Big Boss Boost

Patreon-exclusive

Brett walked into the lunch area with his clipboard and a pen in hand, towering over everyone around him like a behemoth in flannel and denim. At 6’10”, he was a 34-year-old colossus among men, a professional contractor known for his expertise and his imposing presence. His body was monumental, almost surreal, with muscle packed on muscle, each massive muscle group swollen with power. He walked with such confidence that everybody turned their heads his way, men and women gasping when he passed by, unable to ignore him.

Brett was enormous from head to toe. His traps rose high, accentuating his thick neck. His shoulders were broad enough to force him to enter slightly sideways into a room, his rounded deltoids unable to fit through door frames. His biceps and triceps dangerously strained against the fabric of his shirt, forming rounded, mountainous peaks. His thick forearms were crisscrossed with veins, hinting at the raw strength beneath his skin. His arms were so massively muscular that they resembled regular people’s legs instead of arms.

Brett’s entire body was beyond impressive, but his chest was the real spectacle. His pecs were like two thick slabs of granite, bulging forward almost two feet in front of him, pressing against his shirt and giving it a taut stretch that threatened to rip with every breath. The flannel fabric pulled tight across his torso, almost painted on by the sheer bulk of his pecs, and the buttons struggled to keep everything contained. His nipples were clearly visible beneath the fabric, the sight making some of the construction workers drool. His midsection was equally impressive—thick and rounded with a visible shadow of abs pressing beneath his shirt. 

Brett’s hips were wide and sturdy, leading into massive thighs tightly brushing against each other, barely contained by his pants. Each of his legs could’ve been mistaken for tree trunks, and his denim pants clung to them so tightly that everybody could see every flex and shift of his quads. His calves bulged out thickly, defined from years of hauling and labor at several construction sites in town. His ass was immense, filling out his jeans in a way that left no room for extra movement. The seams at the back of his pants were always dangerously close to tearing due to his bowling ball-sized ass cheeks.

Every muscle seemed to move hypnotically, a symphony of strength and power under his clothes as he walked. Even the bulge at the front of his jeans was impossible to ignore, pressing against the denim and adding to the overall impression of physical dominance. The outline of a foot-long and thicker-than-soda-can soft cock was visible, as was the outline of his baseball-sized balls. Every worker around him couldn’t help but stare, drawn to the sheer power Brett embodied.

As he reached the center of the lunch area, Brett cleared his throat, and everyone gathered around him in a respectful, somewhat awestruck silence. The team looked up at him with admiration and lust, knowing what was coming. They could already tell he was ready to provide feedback, and that only meant one thing: rewards. The workers tried their best to focus on his words. But their gazes inevitably drifted to his chest, where each rise and fall of his pecs created an almost hypnotic rhythm.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Brett announced, his deep voice booming in the room. He adjusted his clipboard, and the muscles in his forearms flexed as he turned to the first team: the Foundation and Groundwork Team, a group of six solid, burly guys. Each man was built like a tank, with arms thick from digging and hauling, backs broad from hours spent moving heavy equipment, and forearms that looked like they could bend steel. But even among them, Jake, the foreman, stood out—a mountain of muscle who gave Brett a respectful nod. Jake was by far the biggest of the team, almost standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Brett at 6’6”. His muscles were huge under any standard, but he still looked small beside the big boss.

“Foundation and Groundwork Team,” Brett began, his biceps subtly flexing as he tapped his notes, “you’ve done a solid job with the trenching and rebar placement. Everything looks firm, and I can tell you guys know how to make things stick. But I’ve got a note here on the grading.” He paused, eyes fixed on Jake. “Some spots could lead to drainage issues down the road. However, Jake, you handled this right away and took the initiative to reinforce those weak spots,” he added as Jake’s face broke into a grin, and his teammates clapped him on the back.

Brett chuckled and continued. “That attentiveness on the west side was impressive, and your plan to address the slope issue was what we needed. You get a 10 out of 10, Jake, for jumping in and keeping quality on point. Team, you all pulled through as well. That’s a 9.5 out of 10.” The team erupted into cheers and approving nods, pleased with their score. They exchanged glances, clearly proud of the praise, and Jake’s chest puffed with pride.

Next, Brett looked at the framing team, who stepped forward. This team consisted of five leaner men, each with the build of someone more used to paying attention to tiny details rather than heavy work. Their arms weren’t as massive as the foundation team’s, but they had a certain thickness and definition that suited their craft.

Brett nodded, a faint grin breaking through. “Framing Team, you kept the east wing sturdy, and the measurements were spot on,” he said. “But the southern side—those joists are a little out of line,” Brett said, looking at Sam, the team leader. “Sam, you did great by calling for extra reinforcement on the corner posts. Smart move. That brings you to an 8.5 out of 10. Team, 7.5 out of 10. Good work, but let’s get those joists lined up tight,” he concluded. Sam’s face showed satisfaction with the feedback, and the rest of his team nodded, taking in the advice. They knew the slight adjustments were fixable, and Brett’s words and the coming reward motivated them to improve.

Then came the electrical team. Four guys stood before Brett, including Artie, the youngest on the construction site and the only one who even remotely rivaled Brett’s size, except for the impressive height. Artie was a gentle muscle monster, large and imposing. However, his bulk was leaner than Brett’s. His biceps and chest were visibly huge under his shirt, and he had grinned with natural confidence as they heard Brett’s note.

“You guys kept everything organized—conduits are neat, and you planned for future access,” Brett noted, giving Artie an approving look. “But there were some clearances missed here and there. Artie, you took extra care on that breaker box, keeping things organized, labeled, and safe. A solid 10 out of 10 for you.” Artie’s grin was broad, and he exchanged a few fist bumps with his team. “Team, you’re close to perfection too. That’s a 9.5 out of 10.”

The plumbing team was next, five more hard-working guys, each with solid builds, though not as massive as the groundwork team. Frank, their lead, had bigger muscles than the rest of his team from years on the job. Brett gave them a nod as he read the notes, slightly furrowing his brows.

“Plumbing Team, you tackled the basement well, but we’ve got a loose joint and some vent placements to double-check. Frank, nice work on addressing that loose joint before it became a bigger problem,” Brett said, nodding at Frank, who straightened with pride. “You get a 7.5 out of 10, and the team pulls a 7. You had the highest score yesterday, so you’re still great; pay more attention to details tomorrow,” he added, and the team nodded.

Finally, the Masonry and Exterior Team stood before Brett, four men with thick biceps, triceps, and forearms from handling heavy bricks and mortar. Brett gave them an approving nod, focusing on Joe, the lead mason, whose meticulous work on the west wall had not gone unnoticed.

“Solid job with the brickwork, especially on the west side, Joe. That wall looks clean, and the mortar work is top-notch. Minor inconsistencies on the northern wall held you back a bit. However, I can see the dedication to quality,” Brett said, and Joe smiled, nodding at the praise. “Joe, you’ve earned a 9 out of 10. Team, 8.5. Keep up that precision.”

Brett set his clipboard aside once his notes concluded. He could feel every eye still on him, watching his massive form as he finally smiled. “You all did great. Everything’s on schedule, and the errors are easily fixable. You guys are lucky to have a boss like me who knows the importance of keeping you all happy and strong,” Brett said, laughing and making his pecs bounce. The construction workers chuckled, unable to blink or look anywhere else but Brett’s massive chest.

Brett grinned as he loosened the first button of his shirt, glancing around at his team. “You all have been working like champions, and champions deserve their prizes, their rewards,” he said with a wink. His large hands moved slowly to each button, taking his time. Each time he freed one button, his pecs pushed out further, and the fabric around his chest seemed to strain a little more, pulling taut as if every button was reluctant to let go of the sheer mass beneath. The workers around him watched, their eyes locked on Brett’s impressive frame as he unbuttoned with a playful air, chuckling at their reactions.

“You all know I believe in keeping my crew well-fed,” Brett continued, his deep voice carrying easily over the group as he popped open another button, revealing more of his chest. “And you’re the best team in the city, hands down. And I know it’s because I know how to keep you motivated. Since I have an endless supply of the best boost for big men like you, keep up the great work, and you’ll keep receiving your daily rewards.”

With one final flourish, Brett finished with the last button, but pulling the shirt off wasn’t easy—his massive arms and broad back created some resistance as the fabric caught on his thick shoulders and bulging biceps. He had to roll one shoulder back, then the other, flexing as he went, making his muscles even more pronounced. The workers exchanged glances, clearly enjoying the playful, almost showmanlike approach that their boss was taking. Brett laughed as he struggled slightly to free his arms, his pecs bouncing and shifting as he moved until the shirt finally slid off his arms. Underneath, a tight white tank top that hugged him like a second skin barely covered Brett’s torso.

Brett grinned, standing proudly, towering over everyone, and enjoying the looks of admiration he got from his team. They had been doing this daily during lunch for a while, but his team couldn’t help but stare as it was the first time. Brett’s massive, muscle-packed frame looked even more imposing without the flannel shirt containing it. His shoulders looked even broader, and every slight movement showed the thick cords of muscle running down his deltoids and traps. His biceps and triceps looked enormous, beautifully bulging, and connected to thick forearms with veins prominent and pulsing slightly with each shift. His arms could rest at his sides due to his massive lats pushing them higher. Even in this relaxed state, Brett’s upper body looked pumped and stacked with muscles beyond human proportions.

The snug white tank top stretched taut over his chest, only managing to cover the center line of his massive pecs and leaving most of them exposed. Each bulging pec was a broad and thick slab of sculpted muscles, with his skin pulling tight across the heavy expanse. His large, engorged nipples looked magnificent and inviting, the perfect touch for such a broad and thick chest, adding hotness to the almost theatrical scene. His abdomen was partially covered, but even so, there was a gap between the hem of his tank and the waistband of his jeans, where his solid gut peeked out. Every curve, every ridge of muscle seemed to draw every eye to him.

Brett let his hands drift to his abdomen, giving it a playful caress. “A good team deserves a good reward. You’ve earned this, so let’s make sure everyone gets what they worked for. You know the drill; bring the bottles,” he said as his large hands moved up to his pecs, fingers splayed across the surface, his thumbs pressing into the dense muscle. Slowly, he massaged each side, and the workers couldn’t take their eyes off him as he ran his palms over the taut skin of his chest. His smile broadened when he noticed their complete attention as they formed in two lines before him.

“Alright, boys,” he said, eyeing the men forming in lines before him. Twenty-two of the twenty-four construction workers waited for their turns in line. Artie and Jake stood nearby, knowing they had to wait a little longer. “Let’s get you all well fed,” he nodded to the workers with the lower scores who were the first in line, signaling them to bring their bottles forward.

The first two workers approached, eagerly holding out their one-liter bottles, their faces showing excitement and desperate need. Brett positioned himself just right, lowering his chest to their level and leaning in slightly. As he massaged around his nipples, applying pressure and pinching them, a strong flow of milk began to flow from his large nipples, streaming perfectly into each bottle. Brett groaned as he kept his hands working around the muscle, applying steady pressure, and soon each bottle was filling.

The first two workers who had scored 7/10 received 700 ml of milk each, watching the bottles fill up to the right mark with wide eyes. Brett winked as he saw their lustful expressions. “That’s what you get for solid work,” he said, grinning and patting the worker’s shoulders. “But remember, push a little harder, and you’ll get the whole liter or more tomorrow.”

The next few waiting in line were those with slightly higher scores and came forward in pairs. Brett continued with the same playful energy, each bottle filling just the right amount as he kept his rhythm, massaging and pressing his pecs. Those who scored 8/10 received exactly 800 ml each. Those who discord 9/10 received 900 ml each, their bottles filling almost to the brim as Brett pumped each pec with playful enthusiasm. His pecs remained as full and firm as ever, seemingly unaffected by the amount of milk he poured into the bottles. The workers couldn’t help but share glances of amazement as they watched him continue, bottle after bottle, without missing a beat.

“Look at that,” Brett said with a chuckle, nodding toward his chest as he filled another pair of bottles. “Still plenty left. Maybe it’s time to upgrade those bottles to 2-liter ones and give you scores based on 20. But we’ll discuss that later,” he said, and the worker’s eyes lit up excitedly. Each man on the team tried their hardest to act cool and hide their thirst for Brett’s milk, but the more they drank, the more addicted to it they got, and the more they loved the effects it had on their bodies.

As the final pair with high marks finished, Brett glanced over at Jake and Artie, who stood waiting eagerly, the pride of the day’s scores shining in their eyes. Brett grinned, gesturing for them to come forward. “Alright, you two. Since you’ve earned perfect scores, you know the drill. You earned the full experience. No bottles are needed. You get to drink straight from the tap and as much as you want.”

Jake and Artie stepped forward, and Brett leaned down slightly, giving them direct access to his massive nipples. With a proud, playful glint in his eye, he placed a hand on each shoulder, guiding them to drink straight from his nipples. As they locked their lips around his nipples and started sucking, Brett kept up the slow, firm massage on his chest, feeling the strong and steady flow continue without pause.

The other workers watched in awe as Jake and Artie drank deeply, their hands joining Brett’s over the surface of his pecs to apply gentle pressure on them. Jake and Artie couldn’t help but groan as they continued swallowing; Brett’s pecs still filled beyond capacity, able to provide milk endlessly. He closed his eyes, enjoying the fantastic sensation caused by his workers drawing mouthfuls of milk out of his plump pecs each second. He adjusted his stance, feeling his cock stirring and straining his pants.

Then, as they sucked, their arms started growing noticeably tighter around the sleeves of their shirts, their shoulders swelling and stretching the seams as they continued. Brett couldn’t help but smile, watching his two top workers benefit from their reward in such a direct way. Both men felt their torsos widen, their backs stretching the fabric, while the buttons on their work shirts looked ready to pop.

Brett grinned as he watched their growth unfold, encouraging them with a warm laugh. “Looks like you two are going to need some bigger uniforms soon,” he joked, patting them on the back as they continued to drink. Their chests began to fill out even more, pressing against the fabric of their shirts, their pecs rounding and growing firm, almost as if they were mirroring Brett’s own muscular physique. Their legs thickened as well, jeans straining as their quads and butt swelled with new strength. This part was what each of the workers loved the most and the reason why they pushed themselves so hard to do a great job. They loved Brett’s milk and what it did to their already muscular bodies.

As Jake and Artie continued drinking from their boss’ pecs, they exchanged knowing glances with each other, their larger frames filling out their work gear to near-breaking point.

“That’s what I call a job well done. Look at these bodies,” Brett said, looking down at the men still sucking on his nipples and then glancing at the rest of the team. “Hard work pays off. You push yourselves and get what you earn—and maybe more. Starting tomorrow, bring your 2-liter bottles, and we’ll upgrade the rewards, and maybe you all will get a little boost of your own if you do a fantastic job,” Brett chuckled, winking at the crew.

The end 

********

PN: This was a random (horny) idea I had while talking with a friend, and I couldn't resist it. I had to write it. I hope you'll enjoy this, and... maybe Brett will hire you to be part of his team. Hehe.