Chris was nearly five hundred pounds, comprised of off-season muscle with a generous layer of fat on top. His trainer had pushed him for eight years, building him bigger and bigger, until he reached his current, massive proportions. He heaved himself up out of the chair, and strutted toward a mirror. He lifted his bulky arms and flexed, watching his powerful biceps rise under the fat, pushing it up. He was strong, he knew that; his trainer had him lifting huge amounts of weight. But all this fat...
"Jeanie," he said at last.
"Yes, master?" she replied with a smile.
"Jeanie, I wish for the trainer to come back. But this time, I want him to help me get nice and lean, like a bodybuilder."
Jeanie's eyes widened with surprise, but she nodded and smiled. The world seemed to spin, and then Chris found himself back in his amazing basement gym. He was wearing workout clothes once more, and the trainer stepped out of the shadows. The man was huge, but not quite Chris' size. But he was cut, every muscle displayed under the skin, hardly any fat at all to hide them.
"I want to be lean and ripped, like you," Chris explained.
"The diet will make you lose some size," the trainer warned in response.
Chris thought for a moment. "You're a great trainer though. You should be able to get me lean but keep my muscle, right? Maybe even grow a bit more?" Chris grinned.
The trainer grinned back, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes. "Of course," he answered, as the door to the basement vanished.
Chris spent the next two years in the basement gym, much like the eight he had already spent. But his diet was not so rich now, and there was cardio aplenty, not to mention a dizzying array of supplements. There were still periods where his trainer would force him to lift heavy and stuff him with protein shakes after, but those times were interspersed with longer periods of cutting, where the fat would slowly melt off of Chris' body. The trainer was an utter sadist, always pushing Chris hard, never letting him slack off. Chris accepted it now, knew the results would be spectacular. But for the trainer, this acceptance was just something to exploit, to push his trainee even more.
When the two years were finally up, the door reappeared. He paused at the scale again, stepping on it. 425. His bodyfat was down to only 4% he knew, as he had been measured regularly. But 425 meant he had put on muscle as well, just as the trainer had promised. Chris was massive, but his muscles were totally ripped, bloated and powerful, striations and veins on full display.
"Come back when you want to train some more," the sinister trainer called out, chuckling as Chris walked up the stairs.
Jeanie was upstairs waiting. "Did you enjoy your afternoon, master?" she asked.
"Afternoon? You mean it wasn't a day?"
Jeanie giggled. "If eight years is a day, then two years is only six hours, master!"
Chris nodded in response, and strutted over to the mirror, his powerful thighs rubbing against each other. He was magnificent. Arguably the biggest bodybuilder on Earth, certainly the biggest one with such low bodyfat. He grinned at his reflection, going from pose to pose, admiring his powerful physique's reflection. His arms weren't quite as big as when he'd been fatter, but it was clear that the muscle was bigger now, and his leanness meant that his muscular development was on full display.
"I've got to take this bod for a spin," he chuckled under his breath.