BuffedBeef @buffedbeef - Tumblr Blog

2024.10.10 flexing practice at 95kg

#flex #me #bodybuilder #asian bear #muscle bull #bodybuilding #asian muscle

biglugg

IG @koreanhulk - Caption: “D-day … Diet Begins”

The bulk will be missed, but enjoy the cut, big guy! 💪🏼

sadatsurumaru

褌の日貮零貮陸

biglugg

Clip from one of the wongstetics accounts (I think)

He does several reps, but the shot of his bulk as he lays on the bench was the eye-opener.

#chinese hulk

biglugg

IG @keunwoopark_ - Oxygen tanks are the new hotness. Love it when big bodybuilders huddle and their compressed mass still bulges all over.

biglugg

IG @biglei_1995

biglugg

IG @yeo_dong_mini

Serving up dom vibe in this pose and angle

#me #flex #muscle #asian muscle #asian bodybuilder #asian bear

2026 first most muscular and flexing practice

#me #flex #muscle #asian #asianbear #muscle asian

real-thick

It's here! Muscle Mountain Part 2 with SGT. OX. 🎉 Stream/download on my 🅿️. Don't forget, Part 1 is still waiting for you too! And, because we love a good deal, our Black Friday membership sale is now live until Monday. Perfect excuse to catch-up on those weekly Feature Videos, am I right? 😉

biglugg

IG @mocie1991

biglugg

Patreon @Remerting - The Last Petal

I posted about this before and want to call out again. I’m hoping Remerting provides an update with audio, but the animation is the best I’ve seen when it comes to hulk outs.

Hope he doesn’t mind if I post clips here.

mmmutants

Bigger Elliot

bullvolution

The Mantle

The towel is a lie. A thin strip of cotton trying to civilize something that has already gone far past human.

His back swells outward in shapes that don’t belong on bone, muscle blooming grotesque under skin that shines with a feverish sheen. Not carved, not sculpted — grown, forced outward by milliliters and milliliters of chemicals that whisper louder with every injection. Each fiber twisted, stretched, multiplied beyond its purpose, beyond its design.

This is no physique. This is infestation.

The house is quiet, but if you could lean close enough, you would swear the flesh itself made noise: the faint creak of fibers under tension, the wet pulse of blood straining to service mountains of meat. A body reprogrammed to grow, to expand, to feed itself even when the host cannot keep pace.

He used to measure his doses. Used to follow protocols, careful numbers, safe thresholds. But the voice in the mirror never stopped. More. Now. Again. What started as discipline became ritual, and then hunger, and then surrender.

Now the man is gone. What stands here is the experiment walking, a human frame overtaken by the mass it invited in. The shoulders balloon and sag like tumors. The lats fuse with the arms in slabs so thick the towel cuts into them like wire. His body doesn’t obey anymore — it consumes, it spreads.

And yet… he smiles. Because this was always the end. This was always the dream. To let the chemicals rewrite him until the mirror no longer reflected a man, but the God of Mass in raw, grotesque flesh.

Mass is horror. Mass is worship. Mass is home.