Wrestling Camp

Part 1

For the past week, Coach Kessler had been getting the gym ready. His summer wrestling camp was starting soon, and this year he was very excited. One of his students from last year had gone on to win the state championship as a sophomore in high school. This kid, Paul, was his star pupil last summer, and during the eight weeks of camp, he had not only increased his knowledge of wrestling holds, but also his speed and size. Paul had started out as a 5'5", 140lb fifteen year old, and had left camp at 5'6", 153lbs of wrestler muscle. Coach Kessler knew that this kid had tremendous potential, and was anxious to see how far he could take him this summer.

Just then, the coach heard someone walk into the gym. He turned and looked, seeing a big buzzcut muscle jock strutting his way across to him.

"Hey, Coach," said the jock.

"Can I help you?" said Coach.

"Come on, Coach, don't ya recognize me?" said the jock, a little hurt."It's Paul."

The coach couldn't believe his eyes. Paul had packed on some major size over the school year. "Jesus, kid, you've gained about 30lbs since last year."

"More like 50," said Paul."I weigh in at 225. Check it out." The kid dropped his duffel bag and stripped of his shirt. The coach actually took a step back in amazement. Paul was now his height, 5'10", and outweighed him by 20lbs of pure beef. The coach, who had come out of the Iowa collegiate wrestling program, then coach for the past 15 years, had never seen such intense muscularity. Every muscle stood out sharply, even as the boy stood there, relaxed. Then he brought up his arms into a double-bi shot, squeezing his arm muscle tight and hard, grinning as the biceps peaks rose up higher and higher.

"And that ain't nothin'," said Paul. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down to expose his beefed up quads. He had on bikini briefs, highlighting every huge inch of muscle on his thick thighs. He flexed his legs, and every muscle responded, rolling and swelling, stretching the already tight skin.

"Gotten so I enjoy flexing almost as much as wrestling," said Paul. "And I hear you re-did the weightroom since last year."

"Yeah,"said the coach, still in shock."It's back here." They went into the back room, where there were racks of new free weights, new benches, and tons of olympic plates and bars.

"Nice!" said Paul. He went over to a bench and loaded the bar with 315. Then he began to pump out rep after rep. Coach couldn't believe this kid's strength. Paul sat up when he was done. He bounced his pecs back and forth, watching them in the mirror.

"Coach, do me a favor and add two more 45's," Paul asked. Coach put on the weight and watch Paul pump out 12 reps. Then he sat up and checked himself out in the mirror again. "Man, I love the way these huge suckers swell up when I work em."

He rolled them over and over, then cupped the weighty pecs in his hand, feeling their dense muscle.

"Paul," said Coach,"I hope you haven't gotten too big to wrestle well."

The two headed back to the gym, and hit the mats. Coach went right for Paul's legs, trying to take him off his feet, but the big teen didn't budge. Instead, he grinned, reached down, lifted the coach into the air and slammed him onto the mat. All the wind knocked right out of the coach, and Paul got on top of him and pinned his shoulders with ease.

"Well,"said Paul,"that took three seconds." Paul sat up, straddling Coach. The teen flexed his right arm in victory. The coach looked up at the massive teen, swollen with mass and ego. "Feels like you liked it a lot," said Paul, grinding his thick musclebutt on the coach's hard-on. Coach came so hard, his toes curled.

"And this is just the beginning," said Paul. "By the end of camp, I'm gonna weigh 280 plus."


Part 2

Paul had arrived at wrestling camp a week earlier than the other kids, so he had free reign of the weight room. He did a split routine of three hours in the morning and three hours in late afternoon. Coach Kessler would check in on him from time to time, and stare in amazement as Paul went from exercise to exercise, tossing the heaviest weights around like toys. In between sets, Paul didn't rest, but would find the nearest mirror ,and flex out over and over, going "YEHH, look at all this muscle". He'd be drenched in sweat, leaving puddles on the floor where he stood, hitting pose after pose, grinding the muscle into growth. The coach had never seen anyone train with such intensity or focus. He had measured Paul's bodyfat level at a freakish 2%. And yet Paul was eating huge amounts of food each day. He would eat double the portions that the coach had for breakfast, and would come back an hour later, and eat twice as much more. Before the last mouthful was swallowed, he'd be back on his way to the weightroom.

By the end of the third day of this, Paul had gained 15lbs of muscle and was now a shredded 240lbs of pumped up musclemachine. In between marathon lifting sessions, he and the coach would practice wrestling, but that was all pretty much just going through the motions. There wasn't a hold the coach tried that Paul couldn't bust out of or reverse with ease. Coach's last attempt had been his full-nelson, a hold no one had ever broken on him before. He thought he had the boy good too, but suddenly Paul's breathing became deeper, more like a growl, and the coach felt the boy's lats begin to swell. Paul hunched down into a most-muscular stance, actually lifting the coach onto his huge back.His powerful muscles spread and spread, finally snapping the coach's vise-like grip like nothing.

Paul stepped away from the hold, turned and went "heh-heh..thought you had me, didn't ya?" Then he tackled the coach to the ground, flipped him, and slapped him into an armlock from hell. Pain seared through the coach's arm and shoulder, and Paul leaned into his ear and said, "Tap out before I really apply some pressure."

The coach tapped out. Paul helped him up to his feet and said "Man, that was great! I am Ragin! Look at these wings, Coach!" Paul turned his back to the coach, and hit a lat spread. Coach was glad he could at least still get the boy breathing heavy, but he wasn't sure how long that would last. He saw before him a backspread like never before, and he realized that Paul never seemed to lose his pump, but only got bigger every day. Paul's traps mounded up like an ox yoke, his lats were two inches thicker and wider than when he had arrived, and his super wide shoulder-spread tapered down in a freakish V, his striated lower back muscles popping out into a wicked christmas tree, one that would have challenged any pro bodybuilder.

The coach wasn't sure what he was going to do with this massive hulk teen. The rest of the kids would arrive in a few days, and no one was going to be able to wrestle his star pupil. Paul already had the strength of four grown men, and was growing fast. Soon he'd have the strength of four grown marine powerlifters. But Coach Kessler would worry about that later. For now he said, "Hit the showers, bud, let's go out for lunch."

"Chinese buffet?" asked Paul.

"Yeah, kid.. all you can eat."

"Hell yeah!" said Paul, heading for the showers.


Part 3

The morning after they hit the chinese buffet, Paul slept late. Apparently, the "all you can eat" rule at the buffet did not apply to huge musclehead teens who take the entire chafing dish of food off the buffet, eat everything in it, only to return for more chafing dishes full of food. The owners told them to never come back, and were yelling at them in Chinese the whole way out.

It was nearly noon when Coach Kessler went in to wake up Paul. He noticed that Paul's alarm clock had been smashed into pieces next to the bed.

"Hey man, come on, time to get up," said Coach. He flicked on the light. Paul growled and said,"Make me."

The coach walked over to the bed, and tore the covers back. "Shit," he said, stepping back. Paul had apparently spent the last twelve hours in bed turning all that chinese food into new musclemass. His huge muscles looked pumped up like balloons, only rockhard. He had the look of an off-season superheavyweight bodybuilder/powerlifter. His 8pak protuded out, but still tight and hard as granite. He sat up in bed, and hit a double-bi shot. His massive arms rose and rose, peaking out at 28" of rugged biceps.

"Yeahhhh, coachie...come on man, try and get me up," said the huge teen. The coach went over to him, reached out quickly and grabbed Paul's big thumb, bending it back as far as he could. The kid grimaced, but then stared at the coach hard. He began to push back, using only his thumb. He stood up. The coach, startled, put his other hand on top of the thumb and pushed down hard with both arms. But then Paul began to raise his arm. The coach lean all his weight against the thumb, and Paul pushed back and up. Soon, the coach's feet lifted up off the ground, his entire weight pushing on Paul's musclethumb. Paul pressed the coach up and down, his huge arm bulging, the veins pulsing. Then the kid pushed the coach up and out, flicking his thumb hard, and sending the coach flying across the room, slamming into the wall.

"Well,"said Coach, shaking it off,"at least I got you outta bed. Now let's go out for a run."

Paul shrugged, then pulled on his shorts and shoes, and strutted out behind the coach. They got outside to run, but first Coach said "Here, put this on." He held up a backback that he had loaded with 250lbs of weights.

"Nice touch," said Paul. "Where's yours?" he asked, grinning as he slipped the heavy bag onto his massive back.

"You're the one in training, boy, not me," answered Coach."Now let's run."

They took off, running up and down the steep hillsides that surrounded the wrestling camp. Coach was pushing hard too, trying to gauge the stamina of this massive kid. To his amazement, the boy ran up and down the hills without even getting winded. In fact, eight miles into the run, the coach was trudging up the steepest incline yet, and thought he was leaving Paul behind, when, to his surprise, Paul passed him up, running backwards. Paul grinned at him as he passed, and said "Shit, coach, you shoulda put 450 into this pack!", as he disappeared over the hilltop.

Headed back to camp, Paul was way ahead of him. By the time he got back, the boy was waiting for him outside the gym.

"What took you?" said Paul. "I already weighed in. Came in at 299 today." He looked at the coach and bounced his immense pec shelves back and forth. "And look what that run did to these legs." He pulled up the legs of his shorts, exposing his quads totally. His legs were obscenely bloated with pump. He flexed them and made the mounds of muscle ripple with insane power.

"Nice, huh?" he said. "And check out these calves". He arched his foot up and popped out the calf muscle. "Bigger than footballs, Coach." He squeezed even harder, and a deep split formed down the middle. "Yeahhhhh," he sneered.

"What'd ya think, Coach, am I ready for pro wrestling?"

"Not a bad idea," said Coach. Not a bad idea at all, he thought.


Part 4

After their 8-mile run, Paul was starving. They went into the kitchen, where Coach Kessler had the food ready. He had started ordering food from the catering company down the street, as Paul was eating so much, he couldn't keep up. Coach laid out two full trays of lasagne, half of a turkey, two loaves of whole wheat bread, and a 4-gallon pitcher of whole milk. Paul laid into the food like he hadn't eaten for a week, shoving it into his mouth, and washing it down with huge gulps of milk, straight from the pitcher. Coach went into his office to work on some things, and when he came out twenty minutes later, all the food was gone. Paul was still at the table, where he was flexing his biceps over and over, checking one out, then the other, and going "Yeahhhhh, fucking huge", as the calorie-enriched blood filled his arms full and tighter than ever. He looked up sleepily at the coach. "Time for a nap," he said, and lumbered out of the room, turning sideways to fit through the doorway.

Coach went back to his office to finish up his work. He had decided to cancel wrestling camp for the rest of the kids, and to concentrate totally on Paul's training. He was also checking into getting Paul a shot at a pro wrestling venue. This process had hit a snag because Paul was only sixteen, and Coach wasn't sure what to do. He had been in his office about an hour when he heard a loud crash coming from Paul's room. When he got down there, Paul was on the floor and looking angry.

"Goddam bed's too small,"he growled. He stood up and tossed the mattress across the room. Then he picked up the heavy metal bedframe and began to crush it with his massive arms. The metal crumpled easily against his strength. His huge pecs rolled and surged as he pressed back and forth on the bedframe, crushing it smaller and smaller. Thick veins popped out of his bullneck and across his thick broad chest. He crushed and crushed, hunching his huge delts into the metal, compressing the bedframe into a soccer ball sized metal heap. Then, holding the metal ball straight out in one hand, he squeezed some more. His brutally strong forearm muscles thickened and swelled with power. He gritted his teeth and hissed, as his thick fingers dug into the metal like it was putty. Then he reared back and threw the mangled mass into the wall, embedding it into the cinder blocks.

"That,"he sneered,"takes care of that."

If the coach was amazed by the kid's strength, he was even more awe-struck by the fierce pump the bed-crushing had given him. The kid stood at over 6'3", and had to weigh at least 360, all of it muscle. He was a freak musclegiant kid, snarling and sweating, filling the room with his massive powerhouse presence. Who the hell was the coach gonna find to wrestle this boy?

As if reading his mind, the kid said,"When am I gonna get to take down a pro wrestler, Coach?" He stood in the room in a relaxed stance, but his huge lats pushed his arms up and out, and his fingers where splayed out and ready to rumble. He looked like he could take on a tank. Maybe two tanks.

"The problem is, Paul, that you're too young. No one will sign up a sixteen year old."

"What if I told you that my parents started me in school a year late, so they lied about my age."

"Yeah?" said Coach.

"And that I'm actually seventeen, and that tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday."

"Well, now, that would change everything," said the coach.

"Sure would," said Paul, stepping toward the coach."And you know what I want for my birthday?"

"What's that?"asked the coach, a little nervous.

"You'll find out tomorrow, cause if you don't give it to me, I might just have to take it." The kid rolled his humungous hogtits at the coach and grinned.

"We'll work on that tomorrow, then," said Coach, and he backed out of the room, closing the door. His heart was pounding so hard, his ears were ringing. He'd never been so turned on. He ached to experience the kid's superhuman strength. He knew exactly what he wanted to give the kid.


Part 5

Coach Kessler made his way out to the track, where Paul was training. Even from afar, the coach could see the freakish mass of eighteen year old wrestler. The lab had just called with the results of Paul's blood tests and MRI's. Apparently, Paul's pituitary, hypothalamus, and thyroid glands were pumping out ten times the amount of luteinizing,gonadotropic, and GH-precursor hormones than a normal teen athlete. Also, in order to explain the Paul's intense growth during the past two months (now at 6'4", he weighed in at 396lbs of pure muscle), the research doctor at the lab hypothesized that Paul's myostatin gene had shut down, allowing his freakish muscle development to continue unabated.

The coach walked up to the track, where Paul was doing handstand pushups. Rep after rep, he pushed his huge body up and down, slow and steady, sometimes stopping midway and holding, testing his enormous strength. When he noticed the coach standing next to him, he pushed off the ground with his arms, flipped up, and landed on his feet with a thud, agile as a panther.

"Not bad, huh, coach? I lost count at 250, but check out this fucking Pump!" Paul squared of his huge shoulders, put his hands on his waist, and hit a lat spread. The coach stepped back in order to take in the kid's size. Paul's massive torso was engorged and bloated from the handstands. Thick veins criss-crossed his swollen chest over to his delts and down his massive arms. The coach felt dizzy as he watched Paul's lats spread out wider and wider, jutting out from behind his arms in an amazing display of power.

"Yeahhhh....look at me, Coach. When you gonna line me up with that pro wrestling league. I need to fight someone soon."

"Soon as I can, Paul. First, the doctor's stopping by to give you a physical, check you out. He'll be here any minute."

"Yeah? Cool," said Paul. "He gonna test my strength. I can show him some strength, coach." With that, Paul stepped over to the goalpost. He put one big hand around the steel post and began to squeeze. His thick wrist began to ripple with power, and his huge forearm bulged. He grinned at the coach, then squeezed harder. The steel post began to give under the crushing power of his fingers. The goalpost began to teeter. With one final roar, Paul crumpled the steel, and the post fell to the ground, snapped by the huge teen musclehead.

"YEHHHH", growled Paul, and he hit a biceps shot with the victorious arm. Up swelled the peak, higher and higher, and deeply split. His forearm was thick with veins, and the coach could actually see them pulsing. The coach almost blew at the sight, but he managed to hold back.

"Let's go in so you can shower before the doctor gets here," he said. They went inside just as the doctor was pulling into the parking lot. He was dying to meet this big kid with the bizarre lab reports. He got out of his car and looked around the training field. He wondered if lightning had struck the goalpost that was on the ground. Looked like it was snapped like a twig. He made his way to the office and met the coach. They talked for a bit about Paul's growth and strength, and the doctor assumed that the coach was exaggerating a bit.

"I told Paul to meet you in the lockerroom after his shower, Doctor," said Coach Kessler. "He should be done by now." Coach showed him the way, and the doctor went into the lockerroom. As he walked in, Paul stepped around from a row of lockers, naked except for the towel around his waist.

"Whoa," said the doctor, backing up into the wall. Even as a sports medicine specialist, he'd never seen muscularity like this. So much muscle...muscle piled on muscle, and , freshly showered, it glistened and rippled with Paul's slightest movement.

"You must be the doc," said Paul, grinning. He knew exactly what his effect was on people seeing him for the first time, and he loved it. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said the doctor, regaining his composure. "Just took me by surprise, that's all."

"That happens," smirked Paul.

"Let's step over to this table so I can take a look at you."

"OK," said Paul, turning and heading over to the table. The doctor got a good look at Paul's enormous V'd back. Paul hopped up onto the table.

"Unwrap the towel for me, if you would, Paul," said the doctor, still soaking in the kid's freak mass.

"OK, Doc, but I gotta warn you, once it feels fresh air, it's gonna grow."

"That's fine, Paul, that happens all the time."

Not like this, thought Paul to himself. He opened up his towel as the doctor dug through his black bag. Paul's cock began to respond immediately, like a boa coming out of a long sleep. It swelled and swelled, then began to rise up. It slapped up against Paul's abs, completely vertical, till his big mushroom head nearly touched his huge rounded pecs.

The doctor stood up from his bag and looked over at Paul. "Holy shit," he said outloud.

"I told you," said Paul.

The doctor stepped over to Paul. He could feel the heat coming off Paul's huge body. He could smell the testosterone sweat of the freshly showered teen giant. Now the doc's hand were shaking a bit. Only thirty-four years old, he had done his fair share of lifting, and spent alot of time with big musclemen, but Paul was a whole different league. He felt himself becoming aroused.

"OK, Paul," he stammered,"I'm going to began the examination." He reached down to Paul's groin, and cupped Paul's testicles. My god, thought the doctor...they're big as plums, only heavier. He could actually feel the testes pumping out fluid, throbbing and throbbing with it. He rolled them around in his hand, his heart pounding. He looked up at Paul, and they made eye-contact. Paul stared hard at him, then said "You like that, doc?" Paul's erect cock was oozing pre all over the swollen head and thick long shaft. The doctor started to pull his hand away, put Paul grabbed him and pushed it back.

"That's ok, doc, it feels good. Do it some more, I know you want to." He pushed the doc's hand around his groin, then up his shaft. "Ahh, yeah, feels so good, doc."

The doctor tried half-heartedly to pull away again. Paul squeezed his wrist harder. "Doc, I got over 200lbs of muscle and strength on you, and now that this monster is unleashed, it's gonna have to spew, and I know you want it. Why don't you spend some time worshipping this muscle? Feel my thighs, doc, they're fucking huge and hard as steel. You'll never feel anything like it again in your life."

By now, the doc had a raging hard-on himself, and wanted nothing more than to do what Paul said. He ran his hand down Paul's huge legs. Paul flexed his 43"quads over and over under the doc's hand, the muscle writhing up and down.

"Oh my god," moaned the doc.

"That's right, doc... worship me."

"My god, Paul, so much muscle."

"That's it, doc. Now worship my cock while I flex for you." The doc took Paul's cock in his mouth, working it like an expert, and looked up as Paul flexed his massive chest shelf, bouncing his monster pecs over and over. Then he brought up his arms, and crunched them into a double-bi shot.

"Look at these fuckers, Doc,"growled Paul, squeezing his pythons into 26" peaks. And the doctor looked. And he came, and came, right in his pants, harder than he had ever come in his life. His whole body shuddered with it.

"Yeah, that's it, doc," said Paul. "Now, get ready." He put his hand on the back of the doc's head and pushed down gently. The doc took the shaft deep.

"Ahh yeahhhhh," growled Paul. "Gonna fucking unload." Then he unloaded into the doc's mouth, jet after jet of musclejiz. The doc swallowed and swallowed, yet some of the milky jiz still leaked down Paul's shaft. Paul lifted him off his cock, and sat back.

"Nice exam, doc," he said, smirking. "Am I healthy?"

"Healthy as an ox," said the doc.