Moo-scle Madness: Rough Draft Part 2 (Patreon)

The clang of metal lands as Brent lifts himself from under the bench press bar, letting out a big huff. His face and body covered in sweat with him wrapping up another day of brutal workout. He tilts his head down or he would if his pectorals, now acting like a shelving unit, didn't impede his movements. Thanks to his rigorous and extremely taxing reps he had inflated his chest line along with his boulderous shoulders and medicine ball sized biceps.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, stretching his neck to the side, feeling those bumped traps press back at his thick neck. “This milk a day shit has totally been working. I feel so much bigger and it's only been a month since I started.” He slammed a paw against his abdomen, offering it vigorous rubs while it had begun to bow outward in the last week.

“I’ll say,” came another gruff voice. A white and black furred canine dropping an obscene amount of weight onto the floorf from his backside. It all attached to another heavy metal rod as it gave out a loud bang the moment it struck the concrete. “Keep it up and you’ll end up looking like me,” he chuckled, patting at his own substaint heavy belly.

“Aw cmon,” replied Brent, throwing a towel at his other muscled pal. “Not you too Siri. I’ve been getting an earful from Sea since I started this whole thing.”

“Oh,” answered the Wakita, as he caught the towel, running it around his face and neck. “What’s he on about?”

The rottie rolled his eyes, letting out an annoying sigh. “Keeps saying I’m overdoing it and not ‘properly’ following the diet.”

“Wel;? Are you?”

Brent eventually rose from the bench, lumbering himself towards a huge stainless steel refrigerator. It’s one of those that could be found at a local frozen food aisle, except it was full of nothing but whole milk with a few spots being taken by heavy cream cartons. He tossed his towel over a shoulder and opened up the door. He let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling the cold chill waft around his figure. Those nipples of his grew hard as diamonds, poking out on either side of his stringer tank, while his body shuddered finally showing some give to the temp.

“That is always a good rush to help wake myself up,” he barked, grabbing one of the heavy cream cartons. “You want any Siri?”

“What the hell,” replied the fluffy canine. “I’ll take a gallon of milk.”

“Why don’t you have some cream with me instead!”

The Wakita tilted his head at the offer. “Cream? As in heavy cream?” He waddled himself over, feeling the burn with those thunderous thighs after his grueling squat routine. When he drew closer, to see that there was more than the milk. “Welp. That answers that. You really aren’t following the diet.”

Brent sniffed at the remark, taking out another carton. “Yeah well. Who needs to follow diets when I’ve got this bod from my own diet even before all this.”

“Hey. Hey,” came the disarming tone of the Wakita, waving his paws. “I’m not complaining. I do think it’s working for ya just fine buddy. Only saying that I see why Sea might be going a bit hard on ya.”

Brent’s charming grin returned, closing the door with his ample rear end. “Damn right! Look at all this,” he barked happily, while he stuttered about the room a bit like a rooster. His ass bounced with each step, coupled by his bounteous pec line and all those extra areas that had slowly started to lose their primed definition. Most notable around his waistline. Where he used to have that typical divot to show where his waist and thighs greeted one another, it had filled out. Not to mention his middle which had taken it’s fair share of gains as those abs pushed outward.

“Catch,” he called out, tossing the carton.

Siri caught in with relative ease, then eyeing it.

“Bottoms up!” Brent already chugging his down, still moving about the floor and pushing at his middle.

The Wakita could only shake his head, opening his own to follow suit.

“You two done down there,” came the questioning voice of Sea.

“Yeah… bwroop… we’re done,” responded the less than dignified rottie, polishing off his rich beverage. “Is food ready?”

An audible sigh could be heard from above the staircase. “Alright and yes it is. Make sure you pace yourself with all that milk though.” With that, he shut the door.

The Wakita looked over at Brent’s backside, taking stock of how much softer it had gotten. No longer could you see the tapered lining of his back muscles or not as they used to be. Sure, he could still see the bulging mass but it reminded him of his own physique where it was more about strength than showmanship.

He worked himself over, planting a paw at his pals side, giving it a firm grab. “Fell that mister big stuff?”

At the sudden and aggressive touch, it alerted the large hunk. “Feel what?”

“This,” he gave another squeeze at the other meaty flank.

When Brent finally noticed it, he let out a welcoming groan, pressing himself into that paw. “Fuck me! I’m putting on some thick!”

Siri chuckled, continuing to prod at his friend's side. “Told ya you were heading my way.”

“No way! Like I told Sea. I’ll be turning all of this into heaps of monster muscle by the time the cutting season hits.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” he sniffed, flexing his chest, making each one bounce and knock against his chin. “These have certainly puffed out though. Feel like I’ve started to have a pair of fucking breast.”

The Wakita let out a jovial laugh. “What better way to get them than through your own private stash of milk.”

The two laughed with one another in friendly merriment but Brent eventually pulled away when the sound of the door opened once more. “Are you two gonna come eat or let it all get cold!?”

“We're coming dude. We're coming,” he turned to Siri. “By the way. Thanks for hitting the grind with me today. Always welcome to pound some weight together.” He slapped at the white furred booty cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze. “If you know what I mean.”

“Why don’t we hit that up after food?”

With that, the two lust fueled canines hurried up the staircase before they got another scolding from the homemaker.