Bottoming Out

Chapter 1
Chapter One

“That’s it, that’s it Peter!” Brent shouted. “Push it! Push it through! All you! All you! All you!”

“RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!”

With a mighty roar Peter thrust the titanic barbell into the air for the tenth and final time, guiding it onto his stand as his face turned crimson and contorted with the sheer exertion of his efforts. Once it was secured into place he exhaled, sat up, and looked at Brent with a satisfied smirk.

“Four hundred even.” He bragged, still breathing heavy. “That’s a personal best - and I know it’s more than you’ve ever lifted with your scrawny little arms.”

Brent rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Don’t get cocky just ?cause you had one good set.” He grinned. “I’m gonna blow that away before you know it, you geezer.”

“Geezer, huh?” Peter playfully jabbed at Brent’s stomach. “Well, this geezer just kicked your ass, junior. Show your elders a little respect.”

They continued to laugh and poke at one another, oblivious to the sideways glances and outright scowls that were being sent their way. Ever since they met earlier in the year - gravitating towards one another as the strongest men in the facility - Peter and Brent had become the bane of the other gym goers, their already-grating personalities only amplified by each other’s presence. And when it came to working out they were inseparable, always meeting up at the same time every day in order to shout manly things at one another and fill the room with grunting and boisterous laughter. If that weren’t enough both men had a nasty habit of deriding their fellow gym goers, making clumsy passes at the women and mocking the men for what they felt were insultingly inferior physiques.

To be sure, both Brent and Peter possessed impressive bodies. Both stood over six feet tall - Brent being just a shade taller, a fact he rubbed in Peter’s face whenever possible - providing them with appropriate foundations for bodies they had sculpted and formed and tanned into the glorious towers of muscle they now possessed. They had reason to be proud - particularly Peter, whose physique was even more astounding given that he was now thirty-one and out of what most men consider their prime. When one combined that with his jet-black hair, mischievous cerulean eyes and chiseled jaw line it was no wonder that women gravitated to him - and even though he currently had a live-in girlfriend that didn’t stop him from indulging in a harmless little side session every now and then. Peter rationalized that it was more than fair - after all, when he and Rebecca had gotten together she didn’t tell him that she had kids from a previous relationship. Then one day she announced that she had won custody and that the little brats were moving in. Peter had no aspirations of parenthood and things were only made more difficult by the fact that her kids were two young boys - aged twelve and eight - who misbehaved out of a grudge held towards him for not being their “real dad”. Not that he couldn’t deal with their backtalk - when one or the other got out of line Peter had no trouble putting them over his knee and showing them who the man was around the house. The situation at home, combined with his humdrum job as an assistant manager as a grocery store, had Peter looking for an escape wherever he could find it - and weightlifting did the trick very nicely.

Brent, meanwhile, seemingly had everything going for him. By merit of his ruthless aggression and seemingly limitless ambition the man had, at the young age of twenty-five, landed the position of sales managed for a major hotel chain. Much like Peter, he too had been gifted with striking features - his golden blond hair and glinting emerald eyes chief among them. They had served him well - both with charming clients and co-workers and with the opposite sex. Though he considered his career his life and felt that relationships were a waste of time that didn’t prevent him from partaking in the occasional one night stand. With one of his company’s hotels just across the street from the gym, finding a partner for the evening was a matter as simple as changing into a shirt and slacks and picking out the most attractive woman at the lobby bar so he could take her up to his complimentary suite. Whereas Peter hit the weights in an attempt to escape from his life, Brent did so out of a near-insatiable desire to prove himself better than his peers - and what better way to do so than by making his body visibly superior?

“Hey.” Peter tapped Brent on the shoulder and pointed towards the corner of the gym. “Check it out. Albert’s back.”

Grins crept across both men’s faces. Albert was a lanky research student from the nearby college and a favorite target of their degradation. They exchanged glances, nodded, and advanced on him. Within moments they were looming over Albert, hands on their hips, identical smirks on their faces. Albert looked up, adjusted his glasses, and smiled.

“Hiya, fellas.” He said. “What’s up?”

“Uh...” Peter furrowed his brow at the unexpected friendliness. Usually he cowered at the sight of them. “Not much.”

“I’m happy to see you guys. I’ve got something for you.” Albert’s actions took on a conspiratorial nature as he reached into his bag and pulled out a small prescription bottle. “This stuff is being kept under lock and key but I managed to sneak a little out for you guys to try.”

“What is it?” Brent asked.

“Only the most powerful nutritional supplement known to man!” Albert declared, as though he were a carnival barker. “It’s what I’ve been working on at the lab recently. We just finished testing this week and the product is going to launch later this year - figured I could give you guys a little sneak preview so you can get a head start on everyone else.”

Peter and Brent looked at one another and shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.” Brent said. “Gimme one.”

“Better gimme two.” Peter chimed in. “Us old guys need to take any advantage we can get.”

Albert placed a pill in Brent’s palm and two in Peter’s, grinning from ear to ear as they each took a swig of water and downed their gifts. He stood from the weight bench and smiled at his new pals.

“Sorry I can’t stick around, guys.” He said. “I’ll see you both soon. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, okay Albert.” Peter said, managing a smile. “See you later.”

“See you.” Brent echoed. He looked at Peter. “Maybe he’s not such a scrawny little nerd after all.”

Peter pondered this for a second.

“Nah, he is.” He laughed and slapped Brent on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get back to our workouts.”

---

Peter headed home after he and Brent had finished their programs and parted ways. When he walked in his front door his girlfriend’s sons were sitting on the carpet, deeply engaged in a video game. Neither looked up when he entered - but they certainly took notice when he plopped on the couch, grabbed the remote and immediately flipped the TV to a baseball game already in progress. The boys gasped and turned to him with panicked looks.

“Turn it back!” The older one, Brian, demanded. “We were in the middle of a boss fight!”

“We were gonna beat it for the first time!” His little brother Joey whined.

“You’ve had all afternoon to play.” Peter muttered. “And it’s my TV anyway. Go hook up the system somewhere else.”

“Peter, just let them finish whatever they’re in the middle of.” Rebecca called from the other room. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“Jeez. Fine.” Peter grumbled. He flipped it back to the video game but it was too late - the heroes had already been vanquished with the demon lord howling in laughter above their mangled corpses.

“There.” Peter said, shooting a little smirk the boys’ way. “Problem solved.”

With that he switched back to the baseball game and sank into the couch. The boys glared at him for a moment with the vilest stares they could manage before storming out of the den and into their bedroom. As Rebecca entered the living room she sighed and put her hands on her hips.

“Peter, I know they don’t make it easy...” She began, “But could you at least try to get along with the boys? I think they’d really like you if you were to just put in a little effort.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Peter countered, keeping his eyes glued to the television. “Brian’s going to be a teenager soon so he’ll resent me no matter what - and Joey just does whatever Brian does. I could be Bill fucking Cosby and those brats would still hate me.”

“Don’t call my kids brats.” Rebecca said, her voice sharp. Brian looked at her and offered an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He said. “Say, while you’re up, could you get me a beer?”

Rebecca slouched in annoyance but did as she was asked, fetching him a longneck and then leaving him alone to watch the game in peace.

---

Meanwhile, Brent had taken the short walk across the street to the hotel and was currently sitting at its lavish oak bar, sipping a cranberry juice as he surveyed his prey. Since it was a weeknight the pickings were likely to be slim - but he had found gems in these situations before and was determined to do so again. His search came to an end when he saw a woman sunk into a leather loveseat in the corner of the room, a bored look on her face as she twirled a cosmopolitan in her hand. She was young, elegant, beautiful - and judging by the tipsy swaying of her body, more than a little drunk. Brent grinned to himself. Jackpot.

Sunlight pierced Brent’s eyelids. He groaned and rolled over, trying his best to return to the slumber he had been so suddenly dragged out of. A moment passed before he sat bolt upright in bed and looked at the clock. 9:17.

“Shit!” He snapped. In the excitement of the previous evening he had forgotten to set his alarm clock - he should have been at the office twenty minutes ago. Brent leaped out of bed and plucked his clothing off of the floor, muttering to himself as he did so.

“Mmm...”

Brent stopped and cringed. Damn, he thought. I was hoping that she’d be out for at least a little while longer. I don’t have time for this. Still, as he turned towards the woman he had spent the night with he managed a smile, fighting back the desire to rush her ass out of the room as he watched her squirm under the bed sheets and offer him a sleepy grin.

“Good morning.” She slurred. “Last night was wonderful.”

“It was pretty great for me too.” Brent said as he returned to picking up his clothes. “But, ah, I’m running late for work, so I’m sorry but I’ve gotta get going.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” The woman coaxed as she sat up. “I’m sure you can find enough time for a second - ”

She suddenly stopped. Brent turned to see her examining him closely, blinking every so often as though in disbelief of what she was seeing. After a moment she rubbed her eyes and let out a little laugh.

“God.” She muttered. “I must have been really drunk.”

Brent bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, sweetie.” She said as she rose naked from the bed. “It’s just that I don’t normally sleep with kids.”

Brent bristled at the insult and opened his mouth to deliver a barb of his own - but was struck stone still by the sight of the woman’s slender back and pert, full buttocks appearing as she stood. A shudder passed through him and he dimly realized that he had grown erect. The man blushed and put a hand to his forehead. The fuck was that? You’d think I’d never seen a naked woman before. He was so preoccupied by his reaction that he didn’t even notice the woman until she was standing right in front of him, looking Brent over with alluring eyes through tousled curls. Her breasts were nearly spilling out of the front of her dress and Brent found that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t take his eyes away from her cleavage. He swallowed and shivered as she drew close and kissed him on the cheek, giggling a bit as she drew away and saw the pronounced outline in his boxers.

“Give me a call in a few years, cutie.”

As she strode out the door Brent found himself compelled to watch her go, as though stuck in a trance that was only broken when the door closed behind her. The moment stayed with him for a second before he shook it off and threw on the rest of his clothes.

“Crazy bitch.” He muttered to himself as he strode out the door. “Probably still drunk.”

When he reached the office Brent couldn’t help but feel the eyes of his co-workers on him, watching his every movement as he strode through the field of cubicles on the way to his office - and every eye seemed accompanied by a hushed little whisper, some murmured slight, as though everyone in the office knew something he didn’t. He felt distinctly uncomfortable, as though his shoes were too big for his feet. Brent couldn’t make any sense of it - in this office he was the top dog and everyone knew it. But today? He might as well have been a kid on his first day of high school for the feelings of humiliation and inadequacy that swirled around him.

Still, Brent attributed it to anxiety over being late, and he did feel a little better when he realized that his boss wasn’t in the office yet either. But as the morning wore on the feelings began to bubble up inside of him once more, growing more and more powerful with every unsuccessful sales call. Clients he had been working with for years were turning him down flat, and it seemed as though he couldn’t get through a single pitch without stumbling over his words or having the phone slip through his sweaty palms. After his fourth failure in a row Brent slammed the receiver into the cradle, fell back in his chair and began massaging his temples.

“God damn it.” Brent muttered. After a moment he leaned forward and pushed the call button on his intercom. “Chris, get in here!”

A moment after being summoned his assistant entered the office. Brent looked up with barely-disguised disgust. Though he was the most capable assistant he’d ever had it irritated Brent to no end to have to spend so much time with such a fatass. Brent had considered firing him several times and replacing him with a slim little twenty-something with great breasts and a tight ass, but knew that if he did so the fat jokes he had made at Chris’ expense would probably come to back to bite him in the form of a harassment lawsuit.

“Yes, Mr. DeLuca.” Chris presented himself, professional as always. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m going to take lunch at my desk.” He grumbled. “Order me a skinless chicken breast, carrots, a side of rice and a bottle of spring water.”

“Certainly, sir.” Chris hesitated. “Sir, if you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t look very good.”

Brent snorted. “Yeah, well, thanks for your sympathy. I’ll be fine.”

“Due respect, sir, but I think you should see a doctor.” The assistant pressed. “It almost looks as though you’ve lost some mass - perhaps you have some sort of muscle-weakening illness.”

Brent’s eyes sharpened as he stared daggers in Christopher’s direction.

“Listen to me, you walking ball of blubber.” He hissed. “I’ve forgotten more about muscles than you will ever know. So don’t you try and tell me what’s wrong with my body, got it?!”

Christopher winced but kept quiet. All he did was bow slightly and stride out of the room to fulfill his boss’ request, temporarily placing his job over his pride. But his words hung in the air even after he had left and Brent found himself going over the morning’s strange events again and again in his mind. After a moment he glanced down at his arm - and his heart skipped a beat at seeing that Chris wasn’t completely off base. His shirts were all custom-tailored to show off the muscles rippling beneath - and there was clearly a good bit of room in the sleeves in the one he was wearing now. The fat fuck might be on to something, he grimly thought. Slowly he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small vanity mirror that he used to check his appearance before meetings. His movements slowed by a fear he didn’t quite comprehend, Brent purposefully lifted the mirror and brought it to his face...to see a college freshman staring back at him. He cried out in surprise and dropped the mirror, shrinking back into his chair as the crack of breaking glass reverberated through the office.

Brent pressed back into the leather, eyes wide, trying to make sense of what he had just seen. He could confirm what felt like the slow loss of his sanity by simply stepping into the adjoining bathroom - but the fear that had seemed such a mystery a moment ago now had him completely in its clutches, keeping Brent frozen in his chair as his body trembled and covered his skin with a sheen of cold sweat. Hours seemed to pass before he could force himself to his feet and over to the dark bathroom. Once inside, he stared at the mirror, took a deep breath, and flicked on the light. The frightened young man he saw in the vanity appeared once again. A low moan escaped Brent’s lips as he staggered backwards and fell against the wall behind him. It was a long time before he could even calm himself down to analyze what he was looking at. The boy in the mirror looked to be seventeen, eighteen tops, whose body was completely devoid of the sheer power he had dedicated his life to attaining. Brent pulled the sleeve of his shirt back and went cold when he saw that not only had nearly all of the muscle vanished but that little pockets of fat now swung from his forearms with every little movement.

Before he could examine himself further - and at this point, Brent wasn’t even sure he wanted to do so - the phone rang back in his office. Tearing his eyes away from the boy in the mirror, he staggered back towards his desk, collapsed into the chair, and picked up the phone.

“H-Hello?” He stammered. His eyes widened at the voice coming over the line. “Peter! Fuck man, am I glad it’s you. Listen...”

 

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