From: studlyhunk19@yahoo.com
Hello All -

This is my first post to the group, so I hope it is not out of line.

I am writing my first muscle growth fantasy, and want to send it here in parts 
as I write it, for comments, suggestions etc.  It is my hope that it will end up 
at Metabods or somewhere for all to read.  Again, this is just the 
beginning...I'm open to any and all comments.  More to come in the next few 
days.  -Tanner
___________________________________________________________________

STUDS

I had no idea how in the world I had gotten the assignment.  It seemed
that no one could have been more ill fitted for the job.  I remember how 
surprised I was when my editor told me I'd be going in undercover for an expose 
on the new company in town, STUDS.

I was working for a less than reputable newspaper.  OK, it was a downright 
sleazy tabloid, but a writer has got to make a living somehow, right?  Anyway, 
STUDS was one of these hunk-o-rama calendar and dancing companies.  They had a 
local club where women by the hundreds would go to see hunky men bare it all to 
Top 40 Hits.  STUDS also put out a hot calendar so women could have their very 
own hottie plastered to their walls, staring at them with his deep baby blues.

For a month at least, then behind the next page was a hunk to rival the one from 
the month before.  Personally, I too had one of these calendars.  Except I taped 
the picture of the current month's stud to the ceiling above my bed, then prayed 
to God that the tape lost it's sticky.

The men that worked for STUDS were just about the biggest, most gorgeous 
creatures on earth.  I had seen other men around, even other professional men in 
porns or gay strip joints.  But these guys were amazing.  Their facial features 
were flawless, their skin as smooth as it was the day they were born.  Except 
now it had a deep, rich tan.

They all shared the same amazing physique.  Amazingly broad shoulders.

 Biceps that made footballs blush and forearms like steel.

Throughout their muscled bods ran thick veins, which stood out proudly.  Perhaps 
their most breath-taking feature were their chests.  These men had huge slabs of 
beef for pectorals that made you wonder why they don't just fall forward with 
the massive weight.  Each pec was chiseled and cut perfectly, protruding out 
from the body inches and inches.

Between them was a divide that seemed so deep, it looked like water had carved 
out a canyon.  The nipples were perfect as well, the size of a quarter and 
perfectly round.  God, what I would have given to have felt up one of those 
chests.  Little did I know...


To call the abs on these men 6-packs would have been in insult. 8-pack, or hell, 
even 10 on some of them was more like it.  Gave a new meaning to the term 
washboard abs.  In fact, it seemed these men redefined the term "hunk" just by 
existing.  They had muscled legs that looked like they could hold on to you for 
hours.  And although they were never nude, anyone could tell that the STUD men 
were hung like horses.  In each picture of every calendar, these scantily clad 
men were owners of a perversely huge bulge between their legs.  No matter what 
the pose or setting, these bulges caught the eye, and drew all attention towards 
them.  The STUD men wore tiny bikinis, or posing straps, or sometimes jock 
straps which did very little to hide their overly generous endowment.  In fact, 
it looked as if the picture was taken only moments before the bikini burst from 
the strain of all the weight of their meat.  Lucky bikini!  Shit, what I 
wouldn't have given to have seen one of these huge sets exposed.  Again, little 
did I know...


STUDS had been an overnight sensation, and I was lucky enough to live in the 
same town as their headquarters.  However, it wasn't long before some questions 
arose, especially around my office, where just about anything becomes a front 
page story.  Where did all these physically perfect men come from?  Where had 
they been before?  Why didn't anyone ever see them around town, grocery shopping 
or in the gym?  It was because of these questions that my editor decided to do a 
story on them.  He thought that the only way to do a "proper" story, however, 
was to get someone on the inside.  His plan was to get me into the STUDS office 
as a secretary.

I went into the STUDS office complex (which was immense, much like the
studs themselves) the next day.  I was surprised again by how fast I got an 
interview and was hired on the spot.  It seemed like they really needed a good 
secretary.  I went down the hall to their own physician and took the customary 
drug test.  He also insisted on a blood analysis.  I thought this was strange, 
but, who's to argue.

The very next day, I was sitting in a desk, answering phones.  "Hello, you've 
reached the STUDS company.  How may I help you?"

A week went by, and I didn't see anything unusual.  That is what bothered me.  I 
didn't see any huge muscle men around, I didn't see photographers or anything 
that would make you think that this was anything other than a lawyer's firm.  My 
editor was getting upset that I hadn't gotten anything good for a story.  
Apparently the headline "STUDS Company is Uninteresting" doesn't make for good 
sales.  He was just about to pull me out of there in lost hope when I got called 
in, unexpectedly, into the Senior Executive in Charge of Model Recruitment's 
office.  This meeting would certainly change my life...


As soon as I walked into his office, I knew that this man was built.

I sprang an immediate erection.  He wasn't nearly as big as the STUD models, but 
he still had the physique that most men would kill for.

Even through his shirt, I saw muscles rippling with his every movement, and he 
had broad shoulders and a thick neck.  He stood up to shake my hand and I saw 
that even he had a full basket that was staining against the fly of his pants.  
He introduced himself as David, and we both took our seats, his behind the desk, 
and mine in front.


"Kevin," he said, "I'll cut right to the point.  My job here is to find men who 
have the potential of becoming a model for us.  I believe
that you would be excellent."

I nearly fell out of my chair.  Me?  A STUD?  No way.  I certainly wasn't 
gorgeous.  That, however, seemed the last of my problems.  I was downright 
scrawny.  No fat, but no muscle, either.  And so far as the cock and balls go, I 
was still coming to grips that I'd be a measly 5 inches erect all my life.  It 
must have been all this that made me laugh.

"Oh, don't laugh, Kevin.  I know what you're thinking; you just can't believe 
that you would be a STUD.  Well, your physical results from the doctor have come 
in, and you have the perfect blood type and construction for it."

Blood type and construction...what the hell was he talking about?

"Just sign here, and we'll take care of the rest."  In a blind stupor I signed 
his paper.  It sounded like I might be getting a story after all, and besides, 
this might allow me to get a glimpse or two at some real STUD beef.

I was escorted down the hall, and into an elevator.  Once there, I was
taken through a hallway connecting the office to another building that
was hidden back behind it.  I hadn't even noticed this building before.  Once 
there, I was amazed to see that it looked a lot like a hotel, or country club.  
The halls were lined with doors.  Each door sported a name of one of the huge 
men I had grown to obsess.  I was even more surprised when I was taken to my 
room, with "Kevin" written on the door.  This must all have been some mistake.  
My escorts put me in my room, and then proceeded to hit me over the head with 
the lamp.

After I gained consciousness, I knew I felt different...Then I figured it out.  
Not only did I have a raging headache from being knocked out I had a sore arm 
from a shot.  I could see a small needle prick in the
vein of my elbow.

I got up, and walked around the room.  It was lavishly furnished.  I went into 
the bathroom, and stared at myself in the mirror.  How did I
get here?  Who are they fooling?  I'm no STUD.  Then I began to feel warm.  
Tingly, even.  This was too weird, and I thought I must have a concussion from 
the "lamp over the head incident" so I went to go lie back down.  It wasn't 
until I turned to go out of the bathroom until I noticed that I seemed a little 
bit taller.  Again, I rode this off as being a side effect of my extreme 
headache.  I walked out the bathroom door, and smacked my right shoulder into 
the wall.  This pissed me off...you'd figure that I'd been walking through 
doorways all my life and by now I would know how wide I was.  It wasn't like I 
was any bigger than when I went it.  But then it started.   I WAS bigger.  I 
looked in the mirror totally in awe, as the tingling got more intense.

 I was growing...