It's Inevitable 2
by Londonboy
That evening – after my volcanic sized eruption at school induced by Mr. Miles’ note – I officially moved into total freak-dom. First of all, my lifting ability surpassed my brother’s weight set. Because of my little teacher-muse I was able to load every single weight on the bar and lift it with one hand. I had probably been able to do it for a while, but it took the knowledge that the older man wanted me to get as massively big as I did to finally release the cockiness I needed to one arm curl the heavy thing as I walked around the room grunting and growling like some animal in heat. I truly was becoming a muscle beast and my attitude was adjusting to match my growing muscles. The noise must have bothered my older brother, home from college for a few days, so he opened my door without knocking to tell me to be quiet. That was a big mistake. He was in mid-sentence when he looked up and saw my massive arm bulging insanely as it lifted the bar – a mountain of hardness swelling huge in the middle of the room. The sound from his mouth stopped and his entire body froze. No one in my family had really ever acknowledged how much I had grown. I think they kind of got so used to me busting beyond different sizes of clothes that it didn’t register what a muscled monster I was becoming. At that moment, however, I swear I heard my bro’s cock shriveling up from a feeling of inadequacy.
Two things happened at the same time – the power between him and me shifted immediately. How could it not? He took one look at my enormous arm – curling weight that his entire body wouldn’t be able to bench, squat, or probably even push a few inches across the floor – and instantly knew his little brother could easily dominate him. I actually watched his body kind of deflate in submission. Secondly, I confirmed my brother was straight as an arrow. His eyes didn’t fill up with lust when he peered at my huge gun – like those of Mr. Miles or Mrs. Thompson. No, his face filled quickly with a look of surrender and slight fear. It was sort of a turn on to see him cower a little, but nothing near the jolt of orgasmic energy that shot through my body when a guy’s entire being became a hard-on while gazing at me. Immediately, I realized that showing off for my brother would be kind of cruel – my flexing would only make him loathe his own body more. He didn’t lust uncontrollably for my muscles like Mr. Miles did, so that – in turn – didn’t turn me on. I did want to leave him with one lasting vision, however, so I lowered my bent arm and held the weighted bar out with my arm extended. I kept the thing steady without any problem – proving to my older sibling that there was no trick to what I was doing. My brother instantly understood that my strength equaled my size and he slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him. I had a feeling it would be a few months before his cock would be able to harden again – he was that intimidated.
I wasted no energy thinking about what had just happened. Dominating my brother didn’t interest me – getting bigger for my teacher did. I tossed the bar in the air, caught it with my other hand, started curling, and turned my thoughts back to my cute scrawny muse. With each powerful lift of the bar my cock jacked up a little harder, too, because I was turned on by my own strength and because I was dreaming about a certain little man. I started imagining what it would be like if Mr. Miles was lying stiff across my palm and I was curling his body. I thought about him staring at my huge guns pumping up with each rep and his face being flushed with intense desire. I then focused on what it would be like to shift my grip a little and start one-arm pressing his body over my head. I swear I could hear how his breathing would suddenly shift when he started going high up into the air, feeling the ceiling getting closer and then further away. The idea of my teacher spewing hard just because I easily pushed him into the air for a bunch of reps made my body shiver with delight. This, in turn, actually made the weight in my hand get lighter. It was the wildest thing – even just imagining Mr. Miles churning out a big load caused me to get jacked with more strength. I also immediately felt bigger, as if the mental images of my muse were some kind of stimulus for my muscles. I was going to become a monster – I just knew it.
It became quite clear that the weights I had used for months were now useless. They were never going to offer any resistance for my muscles again. I thought about going out in the back yard and seeing how far I could chuck the thing – like a javelin – but I was nervous I might damage a neighbor’s house or destroy a car. I was about to place the weights on the ground when I got an idea – one that I knew would please Mr. Miles if he had been there. I was now as hard as the trunk of a hundred year-old oak tree and thought it would be fun to test the strength of that particular muscle, as well. I reached down with my empty hand and tugged my cotton shorts down to my calves. My rod shot straight up and smacked loudly against my tight abs. After returning upright I took the bar and slid it down between my cock and my stomach – snuggling the metal securely in place. I tensed my shaft a little and then removed my hand. The weights stayed firmly trapped without any problem. My dick was holding up all the poundage I owned and when I thought about how much my teacher-muse would have enjoyed watching me do this I lost control. Without much warning my cock started spewing wildly and cum shot up higher than my head. The weighted bar stayed in place as I ejaculated powerfully – trapped by my muscled stomach and hard piece of erupting meat. As ropes of juice shot into the air I felt empowered and cockier than ever. I slammed my arms up into a double biceps pose and gazed at myself in the mirrored sliding doors of my closet. My ejaculation forced my entire body into a tensed state and veins popped out everywhere. I looked invincible. And while I knew I still had some major growing to do - if I wanted to become the freak of both Mr. Miles and my dreams - I found myself lovingly appreciating the work I had accomplished up to this point.
Big gobs of my thick white juice rained down on my magnificent chest – bigger than anyone else’s at school. By now, most of the football players looked like junior high students next to me. I dwarfed them in every way. There were only a few really big dudes and a couple of large teachers that even came close to matching my size. This thought caused my cock to thrust out some more milky ammunition – as if my orgasm had just begun. I focused on my big biceps and realized that Mr. Miles’ head would almost be totally blocked by one of them. I got even more excited as I thought about the day when my guns were going to be mountainous next to his small noggin. I started thinking about blasting my arms larger than his torso and that caused my cock to spew harder again. The weighted bar was still not moving and it almost looked like some kind of weird piercing at my bellybutton. My entire frame was now glistening from a coated mixture of sweat and cum. I was still flexing my huge arms and staring at myself, while thinking about how much Mr. Miles would love the way I looked. It became too much for me to handle and without even thinking about it I brought my face over to my right biceps and started kissing the bulging mound like it was the face of a lover. My lips smashed against the hard, unyielding muscle and suddenly the room was filled with sounds of slurping and lips smacking against skin.
In the midst of my self-adoration I willed my cock to lower and felt the weighted bar slide off – hitting the floor with a loud thud. I dared anyone to come into the room to complain about the noise, actually hoping they’d get a gander at my pumped body all shiny and huge. I moved closer to the mirror just so I could feel completely surrounded by my huge biceps. My gaze moved back and forth from the giant gun to the reflection of my face. I imagined Mr. Miles kissing my arm at the same time – knowing there was enough muscle for the both of us. We’d bring our lips together for a long time and then we’d both move instinctively back to the hard muscle pulsing underneath my skin, loving how it felt like warm stone pressed against our faces. This last thought forced my cock to spew out another gob of cum and I heard it smack up against the mirror. I squeezed my fist harder and tensed the mound beside my face – loving how it seemed to grow even larger from the effort. I pressed my nose, forehead, lips, and chin into the skin with a ferociousness that was almost inhuman. I could feel beads of sweat streaming down my back and I began to realize my huge body was spent. I backed away from the mirror, still flexing my guns, and then fell onto my bed. Within a few minutes I was sound asleep, my arms still bent beside my head and my body covered in salty sweat and drying cum.
The rest of the school year whizzed by – filled with me growing larger while Mr. Miles and I left notes for each other. We both figured it was best, without even discussing it, if we never spoke. I knew I couldn’t ask my parents for a new weight set, so I found an ingenious way to work out. I’d sneak into the garage at night and use the family van. The first time I tried, I could only lift the back of the vehicle a few inches and not for very long. Within a month, however, I was curling the back for many reps, laying under the thing and pressing it up for building up my chest, and also using some blocks to get it high enough so I could work out my legs. To add a little fuel to my workouts I’d wear really tight old shirts and get off as I listened to them rip apart while lifting. The same thing happened to a few pairs of shorts, too, and that got me so excited I squirted on the spot. Although my exercising was limited to when my family was asleep, the intensity only increased. I was still so inspired by my little muse that my strength and size seemed to build a lot quicker than normal men. I was looking like a junior bodybuilder toward the end of my senior year – definitely bigger than anyone in my town. Mr. Miles had to take a few vacation days after I left him a note saying I’d added three inches to my arms. It was hot as hell to make any guy – younger or older cream in his pants just from flexing my muscles - but no one thrilled me as much as Michael Miles. Somehow, I knew he understood this, as well.
I found myself getting a little edgy near graduation and finally figured out it was because I’d be going to college soon and would have to leave my teacher. I didn’t know how I could make it without my muse. I had a full scholarship for studying sports medicine at one of the best universities in the country, but having to leave the little man made it difficult to be happy. I think Mr. Miles figure all of this out – being so much bigger than him often made me forget he was older and wiser. On the last full day of school I found a wrapped present in my chair when I got to class. I quickly stuffed it in my backpack, knowing it would be best to open it at home. As I was leaving class the unthinkable happened, Mr. Miles asked if I would wait behind so we could have a short chat. After every other student had gone the man just smiled and told me he’d be waiting. That was it. He then turned back to his desk and I swear I noticed a tear sliding down his cheek. His perpetual hard-on was there, as well. I felt like grabbing the guy in the biggest bear hug ever, but right then another teacher walked in. I left my muse, saddened and encouraged by his words at the same time.
At home I immediately opened the present. Inside there was a longer note than usual, another wrapped package, and a big wad of cash. Here’s what the note said:
“Don’t be sad. It’s right that you should go to college – for two reasons. One, so you can get a good education and, two, because you’ll get even bigger at your university. To help that happen I have given you two graduation presents. The first is enough cash to cover the cost of you joining a serious gym, since you won’t have your parents’ van to lift anymore. Yes, I have stalked you in the past. Don’t act all surprised, I’ve also seen you outside of my house a few times. The second present is a picture of me so you will never truly be far from your muse. Here’s my private email address. You can send me picture updates when you get a chance. Finish school and then come back to show off your monstrous body. Like I said at school today, I’ll be waiting.”
Sometimes, before a huge explosion, your balls give you a warning. There’s this tingling that runs from the tip of your cock down to your low hanging sacks that makes your entire body feel utterly magnificent and then you feel the pumping begin within your nuts and up through your tightening hard shaft. Before you know it, you’re spewing like some kind of Italian fountain that rains down and splashes a huge crowd that has gathered around to toss in coins. It’s a glorious feeling to be that empowered – that filled with testosterone. But then sometimes something else happens, and it’s even more fantastic. There are times when you are given no warm sensation of foreshadowing and your cock starts to fire off like some kind of huge Roman candle that you bought for the Fourth of July before you even realize it. This is what Mr. Miles’ letter did to me. It caused my body to react instantaneously. I was given no warning, no warm fuzzy feeling in my balls or toes. I simply exploded like a time bomb when it’s clock hits zero.
I was sitting on my bed and the thrust of my orgasm sent my back flying to the mattress. My feet actually came off the floor as my crotch shot up in the air. I was still fully clothed, so my joyous cock had nowhere to pump except into my briefs. My dick was trapped, but not my cum. It was like a thousand tiny needles were jabbed into my balls at the same time. Suddenly, thoughts of Mr. Miles waiting for me to come back and show off my giant body excited me so much that every single bulging muscle on my body shot rigid and only my dick twitched uncontrollably as it spewed forth a mega load of my hot, sticky juice. I remained arched on my bed for what seemed like an eternity as I filled my pants with my offering to my teacher. I felt more powerful and huge at that moment that I ever had in my entire life. When my back finally fell down to the mattress and my continuous volley turned into staccato spurts of cum, I picked up the picture of my teacher and stared at it, causing my cock to jerk harder for a few seconds. The man was simply stunning – small and beautiful. In four years I knew I would return and make the guy faint because of my size. I was bigger than him now, but I would tower over him after four years in college with non-stop workouts. I knew I would do well in school – I was smart and I loved learning - but I also knew that I would probably spend most of my time at the gym.
Nothing else mattered except growing huge for my little mentor. In four years I would be more than legal age. Mr. Miles and I would finally be able to have a proper muscle worship session and even much more. I was going to blow his mind – and enjoy watching him blow multiple loads a day as he got off on my size. If the little man wanted a humongous monster I was going to go way beyond what he even dreamed possible. I wanted to please him so much that he’d never even think of looking at another guy. Of course, I knew that was how it was right now, but I wanted him to end up thinking about me twenty-four seven. I wanted to be so big that he expected concrete to crack underneath when I walked or that I would take out huge chunks of walls if I forgot to turn when coming through doorways. I wanted the guy to squeal like an eighth grade school child every time I flexed a random muscle. Watching him lose control was now embedded in my mind as my main inspiration for growing. I would imagine him having a big old orgasm just from me flexing one arm in order to help me grow over the next four years. It was going to be enough. I could feel myself becoming obsessed with making Mr. Miles feel miniature. It was going to be awesome.