Spring 6: Lester and Mikey 3
by BBMSN
Mikey continued to train with Karl after he got off work at the bar. For a month straight, he and Karl would lift from 2:30 to 5 in the morning. A couple of times, Mikey puked from trying to keep up with Karl, and the old man still crushed him with the poundage he used in the weightroom, but Mikey was getting better, especially since Karl had started giving him the protein shakes he kept in his office. After of week of training together, Karl had come out with a gallon container of the shake and said "Here, drink this." The first sip, and Mikey was hooked. The stuff tasted amazing. Not too thick, but not too thin. He guzzled down that first gallon like a suckling pig. Karl was impressed, so he got him a second gallon. Mikey drank that down, and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. "Now let's lift," Karl had said, and even though Mikey's tight abs were bloated from the stuff, and he worried that he'd hurl all over the gym, he ended up having the best workout of his life. He raged through his sets, and added weight to every lift. Karl smiled and shook his head as Mikey kept checking himself out in the mirror. "Fuck yeahh," Mikey would say as he popped out a side-chest shot. Then Karl would stand next to him and pop out his own freak chest shelf. Karl was 6 inches taller, and significantly thicker and denser, but Mikey was making gains.
Three weeks later, and Mikey was definitely making gains. He was drinking up to four gallons a day of Karl's shakes, on top of food, and his weight had soared to 360lbs. Karl could still wrestle him down to the floor and breed him, but Mikey could tell it was getting harder for him, and he could cum just feeling Karl's big rough hands groping his new mass.
Meanwhile, Lester had been working a lot of double shifts and weekends at the prison. He hadn't seen much of Mikey that month, and when he did, he was too tired to take much notice. Mikey had told him he was working out with some old dude over in the warehouse district, which was cool with him, he spent much of his time at the prison using the weightroom himself. The warden encouraged him to do so, and, in fact, gave him bonuses for getting stronger and bigger. The prison's gang problems had nearly disappeared since Lester had been hired on.
The first time Lester got a good look at Mikey's new size was about a month into his new training regiment. Lester got home from work around 3 that afternoon, just as Mikey was getting up. Mikey came out of the bedroom, sleepy-eyed and naked, heading for the kitchen as Lester walked in.
"Hey, man," said Mikey, absent-mindedly scratching his balls.
"Dude," said Lester, "you're gettin' huge."
Mikey looked down at his massive, smooth young muscle. He bounced his huge watermelon pecs. "Yeah," he grinned, "I guess I am."
"Shit, bro, you're nearly big as I am," said Lester.
"No fucking way, man."
"Dude, way. Check it out." Lester unbuttoned his prison guard shirt and stripped it off. He was a freak of nature. Massive, hairy, super vascular, and tattooed, he looked tough as nails, and Mikey could see why none of the prisoners would give him any shit.
Lester stepped up to Mikey. "Bring up that arm, man, let's compare." Mikey shrugged and flexed his arm up. Lester held his arm next to his and flexed, too. Both men had biceps that peaked up over 26". They matched arm size very closely, although Lester's was tougher, more sinewy, dense as brick. Mikey's bulk still had a boyishness to it, although that was fading fast, as his new size developed bulges and ridges like emerging diamonds. His skin was so smooth and milky, you could see the blue veins crisscrossing his chest and arms, but they didn't quite stand out on top of the muscle like Lester's, rising up atop the muscles, hard as hoses, then plunging deep into his granite hardness. Lester had a street tough look of a hardcore biker. Mikey was from the 'burbs, a growing powerhouse muscle jock, morphing into a muscle freak.
"Mikey, dude, your arm is bigger than mine, you fuck." Mikey looked at the two huge arms, side by side, peak to peak, balled up into hard flex, and realized that Lester was right. Not by much, but his newly forming tennis ball-sized peak was just topping up over Lester's. "Man, I gotta meet this old dude, if he's getting you this jacked up."
"Anytime, Lester. You just got to get off nights. The three of us would tear the place apart."
Mikey lumbered into the kitchen. Lester checked out Mikey's naked backside, now as big or bigger than Coleman's. "Shit," he said to himself,"I gotta talk to the warden."
Lester had to be back at work that night at 7, so he grabbed a couple hours sleep, got up, showered and dressed in his special order XXXXL guard uniform, and headed back to the prison. When he got there, there had been trouble. The place was in lockdown. Seems that one of the prisoners, a computer geek who had been given hard time for creating a devastating virus, had overridden the lock system on his cell door, and locked himself inside, swearing to go on a hunger strike until conditions were improved at the prison. In doing so, he had messed up the prison's automatic lock system, so doors around the place were locking and unlocking at random. When Lester got to Level 2, the warden and 4 guards were outside the geek's cell, trying to coax him out, although it was hard to hear what they were saying, because the other prisoners, locked in their cells, where cheering and jeering at all the trouble to geek was causing. As Lester approached the cell, the warden saw him and said, "Good, I'm glad you're here. Do something about this." He and the four guards back away enough for Lester to step into the front of the cell door. His massiveness cast a shadow over the small living space of the computer geek.
"Come here for a second, Lex," Lester said to the geek, who's name wasn't really Lex, but he fancied himself as Lex Luther, and Lester had always humored him by going along, even when the geek would say to him, "Someday, I'll rule you, and the world!" He kind of creeped Lester out, but had been harmless up to now.
The geek took a step out of the dark shadows, and eyed Lester suspiciously.
"Listen to me, boy," said Lester, "you got two choices. Either you undo the lock and come out, or I'll rip the bars off the wall and come in after you."
A momentary look of panic crossed the geek's face. Then he said, "You don't scare me, muscleman. I'll take you down and everyone in here."
"Is that right, Lex? And how you gonna do that from in there? You got some kryptonite hidden under your cot?"
"Don't mock me, musclefreak. I'll destroy anyone that gets in my way."
"You're not destroying anyone, punk, and you know why? You're just a little fuckin geek, that's all you are, and all you ever will be. Now be a good little geek and unlock this fucking cell door."
Lex's face reddened and he began to shake. "DON'T YOU TALK TO ME THAT WAY!!" he shouted as he took a step toward Lester.
A fatal mistake.
Lester's arm shot thru the bars in a flash, and he grabbed the geek by his shirt. Everyone was shocked by the speed of it. The warden and the four guards had gasped, and the prisoners began to quiet down. As Lester's thick, strong fingers curled around more shirt, his huge upper arm pressed against two of the bars, causing them to bow apart. Lex began to choke on his own panic.
"Now listen to me carefully, Lex," said Lester, darkly. "You either cut the crap and unlock the door, or I will pull you out thru the bars."
Lex eyed the bars nervously. Skinny as he was, he knew he would sustain serious damage if Lester actually tried to pull him thru. Fatal damage. But would Lester really do that? He looked down at the cable-sized cords of Lester's forearm as his fist tightened over his shirt fabric. He felt himself being lifted slowly off his feet. He was just about to give it up, when the warden stepped forward and yelled to Lester, "Crush him! Crush the little maggot!"
Lex panicked, arched himself backwards and grabbed a hold of his bunk bed post. Lester pulled to jerk him away from the bed, but instead, ripped the shirt right off him, like a magician pulling a tablecloth off a table. The shirtless Lex scrambled to his bed, reached underneath and pulled out a remote control. "Now you'll see," he said, and pushed a button. Alarms immediately went off in another section of the prison.
"Fuck," said Lester.
"Go see what that's about," the warden said to the guards.
"Wait," said Lester. "Stand back." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, throwing it over the railing.
"Jesus," said one of the guards, truly getting a look at Lester's freak size for the first time. The other three guards were speechless. They all stood back.
Lester spread his arms out and grabbed a hold of the heaviest bars on the cell door, the main framework of the metal. He clenched his fists around the bars, twisting the steel slightly into a better grip. Then he yanked.
The whole second floor shuttered from the force, but the bars held. Lester yanked again. Chunks of wall fell from both sides of the door. Lester readjusted his grip and rolled his enormous swelling back muscles. Lester pulled downward on the bars, grunting, and chunks fell from the ceiling. Then he yanked again. The whole prison seemed to shudder. Prisoners in the deepest isolation ward felt the force of it, and began to bone up from the sense of a distant, tremendous power. Prisoners on the third tier, who could see Lester's back, watched in awe as the superman guard ripped apart a cell door with his bare hands. Lester yanked again, hard, and buckled the cell door away from the side walls. Then he widened his grip, and began to crush in on the bars. The cell door folded like an accordion, slowly at first, but then crumpling and crumpling like a Chinese paper lantern under the intense pressure of Lester's massive delts, lats and arms. A sheen of sweat highlighted the enormity of Lester's musclepowered gorilla back. Lester folded the door into fourths, then tossed it over the railing. Then he roared and flexed into a most-muscular pose. Two of the guards, the warden, and six prisoners spontaneously came in their pants.
Lex sat shaking in the corner of his cell as Lester stepped in. Lester put his hand out, and the defeated geek handed him the remote. Lester closed his big hand around it and crushed it into a hundred pieces. The alarms stopped.
Lester ducked out of the cell and went up to the awe-struck warden.
"I need the night off," Lester said.