Mr. University, Part 1

For my poll about what to write on Patreon in June, this idea came came in second place, but when I checked the tallies originally it was a tie. So I committed to write it and hope you enjoy it - Part 1 now, and Part 2 will be up later this week. Part 3, the conclusion, will be up next week.

Dirk Jacobson heard the doorbell chime and headed for the foyer. He opened the door and was greeted by a musclebound man in his early 20s.

The guy was a little shorter than Dirk, but with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and thick muscled frame, he easily could have been a mistaken for a relative. The man was wearing a pair of tight khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt that said "Blake University Lift-A-Thon" across his chest.

"Hello, sir," said the kid. "My name is Garth Evans, and I'm a junior over at Blake University. We're having a lift-a-thon to raise money for new gym equipment, and I was wondering if you might want to sponsor me?"

Dirk looked the man over. He was one mighty specimen – every muscle was pumped to the max, and his shirt sleeves had torn a bit around the biceps. Dirk estimated he had to weigh at least 260 pounds, maybe even 280, and obviously knew his way around a weight room.

"Sure, Garth, I'd be glad to. So how does this work?"

"Well, you can give a set amount, or you can donate money for each pound I can lift in a bench press," said Garth.

"OK, so if I wanted to give around $60 total, how much money would that be per pound for a guy like you on the bench press?" asked Dirk.

Garth smiled and bounced his pecs. "Well, I'm about to break the school record of 600 pounds, so you'd only have to sponsor me 10 cents a pound."

Dirk suddenly become concerned. He had set the school record 10 years ago while attending Blake, and he was convinced it would never be broken. "Seriously? The school record in the bench press? Are you aware who set that record?"

"No, the plaque only lists the amount and not the person’s name," answered Garth. "Actually, I'm close to setting the record for the bench press, squat, and deadlift, as well as the pushup and chin-up records for someone over 200 pounds. I'm hoping to accomplish them all on the day of the lift-a-thon."

Dirk was now frowning, as he had set all those records. “How could this kid just take them all away?” he thought. “There is no way I’m going to let this punk erase my glory.” 

Besides bruising his ego, Garth’s attempt to break his records could also bruise his wallet: Dirk was just about to sign a deal to write a fitness book about keeping in shape while in college, and it was predicated on the fact that his lifting records were still intact. Dirk thought the publisher might reconsider if those records were broken, and Dirk had already planned to spend his royalties on a new pool for the backyard.

"Well," offered Dirk as he thought about the saying of 'keeping your friends close but your enemies closer,' "As a champion bodybuilder and powerlifter, perhaps I could coach you for the next few weeks to have you in tiptop shape?"

Garth looked over Dirk – he was older, but there was no denying the man was pretty well built. He was about 6’2” and probably weighed 230 to 240 pounds – not as much as Garth at 280 pounds, but still very sizable. Dirk was wearing a blue polo shirt that showed off his muscular torso, and a pair of gray slacks that were so tight it was easy to see his massive quads.

“Really? You would help me out?” asked Garth.

Dirk’s frown was replaced with a smile. “Of course! I’m always happy to share what I’ve learned about strength and fitness. I can make sure that everyone is *shocked* by how much you lift at the event.” That last part was true – Garth’s friends were going to be surprised, but rather by the fact that none of the records would be broken.

The older man then introduced himself and invited his new protegee into the house to discuss a program, making sure that Garth got an eyeful of all the trophies Dirk had entered over the years. “Wow, how many contests have you won?” asked Garth as he ogled the case in the living room.

“Quite a few – I won the Mr. Hunk contest 5 years in a row starting when I was a sophomore in college, and the World’s Strongest Hunk in my weight class when I was a junior. They used to call me Mr. University – sort of like the college version of Mr. Universe. Get it? Anyway, so listen, here’s what I’m thinking for you, Garth. We will start you on a program…”

Dirk laid out the details that he hoped would sap Garth's strength: the college student would immediately go on a reduced diet and no lifting for the next few weeks, and then shock his muscles with a potent cocktail on the night before the contest. Dirk lied and told Garth the formula would consist of special proteins and vitamins, and since his body would be desperate for fuel, the supplements would immediately be converted into energy as he slept, allowing him to make explosive lifts the next morning. Dirk then played on Garth’s ego, telling him he wouldn’t be surprised if he could bench 700 or 800 at the lift-a-thon if he followed all of Dirk’s program.

Garth wasn’t sure, but two things convinced him: 1) Dirk explained it was how he had won every lifting competition he’d ever entered, and 2) the thought of benching 700 or 800 pounds was too much to resist. Garth’s only goal was to get bigger and stronger, and he wanted to blow everyone away on the stage. So for the next two weeks, Garth did exactly as instructed: he survived on a reduced diet and no lifting. He only ate carrot sticks and celery stalks, and though he was starving all the time, he knew it would all be worth it when he set the new records.

But in addition to the hunger, his energy levels completely flagged. Garth had trouble staying awake in class, and he only wanted to sleep when he was home. He told his parents he was fine and was just resting up for his the lift-a-thon.

Finally, the last day before the event arrived. Garth didn't need to go to school since he had finished all of his finals, so he just stayed in bed and watched TV most of the day, only getting up to eat some more carrots and celery. At 4:00pm, he got ready to go to see Dirk for his protein and vitamin cocktail which he thought was going to boost his strength and power to new heights.

"And just in time," he thought. "I'm wasting away."

Garth looked at himself in his bathroom mirror – he was still a hunk, but he had lost a good deal of muscle in the past 10 days. He flexed his biceps, and though large and meaty, they didn't rise as high as they used to. When he put on his shirt, his chest and arms also didn't stretch it out like they had done in the past. "I feel so puny now, but it'll all be worth it when I set those records tomorrow."

After he finished dressing, he got in his car and drove to Dirk's house – he would have walked, but he didn’t think he could make it in his weakened condition. He ambled up to the porch and rang the bell, and a few seconds later, his new mentor opened the door and let him in.

"Hey, stud, how goes it? Have you been following the diet?" asked Dirk. He could see that the big buff stud had definitely lost some size.

Garth nodded. "Yeah, I can't wait until I get the power boost, though. I hate feeling so weak and tired."

"No worries, I got it right here for you. By this time tomorrow, you'll be stronger than ever as these proteins and vitamins will hit your system like a Mack truck. That is, as long as you follow the one condition."

"What's that?" asked Garth, hungry to get his hands on the formula.

"After you drink it, you can't have sex or jack off for at least 24 hours – if you do, the formula will stop working and you'll be back to where you are now. You can do that, right?"

Garth hesitated for a moment – as a well-muscled man in his early 20s with lots of testosterone and a hot boyfriend, he usually didn't go 24 minutes without an ejaculation, let alone 24 hours. "It'll be tough, but I can do it, Dirk."

Dirk smiled. The "formula" he had concocted was really just ginseng and Viagra, so he knew Garth would never make it – in a few hours he would have a raging erection and it would be impossible for him not to jack off. As a result, Garth would only blame himself for not setting the lifting records, and Dirk would be in the clear. He handed the flask over to Garth, who drank it down quickly.

Because he hadn't eaten much, Garth immediately felt the results of the ginseng in his system. "I can feel it working. My hands are shaking."

"Yeah, that's the secret proteins coursing through your veins. Trust me, tomorrow you are going to be like Hercules!" said Dirk.

The men shook hands and Garth left for home. He wanted to get a good night's sleep so he was well-rested for the lift-a-thon the next day, but already he was getting super horny. His cock began to get hard as he daydreamed about setting all the lifting records and everyone amazed by his superhuman feats of strength, so he tried to distract himself by thinking about other things.