From: rad_rx@hotmail.com Titan Video -- Personal Trainer, Part 2 I was working out again with my PT when I noticed that he seemed a bit out of it. This usually meant two things:1. I didn't get pushed for a hard workout, and 2. he didn't spend any time between my sets flexing for himself in the mirror. Why else would I need a personal trainer if not for those fringe benefits? I knew he was always upset at the politics of competition and how tough it was to make pro. Turns out that he wasn't making the kind of gains he thought he needed to show improvement over his years in competition. He'd always competed as a very solid light-heavyweight with great symmetry. He was concerned that his frame would not be able to maintain symmetry if he went for more mass using 'G.' Furthermore, he'd been having dreams lately convincing him that he had it in him to become a behemoth. "Uh-Oh," I thought, "guess the mind wipe wasn't as clean as I had hoped." Feeling as if he'd already shared too much, he didn't want to discuss it anymore. I considered confessing our prior experience with hypermusculature, but thought it might boost him to have another go. We finished the workout and headed out to a local health food cafe for some buffalo burritos. On the way, I added a few pounds to his upper body, just enough to give him a nice pumped feel. He took notice as the food was being prepared. Clasping his hands behind his head, he stretched his arms overhead and checked out his biceps peaks in the mirror. "Not too bad, though, I gotta admit," I said. "Yeah, but I don't see myself that way in the mirror," he responded. "I use it as a tool, and right now I don't feel like it's doing any good." "What about your clothes, though," I brought up. "Your chest fills out that nylon tank top like it's painted on." Bringing his wrists together on the table, he flexed his pecs upward into the space between his arms. "Yeah, I guess they're not that bad. Maybe I just needed to be out of the gym among regular people to realize it." I continued to stroke his ego throughout the meal, hoping he would be up for what was about to come. "You got any more clients today?" I asked. "No, why?" "Just wondering if you'd like to get your chance at a pro card, that's all." "How do you plan to manage that." "How tall are you?" "5-9," he responded. "And how tall am I?" "6 even." "OK, just keep that in mind on the way out the door." I smiled. The check came, and we went. I let him lead, and as he held the door open for me, he noticed that he was looking me straight in the eye. "Hold on a minute," he said, grabbing my shoulder and wheeling me around to face him. "What the fuck is going on here?" "Don't ask how, just kick back and enjoy it," I encouraged. "This is what I was talking about earlier, but I'm not sure how far you're willing to go." "I didn't feel a thing. How much more can I have?" "More than you'll need, but we have to go someplace we won't be disturbed." "My brother is out of town for the week. He's spent a fortune converting his garage into a home gym slash rec room -- complete with mirrored walls." "I hope you're feeling better about yourself," I said in the car on the way. I had decided to let him drive in order to keep his mind off the recent changes in his body. It didn't work. "I just can't believe how incredible this feels. Not only that, but why didn't I notice it earlier. I mean, right now I'm trying to put my hands on the wheel in their regular spot, but there's too much mass in the way. Not that I mean to complain . . . " he trailed off as he did a quick flexing survey to make sure that everything was still there. "But really, I gotta weigh close to 250 now, that's 30 pounds, and I didn't even notice?" "You were probably too busy putting yourself down to notice a pound here, an inch there," I said, covering up the fact that I had dulled his sensory system during the changes. "Sometimes the changes are sudden enough that they are impossible to miss. Like this" I said as I added another 30 pounds of mass in a matter of seconds." "WHOA," he cried as both his arms flew off the steering wheel, pushed off by the rapid expansion of his chest and shoulders. Reaching over to grab the wheel, I made certain to brush my hand against the taut nylon stretching across his chest. "See what I mean?" "OK, I guess I'm just going to have to drive single-handed," he responded. "Which leaves you with some free areas to explore as well," he smiled and flexed up his 23-inch right bicep, pressing my own shoulder back into the seat as he finished the pose with his forearm brushing over my chin. "Too bad for you we're almost there. I for one am starting to feel a bit cramped, which is something I never thought I'd say when I got this Explorer." We arrived at his brother's place without further incident. His driving wasn't the best when he was in control of his body; I didn't want to take the chance. Pulling into the drive of a standard suburban homestead, he threw open his door and made a grand show of how difficult it now was for his shoulders to fit squarely through the door jam. "Always showing off," I cracked and added silently "just you wait." Coming around to my side of the vehicle, he jumped into a ready stance as if to take me down wrestling. "Easy there, big guy, I haven't lost so much weight under your tutelage that I'm gonna be that light." "Oh, yeah. I feel like I could take on two of you," he said as he lunged and grabbed me around the waist. Feigning a struggle, I let him heft me easily over his shoulder and allowed my face to hit the middle of his back. As if I had any leverage for resistance in this position, I reached around him and pulled myself into him, groping for the large chest that I knew was up front somewhere. "It's a good thing there aren't any neighbors at home. Otherwise they'd have some good stories to tell," I said. "They already have enough to talk about with my brother living here." "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Just wait until you see the `gym'. For now, just hang on and enjoy the ride." I felt his bicep flex tighter into my waist as he prepared to walk to the side door leading directly to the garage. Uncertain whether he was having difficulty adjusting the balance of his walk or simply lumbering intentionally for my benefit, I was certain he felt my excitement as we reached the door. He fidgeted around with the keys for a few seconds while I reached over my head and massaged one of his swollen thighs. "Yo, save it for the gym," he directed and flexed his thighs together, trapping my forearm between the muscular pair of quads. I heard the lock slide open and he continued his lumber into the darkened garage. I could see pieces of gym-quality equipment passing by as we crossed the room. Without warning, I felt him reverse the heave and literally drop me toward the floor. "Ooosssshh," was about all I had time to say before I landed on a very well stuffed leather chair. My head snapped up to look at my trainer who was smugly standing over me with his arms akimbo. Going beyond this into a front lat spread, he asked, "so whaddyathink?" "Of you or the gym? Frankly, I've seen smug posing from you, so let me have a look around to see if the place will do." With that I got up and had my first good look around. He wasn't kidding when he told me how much money had been put out here. "Mind if I ask why a home gym needs a couple of leather couches and chairs facing the workout equipment?" "Welcome to `Casa Myophile'" he said and smiled. "You mean you have a brother into muscle worship?" I asked incredulously. "Big time. In fact, the bigger the better the time." "Holy shit, there's even a . . ." "Juice bar or wet bar," he continued my statement, "depending on how far they want the party to go." Walking over to it I checked out a few recipe cards lying out on the counter. I started reading "pour can of Pure Protein shake over crushed ice in shaker. Add 2 jiggers vodka and shake well. Strain and serve in chilled double-martini glass." "That's one of his original muscle party drinks. He calls it a `Proteini'" "Sounds like fun," I said while gathering up the ingredients "want one?" "No thanks, I already know what I want," he said while making a large show of his chest straining at the fabric of his tank top. "What about your nutritional content?" "Can't I just chug some of the protein straight?" he asked. "You could, but of course it all depends on how far you want the party to go," I replied. "Fuck it, with this much mass, how much can one drink do to me?" he mused. I mixed the drink, and he downed in a single quaff. "OK then, let's get started," he said. Walking behind me and facing my back, he pressed himself up against me as if to do a standing spoons move. Peripherally I could see his arms extended straight out at shoulder height as he pressed himself closer. Rather than grab me all at once, he allowed his arms to remain straight until each joint had encountered the resistance of my body. This gave his hold on me more of the firm feeling of a muscle machine than a clinging dependant. "Ready when you are," he said. I asked if he wouldn't rather be where I could see him as well as what I was doing. Similar to people taking smaller steps when walking backward because they feel less comfortable making progress in unseen directions. "I'll be OK, I'll indicate a body part, and you do your stuff." With that he tightened his grab around my shoulders and I felt him flex his chest against my back. Figuring this was as good a time as any, I increased his height by several inches and felt his chest climb up toward my shoulders. He groaned in anticipation of filling out this new frame. Not wanting to disappoint, I watched as the arms encircling me grew by several more inches. He allowed them to relax heavily on my own as he reached forward and started to massage my chest. I challenged his reach by filling out his torso. The underseams of his tank top gave a verbal indication of my success, and he grunted trying to keep his hands in place on me. Leaning in and somewhat over me, he straddled my feet with his own and flexed his spreading quads against the entire back of my legs. Groaning, he squatted down slightly and flexed his crotch up through my ass. I could feel it straining against his shorts, so I increased the pressure. He repeated his motion and I thickened his quads again, feeling them starting to press inward around my legs. He dropped his arm under mine and reached up to hold me in place against him. Repeating his leg squatting/thrusting motion he dropped his head next to mine and whispered "more." This I got the message and timed a massive growth spurt to coincide with his squat, and I felt myself being lifted from the floor as he pressed himself upward. I was pushed forward as his chest cleared my shoulders and continued their forward expansion. His grip under my arm secured the small of my back against his navel and I was left half sitting as his thighs spread out beneath me. Dropping his arm slightly, he dragged my up and down over his crotch. From my view I could see both of his legs pumped and swelling at least 6 inches outward of my own. I could only estimate his height at around 6'9" by the flexing the tips of my toes and touching the ground at the lower end of his strokes. Crossing the room in a couple strides he let me down onto the couch, I turned over and look up at him as he surveyed himself appreciatively. Of course my perspective increased my excitement, but before I could say anything he dropped his chest down onto my face. Framing my head with his biceps, he then flexed each of his pecs over my mouth for my enjoyment. I heard the remnants of his underwear give and felt him rising massively. My waist was gripped tightly between his thighs and he squeezed me several times as we simultaneously climaxed. Wrapping one arm behind my head, he reached the other down under my back and rolled us over so that I was resting atop him, comfortably pillowed on his chest. "I'll just need a few minutes to rest up before we get pumped up for the contest." :: This message brought to you by :: the Muscle Growth Stories Mail List :: :: TO UNSUBSCRIBE: Send a blank email to :: MuscleGrowthStories- unsubscribe@egroups.com :: :: FOR MORE INFO: Visit our group page at :: http://www.egroups.com/group/MuscleGrowthStories