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Reblog to make it die faster

Testing out a new nano-gas flavor for customers with...softer, rounder tastes.

GEROLD!!!!!!!

HOW MANY TIME I TOLDED YOU

NOT TO SMÆNCH MY TUMPUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR HAVE NO RASPECT FOR MY LITTLE TUMP I HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THIS!!!!!!!

GEROLG HELL TO YOU FOOL ! 

DULLARD

A few "Uncanny Valley" muscle monsters. The AI has a hard time with natural looking eyes from time to time

Makes sense that the massive Massworx club would have a casino. Joint work between @massfactory and I

I can come in many flavors, all of them big! Don't mind the bulge, it doesn't hurt me, being a slime and all. Or DO mind it, whatever works for you~

Caught you 'mirin'

Oh I'm just chilling. Wanna join me?

Some of the advanced slime guards have masks to help them see things, like X-ray vision and such so you can't escape from being made into a hulking beast. What a problem, right?

More slime guards! They really get around.

Slime Servitor

Some of the roving slime guards are cute frankly!

You can tell when he's here doing his cardio, without even looking.

All the nearby treadmills shake and rattle.

Mmmhhhhh....... nothing better than pumped muscles and a belly that's packed tight...... still hungry though!

Sarah drifted off to sleep, dreaming of having large breasts. As she slept deeper, something magical began to happen. Her flat chest slowly grew until it was the size of giant melons and covered her whole torso and abdomen.

At first, Sarah didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She was simply enjoying a peaceful night's sleep. But as she slept deeper, she felt herself becoming more and more aware of something strange happening in her chest. It was like someone had stuffed two huge pillows under her arms!

Sarah tried to shake off the feeling, but it only grew stronger with each passing moment. She couldn't help but feel a thrill of pleasure every time she felt herself growing larger and more powerful. And as the night passed, Sarah drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of the magical transformation that had taken place beneath her sheets.

As she slept on, Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at what was happening to her body. She knew that this was something special and couldn't wait to see what other changes would come with having such large breasts. And as the night passed, Sarah drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of the magical transformation that had taken place beneath her sheets. But every now and then, she would moan in her sleep, a soft sound escaping from her lips as she felt herself growing larger and more powerful with each passing moment.

Hey musclefreaks!

Not dead, just taking a little break. More MassWorks to come!

Where y’all looking at~~

Quite the blessing if you ask me!

Never trust a furry disliker

Where's the Beef? (pics)

Shane Coulson, DVM, is surprised this morning to find an email from one of his clients, rancher Teddy Rowland, imploring Shane to come deliver another batch of bovine growth hormone. Shane had prescribed, at Mr. Rowland’s request, a 3-month rotation of hormones and steroids to grow his bulls into really impressive shape for next year’s cattle show. It was an open secret around the community that all the ranchers pumped their prize cattle full of every imaginable drug for the competition; tourists from all over the tri-county area would flock to the showing to marvel at the hulking beasts while the locals whisper jokingly to never buy beef from the participating farms since the meat was probably inedible.

Shane double-checks his calendar. He had last delivered Mr. Rowland’s supplies no more than 30 days ago, how could he have run out already? Shane sends the rancher a reply, promising to swing by the ranch later in the day.

---

The veterinarian’s truck rattles down the dusty side road toward Rowland Ranch; in the seat next to him, dozens of vials of bovine PEDs rattle gently in the toolbox that Shane uses as his doctor’s bag. He had packed more just in case he miscounted Mr. Rowland’s previous delivery. In spite of the fear he has about mishandling a client’s prescription, he feels an excitement deep in his stomach. The same excitement he feels every time he drives down this stretch of road considering Mr. Rowland himself is a prime slab of beef. Shane recons that if he had been born in the same town, he and Teddy Rowland probably would have gone to the same high school together, probably would have been in the same graduating class. It would have been adolescent Shane’s wet dream to see a country boy blossom into the tall, broad, hard-working, undoubtedly virile, hunk of a man that he knows as Mr. Teddy Rowland. Shane tells himself he never intended to get his doctorate in veterinary medicine just to meet handsome farmers, but it’s a nice work-benefit.

Shane pulls his truck up alongside the Rowland barn as a gust of wind blows across the dry pasture, sending a cloud of obscuring dust to swirl around him as he hefts his toolbox from the passenger seat and exits the truck, proceeding to the farmhouse when a deep, husky voice calls out from behind.

“Howdy, Doc! I’m already out here, in the barn!”

Shane stops short with a twinge in his loins. Every time he visits the ranch, he’s helplessly enthralled by Mr. Rowland’s oh-so-charming drawl. He turns towards the barn as the dust cloud finally clears.

And stops short again.

Having been a client for a few years, Shane was familiar with Teddy Rowland’s considerable physique. Blessed with envious genetics and a hard-working lifestyle, Teddy stood over 6 and a half feet of brawny, muscled, masculinity. Shane expects him to be a large man, but seeing the man striding out of the barn towards him?

Teddy is big. Like, big big.

Shane’s mouth runs dry as he eyes up the specimen, now flashing his handsome smile and raising a hand in greeting as he approaches the doctor. Mr. Rowland had never expressed an interest in bodybuilding, Shane thought, surely he’s too busy running the ranch for that kind of thing and he definitely gets enough exercise anyway. When he had last seen Mr. Rowland about one month ago, he was the same brawny, statuesque hunk Shane had always known him to be. Now it looked like he had put on 60 pounds of solid, rippling muscle since then!

The rancher’s blue-plaid shirt flaps open in the wind, far too small to be buttoned up around this man’s Herculean body. His bared, heaving pectorals bounce slightly with each step the man takes. The shirt’s sleeves, bunched up at his rounded deltoids, couldn’t possibly be rolled down over those enormous, bulging triceps and mouth-watering biceps. In fact, it looks like the sleeves themselves are split and torn to make room for all the massive new muscle on his arms. The well-worn jeans clinging to Teddy’s legs look to be faring hardly much better. The contour and body of each quadricep is apparent as they flex and bulge under the denim with every step. Those monstrous calves are too wide to squeeze into the tops of his own boots which are uncharacteristically slouching around his shins as a result. Teddy is walking a bit more bow-legged than usual as his meaty thighs roll around and past each other, fighting for space; Shane suspects those jeans are going to be worn right through very soon.

A tiny metallic glare of sunlight draws the doctor’s eyes to Teddy’s crotch. The front of those jeans is bulging forward with enough mass to deform the denim fly to the side and reveal the struggling zipper typically hidden. The large belt-buckle is even angled upwards as the, presumably, ample masculinity contained beneath takes up a spine-tingling amount of space. Shane is briefly hypnotized by that bulge as it stiffly shifts side to side above those rolling thighs, swaying with the inexplicably massive rancher’s hips as he continues his approach.

The doctor snaps to as Mr. Rowland extends a beefy, calloused hand for a shake, “Glad you could make it out on such short notice, Doc. I don’t know what’s going with these bulls of mine, seems like they stopped taking to the drugs all the sudden!”

Shane returns the handshake, “R-really? I can’t imagine why. You’ve been following the dosing schedule I gave you?”

Mr. Rowland shuffles his feet and glances down to the side, “Well, yeah, I was, see. Until they stopped making any more gains, then I might have, maybe, stuck them all with the rest of the supplies you gave me. I thought maybe they hit a plateau and needed a big old jumpstart to get them growing again. That’s why I got hold of you for more of the stuff.”

Shane's breath catches in surprise. On one hand, he’s relieved that he didn’t shortchange his client with the last delivery. On the other hand, juicing up his animals with that many hormones and anabolics could be incredibly harmful which Shane explains as such to the rancher, who looks appropriately sorry for his actions. The doctor spends the next hour busily tending to the prize bulls in question, which all seem in fine health on initial inspection. He takes blood samples for analysis and listens to their heartbeats and breathing: all normal. As Shane goes to put his stethoscope back into his tool box, Mr. Rowland is standing over it, peering down past his newly plumped pecs, seemingly very curious about its contents. The veterinarian reaches toward the stash of glass vials and Teddy perks up, eyeing them, perhaps hungrily.

Shane selects 8 of the vials and hands them to the muscular rancher, who takes them with a small air of disappointment.

“That’s less than usual. How am I supposed to get these boys their gains with just this?”

“Right,” Shane sighs. “If my suspicions are correct, most of the excess drugs passed through their systems harmlessly. I can’t be sure until I get the blood results, though. These doses will be enough to keep them in a holding-pattern on their cycle without causing too much disruption and should last until I get you the regular delivery in a couple months. Do not give them any yet, I’ll message you with instructions on how to dose them when I get the lab results back.”

“Whatever you say, Doc. You’re sure my boys are going to be alright?”

“I don’t see any cause for alarm, Mr. Rowland. It should take about one week for the analyses to get back to me, wait for my go-ahead. Here, you may as well have these while I’m here,” Shane grabs a handful of individually wrapped syringes from his toolbox and gives them to Teddy then says his goodbyes to the cows and the rancher.

Five days later, Shane receives the results of the Rowland bulls’ blood tests: everything is normal except that their hormone levels are curiously lower than anticipated, especially considering the regimen they’ve been on. He calls up Teddy to give him the good news and sends a follow-up email with instructions on how to proceed with the treatments until their next regular cycle.

---

Not three weeks pass before Mr. Rowland graces Shane’s inbox with another email, highlighted and flagged “URGENT”. Teddy apologetically describes how, when administering to one of the bulls this morning, one of the others got spooked and wound up smashing the box in which he was keeping all their treatments. Shane, with mixed disbelief, curiosity, and suspicion, agrees to head back out to Rowland Ranch to provide replacement.

The veterinarian drives down the increasingly-familiar road to the ranch and almost gets himself into an accident when he sees the man standing in the barn waiting for him.

Mr. Rowland has given up the fight on wearing a shirt anymore. His arms, shoulders, and chest look to have swollen even further with muscle. His neck is as thick as his skull with his enlarged traps bulging out on either side. His beloved jeans have exploded open under the strain of containing his enormous thighs, strips of tattered denim dangle in the breeze. His burgeoning package is still, sadly, packed away behind the straining remnants of those pants. Contents under extreme pressure, Shane thought, as he eyes the hefty bulge swaying left and right as Mr. Rowland steps forward to greet the doctor, a little slower, a little more lumbering. He looks like he has packed on another 50 pounds since the doctor’s last visit.

Teddy holds up a hand to motion for Shane to stay in the truck, “I apologize for the ruckus I’m making about all this, Doctor Coulson. I’ve never had such bad luck in my entire life and I want to make sure my prize boys back there,” he jerks a thumb back over his shoulder, making his monstrous bicep jump to attention, “can be in their best shape for the show next year.”

“I understand, Mr. Rowland, but we need to be very careful with these kinds of things. There can be significant consequences if this stuff is handled irresponsibly,” Shane makes a mental note that Teddy’s flexed bicep is bigger than his own damn head. He leans out the truck window and hands the huge man a small bundle of vials, “That’s plenty to get you through until our scheduled delivery. I’ll add this lot to your next bill.”

“Of course, Doc, of course,” he hesitates for a moment. Right when Shane’s about to bid farewell and shift back into drive the big man blurts out, “I really appreciate you, Doc. The way you handle my animals is really heartwarming, you see, and I, well, I was thinking about asking to get to know you better.”

Shane’s heart leaps. He’s not sure if the color is draining from his face or if he’s blushing madly.

“Oh, Mr. Rowland. I didn’t know you were, uh-”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot lately and thought we could, I don’t know, share a burger and a beer sometime? How about next week, at that dive that just opened up on the edge of town?”

“That-that sounds like a good time, sure. We can hammer out the details in the next couple days, Mr. Rowland.”

“You can call me Teddy.”

“Shane.”

---

The day before they were going to meet up, Shane’s phone beeps with a text message from Teddy, “My car’s busted, can’t get it fixed for a while, won’t be able to meet you tomorrow. If you want to come to the ranch instead, I’ll make it up to you!”

Shane agrees. The next evening, he pulls up outside the Rowland barn, parking next to Teddy’s beat-up old Jeep. The front tire on the driver’s side is flat and the door is off its hinges, laying on the dirt . Shane takes a closer look and spies the steering wheel is also bent and twisted. He looks into the barn and doesn’t see Teddy, so he walks to the farmhouse. As he’s climbing the stairs up to the porch, the front door swings open and out waddles Teddy, bigger and more freakishly muscular than ever.

The massive man has to angle his body sideways the fit his enormous, broad shoulders through the door, his swollen pecs and bulging back brushing the sides of the frame as he sidles through. Shane backs down the stairs as the muscle man greets him warmly. The floorboards are audibly groaning under his weight. Shane fears the stair treads are going to snap in half given how much they bow and sag under his massive bulk, each labored footfall met with creaks of protest. The engorged, bloated pectorals heave and bounce as he descends the stairs; they’re big and round like two halves of a yoga ball.

“Thanks, again, for meeting me here for our little get-together. I’ve been working all day to make it special for you!” Teddy heaves himself off the last step.

“It’s alright, Teddy,” Shane reassures him, “Is everything ok? Your car looks pretty rough.”

Teddy motions for Shane to follow him, sauntering out towards the pasture, “That old jalopy’s been trying to give up the ghost for ages now. Just another example of the mighty bad luck I’ve been dealing with lately. Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for it to die on me so I have an excuse to get myself a shiny new toy to replace it. I didn’t think it was literally going to collapse out from under me! Last time I sat in it, the tire exploded! Then when I pulled myself out, the door hinges sheared clean off. That’s nothing for you to worry about, though.”

Shane stops for a moment as they pass the vehicle, letting Teddy trundle forward a few extra steps so he can enjoy the eye-candy. Teddy’s poor jeans have been transformed into cut-off shorts by now, clinging tightly to his hips. Muscular, flexing flesh bulges through the rips and tears as the behemoth rancher moves. His burgeoning package, still fully contained in the remaining denim, is hanging several inches lower than last week.

It takes a while for the slow-walking Teddy to lead Shane through the pasture. They pass over a rise in the land and descend to a picturesque little pond enshrouded with trees. There, Teddy reveals the picnic blanket and the cooler full of beer and sandwiches he had prepared earlier. They spend the evening getting to know each other.

---

Their date the next week is much the same. Shane spends the drive to the ranch with visions of Teddy’s expanding body and rippling muscles. He isn’t quite prepared for Teddy’s newest reveal. The rancher is waiting by the barn already.

He’s trying to adopt a casual pose, but his arms are so swollen and packed with new muscle that he can barely get his fingers into his pockets. He’s trimmed away most of what remained of the legs of his jeans and is left with a tattered pair of booty-shorts. He used all that excess fabric to fashion himself a much larger denim pouch to house his inflated manhood. That’s what Shane can barely stop staring at, drooling at the prospect on unwrapping that package.

They’re walk to the pond is slower than before. Shane doesn’t care if it’s because his enormous boyfriend can’t walk quite that fast any more, or if they’re just lingering in each other’s company. They walk side by side: Teddy’s swollen, calloused hand rests heavily on Shane’s far shoulder and Shane’s arm is hooked under the massive slab of beef that is Teddy’s lats, steadying the giant man as he lumbers over the terrain.

---

Shane offered to spearhead the next week’s picnic. He’s glad he did when he next meets Teddy.

The rancher has forgone all modesty out of necessity. His grotesquely swollen body has outgrown every shirt and pair of jeans he owns but he can still sport his signature hat and boots. Teddy is waiting by the barn for Shane, as usual, but now sitting on an overturned wooden barrel. He’s somehow found an extremely elastic pair of briefs that can contain his monstrous package. It’s spilling out over the edge of the barrel between his enormous quads.

They embrace. Even though Teddy’s sitting down, Shane notices he has to look upwards a little more to meet his gaze. The veterinarian encourages Teddy to stay on his barrel, sure that the walk to the pond will be too cumbersome for a man of his size. He sets up a picnic blanket of his own right there in front of the barn and unpacks the copious food and drinks he brought.

---

Their next date has two purposes. Shane’s prepared their routine picnic, now two coolers full of food and beer, but this week also marks the start of the Rowland bull’s next juicing cycle. He speeds down the road to the ranch, nervous and trepidatious, but he can’t deny the excitement tenting the front of his pants. He finds Teddy on his barrel, his heaving bulge drooping forward several more inches, forcing his knees further apart. He looks to have gained another hundred pounds of pure muscle, mostly in his chest and arms. Teddy’s chin is almost brushing the upper swell of his own distended pectorals.

Shane measures his gaze against his giant boyfriend’s body: last week his eyes were level with Teddy’s chin, now he’s looking right at the center of his swollen chest. They embrace; Shane’s face sinks into the crevasse between those enormous pecs as the mammoth arms wrap around him. He presses his hips gently into the giant’s unavoidably protruding package, feeling the sheer heat that exudes from the pulsing package radiate into him.

Shane pulls back, remembering his professional duties, “First thing’s first, big man. Let’s go check on those bulls and measure their progress.”

Teddy nods and heaves himself up from his barrel. His ballooned package swings down and back as he situates himself, the heft of the manhood inside pulls down the front of the elastic waistband a few inches. Shane’s eyes are drawn to the exposed root of the rancher’s beefy cock; he can’t help but also notice the telltale signs of tiny bruises on Teddy’s groin and manhood which confirms his theory: Teddy’s been injecting.

They make conversation as they round up the bulls and herd them to the weigh-station behind the barn. Shane notes each bull’s weight which, unsurprisingly, hasn’t changed much since their last weigh-in.

“When was the last time your scale’s been serviced, Teddy? You sure it’s calibrated?”

“Don’t know what could have happened to it, let me see,” Teddy leads the last bull off the scale and steps onto it himself, hefting his weight in it to make the dial jump around.

“Yeah, you’re right. Doesn’t look broken. Hold still for a second, Ted,” Shane can feel himself sweating in anticipation as Teddy holds still.

The dial stabilizes at 638 pounds. Shane’s eyes bug out at the implication that his enormous boyfriend has packed on almost 400 pounds of rock-solid muscle in just about two months.

Well, not all muscle, Shane thinks as Teddy turns away from the scale, showing his burgeoning package in full profile. Shane shifts uncomfortably as his own masculinity comes to attention.

The two men get the bulls back to their pasture, then head back to the front of the barn for their customary picnic. On the way, Shane, musingly, lies, “It’s strange. There’s no way those bulls should have maintained weight like that. By all accounts they ought to be twice as big since they were last weighed.”

“I swear I’ve been following your directions, Doc,” Teddy lies back, knowingly meeting Shane’s eyes.

“I trust you, Teddy.” Not necessarily a lie.

He trustingly leaves a couple extra vials with the rest of the regular delivery.

---

A week later, Shane pulls up at the ranch with the bed of his small truck full with coolers of food and drinks. One of them is dedicated to high-calorie protein drinks. There’s a box full of protein powders. Another box contains several custom-made jock straps to accommodate Teddy’s flourishing manhood; Shane pulled a few strings with a veterinary equipment supplier to make these “cattle slings” without provoking too much suspicion.

Teddy slowly raises a monstrous arm in greeting as Shane approaches. The act makes his pectoral flex and swell and push against his jaw. Most of the past week’s gains have still been focused on his pecs. His nipples have shifted downward, and eventually pointing in as his pectorals ponderously swell out inch by inch, pound by pound. Despite how difficult those pecs make it for him to see anything below a certain angle of view, through his cleavage Teddy can still see his elastic-clad bulge as it unrelentingly fattens in front of him. Shane backs his truck up next to the freakish titan so the contents in the bed should be within easy reach. Sitting on the tailgate, Shane’s eyeline is almost level with his boyfriend’s as he doles out the evening’s meal.

It’s well past nightfall by the time Teddy finishes off his third cooler full of food, a sizeable mound of beer cans growing on the ground beside him. Shane, having eaten his fill long ago, has been mentally keeping tally of the tens of thousands of calories pouring into his boyfriend’s stomach as he ponders the stars.

Shane eventually speaks, pensively, “I’ve been doing some research on the gear we’ve been giving your bulls. It’s some freaky stuff, you know. Completely synthetically engineered to have the biggest, but safest, impact on cows. And only cows. If injected in the bloodstream of any other animal, it barely has any effect. But if enough of it makes it to the androgen-producing glands, it mutates those glands so they copy the hormonal code and start producing it locally,” he eyes Teddy’s twitching package as if he can see through the fabric, imagining those immense orbs turned into bovine-steroid factories.

“There was a mouse mentioned in one study,” Shane continues, “it blew up big as a pit bull with nuts the size of bowling balls.”

It’s impossible not to notice Teddy’s arousal straining his jock. One of his hands wanders down into the gap between his abs and waistband and starts massaging the base of his corpulent shaft.

“The report didn’t say what became of the poor thing.”

---

Shane starts to stop by the farm more frequently to make sure Teddy is doing ok. Each day that passes adds dozens of pounds to his frame, inches to his height, inches and pounds to his cock and balls. Teddy’s body shows signs of an adverse reaction to all this development: his muscular definition starts to fade as he looks to be packing on body fat, or maybe just retaining water.

---

Teddy’s body keeps inflating at this accelerated rate for the rest of the week. His muscle definition is almost all gone and his pecs are sagging. His neck has all but disappeared as his traps swell out. Shane jokes that all the beer has caught up to him as he pokes the belly fat hanging over his waist. Teddy reports he’s still feeling perfectly fine and he doesn’t really mind the extra weight, he says it makes him feel that much bigger.

---

But one more week is all his body needs to catch up with the flood of new hormones that his immense testicles are producing. He doesn’t lose the excess weight so much as his muscles inflate and grow enough to redistribute and displace it. His pecs, eager to grow as ever, are each the size of a baby calf and probably weigh more. The natural hormones he’s now producing, doubled with the doses Shane keeps administering, makes Teddy practically explode

week

after

week

---

Shane spends his free time helping Teddy relocate his life to the cattle barn. Falling through the porch and destroying the stairs like a living wrecking ball was the sign Teddy needed to realize he was simply too enormous to live in the farmhouse. The open floorplan of a barn functions quite well for Teddy, to his surprise. It makes it very easy to remain within arm’s reach of the increasingly voluminous supply of food and protein his billowing body craves. They even start ordering in his favorite beer by the keg, dozens at a time.

Unable to care for his animals, Teddy makes the difficult decision to sell them off, using Shane as a proxy because he isn’t ready to reveal his gigantic form to the rest of the world. For his part, Shane sells his property and moves into the farmhouse, though he spends most time tending to Teddy whenever he isn’t at the vet clinic. All that cash is put into savings to hedge against the ever-increasing food bills and Shane makes enough income to cover the regular expenses.

The men remark how perfect the situation is: the ranch is far enough out that nobody’s going to come snooping around and it’s still registered as a cattle farm so the endless shipments of bovine growth hormone don’t seem unusual. Plus, there’s plenty of room for expansion. They joke that Teddy ought to change his name to Teddy Rolling considering that’s about the only way he can move about.

Maybe, once Teddy is ready to reintroduce himself to the world, they can start charging people to come see The Massive Musclefreak of Rolling Ranch.

You can become a Gainz Guardian yourself, you know. What's the point of them? Encouragement! If you can outwrestle them and out flex them, you're ready for the more powerful MassWorks growth chemicals. If you can't, then it's too dangerous! REALLY I'm doing you a favor..

Another Gains Guardian! This one guards the Maze of Gyms, where all the GOOD equipment is. What a fiend!

The club stage got some more money poured into it

Mnf. Liberating to just sit there and -grow-.