The Alpha Kid

Marcus moved into the off-campus garage apartment about a week before college started. As a freshman, he was supposed to live in a dorm on campus, but he knew a girl who worked in the housing office, and she got him an exemption. So now, at 18 years old, he was living on his own for the first time in his life. His walk to campus was only a little over a half mile, and he noticed on his first day of mapping out his route that there was a hardcore gym right down the street from him. That day, he just kept going, but each time he passed it after that, he walked by slower and slower, trying to look in thru the windows as he passed, and trying work up the nerve to go inside. At six feet tall, Marcus was not a tiny kid, but he weighed in at 142lbs soaking wet. He was a bean pole. And while he had fooled around with lifting in the weight room of his high school, he never really felt like he had the stuff to become a bodybuilder or weightlifter.

But the gym called to him. It tugged at his gut. Even when he wasn't walking by it, he felt it. At night, laying in bed, he thought of walking in the next day and signing up for a membership. And then he wouldn't do it. Finally, after about two weeks of putting it off, he forced himself to stop in front of the gym, open the door, and go inside. The guy at the front desk was built well, but wasn't a big musclehead, and he was friendly enough to put some of Marcus's hesitations aside.

"You want me to show you the equipment, or are you OK on your own?" the guy asked him after he'd signed up.

"I'm good," Marcus said, a little unsure if that was true or not. But as he walked around the place, he recognized some of the same equipment that his high school had. He started out with those. The stuff he wasn't sure of, he just watched as other gym members used them, and he figured them out pretty fast. Even though he was starting out with much lighter weights than the other guys were using, Marcus loved the feeling in his muscles as he did set after set. Even after his first day, he thought to himself, no wonder guys like building up their bodies.

He started going to the gym five times a week. He found that if he went around the same time every day, he would see a lot of the same guys training. Sometimes they would see him watching them on a machine or doing a certain exercise. Marcus was by far the skinniest guy at the gym, and was pretty obviously a beginner, so some of the friendlier lifters would show him what they were doing and explain what body part the exercise was for. Marcus would memorize everything they told him, and incorporated all the exercises into his routine. Pretty soon, he was working out for an hour and a half each day. And he was becoming bold enough to go up to other lifters and ask them about their training.

The one guy that Marcus didn't bother when he saw him there was a real hardcore lifter. Much shorter than Marcus, at about 5'7", the guy weighed 240lbs. Marcus had seen him weigh himself on the gym scale. He couldn't believe that anyone could be that thick and solidly built. The guy was a tank. A tank who wore a tank top to train in, and would flex in the mirrors between sets. Marcus had never seen muscle like this guy had. They popped out all over him, even when he wasn't flexing. And when he did....they swelled out in such perfection that it left Marcus stunned. He'd seen guys like that in the muscle mags he'd been buying recently, but in person, it stunned him to his core. And the guy lifted so much weight. He'd take the heaviest dumbbells in the gym, and do rep after rep with them, and set after set. Then he'd walk over to a mirror and check himself out. He clearly knew how jacked up he was, and was totally into himself. But who could blame him. Not Marcus.

About two months into his training, Marcus was getting a little frustrated. While he enjoyed his workouts, and he felt amazing afterwards, he wasn't gaining much size at all. One day, he weighed himself on the gym scale, and came in at 145lbs. "Shit," he said in disgust. "I'll never get big."

"You got to eat more," said a deep voice from behind him. Marcus hadn't realized that anyone was there. He turned around and saw the tanky guy. "You've got your workouts down pretty good, now all you got to do is eat till you think you're gonna puke, then eat some more. You do about a dozen eggs every morning, and tons of tuna and chicken during the day, you'll grow. Don't weigh yourself for two months, and see what happens. You got potential, I can see it." Then he turned and walked away, his workout pants stretched tight across his thick rounded glutes.

Marcus couldn't believe the guy had ever even noticed him, let alone thinking he had potential. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he was half chubbed up at the thought of getting even half as big as the huge muscleman. Marcus left the gym and headed right for BJ's, where he bought as much tuna, chicken and eggs as he could afford.

For the next month, Marcus worked on his eating habits as hard as he worked on his lifting. And school, of course. He began to realize what a challenge balancing all three things was going to be. He woke up an hour earlier each day to cook and stuff down his dozen eggs, oatmeal, bananas, and anything else he could take in without bursting. For lunch, he was on the meal plan on campus, and could eat as much as he wanted. People stared at him as he walked to a seat with his over piled tray, but he could care less. He started enjoying the feeling of being stuffed to the gills. It made him feel bigger and stronger, even without the lifting. On top of the lifting, it made him feel like a new being. One that was growing. He'd sit in the cafeteria, eating, and imagine himself being the biggest alpha kid the campus had ever seen. When he went up for another trayful of food, he'd use the tray to hide his swelling dick.

After another month went by, Marcus added a bathroom scale to his purchases of food at BJ's. He put it in his small bathroom in the apartment. He was dying to weigh himself, because he knew he was bigger. he could feel the changes in his body. But he didn't weigh himself yet. First, he stripped down, and looked at himself in the full length mirror that was behind the door. He had purposefully avoided doing that for the past 30 days. Now, he tensed his muscles.

"Whoa," he said out loud. Still very lean, he now had muscle popping out. Pecs with some size. Delts that rounded out. Abs with ridges. Legs that showed more thickness, and veins starting to show. He was practically shaking as he walked over and stepped on the scale. The digital readout blinked red a few times, then popped on. "165"

"Holy smokes," said Marcus. Twenty pounds in two months. He went back to the mirror and looked at himself again. Twenty pounds. If he did that again, he'd weigh 185 in two more months. And then after that, 205. He was fully erect in the mirror now, and started stroking himself. Maybe he could notch up his eating even more, and gain 30 each time. That would get him to 6', 225lbs of muscle. And then there'd be no stopping him. He pictured himself getting as big as the tank at the gym.

"And then I'll show that guy what real muscle is supposed to look like," Marcus said. He lifted his free hand up in to air, and flexed his arm. He imagine what his biceps would look like when they hit 23 inches. "Oh yehhhhhh," he said, as he came all over his reflection in the mirror.

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