Credit For This Image Goes To Maxx114. If You Enjoy This, Please Consider Donating To My Ko-fi Or Joining

Credit for this image goes to Maxx114. If you enjoy this, please consider donating to my ko-fi or joining my patreon to help fund my writing. More money means more free time to write these stories. :D Thanks!

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Trapped

Ever wonder how I got this big? It wasn’t steroids, if that’s what you think. Everyone thinks that. I always test clean, though. My body won’t take any drugs that aren’t medically necessary.

Why’d I word it that way? I can’t ... really say. My tongue will get tied. No literally, I mean my tongue will try to tie itself up. The minute I say something my body doesn’t like, my tongue will—

...

...

...

You can see what I mean.

I don’t know how it happened. I just ... can’t control it anymore. I’m trapped. No, literally, I’m tra—uhhhhhhhhh.....

...

...

...

Fuck.... I ... how long was I out?

Look, let’s just say my body is my top priority, okay? I treat it right so it’ll treat me right.

You’ve heard of muscle memory and all that stuff, right? Muscles learn, and so does your body. It does things you don’t even have to think about after a while. It just ... knows that’s what it’s supposed to do.

Some folks deal with their bodies eating themselves, immune system attacking healthy cells and going out of control for no reason. My body’s sort of the opposite. It’s gone into hyper mode to make me as healthy as I can. Every impulse, every step, day in and day out, my body’s health comes first.

...

Fuck, that felt good....

Sorry, call it ... a reward for compliance.

When I work out, what I eat, when I sleep, who I hang out with, all of it is centered around my body and the lifestyle it needs to keep this shape.

Fun fact. Did you know that the brain isn’t actually a muscle? While it is an organ, the majority of its composition and cellular structure has nothing to do with any kind of physical work in the sense that the arms or the legs might. The only muscle tissue involved in the brain has to do with the blood vessels that control where the blood flows, so your brain can get enough oxygen to keep functioning. And that muscle tissue functions as an insulator and, I guess you could say a sort of control valve to the blood vessels to regulate the flow.

Yeah, it’s pretty interesting. I’m what you might call a muscle man. In the traditional sense of the word, yes, I’m talking about my muscles, but I kind of mean it on a deeper sense. For me, it’s more than just dedication to my craft. I have to build my muscles. I have to get stronger. I have to be the very best my body can be. It’s not a choice for me anymore.

No, I mean it literally. I have to do it. I’ve lost so much because of this. And I may get some of it back with the recent success I’ve been having in the bodybuilding community, but it’s never going to be the same. I’m never going to be the same.

I’m never going back to the old me.

...

...

...

Sorry, I, uh ... zoned out again there. Another one of those rewards I mentioned.

The secret to my success? It’s all in my head. I mean, it started in my traps. You see how huge these things are. And then it was sort of like a rebellion at that point. An itch, a nag. I started building to level things out, get more even. But when I was satisfied, my body wasn’t. That’s when I started noticing ... things. Things that weren’t quite right.

I was sore every day, even on my rest days. And it got harder and harder to do the things I used to to relax. Going to the movies, eating at buffets, gaming in my off hours from work. I used to have a cheap ramen diet. That was one of the first things to go. Things were sort of subtle at first. My eyes would be drawn to supplements, health foods, all the things my budget wouldn’t necessarily allow me to enjoy, but I lingered over them anyway. I’d sit there and stare at them for five, then, fifteen minutes. And I knew I couldn’t afford to get these things, but ... I didn’t move either.

It started turning into a real problem that I didn’t understand, so I finally gave in and just bought one of the darned things. And just like that, I felt free to move again. There was even a warm feeling in my chest. You know, like the kind where you just did something really nice, and you feel good for it?

Eventually, there were some things that I couldn’t push myself to do anymore, though. Once the supplement was gone, the urge was back again, that strange stillness, all while I continued to ache. I was getting some great definition, but ... I was concerned. I didn’t want to go to the doctor. Didn’t have enough to cover a visit. I was barely scraping by with my other work.

It was work, then home exercises, then shower, then meals and supplements, bed, repeat. I was as surprised as my friends and family when I logged into my social media accounts one day and saw my tags had changed. Vacant, empty stares were in every picture of my increasingly muscular body.

And I never remembered taking any of them.

I was scared, but ... I don’t know whether it was the shock or what, but ... I didn’t feel it so badly. Kind of like a jump scare, you know? There in a moment, gone the next. Instead, my heart started pounding. I felt that itch. My usual patch of floor was waiting.

...

And then I was working out.

I don’t mean I chose to. I mean ....

You know what it’s like to go through an out of body experience, right?

It was something like that, except I was still in the car, so to speak. I just ... watched.

It was the freakiest thing I had ever experienced.

And I knew I needed to see a doctor then. This wasn’t normal behavior.

I met with the doctor first, then got forwarded to a psychiatrist.

You can guess where this is going. I was given pills, told to take them, report back on how I feel in the next couple of weeks after they’ve had time to build up in my system.

I tried. I really did.

It didn’t help.

I don’t know whether they were placebos or something else, but things just ... kept going the same way. My muscles got bigger. And I got ... smaller, I guess. Not physically, but mentally. I was literally losing control of my own body. It wasn’t hurting anyone directly, but it frightened me.

I tried everything. Hypnosis, self-help books. Heck, I even checked into a psych ward to see if they could figure out what was going on with me. Nothing worked.

When I did the things myself, doctors say I was being rewarded. Dopamine and all those other hormones and chemicals shot through the roof, well beyond the norm for the average male. When I resisted, however, something ... different was discovered.

In a very real way, it was like coordinated mutiny. Bloodflow in my brain literally shifted as some of the valves tightened and others opened full blast. And as they did, I found myself being the passenger again. When I tried to eat certain foods, my limbs would go limp. I literally couldn’t even feel them. If I tried to go somewhere that wasn’t conducive to my body’s welfare, I would find myself suddenly unable to progress past a certain point. Or worse yet, jogging right past and not stopping.

I couldn’t type or write certain words or phrases. And the more I grew, the ... fuzzier things became, I suppose. When I hunch forward like this, it’s not so much a habit or for comfort as a ... friendly reminder. Kind of like My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The neck controls wherever the head turns.

I’m a pris—

...

I’m a pri—

...

I’m a pris—uhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

I’m a pristine example of the fruits of hard work and discipline.

It is my intention to continue to grow and exceed expectations in competition. It’s just a matter of listening to your body. When you listen to your body, you are rewarded by your body.

...

Yes, everything is fine now. You could say we’ve come to an understanding since then. I can honestly say this is the most pleasurable life I could ever hope to have. Some things have changed, but I’m happy. And happiness is what matters in the end. I do what my body wants, and it rewards me, just like everyone else. Now, I hope you’ll excuse me, but it’s time for me to get back to work. My body wants to break its record today at the squat rack.

Don’t worry, I just cry randomly sometimes. Don’t know if it’s something in the air or just a thing, but I live with it. Thanks again for the interview. Goodbye!

...

...

...

A behemoth of muscle and strength sits on a bench before a mirror and stares at his reflection as he reaches for two massive dumbbells.

Now, then. What do we need?

A low groan fills the room as the eyes lose focus and the tears cease to fall. Shoulders rise and fall, prompting the trapezius muscles to almost massage his neck with his deltoids and pectorals. The lips smack. The tongue lolls and lashes momentarily in the mouth before finally settling limply, meekly against the base. The breathing grows deep and steady as his cheeks flush in euphoria and the weights clank with the beginnings of reps.

WE ... NEED ... TO WORK OUT....

The twitch of a smirk pulls at his face in the mirror.

Good boy.

The eyes roll briefly.

You won’t be talking about us like that again, will you?

Another groan. The eyes grow dull in their gaze as the body continues to rep.

NO ... SIR....

Good boy. Listen to your body....

OBEY MY BODY....

No more School of Buff Jocks?

For now, it’s on hiatus. It was a commission series, and the pandemic kind of shot the economy, so I put it on the backburner. It’s not dead, but it may take some more time before the next chapter is ready to be published, since other projects have taken my attention and the commissioner hasn’t contacted me yet to say that he’s ready to move forward with the project again. If any of you followers would like to pool funds to help get the next chapter going faster, let me know, and reach out to @muscle-jock-bro to coordinate with him on it, too, since he’s the original commissioner. My rate is $20 per thousand words, FYI.

Credit goes to @musclecorps​ is for this image before he shut down his tumblr and I lost a massive chunk of images I had stored in my likes for use in future stories and series. XD That’s how the cookie crumbles sometimes. Anyway, for some reason, someone decided to flag this chapter of Endemic Evolution. And tumblr decided, in all its wisdom, not to notify me of the fact. I can’t appeal it now, because that time limit has long since expired. I only recently discovered this problem today, because I was looking through my previous posts to see what might need clearing out, etc. Oh, and here’s the real kicker. It wasn’t even shown in my flagged posts section either. I wonder why that is? Can anyone explain that fact to me? Or is this one of those signs of tumblr blatantly trying to silence anyone it deems doesn’t adhere to its vision, despite following their guidelines perfectly? I’ll let you readers decide that for yourselves. Anyway, because I know how one-sided an appeal will be from previous experience, and the fact that no one will actually let me talk with and discuss the ruling with anyone from their content management department (other than being notified that the content management department has decided to let the ruling stand and give me cookie cutter links to their guidelines telling me to look there for more information when I’ve already looked there and want to dispute the claims with an actual PERSON using the language found in said guidelines. Does it hurt to ask for a little accountability and justification from that team, @staff?), I’m cutting out the middleman by deleting the original and reposting it. This time, I’ll even include a disclaimer, so readers can understand the fact that this chapter is intended for an older audience.

...

*Ahem.*

DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY!

This chapter is written in the form of a medical journal entry recording. As such, there will be references to human anatomy, symptoms of the fictional illness, etc. There will also be some language involved, and there will be signs of the doctor who is speaking in this recording manifesting some of those very same symptoms that he is listing. There is no sexually explicit content in this story. However, there is frank language used in describing the patients and their symptoms, and (as I said earlier) there is reference to human anatomy and patient behavior. While the word “masturbation” is used in the chapter, there is no description of that act being performed. It is merely a reference of symptom manifestation as the fictional disease progresses, and is listed as such. You have been warned. Please, do not flag this post. I’ll even make sure to close off the content below with a read more link, just to be on the safe side, so only the people who are really sure they want to proceed can read it.

Thank you,

~ Omni

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Previous Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181040364417/endemic-evolution-as-you-can-see-weve

Next Chapter: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/181128775917/endemic-evolution-chapter-3-doctor-lee-chen-barton

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Endemic Evolution Chapter 2

“This is Doctor Simmons reporting in. I have opted for a video recording for this particular report for the sake of observation and for other reasons which I shall elaborate upon shortly. First, a recap and report of more personal note.

“It has been approximately two weeks since my first contact with these carriers of the disease we have chosen to classify as Meatheadosis. It was not my idea, but I wasn’t brought on scene at the beginning of the outbreak, so I suppose I don’t get to complain. Our generous host Mister Malloy fell prey to his infection shortly after our first meeting began. The effects of this phenomenon are positively astounding. If a means could be developed to isolate and control the virus’ effects, or at least tone them back, this disease could work miracles across the globe.

“Due to the lateness of the Holiday Season, I have had no choice but to cancel my plans for Christmas with the family. This has received mixed results, but it has to be done, for research and for the sake of our country’s future.

“Accommodations here are wonderful. Malloy has been kind enough to offer me one of his best suites. I feel more relaxed and loose than I have in over a decade. The others have also enjoyed their own rooms.

“Now on to the main report. Initial observation indicates that this virus attacks and rewrites the synapses in the brain, breaking down old connections and building new ones associated specifically with muscle memory and other such more physical things. Due to this forced rewiring of the brain, the subject becomes less and less focused on previous passions and ideals. It is not accurate to say so much that they have become dumber as it is to say that their intelligence has been reallocated into an obsession with physical perfection that borders on zealous.

“Indeed, the loss of intelligence that has been noted previously appears to only occur as the subject focuses more on enjoying and enhancing his body. Symptoms include absented-mindedness, repetitive daydreaming, subconscious flexing, personal worship, flexing, muscle worship, posing, spontaneous laughter, flexing, a distinct lack of complex sentence structure, degradation of vocabulary, and flexing.

“Some have taken to repeating various mantras and prose to give them motivation. It’s very catchy. For example: One, two, three, four. Growing muscle more and more. Five, six, seven, eight. Work out, get swole, bulk up, inflate.

“The sheer unity they demonstrate is positively mind-boggling. It’s almost as though they were functioning in a pack or a hive mind of some sort, but of course that’s not possible. Still, it does stick, doesn’t it…?

“Ahem. Anyway, It’s my theory that those effected have the electrical impulses of the brain muted when it comes to activities that … mmmph, don’t contribute to this new mode of lifestyle. Then, when the individual utilizes weights or performs some other form of physical exertion, like say a flex…

“Oh, that felt good. Where, uh … where was I?

“Oh, yes. The impulses. I believe the electrical impulses are released into the new synapses to trigger intense pleasure and other sensations that reinforce their newfound aggressive and, dare I say, brutish behavior. For example, lowered inhibitions contribute to behaviors such as openly scratching or ‘cupping’ one’s manhood, heralding immature behavior such as belching with cheers and approbation, and giving in to one’s baser sexual instincts by masturbating to ‘take the edge off.’

“It appears that the more the subjects indulge in these actions, the faster they degrade. I have designated the levels or stages of this disease’s progress into distinct categories from the first symptoms to the farthest gone. The earliest ones who are just starting out are known as Pledges. Part of this has to do with the meathead frat mentality that is rapidly becoming more prevalent in the subjects. It seems that those who are farther along in this … metamorphosis have the ability to home in on those who have contracted the disease somehow, granting them the ability to tease, heckle, and otherwise (for lack of a better word) haze an individual before they begin to progress, or perhaps regress is the better term.

“Next comes the Jock stage. Men in this stage still retain most of their former hobbies, habits, and behavioral patterns, but take a keener interest in sports and fitness than they have previously. Muscles will harden and expand, fat will burn away, and inhibitions will begin to die as other men farther along tease and encourage. Eventually, the Jock will grow accustomed to these modes of address and adopt them for himself.

“Excuse me for a moment. I need to take a selfie for my wife. … There we go. I think she’ll enjoy that. I know I did. “Now then, back on topic. In due course, the moniker of Gym Rat is earned. At this stage, the subject cannot stop thinking about their personal fitness. The gym essentially becomes their home. Fortunately, this hotel comes with a fully stocked top-of-the-line gym complete with equipment for our patients to use. The subject will become obsessed with diet and getting as much lean protein as possible to bulk up. It is generally around this stage that the manhood of the subjects begins to swell and increase in size. The extra testosterone that is the inevitable result of this stage triggers their development into the next one.

“The Meathead is essentially the finished product. At this point, the mind degrades to only want to discuss ‘manly’ things. Weights, anatomy, sex life, etc. They are quite literally muscleheads in every sense of the word. Cursing, swearing, and various other modes of language are often another indicator of their loss in intelligence. These can occur as early as the Jock stage, though the Pledges usually either do or don’t due to their previous life choices, not as a result of their metamorphosis.

“Now we come to what I believe would be considered a mutation of sorts in the usual strain. I speak of what we have chosen to dub the Alpha. These Meatheads are in a class all their own; the largest, burliest, most aggressive and dominant of their flock. This makes them the de facto leaders of their fellow Meatheads, and they make sure the others know it regularly.

“One of their favorite pastimes is comparing size and encouraging others in their growth in their own ways. Malloy quickly ascended to this kingly position. Considering he was the owner and manager of his hotel, it only makes sense that he would be. However, it seems he took a liking to me and Barton before he achieved this most coveted of positions.

“Communication with them requires me to channel my inner highschooler. Fortunately, I’m well endowed, or as they would say it, hung as fuck. Mmm … it does look nice pressing out against the crotch in my sweatpants, doesn’t it? I’ve taken to patting it and smirking at the ‘higher-ups’ to make them think I’m conforming. This usually allows me the ability to interact with others more freely as we exercise. I will admit that I can’t help but compare my size every other day or so, though. Even I am not immune to the vain desire to reach that ideal male aesthetic of large and satisfying anatomy.

“Mmph … maybe just one more for the missus.

“The gym is never closed, and Barton has reported sightings of, if you’ll believe it, sleepwalking subjects that perform exercises in their sleep. This, in turn, wears them down mentally with tiredness and makes it easier for them to fall under the influence of an Alpha or other higher ranked subject in a form of what seems almost to be hypnosis.

“By the next day, they’ve usually jumped a rank.

“As for me, I am striving to match the ideal rank of Jock. It’s not too far along, and my healthier frame is an almost perfect fit, while most of the research team is too out of shape. I’ve even been practicing my dumb laugh. It’s surprisingly simple. Then again, simplicity is kind of the point with minds like this.”

“Yo, Simmons, Malloy wants to see you!”

“… And that would be my cue to go. Wish me luck. I go to meet the council of Alphas. I wonder. Should I start with the double flex or perhaps the crab pose…? Mmph … so much to choose from. I can hardly think which would be best.”

“Come on, coach, let’s go!”

“Hmm … hardly think. Must be … nice….”

“Coach?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Barton. My mind was … elsewhere. Come on. Let’s go. Don't want to keep our patients waiting.”

“Ready for the flex-off?”

“Huhuh. I’m always ready for a flex-off….”

Thrift ’N Shift

Credit to @blondboytoys for this image. Found it in a reblog, but they’re the source.

If you like what you see here, consider joining my patreon for monthly story rewards exclusive to patrons.

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Mark smiled as he walked into the store. With the economy the way it had been, thrift stores like these were a godsend to teens and adults alike. Electronics, clothes, cookware, you name it, they usually had something to offer. What better place to burn a few bucks?

The store was well stocked with many an item on clothes racks or stored on shelves and in cases to view. Mark made straight for the clothing. If he was going to have a laugh, this would be a good place to start. He couldn’t help but smirk as he eyed one of the hangers. Two thin straps draped on either branch, hemmed with blue, yellow, and orange thread. A veritable rainbow spectrum shone across the brand label over the left side of the chest.

A lift of the hanger and one click of his cell phone later, and he’d sent the text.

Who wants to see me in this?

The flood of emotes ranged from crying laughter to shut eyes laughing and more. The messages varied, but their intent was about the same, that single push of, DO IT!

Mark swept a few extra random articles for good measure and made his way toward the dressing room. The stall was spacious and included a tall mirror for the occupants to see how the clothing fit. Mark didn’t hesitate. He quickly stripped out of his shirt and shuffled the tank top over his body. The shirt felt more like a nightgown than a proper garment, but at least it didn’t fall off his shoulders. He chuckled and raised his phone, then snapped a quick selfie.

What do you think, “bros?” :P

DUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!

BRO!

I can’t believe you actually did it!

Mark couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the attention flooding in. The phone continued to ping as he gazed at his reflection and rubbed his chin. If he really wanted to up the hilarity, he knew what he needed to do. He flexed a bicep and held the phone overhead, then snapped.

Do you even lift, bro? #python #big gun #LOL #Muscleheadamok #Bruh

He chuckled as another flood of replies flowed in. As he looked over the picture, he couldn’t help but rub his chin in thought. The way the straps fell over his chest actually didn’t look half bad. A little uneven, though.

He strode out of the room briefly and tapped a patron on the shoulder. “Excuse me. Sorry to be a bother, but could you just take a quick picture for me?”

The man who turned to face him was portly with a white sweater vest draping over his frame. An old fashioned smoke pipe curved from between his lips to rest against his palm as he blinked and focused on the teen. “What was that?” the man asked. The accent that flowed was a strange blend of American and British, almost as if he were trying to force it. He furrowed his brow as his waxed mustache twitched. “Oh, a picture. Of course. Of course. No trouble.” He proffered a hand and easily panned the frame while he clenched the pipe in his teeth.

The camera flashed. Mark blinked. He didn’t remember turning that function on.

“I hope that worked, young man. I never can seem to get these phones to work properly. Confounded things are more trouble than they’re worth, if you ask me. Give me my pipe and a good book any day of the week.” Smoke billowed from between the man’s lips, but he didn’t seem to care or mind the fact he was smoking in the store. Had he ... been doing that before? The accent definitely sounded more authentic this time around. Maybe it was practice? Practice does make perfect.

“Uh, ... thanks,” Mark said as he seized his phone. The man smiled and walked away, leaving what appeared to be a pager on the floor as he disappeared into the crowd. Another blink, and the device suddenly had a price tag on it. Mark crouched, picked it up, and placed it on one of the many shelves nearby. Though he had no idea who would want to even buy something so antiquated. He chuckled as he walked away and peered at the photo. His hair had been carefully styled to emphasize his forehead without making it overly large compared to the rest of his frame. The muscles under the fabric were toned, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He wasn’t a musclehead, but he looked good. “Not bad, ‘bro.’ Huhuh.”

The chuckle felt almost like a cough, and Mark rubbed his throat as his eyes furrowed. He circulated the photo in the thread and smiled as the replies flooded in.

Dude, have you been working out?

You gonna buy it or what?

Lookin’ good, bro. Sun’s out, guns out!

He hardly paid attention as the dressing room door creaked open under his touch, then shut behind him. Instead, his eyes locked on the floor-length mirror again. He frowned as he scrutinized his face, his shoulders, the way the shirt hung over his frame. Something seemed ... off, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Maybe it’s the look?” he questioned, even as his voice cracked and dropped. He cleared his throat and swallowed again. His vocal cords tingled, but at least there wasn’t any annoying tickle. Those things were the worst. He swallowed again and smiled as his Adam’s apple bobbed in time with the motion. He took a certain pride in that size after the teasing he’d received in the earlier days of his youth.

“When are your balls gonna drop, bro?”

Mark smiled and spread his arms wide in the mirror. “Good fruit takes time to ripen, bro.” He shuddered, and his eyes rolled in pleasure as he drew his head back, thrust his chin forward and flexed. This time, he shot the mirror a cocky grin. “Damn, you sound sexy,” he rumbled. His chest rose and fell in time as he flexed and posed. He looked good, but as he eyed the jeans sheathing his legs, he frowned. The clothes pile was there, just waiting, and he knew what he wanted, what he needed to make the look really work.

Shucking the jeans felt so freeing as meaty thighs and thick calves hardened into sculpture. His hand drifted over his briefs. He blinked, and the familiar pressure of cotton hugged his bulge. Before he knew it, the camera flash went off. Meaty thumbs jabbed heavily at the touchscreen on his phone as a flexing bicep swelled into prominence over the whole surface before opening to his main feed. He punched against the keys and smirked cockily as he hit the post button.

This new tank’s growing on me. Think I’ll run it through its paces.

It didn’t take long for notifications to start flooding in. His chest swelled with pride as his torso broadened. He huffed another chuckle. The cool air tingled against the stubble on the sides of his head. The new fade cut helped to emphasize the angularity in his facial features. Wads of button-up shirts and slacks with suspenders went by the wayside as he dug like a dog after its bone until he finally unearthed the clothes he was looking for.

The sleek shiny black material of the shorts was cool and breezy as he pulled the garment up his legs and gazed at the mirror. He looked ready to run, and his heart hammered in anticipation of the act. His breathing came heavier and faster as his skin tingled and stretched taut. Another flex and pop, pop, snap, pop! Veins burst into existence, as if the muscles were forcing them out of some hidden sheath or hole. Blood surged in his ears.

“Bro....” His head felt ... strange, light, fuzzy, stuffed.

Another flash. This time, the photo showed a glazed stare with his mouth slightly agape. Emotes surged with icons of steaks, meat on bones, flexing biceps, starry eyes, hearts, and more. He even heard the familiar ring of a cash register going off. A notification for deposits into an account, donations from adoring fans.

Can’t wait for the vid.

Show us that pump!

Fuck, get to the gym already!

The gym...? Did he ... have an appointment there? His thumb drifted hesitantly over the screen and brushed the dollar icon at the bottom of the app’s menu. His eyes widened at the total. +$2300.20 and still rising, just from today’s pics alone. “The fuck...?” He scrawled through the main post feed. Post after post and selfie after selfie revealed all manner of poses and stances. Some in briefs. Some in jockstraps. Some in tight compression gear to show off the definition in his muscles. Occasionally, a workout video would surface showing him pumping some impossibly large weight to force his body to show off with sleek sweat and clinging gymwear. How ... could this be him? Some of those dates were clearly game nights, times to hang out with his bros and totally invite them to the gym.

...

Wait, ... that wasn’t....

FLASH

Right ... right.... He gazed at a timeline .gif as four tiny bros swelled into big meaty models, grinning with two on either side of his giant frame. From nerds to studs and stats to lats. The tank top clung to his shoulders and pecs now as his brow lowered over the sight and a dull chuckle huffed out his anxiety. Game night meant teaching them how to get game. And who better to teach them than the master himself?

Mark grinned cockily as he snapped another pic. Then a new message pinged on the app.

Stop posing and start running, bro. We’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get your ass over here already!

Mark chuckled. His little bros were starting to grow some fangs. He strode out from the changing room and sighed. Guess he’d have to look for some shirts to tear off for his fans later. As he left, he bumped into one of the attendants. “Oh, uh, sorry, bro. Didn’t see ya there.” He rubbed his head awkwardly, showing off his lats and biceps. “Uh, ... I gotta go, but I don’t got time to return the rest of the gear in there. You think you can, uh, you know....?” The bristles over his scalp scraped against his hand, leaving a pleasant tingle to course through his body as a result.

“Of course, Sir.” The clerk smiled. “Did you find what you wanted?”

“Not yet, but ... I’ll be back.” He pulled out his wallet from a pocket and shoved a fifty into the worker’s hand. “For the trouble. Thanks, little bro.” And then he was off with his boulder legs stomping the ground as he charged through the store and into the light beyond. The gym was calling, and he couldn’t keep his bros, let alone his fans, waiting.

The attendant crouched and picked up a tee shirt from the floor. The captioning on it read Just an Ordinary Teenager. “Thank you for the business.” He chuckled and shook his head as he picked it up. “Someone in a midlife crisis is going to love you.” He sighed as he looked over a clipboard. “I suppose I should get the bodybuilding inventory out. If that lummox comes back, he’s practically guaranteed to pick that next as a life course. He smirked as he checked a familiar looking app on his phone while his muscles strained ever so slightly against his uniform. “He’ll certainly have enough money for it.” He chuckled as he made his way into the changing room and retrieved the clothing the behemoth had left behind. “I wonder what his friends will choose if he brings them here....”

no more Coach Stone?

Coach stone is still very much alive in my head, and I do intend to visit him again eventually. Life is just too hectic right now for me to do so with all the Patreon duties and real world obligations I have to deal with right now.

Love the latest Down Payment story!! Hope it would have a chance to continue with a prequel and sequels!!

Thanks so much for the praise. I'm not sure whether it will or not, but it certainly has potential for them. So we'll see what happens.