Commissioned by: @goodboymusclejock 

Cory watched the scrawny guy over at the free weights, bench pressing the unweighted bar, face red and straining, and worried the guy might hurt himself, he went over. “Do you need a spotter?”

The guy on the bench just kept going. Cory repeated himself, and the guy finally noticed him standing there, and a bit surprised, he lost control of the bar. Cory grabbed it and helped rack it back up.

“You really should be more careful–you should start with the machines until you have more muscle control.”

“I’m–I’m fine,” the guy said, “Just leave me alone.”

Cory insisted on spotting him through his reps on the bench, and then left the guy to his own devices. If he wanted to hurt himself, then Cory couldn’t do anything to stop him. However, Cory noticed the guy was at the gym every day after that, as well. Cory liked to stay fit, and so he went five days a week, but that wasn’t a schedule someone new to the gym should be able to keep up with. Even stranger, the guy was usually there when Cory arrived, and still on the floor after he left. One night, a week later, he hung around long enough to follow the guy into the locker room. He was covered in sweat and obviously exhausted, but in a week, Cory could already see that the guy’s body was growing a bit larger.

His suspicions were confirmed, when he saw the guy pull a pill bottle out of his bag. He took a capsule out and swallowed it down, and Cory stocked over. “You know, if you’re going to take steroids–which you shouldn’t–at least be smart enough to get the shots. Those pills will wreck your liver.”

The guy stared up at him. He was several inches shorter than Cory, but he slipped the bottle back into his bag. “They’re not steroids–and, and even if they were, just mind your own business.”

“Those things can kill you.”

The guy didn’t answer, he just left the locker room without changing. Cory shook his head, and figured there was nothing he could do about it.

Cory didn’t have much time to think on the stranger however–he was busy planning a month long business trip across Asia at work. He left the next week, and when he flew back into town a month later, he was happy to see that the scrawny guy had obviously abandoned his foolish plan, since he wasn’t at the gym when he got there.

There was, however, someone else new that Cory didn’t recognize. He was hanging around the free weights, primarily, a brutish looking guy, heavily muscled, with a hairy chest and a thick beard coating his chin and neck, and lank, greasy hair that kept falling in his face as he lifted. He was quite the nuisance, actually–he never wiped down his equipment, and so everything was coated with a sheen of his sweat. Still, something kept bothering Cory about him…something about the guy’s clothes. They were so small on him! In fact, later that week, he heard a loud rip of fabric across the gym, and saw that the guy had split open his shorts doing deadlifts. Even with everyone staring at him, he finished his reps, and then stared stupidly down at the shredded fabric around his feet, and the yellowed jockstrap he had on containing what looked like a huge package.

Cory was close by when it happened, and he found himself unable to look away. Sure, he was gay, but this guy was disgusting…right? He’d never really been interested in brutes like that before. The guy retreated from the floor and left the gym without any apparent embarrassment, but when Cory saw the ripped shorts of the ground, he realized that he had seen them before–they were the same one’s the scrawny guy had been wearing a month earlier!

That couldn’t be possible. No one, even on steroids, could grow that fast, or like that. But he had to know. He got a chance to confront him a few days later in the locker room, and he went up to the man as he got his bag from his locker. “What…what the hell are you taking?”

The brute just smirked, “I jus’ wanna bulk up man, is all,” he said, “Mind yer own business.”

This close to the brute, Cory felt his breath catch in his throat. That stench–when was the last time this guy had showered? He smelled…he smelled…Cory shivered. His cock was rock hard in his pants. The brute took a step closer. “Thanks for spottin’ me that first day though,” he said, “I didn’ know what I was doin’.”

“It…it was nothing,” Cory squeaked out. The brute lifted his arms up over his head in a stretch and then rested one arm high on the lockers, staring at Cory as he did. The bush of air in his armpit was sopping wet, and reeked. Cory couldn’t believe how tall he was–had he just remembered him differently? He’d been shorter before, but now he was taller, so much bigger than him now. The smell was so strong…so fucking nasty…

Cory stepped forward and buried his face in one of the brute’s hairy armpits, grinding his crotch against the man’s thick thigh. He came almost immediately, and the Brute shoved him down onto his knees, whipped his cock out, and after a couple of strokes unloaded his cum all over Cory’s face.

“Fuckin’ hot man…” the brute said, “Might need yer help a bit more often.”

He left Cory quivering on his knees in the locker room, trying to understand what had just happened. He wiped the cum up with his gym towel, and then started sucking on it, unable to help himself. He tried to shower when he got home, but he couldn’t bear the thought of washing off the stench of the brute’s cum. He jacked off all night long, towel pressed to his nose, imagining the scene over and over, and the next day, he was at the gym before the brute arrived, hungry for more. They met in the locker room, Cory immediately licking up the brute’s filthy body–he dragged Cory back into the shower, shoved him up against the tile wall, and wormed his cock into Cory’s ass dry. It hurt, but he needed it, he needed it so much. The brute came quick, and then pulled out, but it wasn’t enough. Cory followed him around all day in the gym, rubbing his body into the sweaty benches, losing himself in the brute’s stench, cumming twice in his own shorts just from the smell alone. They stayed at the gym all day, and when they went back into the locker room, the man pulled out the pill bottle, shook out a capsule, and held it out to Cory. “Take it.”

Cory just stared at it.

“Take it. You wanna be big like me? Stink like me? Take it, you’ll love it.”

“No…No, I can’t,” Cory said, “Look at you, this is crazy. Just a month…a month ago, you were…”

“I was weak,” the brute said, “Weak, ‘n clean ‘n smart. Now I’m big ‘n dumb ‘n filthy, it’s so fuckin’ hot…You’ll be so hot too, man.”

Cory stepped back.

“If you don’t take it, you don’t get my cock no more,” the brute said, groping himself through his shorts.

Cory whimpered.

“You don’t get to smell me no more. No more sweat, nothin’.”

Cory shook his head no, but watched the brute drop his shorts, and let his cock slip out of his filthy jock strap. It was half hard and leaking; he coated the pill in his precum, then pressed it against Cory’s lips. Shivering, he opened his mouth, letting the brute slide the pill in along with his finger. Cory swallowed the slick pill and then sucked the brute’s finger clean. It wasn’t enough, he pressed in closer, closer to the reeking pits, pressing their hot sweat together.

“I don’t even know your name,” Cory said.

“You can call me…Coach, Sport.”

Something was wrong with him. He was suddenly too hot, and sweating profusely. His body was shaking with energy, not only erotic, but overwhelming motion. He needed to work out, he needed to move and lift and shove and fuck! Coach shoved him up against the locker, they started making out, groping each other openly as men passed by, trying to ignore them, and then Cory dragged Coach into the sauna and fucked himself up and down on the rigid cock, feeling his legs start to burn from the exertion, desperate for the burn. He hadn’t worked out nearly enough, earlier, but when he tried to tell Coach that, the brute told him they were done for the day, and going home instead. He could barely contain himself as he followed Coach home to his apartment a few blocks from the gym, even though they sprinted all the way there, and the next morning, still wearing his workout clothes from the day before, rings around his eyes from not sleeping but desperate to work out, he accepted another pill from Coach without hesitation and they lifted together all day, pausing for the occasional fuck in the sauna, Cory feeling cum leak from his raw ass, sliming the leather seats of the benches that he would lick up, eager for Coach’s approval. However, close to ten hours later, when they were back in the locker room, Coach pressed two pills on him, and as much as Cory wanted to take them, he hesitated.

“This can’t be safe.”

Coach pulled him close, “Trust yer coach man, ya got lots a catchin’ up to do.”

“No–no, I can’t, I can’t do this. I missed work today, I can’t do this anymore.”

“You didn’t miss work man, you got work later tonight,” Coach put the two pills right in Cory’s mouth, “Need you good and energetic, you see. Everybody’s gonna wanna piece a yer hot ass.”

Cory felt the bitter pills dissolving in his mouth, but he didn’t spit them out. He swallowed. He raced his coach back to the apartment, and by the time they got there, time seemed to be moving too fast, he couldn’t quite keep up with what was going on. Coach stripped his work out clothes off of him and then started dragging out a bunch of leather gear from the closet. “Benn makin’ enough as a top, Sport, but the real money’s in bottomin’. Lucky we met, eh? You’re gonna be my dumb little muscle whore slave.”

Cory couldn’t quite seem to make his mouth work right to form anything other then a series of grunts and moans. His cock was so hard, he couldn’t keep his hands off of it. He let Coach put the leather gear on him, cinching the harness tight against his muscles, a thick plug in his ass, leather boots, a collar, a black hood. Coach said he looked so hot, and couldn’t resist giving him one fuck to loosen him up before they hit the clubs.

The night was a blur. Cory was never entirely sure where he was. Coach had him on a lead, and he soon found that it was as much needed to keep him focused and safe–protected from wandering astray. The only time Coach let him loose was on the dance floor–he ground his way from man to man, hot for all of them, his musk attracting them like flies. They all begged the Coach for the opportunity to fuck his slave, and at a hundred bucks for ass and fifty for head, there was a price everyone could afford. Cory knew this was wrong, knew he had been tricked, but his mind was running so slow–he couldn’t keep up with Coach, he couldn’t keep up with the parade of cocks rammed in his ass and throat. He couldn’t do anything beyond allow himself to be dragged all over town until the bars closed, when a few wealthy patrons joined them back at the apartment for an extended fuck session.

Cory woke around noon, and found the apartment empty–Coach was apparently at the gym already, and had left him to sleep off the night before. The double dose still had him reeling. His mind was shattered, and it took him an hour to pick up the pieces and figure out what was had happened. He stared at himself in the mirror. Was he already hairier? Already more muscular? Probably not, but how long until the pills started working on him like they had on Coach? How long until his mind dissolved, and all he could think about was fucking, sucking and lifting in between? He stank of sweat and musk and cum; he thought about showering, but ended up jacking off instead, his nose snorting in his own aroma. On the table, he found a scrawled note with two pills and a glass of water.

“Good job last night Sport. Got us enugh drug this morning to last a month. a few more nights like last night, and we can start buyin r own equipmnt. And rent a big apartment too. Move you in with me where you belong. Take yor pills n come to the gym. I’m waitin.”

Cory was shaking. He couldn’t take them, but he needed…he needed to feel that again. He needed that energy. He didn’t want to be a whore. He didn’t want to be some dumb, hairy, muscle bound brute. But Coach…but Coach was right…right? He’d done a good job last night. He’d enjoyed himself, even, as much as he hated admitting it. He picked up the pills in his hand, and stared at them for a moment, before swallowing them back with some water. Coach was probably getting impatient, waiting for him–he’d taken too long. By the time he’d sprinted to the gym, the world was a blur. All except for Coach, his Coach, waiting for him in the back. He smiled, and went to work out.