*** Maximum Himbo ***
Albie swaggered into the gym. He wore a tight shirt that showed off his slender torso, plus the gray thong he had gotten from the Jockhole last week. He felt ready to start hitting the iron.
The receptionist was already talking to a blond boy just as twinky as Albie himself.
"Don't worry, Rhys," the Chinese jock behind the counter said. "We work with positive reinforcement here. You won't want to leave by the end."
The boy named Rhys got a pair of gloves and the receptionist tossed one to Albie, too. They both got towels as well. Great service, no doubt.
Albie held the towel over his arm, where his tribal tattoo was, keeping it at the side where his Jokchole tattoo was adorned with more tribal patterns.
He just followed Rhys to the locker room and dropped his belongings into a cabinet.
"Cool, they have socks to borrow here," Rhys said, with a soft voice. "How convenient."
"Seems unusual," Albie said. "I've not heard of a gym that gives away free clothes. Isn't there a price tag?"
"Not that I can see."
Albie had a look. It turned out there was a brand new cooperation with some shoe business going on and he could even grab new running shoes.
Albie slipped into some white socks – Hadn't there been down arrows on them a second ago? – and tried on a pair of dickskin brand shoes.
He looked good in the mirror but that wasn't the shoes' work. Obviously his beautifully tight skin that made his veins pop was responsible for letting his twink frame look more shredded than he was.
For a moment he admired the vein gently running down his arm and zigzagging out into lightning bolts, plus the two veins at the bottom of his abs that emphasized his V-shape even through the shirt.
"Fuck yeah," Albie said, his mouth hanging open. "Gonna get so fucking big."
Rhys didn't say anything. Drool dripped from his mouth onto his bare chest. He wore elbow and knee pads.
"Wanna get fucking started, bro?" Albie asked.
Rhys only grinned, eyes glazed over.
As soon as Albie and his new friend stepped into the gym, the receptionist offered them a free Nuke Juice.
Rhys picked vanilla – the first one in the row. Albie wanted to be serious about training and got cucumber-carrot, which sounded as healthy as things could go.
Weird, how his thong had fit so well when he had bought it, but now his shredded cock was barely contained. His shaft was clearly exposed anytime he raised his arms, lifting his shirt.
Albie picked a chest machine and with another sip of Nuke Juice he got started. The receptionist scribbled on a little piece of paper, while Albie figured out the right weight to use.
For reasons he didn't think about he shouted with ever rep "Wreck my hole!"
While the twink smashed his workout, his thong started caressing his dick like the world's most amazing blowjob. A thongjob?
His dick rose like a stack of soda cans until he couldn't have hidden it if he had tried to. On the tenth rep, his dick sneezed and cum squirted through the fabric. Good thing he had the towel to clean up before anyone noticed.
For his next ten reps he shouted "Break my ass!" while the Nuke Juice worked its magic. Was it caffeine or something? It felt as if his muscles were growing as he watched.
"Fuck yeah," he said as he flexed to himself, cum covered from his second orgasm. "Gonna get so big, bro. Oh yeah."
With his third set came the next thongjob, but the amount of cum never decreased. Albie shouted "Tear my boy cunt open!" with every exhale.
He shivered as he cummed again on the twelfth rep. His towel was getting a little crusted.
Looking for a different machine, he spotted Rhys at the squat rack. The drooling twink was pissing himself slightly with every down motion.
Albie walked to the reception.
"Hey bro, whassup?" he asked the Chinese guy.
The jock smiled. "Need more hydration?"
"Fuck yeah, would be neat, bro. Man, you have a tight bod. Wouldn't mind a round on my titan?"
"Technically that's a doombringer," the gym owner said, his hand over a tag full of the lewd things Albie had shouted before. "But nevermind. Do you need more instructions too?"
"Nah, bro. Just gonna do some dead lifts."
"Care to borrow a belt?"
While the guy ducked behind the counter, Albie drank from the new bottle. Refreshing coolness surged through his stomach and pushed the heat outward where sweat rushed alongside his veins.
With a gentle grunt, the shredded mega-dicked twink pissed himself. He clutched his package and pressed the "doombringer" to his thigh so the stream ran down quietly.
The Chinese jock boy emerged with a belt and a headband.
"Here you go, Albie."
"Fuck yeah. Thanks, bro."
The twink on his journey to jockhood put weights onto a barbell and snapped the belt on.
He had to stand with his legs far apart to allow his package to hang out of the way of the barbell. It was pretty big even though his massive dick was forever locked away. He had worn the dick cage for six weeks but his slow brain was already too flooded with sex hormones to think of anything but fucking and lifting.
Somehow the thongjob continued. His hole was gently caressed and his balls playfully pulled. Even though his dick would never receive stimulation again, Albie's orgasm steadily approached.
After a total of fifty deadlift reps, he cummed into his thong which instantly overflowed.
He tried to catch the gung in his towel, instead letting sweat drip into his eyes.
Right, he had gotten a headband for this reason.
In the post orgasm glow, Albie took a swing of Hydrator and as a piss stream shot down between his spread legs, he pulled the headband on.
It was red and blue and labeled K-Power.
Satisfied with his pump, Alb... Ha-Joon turned toward a mirror to see his pulsing, swelling muscles. The Korean semi-muscular twunk jolted when he felt a rush of horniness.
From the moment the headband had touched his skin, Ha-Joon had felt the urge to jerk off like he hadn't since the first few weeks of chastity.
There was only one solution. He needed to work out and hope his magic thong was going to keep doing the same trick all over.
Ha-Joon had spent the whole day at the gym. He had hit every machine several times and his body had expanded by a few pounds. Fresh cum covered the dried paths of old cum.
A hot Korean who only called himself Little Dong had offered to lick him clean, but Ha-Joon had made enough friends today. His muscles just wanted a hot shower.
On his way to the locker room, he passed by Rhys.
"Uh, buddy? Fuck. You still on the rack? Ain't you squatted enough, bro?"
Rhys stood in the middle of a pile of cum crusted and sweat drenched towels. The boy, who was fully covered in tattoos, had gained enough muscles to no longer pass as a twink. Five Nuke Juice bottles lay empty at his feet.
"Um, Rhys?" Ha-Joon tried again. "Wanna stop squatting for a second?"
Rhys did indeed stop after shooting a load into his jockstrap but only for long enough to wipe himself clean with a fresh towel.
He wiped across his bare face – no, his tattooed face – and went right back to the barbell.
Ha-Joon waved at Niu to get his attention.
A minute later Niu was at the rack and told Rhys to stop.
With heavily trembling legs, the blond jock drooled at the two observers.
Niu pulled at the elbow protectors and found white socks.
"Wow," Niu said. "He stuffed his pads cause they didn't fit. Knee pads, too. Those are, let's see... Eight pair of Himbo socks. It's a miracle he's not too dumb to breathe."
"Fuck. Can you, like, help him or some shit?" Ha-Joon asked, unsure what was going on.
Niu shrugged. "I'll call HQ. Do you care to wait here with him?"
"Ha, he's fucking hot to watch. Muscle Himbos are the good shit."
Niu smirked as he looked at Ha-Joon's own footwear. "Funny you'd say that. But we shouldn't let him stand there, all sweaty. Rhys! Strip!"
The muscle boy dutifully undressed.
"Rhys! Shower!"
Ha-Joon accompanied the himbo into the tiled corned of the locker room and they washed up. Staring only at the still leaking tool between Rhys' ripped quads, Ha-Joon didn't even register that he himself emerged with a close crew cut, while the himbo's hair was now a pink mohawk.
Niu came back with his hands full.
"So HQ gave me some options. First of all, they put in a sort of bug fix so I can tell who's wearing socks and how many. Uh, not that you'd get what I mean."
"Huh?" Ha-Joon made.
He scratched his neck where the Himbo tattoo was.
"Nothing," Niu said and turned to the most muscular guy in the room who had a massive Himbo tattoo on his forehead, about eight times as big as Ha-Joon's.
"Rhys! Get dressed!"
Niu handed over a jockstrap and a yellow tank top that said Beta-T.
"So Ha-Joon, tell me. Do you want to own a muscle himbo?"
"Fuck yeah, that would be perfect."
"But a mute is no ideal, so here are two pairs of up-socks."
Rhys slowly pulled on a pair for his feet, then stared at the remaining two for a long time before putting them on like mittens.
"Rhys! What's up?" Niu said in a commanding voice.
"...Fuck," Rhys said. "Wanna... ride my dick... slut boy?"
"Good enough," Niu said. He slapped a leashed collar around Rhys' neck and handed the leash over to the confused Ha-Joon.
"Any questions?" Niu asked them both.
Rhys smacked his drooling lips. "Whip me... sir... fuck, please."
Niu turned to Ha-Joon. "Bring him by the gym every day. Otherwise, bang each other silly. Good luck. Now get out, we're closing."
The Korean himbo and his much himbo-ier, fully tattooed muscle pain slave left while Rhys struggled to put on the Beta-T shirt while leashed.
Next time Niu gets a huge surprise.