of weakness wash over me as a beam of energy shot out of my chest into Brad. The same thing was happening with Phil on the other side of the circle. I felt my modest gym gains fading away, every ounce of masculinity being ringed from my body as if I were a sponge. My loss was Brad's gain. Brad’s body exploded with raw power. His bones cracked as they lengthened. His muscles began shifting and rippling beneath his skin as they grew and swelled. Within seconds he burst out of his clothing, the cotton unable to contain his growing bulk. Phil and I dropped to the floor weak and tired.

Brad stood above us, the epitome of a man. The strength of 3 men pulsed through his veins. Overwhelmed with the hormones coursing through his colossal body, Phil shot a torrent of cum out of his now-massive cock. After he came down his post-orgasmic bliss, he slipped on a pair of tight-fitting gym shorts and walked out into the gym to test his new body, leaving Phil and I passed out of the floor.

Brad cleaned up the gym in a matter of days. Now that the mission was completed, the three of us arranged a time to finally cast the counterspell. I waited in the showers, but the others never showed. No one was answering the phone so I made my way to the gym.

“Why didn’t you meet me in the showers?” I call as I approach the behemoth. His body is covered in a layer of sweat from his workout, his muscles glistening under the gym lights. “Sorry man, lost track of time, it’s just so intoxicating having this strength, this power,” Brad says as he pumps his biceps, marveling as they swell with power. “It’s like my body craves it. It wants me to push it to breaking point. It craves the pain” he says, transfixed on the web of veins in his forearms.

“Well let’s find Phil and get this done then,” I say as I turn to leave. “Ohh I don't think that will be happening, you see this body craves something else as well” Brad calls behind me. I turn to find Brad palming an obscene bulge his shorts. It’s then I notice Phil passed out naked on one of the benches, cum dripping from between his legs.

I look back at Phil as he peels off his sweat-soaked singlet, revealing his hulking torso. He walks slowly towards me, never breaking eye contact until he is towering above me. My nostrils are assaulted by the smell of his sweaty body, and I can practically feel the heat radiating off his massive form. He pulls his hand out of his shorts and licks some of the precum from his finger. “That’s the taste of a real man”, he rumbles, his beautiful eyes still locked on mine. “Want a taste?” he asks.

He slowly pulls down his pants exposing an obscene dick, rock hard and leaking precum. I gulp as Brad pulls me closer to him with his massive arms. His skin is so hot to the touch, he's practically radiating heat. As he holds me in his embrace, something just feels right. The strength of 3 men. The libido of 3 men. The power of 3 men. He deserves to be worshiped. And I am willing to serve.

The man dressed in black watched unseen from the other side of the gym. The Agency will be pleased with his progress.

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Short Story: Regifting

“Thanks so much for the shorts bro, they’re easily the best present I’ve ever received”, Doug said, as he relaxed his body by the pool. Cory couldn’t believe he had been so stupid.

Earlier in the day, his dorky flatmate Doug had surprised him with a container of expensive protein as a Christmas gift. Cory didn’t really think they were close enough to be on gift-giving terms, but not wanting to appear ungrateful, he quickly rummaged through his bag to find something to give to his skinny flatmate. Folded in the bottom of his bag was the pair of gaudy pink shorts that his father had given him for Christmas the day earlier.

Cory was the youngest of a family of hulking athletic men. He assumed that one day, his superior genetics would kick in and turn his body from a toned, athletic physique into one that was absolutely massive. It was Christmas day, and to Cory’s horror, his father had gifted him a pair of skimpy pink gym shorts. His hulking brothers acted as if it was the best present in the world, cheering and slapping him on the back with their huge hands to congratulate him on his present. But it was all lost on Cory. Why would he want some gross pair of pink shorts? Cory pulled out the shorts and threw them at Doug “Merry Christmas man, sorry I didn’t get round to wrapping them”.

“These are great!” beamed Doug as he admired the shorts, “I’ll throw them on and we can go for a swim”. Cory was relieved his deception had gone unnoticed. As Doug went to his room to get changed, Cory pulled out his phone and noticed there were dozens of confusing messages in his family group chat. Did you try them on yet? How did it feel bro? I remember when Dad gave me my stringer, it was sick! Make sure you send us an after picture big guy! “What are they on about?“ he said to himself as he scrolled through the chat.

The sound of heavy footsteps pulled his attention away from his phone. Had someone broken into the apartment? He rounded the corner to smack face-first into a pair of meaty pecs. Dazed, he looked up to find a smirk on Doug’s goofy face. Wait, why was he looking up? His view shifted down to see that Doug’s head was attached to a wide neck, flanked by impossibly thick traps and shoulders. Moving down, a huge chest and lats forced massive arms away from a ripped torso, each brick hard and clearly defined. Meaty thighs tightly filled out the pink pair of gym shorts, exposing the outline of a sizable bulge, the tip of which poked out one of the leg holes. Thick calves and huge feet rounded out the colossal figure in front of him.

“Cory, Cory!”. Doug snapped back to the present, greeted by the sight of Doug flexing his traps on the side of the pool. “As I was saying, it turns out that chick from the apartment across from ours is a real size queen, just seeing my package made her so wet, she practically slipped over as she dragged me into the pool shed!” Doug laughed, causing his pecs to bounce and flex. Cory still couldn't believe what happened. “Hey bro, I think I’m going to need that protein back”, Doug rumbled in his deep baritone “it was a gift from my sister, and it feels bad to regift a present from family!”

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Short Story: No one deserves to be alone on Christmas eve

It was Christmas eve. Everyone was spending the night with their loved ones, except Lucas. Lucas was a nobody, a wallflower that was never given a second glance. He had no one to spend the night with, so he went to his local gym in an attempt to get a head-start on his new year's resolution to put some muscle on his lanky frame. His spirits dropped as he realised that he struggled to lift even the lightest weights in the gym. “Why would anyone want to be with a pathetic excuse of a man like me?” he sighed.

An ancient presence heard his cry and took pity on the man and his loneliness. Drawing on the magic of old, it sent a blast of raw power towards Lucas’ form.

Lucas was struggling to wrack his weights when he was knocked off his feet by an invisible force. He writhed on the ground in pain, as his body began to explode outwards. Layer upon layer of muscle rippled below his skin. His back arched as testosterone coursed through his body, his features becoming more masculine and a thick beard sprouting from his face.

Several minutes later, the agony stopped and the gym was silent except for the sounds of Lucas’ heavy panting. He struggled to his feet, pausing momentarily as he was overcome with vertigo. As his vision cleared, he noticed his hulking form in the gym mirror. His prayers had been answered, he could no longer be ignored. He pulled out his cellphone, laughing at how small it looked in his large calloused hands. He snapped several shots of his new physique for his Grindr account. Instantly his phone started lighting up with offers of worship and lust.

Lucas smirked, looks like he won’t be alone on Christmas after all.

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Short Story: Mismatched

What the fuck dude! I stare dumbfounded at Rich as lifts his hoodie revealing a cut six-pack and huge meaty pecs. “What?” he replies as he rubs his meaty hands down his tanned torso, feeling the light dusting of hair underneath his calloused hands.

“Look at your legs dude!” I exclaim. He pulls up the legs of his gym shorts revealing a massive set of quads, covered in a web of veins pulsing just beneath the skin. “Ohh shit,” he says as he strokes his hands along the smooth slightly pink skin of his lower body.

“You must have grabbed the wrong set of shorts!” I yell angrily. “Well how was I supposed to know?” he complains, his submissive posture looking strange with such a masculine physique. “Well those shorts don’t go with those pants, so now your upper half doesn’t go with your bottom half!” I scream, panicking that our entire plan might have been compromised, “We have to sneak back in and get the right bodybuilder’s shorts!”.

“Maybe not just yet” he smirks as he looks into the waistband of his gym shorts. He moans in relief as he heaves the biggest, thickest, angriest cock I’ve ever seen out of his shorts, its deep red colour standing out against the tanned skin of his hands. “Maybe not just yet,” I mumble as I drop to my knees and take the huge mushroom tip into my mouth.

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