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From a roleplay I'm doing with a friend. There's been a lot more written so keep an eye out for part 2 later on. The series includes, muscle growth, hyper and macro. It was mid afternoon deep in the Arizona desert. Doctor Banner had been out in this isolated lab now for the better part of two years, working out how to make monsters out of men. Improving the military's selection of men and surpassing the limits of human biology. anything to get a leg up on the looming danger of foreign agents. Rumor was they too were working on something similar. He was currently standing in front of a large computer console, adjust a vast multitude of dials and switches, adjusting his math on the fly to accommodate the varying inputs the system was being fed. "Alright... I've regulated the output and the correction algorithm is steady. I hope your math was as good as you say." the beanpole doctor said, his voice a little nervous. He trusted their work, but facing down the emitter itself was a little nerve racking. "Have faith Bruce. You've seen the numbers so there's no reason for doubt. After we succeed in the tests, you and I can finally get out of this place. I'm not taking any more delays just because the military can't decide on who should be their test subject." Although Richard was completely committed to seeing his work finalized, he too couldn't help but feel anxious going through with the final trial. After all, it was Banner's idea to take the test but the experiment was almost too good to be true. Banner might really be the next superhero in the world, but even then, what would that spell out for the rest of the military. "I know, I know. I'm human. Doubt always lingers, even when facts show there is nothing to fear. We see monsters in the shadows at night." Bruce sighed, adjusting his glasses gently on his face. The concept of super human powers was extremely glorious. His brain and the brawn they were artificially creating would be a tremendous force for good, as long as he kept his morals. That's why Richard was around. "Everything is set over here, how're things with the emitter module?" "As good as one can expect. Just step onto the platform and we can get started. I'll give you a minor dose and from there we can witness the results." "Right, base of our simulation resulted... At this dose my shoes should be tighter, but nothing else." he said taking off his glasses and setting them down somewhere safe. He left his lab coat on his chair as he walked over to the patch job platform they made. "Ready!" From the console, Richard turned the dial clockwise to setting 1. An audible hum buzzed above Bruce as the dish-like machine was being fed the appropriate power. After typing away on his keyboard, Richard set his hand onto a large switch mounted to the console. Looking up, both men saw eye to eye in anticipation. "Here we go..." "Alright. Lets play god!" Bruce shouted, giving a final thumbs up as the machines whirred and buzzed around him. Even though the voltage was low, the machine was rather dramatic. The switch was flipped. Visible green distortions in the air could be seen whirling around Banner in an instant. Although the machine was clearly working, the ray of radiation had no bearing on Bruce. Despite being affected, the only thing he could truly feel was a light headed sensation. Bruce winced gently, looking at the green flickers and glittering around his body. He looked at Richard's blur and shrugged. "Doing good." He shrugged gently. A good minute had passed and eventually the switch was flipped again. Richard could see Bruce completely untouched by the event. Although expecting noticeable alterations in Banner's physical appearance, super powers can sometimes be hidden away and thus further examination was necessary. "Well... for all the sound and spark the machine gave off, I feel relatively the same. could you hand me my glasses?" Bruce said, carefully stepping down from the platform. He wandered over to Richard's blur, wondering if he looked any different. "Well Bruce, you don't look any different, but we never really expected that much to change on a physical level." Richard reached out to hand Banner his glasses. "How do you feel?" "To be frank. Light headed and annoyed. I'm concerned we may have to go back to formula." He frowned as he slipped on his glasses. He shifted gently, his clothing felt a little off to him, but perhaps it was the treatment. "We may want to do this nude next time. My shift feels starchy." "Don't be so hasty. You might have gained something after that kind of exposure. We can't risk another dose until we know what's changed. Are you sure there isn't anything about you worth noting?" "Hmmm nothing of notice right now but I see what you're saying, give the treatment time to work." The doctor nodded as he slipped the lab coat back on as well. Bruce picked up a clip board going over the questions, post test. He shuffled a little, feeling a little warmer, but nothing concerning. It was later that day lunch had just past and the sweltering heat of the desert was rising steadily. Bruce was sitting at his desk in the lab, slowly pouring over their calculations, theorems and various documents and tests. By this point in time, he felt that something should have happened, there should have been a change, yet nothing at all. He kept his calm however, this was the first trial on an organic creature they tried. it wasn't a set back. Soon there'd be a swath of overly grown men, charging across battle fields. He grinned at the idea. heck if the test had worked, he would have been one. He felt his cheeks grow warmer as he pictured himself at superhuman sizes. Bruce coughed gently as he got up to answer. He twisted the knob and pulled it open, harder then he expected. "Yes?" He asked. "Sorry to bother, it's just been several hours since the experiment and I wanted to know if you've come to any conclusions yet on the test." "Nothing yet, I apologize." Bruce said to Richard, inviting him into his lab. Bruce found himself adjusting the AC in the lab, lowering the temperature further as he felt even warmer. "Warm today, isn't it?" He began to prepare the coffee machine. "Did you find any breakthroughs?" He said as he shifted his stance a little. Richard gave Bruce a puzzling look. "Nothing to work from I'm afraid. I will say, you have this room freezing cold right now. Are you sure you're okay?" "You find it freezing? I'm feeling really warm" Bruce huffed and sat down at the lab desk once more, stretching himself. "I kind of wish it had work though..." Richard leaned on the desk next to him. "It's hard to say. Maybe genetics are a factor. After all, you're the only one we've tested. I suppose we can try another dose later." Richard looked at Bruce and noticed sweat marks around his work shirt. "If you had these powers, what do you see yourself doing?" "Hard to say, but it would make assembling labs a lot easier." Bruce chuckled, slowly starting to day dream about hoisting large lab machines over head, being built like a tank and just... so big, so colossally huge. He didn't even notice his hand lowering down to his crotch, caressing his cock gently through his pants. "I can't imagine it being wide spread through military interactions. So many men getting that treatment. One can only imagine what life would be like living with such power on a daily basis..." Bruce nodded and chuckled in agreement. "Men the size of giants, walking around, training, maybe it would spread into the general populace," he smirked as he felt his manhood harden in full."God i wish it worked on me." He moaned softly, squeezing the fat head of his manhood. "I don't think it would-" Richard paused after he heard the rustling of Bruce's pants. "Banner what are you doing?!" Bruce was a little lost to his growing lust, slowly working his shaft out of his pants. "Sorry Rick, i just... really need to take care of this." He muttered, almost admiring his decently sized manhood. "Something had happened to you hasn't it! I mean I know it's been a while, secluded and isolated but where's your decency!" Regardless of his outcry, even Richard was impressed how fat Bruce's uncut malehood was. "I'm nowhere near the projected results. I think its just cabin fever..." he grunted, slowly letting Richard admire his manhood. From the few choice veins running along the shaft to his thick, fat glands and the green tint slowly spreading over it. "W-What's happening!?" Richard was in awe as the pinkish skin tone of Bruce's junk was slowly changing to a dark green hue, but it wasn't just Banner's cock that changed, even his skin was gradually shifting to green as he pumped his dick over and over. Bruce huffed and panted working his shaft faster now, the green spreading. His cock was slowly stretching, pulsating, enlarging between his fingers. "Uhhhfff Richard... I think... something's happening." The scientist backed away slowly from Bruce, witnessing the changes overtaking in his body. The masturbatory arm locked into a flex was noticeably bulging inside Bruce's tightening work shirt. His neck filled the collar, veins creeping out as his expression grew more intense. For every push and pull of his growing hand going up and down the enlarging cock, Banner's form only widened, clothes filling with his mass. Banner could feel the changes overtaking him, at this point he welcomed it, flexing and relaxing his masturbating bicep, watching the muscle swell and relax, then swell even larger. He could feel his shoes growing tight around his feet, his shirt struggle to stay clasped. he couldn't help but begin to laugh. His tongue hung out as his belt gave way to his widening hips. Bruce's bellow sounded almost deeper than his regular voice. Richard was still in awe, absolutely paralyzed and yet, overjoyed in some way. "My god Bruce, it actually worked!" Bruce was too far gone to hear what Richard was saying. All he knew was that he felt good, wanted to feel even better. He dropped his cock for a moment, brought both his arms up slowly, and pumped his biceps into twin peaks. Thinking was hard now, his mind addled by the sheer rush of power from his entire body. "Big now. Getting bigger!" Each ball of muscle tore seams across his long sleeve shirt. His hard cock stretched to a foot in length right in front of the flexing behemoth, twitching in wait for his touch. The brute that was Bruce had gained a foot to his frame and even the chair creaking and groaning suggested he had put on a tremendous amount of weight. All of this started just from Banner being hot and bothered and even as he sat there, hands off his meaty cock, his growth slowed to a crawl. Maybe masturbating really did set off a chain reaction. "Bruce, I can't believe I'm saying this but, I need you to... to keep touching yourself." The massive brute huffed and eagerly continued to work his shaft. He didn't need a puny human telling him what to do, but it seemed he enjoyed the show. The green monster couldn't help but flex while he continued to pump his monster cock. "Puny human, like what you see?" Of course Richard liked what he was seeing but did Bruce really not know who he was? "Banner, it's me, Richard. You know who I am right?" Richard said all the while the green behemoth continued fondling his girthy length, his body growing continuously as more rips and seams formed across his clothes. The growing hulk grunted as he opted to stand, his feet bursting through his shoes as he suddenly increased in height, grunting as his muscles expanded in a rapid burst, his shirt tearing and bursting as his muscles expanded further. "Hu-Hulk can't stop! Hulk want morreeeee." Richard fell backwards, staring up at the growing green giant. He stood at eight feet, clad in nothing but loose torn shorts made from his pants, already on the verge of breaking as they held his filling balls. Veins traveled across his hairy physique, sweat dropping like rain as droplets zig-zagged around the curves and crevices of his muscular body. Hulk radiated with such an immense heat, still pumping his loins as he inched closer to the ceiling. "H-Hulk?" Richard could only question the new name of his partner. The green giant roared and flexed, all but tearing the last vestigial remains of his shorts off. His balls dropped with a pleasant bounce, bringing a blush to the huffing brute's face. "What?!" He barked as the man called out his name, he stepped toward him, his muscles moved in tremendous harmony, like semi trucks maneuvering around a parking lot. Hulk grit his teeth and growled. "What human want from Hulk?" Richard had to constantly crane his head back to keep the approaching Hulk in view. He stood uncomfortably close with his foot and a half prick poking against the scientist's chest, smearing pre into his work shirt. Richard continued to gawk up at Hulk, his heat and odor getting to his sensitive senses. Without saying anything, Richard put both of his hands onto the Hulk's shaft, slowly moving his palms back and forth, the deep green foreskin stretching and pulling back. The Hulk snarled growing impatient moments before the human's hands were upon him, slowly working his shaft. The big green man placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. He licked his lips and moaned gently as his shaft was working. "H-hulk feel good. More! Hulk want more!" Sweat formed on Richard's face as both the heat emanating from the Hulk's body combined with the lingering expectations expressed by his oversized partner. Never before would he have imagined himself in this situation, his lab assistant several times bigger, enraptured by sexual acts conducted from both curiosity and fear. Nevertheless, Richard picked up his pace, pressured by the brute's anticipation. The Hulk groaned and placed his free hand on Richard's head, stroking him gently as the man pleased him. The green giant felt a rise in pressure through out his body, drawing several long growls from him as his muscle inflated further, straining his emerald skin as his grip grew stronger on the human's head. Each stroke served to separate the smaller scientist's hands apart from each other as the shaft pushed up and out. He was growing. The stimulus from each masturbatory act only fueled the beast's power. Ever so slightly did the Hulk's shoulders bulge horizontally, chest furl forward, legs thicken in every direction, feet and hands scaling to larger sizes. His head remained almost untouched with the exception of his jawline growing bulkier, his brow shelving and cheek bones more pronounced. His overall appearance was made manlier. The growing brute felt his power increase, his body take up more room, his figure growing more and more imposing. his shoulders grew further apart, granting more space for his muscles to expand into. His musculature bulged under his skin, as deeply striated and detailed as the support cables for a bridge. He smirked down at the human, as he grew smaller and smaller. He felt his balls slowly drop down, swelling as his seed filled them, almost to bursting. Witnessing the scene of his colleague, brutish and virile, growing right before his eyes had ignited even the doctor to sink deeper into his love-making. Eagerly, Richard pressed his lips against the smelly underbelly of the green cock while his hands pushed towards the back side of the stiff tool, lathering the meat with his tongue. The smells, the taste, the increase in flesh and splendor, all of it left the two intoxicated. The growing brute cried out with each wave of growth that radiated out from his massive shaft. the smaller hands, the warm tongue and the sheer physical pleasure of this transformation was growing to be too much for the Hulk. "Hulk gonna... Need to cum!" Suddenly, Richard noticed the Hulk's involuntarily growth had ceased, replaced instead by a shaking sensation that tackled every foot of the green brute. He stepped away slowly, as if anticipating a bomb ready to go off at any moment. Hulk roared and grabbed his massive cock, working it furious as his felt his balls tighten, muscles deep inside him sprung to action as his hips involuntarily thrusting his shaft into the wall, pounding through the concrete until at last, release was granted, his thick seed shot out in pulses as he let out a guttural roar, flexing with all his might. His growth suddenly returned, his head slamming into the ceiling as his body expanded faster now. cords of muscle growing discordantly. He stared at the hand gripping his manhood, watching as his fingers ballooned one by one, his palm widened to match, knuckles popping and rising like mountains. He hissed and snarled as his other hand, curled into a fist grew to match. Hulk... feel HUGE!" he bellowed. Slowly, the orgasm subsided, the giant green man panted and rubbed his head, and slowly looked himself over, admiring his new mass and size. "Human... make Hulk feel grow again." he growled. Richard stood behind him, jaw dropped as he stared on at the miraculous presentation of the Hulk's fuzzy backside. So many muscles were shifting hypnotically from the simplest of movements. Richard's eyes widened in excitement when he looked below to see such an enormous ass, strong yet plump with curly hairs sprinkled between each cheek. Even below that, the Hulk's mighty testicles hung low between his legs, bigger than ever, reaching just below the knees and hairy, like the rest of his frame. The Hulk slowly turned to Richard, his brow furrowed in annoyance, his eyes deep in his skull now, as his brow had expanded tremendously. As he turned, the other scientist would get a clear view of the perfectly sculpted delts, his triceps and striated lats. His bicep slowly swung into view, as large as a car tire. His pecs followed, each globular mass jutted out from his chest like the peaks of a mountain. Across his body grew the gently curled, black hair. His lantern jaw was dusted with a healthy 5 o'clock shadow. Despite the perfect spectacle of throbbing muscles, sweat and hair, the Hulk's presentable turn brought forth an even bigger cock into view, growing flaccid now but thicker and bigger than before. The width could match even his hulking legs that draped in front of his titanic sack. Just how big could Hulk get? Richard could barely even process such a size. "Human no hear Hulk?" He grumbled stomping forward towards the man, cock swinging from side to side leisurely as he walked forward. "Human!" Shaking in fear, all Richard could mutter was "Y-Yes?" The Hulk started to fill his sight as he approached, a twelve foot muscle bound giant approaching, hunched over with abs of steel flexing and his traps carving indents into the concrete ceiling. The Hulk struggled to move at times, dragging his rising traps through the concrete roof, shaking the dust off his shoulder. "What happened?! How Hulk... grow?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. "W-well Hulk, you're....hammer right there", Richard raised a finger pointing to the enormous girth between Hulk's legs. "That make's Hulk grow..." "Hammer? Hulk no have hammer. Have fists!" he growled, holding one out for Richard. "See! Better than hammer, stronger." He unfurled his fingers gently, his forearms rippling as the muscle pulled his ligaments in a synchronized dance. "Hulk remember though. Making Hulk feel good made Hulk grow. But Hulk remember... light, green, made Hulk! Get light, Hulk wanna see if it make Hulk Hulkier." "A light?", Richard asked questioningly. Perhaps he meant the machine. Green radiation could be the green light. If one dosage made him this big, what kind of an effect would another do to him? Regardless, Richard was almost giddy picturing the Hulk at a giant's size. After all, it was a discovery, a scientific discovery. He was ready to discover just how big man could be. "Hulk follow me" he said to him and walked out into the next room where the experiment took place. Part 2

This is a fairy tale from brothers Grimm's Book , I'll add some adjustments in the next chapters.... Chapter One ( original): A peasant had a son who was only as big as a thumb and did not grow any larger. In several years he did not grow even the width of a hair. One day the peasant wanted to go to the field and plow, and the little one said, "Father, I want to go out with you." "You want to go out with me?" said the father. "No, you have to stay here. There's nothing that you could do to help me, and besides that you might get lost." Then the thumbling began to cry and was not going to give the father any peace until he took him along. So the father put him in his pocket and carried him to the field, where he placed him in a fresh furrow. While he was sitting there a large giant came over the mountain towards them. "Do you see that bogeyman?" said the father, in order to frighten the little one into being good. "He's coming to get you." Now with his long legs the giant reached the furrow in only a few steps. With two fingers he carefully picked up the little thumbling, looked at him, then walked away with him without saying a word. The father stood there so frightened that he could not utter a sound. He believed that his child was lost, and that he would never see him again as long as he lived. The giant took the child home and let him suckle at his breast, and the thumbling grew large and strong like a giant. After two years had passed, the old giant took him into the woods in order to test him. He said, "Pull out a switch from over there." The boy was so strong already that he pulled a young tree up by the roots. The giant thought that he could do better and took him back home and suckled him for two more years. When he took him into the woods to test him this time, he was so much stronger that he was able to pull up an old tree. This was still not good enough for the giant, and he suckled him for yet another two years, took him into the woods, and said, "Now pull out a decent switch for once." This time the boy pulled the thickest oak tree out of the ground. When it cracked the boy laughed. When the old giant saw this, he said, "That's good enough. You've passed the test." And he took him back to the field where he found him. The father was plowing again, and the young giant walked up to him and said, "Father, see what a man your son has become."

https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12823-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-5/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13046-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-6/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13442-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-7/ Chapter 8: The Big Game The next morning my teammates and I awoke and made our way to the team's cafeteria for our typical pre-game breakfast. We noticed that strangely, most of the assistant coaches were not there enjoying breakfast with us. In fact, I saw a couple of assistants hustling quickly down the hallway as I walked into the cafeteria. I didn't think much of it, since, of course, this would be my first ever collegiate football game and being the first game of the season, I expected there to be some hectic surprises. The rest of the day the team hung out at the athletic center. As the game neared, I was becoming more and more nervous. Some of the upper-classmen noticed and did their best to give me pep talks and calm me down. Being just a freshmen, I appreciated the support, but it didn't calm my nerves much. Early in the afternoon we gathered in the players auditorium to run through our game plan with the assistant heat coach. Obviously, Coach Wood's massive leg wouldn't have fit in there, much less his entire impressive physique. Thus, Assistant Coach Harvey came in and led us through the game plan. At the end of the run through, Jamal asked. “Is Coach going to be on the sidelines with us?” Jamal and some others had also sensed some unease among the athletic staff throughout the day. Coach Harvey looked over the crowd of players, we could tell he was a little bit nervous, and spoke, “I'm positive he will be. I'll be frank with you all, The College Sports Association was offering some concerns about how to allow a man of Coach's size to be on the sidelines and it seems they attempted to force the school to disallow him to be on the sidelines.” A murmur wafted through the large crowd of amped-up young jocks. Coach Harvey quieted us and continued, “But, as our athletic staff has been researching, there's no rule against a giant man being on the sidelines so we don't see any reason why Coach won't be at the game. We are actively discussing with the Association and will confirm our stance with them. In the meantime, don't you worry about this matter. You young men have a huge opening game against our bitter rivals, the Monroe Mauraders. You focus on that, that's what Coach would want, got it!?” We all shook our heads and broke the meeting. After hanging out in the recreation room and eating another pregame meal fuel up, it was finally time to head to the locker rooms and get ready. The dozens of men around me began slipping into their pregame rituals. We had about 45 minutes before we had to be out on the field to warm up. Many of my now scantily clad teammates put in noise canceling headphones to zone out to their favorite warmup music. The jokesters of the group wandered around making fun to break the tension for those of us who were nervous. The Senior captains, clad only in football pants, their ripped upper torso's exposed, came around to quickly speak to each player and offer words of encouragement. The environment was brimming with amped-up testosterone waiting for competitive release on the gridiron. Soon we were suited up and ready to head out on the field. Assistant Coach Harvey came in to give us a little speech to pump us up some more. With and excited grin, he assured that our Giant Head Coach would be out there with us. This caused a raucous roar of approval from the team of young Brutes. Clad in our cleats, pants and undershirts, we each grabbed our shoulder pads and helmets and started for the exit of the locker room. The locker room wasn't directly connected to the stadium, we would have to cross a small, off-limits parking lot to enter the small stadium. The lot was specifically for the vising team busses, refs, and other College Sports Association (CSA) officials. As we headed for the door we felt a rumble on the ground. Jamal spoke up, “Awesome! The crowd must already be here, even for warmups! We don't usually feel the ground start to shake until the pregame show when the crowd is going nuts. Damn, I love our fans!” This further excited the rest of the team. We exited the door and began trotting down the soft carpet to the stadium entrance. We noticed it was a bright, beautiful, sunny, late summer day. I noticed we were bathed in shade, which was odd since there were no tall buildings or trees nearby. Then we heard some deep, deep rumblings that shook us to our core. I turned my head to my left, as did the rest of my team, and froze. My mouth hung open as I stared at the most magnificent, most awe-inspiring, yet terrifying sight I had ever seen. There, standing in the parking lot was Coach, clad in his normal outfit, sans shirt of course. Only he was bigger. Not just a little bigger. MUCH. MUCH. BIGGER. Whereas before the tallest members of our team reached the bottom of his tremendous diamond shaped calf muscles, now we didn't even clear the tops of his sneakers. The deep rumbling continued as we realized Coach was chuckling at us. The giant man leaned forward to address us. His upper torso was so muscular that he would have had to stand well back in order to see us over his monumental pecs without leaning forward. The monster muscle man opened his mouth and spoke. “HELLO DOWN THERE, BOYS. BOY, MY BIG STRONG BRUTE MEN SURE ARE LOOKING AWFULLY TINY LATELY! BUT DON'T WORRY, EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING LOOKS TINY TO ME LATELY, HEH HEH. WOW, YOU LITTLE GUYS DON'T BARELY REACH TO THE TOPS OF MY SNEAKERS, AND YOU ARE SOME OF THE BIGGEST MEN ON CAMPUS. YOU GUYS REALLY MAKE ME FEEL BIG!!!” Coach quickly stood straight up and reached HIGH into the sky. From our comparatively minuscule vantage point it looked like he could reach up and grab the sun. He then brought his arms down into a mind-blowing double-biceps pose. I'm sure the approaching fans got an amazing view. But, for us, he was so damn HUGE we could really only see the hulking triceps of his under arms, which were so pumped they hid his peaks from our eyes. He dropped the pose and again leaned forward, quickly adjusting his unavoidable bulge. “WHAT DO YOU THINK, BOYS? DO YOU THINK THERE WILL EVER BE A BRUTE AS HUGE AS ME!!” Myself and team began to overcome our natural fear and awe and happily shouted up our praise. A chorus of “No way, Coach!”, “You are the biggest Brute EVER!”, “A fuckin' MUSCLE GIANT!” and other similar platitudes emanated from my awestruck teammates. Coach grinned at us from far above. “SORRY I MISSED THE TEAM MEETINGS TODAY. I JUST COULDN'T FIT ALL THIS MASS IN THOSE TINY, ANT SIZED BUILDINGS.” He smirked down at us and continued, “YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED THE POWER WENT OUT LAST NIGHT. I WAS HEADED TO THE DEAN'S OFFICE WHEN I WALKED INTO SOME POWER LINES. DAMN THINGS ARE SO TINY TO ME DIDN'T EVEN SEE THEM AS MY LEGS CRASHED RIGHT INTO THEM. THE PHYSICS DOC SAID THE ENERGY WAS GREAT ENOUGH TO CAUSE ANOTHER GROWTH EPISODE. HE SAID I AGAIN DOUBLED IN HEIGHT! ISN'T THAT AWESOME, LITTLE MEN. YOUR COACH IS NOW A 100 FT COLOSSUS OF HUGE BODYBUILDER BEEF! GRRRRRRRR!!!” Coach growled and crunched into a most muscular pose above us, shielding us from the sun above and filling the entire team's vision with rippling, vascular, shredded, prodigious musculature. His growl was so ferociously loud we all shirked. Coach immediately noticed and quieted himself. “OOPS. SORRY LITTLE MEN. I'M SO HUGE THAT EVEN MY VOICE IS OVERPOWERING!” The players and myself began walking around Coach, examining his towering frame. Coach, pleased as peacock, simply stood still with his hands on his hips and with a bright handsome smile on his face as he looked down to us. We stood next to his sneakers, hardly able to comprehend the size of his footwear that were each the size of vans. We marveled that even at our highest reach our hands were far under the heavy sagging meat of his Fankhouser-esque calves. Jamal looked up and shouted up to our leader, “So glad you could be here, Coach. Coach Harvey said the CSA tried to keep you away.” Coach leered down to us with an ominous grin. “OH, THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME AWAY. A COUPLE OF GOVERNMENT GUYS CAME BY TOO AND TRIED TO GET ME TO GO WITH THEM. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? SOME TINY LITTLE "OFFICIAL" RUNTS TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO?” Coach leaned over, brought up his left arm and FLEXED his awe-inspiring biceps to full peak. Simultaneously, he reached over with his right arm and pointed at the boulder sized muscle. This time he angled himself forward so we could see the enormous mass bulge up from his arm. I remember how Coach had earlier said that he thought he was still growing slightly more muscular along with his sudden spurts of height and I could clearly see this in his arm. His astounding arm looked like it could've now been 26 or 27 inches around if he were at his previous mere moral height of six and a half feet. His biceps was so large that when he flexed, there was virtually no space between the mounded biceps muscle and thick elongated muscles of his forearm. “ALL I HAD TO DO WAS POINT AT THIS MUSCLE TO THEM KNOW WHO MAKES THE RULES. I TOLD THE LITTLE SHRIMPS THAT NO ONE IS GOING TO KEEP ME FROM COACHING MY BRUTES TO A VICTORY TODAY. AND THERE WAS NOTHING THEY COULD DO TO STOP ME. HELL, AT MY SIZE NO ONE COULD STOP ME FROM DOING ANYTHING IF I DON'T WANT THEM TO!” Coach sneered cockily as he relayed his story to us. It was impossible not to sense a bit of fear from his attitude. I imagined the CSA and government men pissing their pants as they tried in futility to tell the biggest, strongest, most powerful being on the planet what to do. Coach was an intimidating man at just 6 ft 6 inches tall. At 100 ft, that intimidation factor was magnified exponentially. Coach, sensing our unease, softened his expression. “SORRY IF I SCARED 'YA, LITTLE MEN. IT'S JUST THE THOUGHT OF NOT BEING ABLE TO COACH YOU MAKES ME VERY ANGRY.” Coach snickered and repeated that famous line from the Hulk franchise, “AND YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY!” Coach then looked over his shoulder down at the parking lot. I wondered what he was searching for when I saw it. A small white sedan with the “CSA” logo painted on the side. Obviously the car used by the CSA officials to oversee the game. “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY MAKE ME ANGRY!!” Coach raised his huge left foot, the fibers of his exposed quads firing as he moved. He was so large that he just had to lean over a bit to his left where he let his colossal sneaker SMASH down on top of he doomed car. In a millisecond the car was flattened beyond recognition. Unlike when Coach slowly caved in the news van from a couple of days ago, with his newly doubled size his massive shoe completely covered and obliterated the small car. We all jumped back from the sudden show of power. After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, my teammates began to shout more cheers and praise up at him. “Damn, Coach Brute! That was awesome!” “Yeah, Coach, show them CSA pussies who is in charge!” “Man I'm sure glad you are our Coach! You are like a god to the little people!” “Haha you made smashing that car look easy! You are so fuckin' powerful!” “Nobody tells you what to you, BIG COACH BRUTE! Especially not those tiny government boys!” Coach beamed with pride as he heard us, feeding his ever growing, yet deserved ego. Even with the frightening display of masculine power we just witnessed, we knew it had only been brought out because some foolish officials were trying to keep him from coaching us today. With a 100 ft tall overdeveloped herculean man watching over us, nothing could take us out! “WELL BOYS, IT'S TIME YOU HEAD INSIDE THE STADIUM TO WARM UP. BECAUSE I'M SO DAMN HUGE AND MUSCULAR, I'M GOING TO STAND OUT HERE TO COACH. OTHERWISE, WITH MY HUGE LATS, HALF THE STADIUM BEHIND ME WOULDN'T GET TO SEE YOU GUYS KICK SOME ASS.” Coach punctuated this statement with a titanic lat spread. The wing-like lats under his arms spread out to what looked like 25 yards across...then 30...then 35!! Coach's lats were so magnificently built, that when it looked like he couldn't get any wider, his enormous back muscles unfurled even further. The v-shape he demonstrated as he expertly flexed was nearly incomprehensible, seemingly extending his upper torso to three times the width of his chiseled abdominals. Coach chuckled some more as we stared up at him, again in awestruck silence. He broke the pose, allowing our brains to regain function. “YOU BOYS KEEP STARING AT ME LIKE THAT AND IT'S GOING TO GIVE ME A BIG HEAD, HAHA. NOW GET OUT THERE AND GET WARMED UP! GO!” His sudden demand caused us all to hustle onto the field. As we entered the field it became clear that Jamal was right about one thing. Many of our fans had showed up early and even with 45 minutes to kickoff the stadium was about 75% full. The crowd cheered us on as we entered the field, but as soon as the cheering died down I noticed that all the spectators had turned their heads toward the South end of the stadium. The South end was adjacent to the maintenance parking lot and at only about 30 ft tall, was the lowest part of the stadium. Thus, everyone could see the magnificent bare-chested giant bodybuilder standing behind there behind. He clapped as we entered, each time his hands connected it sounded like a large firecracker exploding. After Coach's news conference it became clear that so many people arrived early so they see the largest man in history with their own eyes. A few minutes later the visiting team entered from the opposite end of the stadium. I chuckled as the entire visiting froze as soon as they caught sight of our coach. Once they had got their wits back, they filed onto the field and stretch as well. The visiting Marauder's head coach, Thomas Morton, a well-known portly man who was known for his bombastic attitude and arrogant demeanor, trotted out onto the field and too became paralyzed with awe. Coach, with his hands on his hips in a powerful stance, quickly spotted the overweight opposing coach at the other end of the field. “COACH MORTON! WELCOME TO OUR STADIUM. I'M EXCITED FOR A GOOD GAME BETWEEN OUR SQUADS. BUT I MUST SAY, COACH MORTON, YOU'VE REALLY LET YOURSELF GO! HOW CAN YOU BE AN INSPIRATION TO YOUR PLAYERS TO GET BIGGER AND STRONGER WHILE LOOKING LIKE THAT? ONE THE OTHER HAND...” Coach spread his arms out wide and looked cockily down at his own torso. He alternately turned each arm, admiring the size of the unflexed muscles covering each appendage. He bent down and felt up the massive individual muscles of his quadriceps and then looked back at Coach Morton, “...ON THE OTHER HAND, MY BOYS SEEING ALL THESE HUGE MUSCLES OF MINE EVERYDAY ONLY INSPIRES THEM TO LIFT HARDER AND GET BIGGER AND STRONGER THEMSELVES!” Coach Morton had never felt so emasculated in his life. He just stood there, frozen, looking like a man whose entire dignity had been stripped away. He lowered his head and headed over to his sideline, looking defeated before the game even began. Something Coach obviously saw as he continued to address Coach Morton. “AND DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE THAT PRESS CONFERENCE YOU GAVE LAST WEEK. HOW YOU SAID YOUR TEAM WAS GOING TO CRUSH OUR TEAM. HOW YOU WOULD SHOW NO MERCY AND HAVE NO HARD FEELINGS ABOUT RUNNING UP THE SCORE! HOW ABOUT I SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL 'CRUSHING' WILL LOOK LIKE!” Coach looked down and to his right and reached down with both hands and picked something up. As he rose it became clear that he was holding each end of Morton's bus. In his hands it was no bigger than a loaf of bread. And with no more strength than a normal man would required to squeeze that loaf of bread, our giant coach bared his teeth and CRUSHED the ends of the bus together like an accordion. The windows shattered and fell to the parking lot. Loud distinct pops could be heard as the tires blew. The high pitched squeal of twisting metal pierced the air. “THIS IS WHAT REAL CRUSHING IS. AND YOU WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE THIS POWERFUL. IF YOU ARE GOING TO USE BIG THREATENING WORDS, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE THE MUSCLE TO BACK IT UP! HAHAHA!” Coached laughed and let the crumpled-up mass of metals crash to the parking bellow. Coach Morton gulped in fear at what he had just seen. “OH, AND COACH MORTON, I CAN TELL YOU AND YOUR BOYS ARE SCARED OF ME AND TO PLAY AGAINST MY MEN. MAYBE EVEN SO SCARED THAT YOU ARE AFRAID TO WANT TO BEAT MY TEAM. WELL, THAT IS EVEN IF YOU COULD BEAT MY TEAM. IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE, I'M A REALLY, REALLY BIG STRONG MAN. BUT TRUST ME, IF YOU GUYS SLOW PLAY THIS GAME AND DON'T TRY YOUR HARDEST, THEN I ASSURE YOU I WILL BE VERY, VERY ANGRY. I WANT TO SEE A GOOD COMPETITIVE GAME, FULL OF EFFORT FROM BOTH SIDES, GOT IT?” Coach finished his statement by ominously cracking his knuckles. Ever the sportsman, he did not want us to win simply due to the other team's fear of his imposing body. He wanted us to EARN the win against a worthy opponent. I shuddered to think what would happen if the other team just flat out gave up and didn't give us any fight. Coach Morton dramatically shook his head up and down, notifying our Coach of his understanding that he wouldn't hold his team back. Forty minutes later the game began. Obviously, our head Coach couldn't perform all the duties typical of a mortal-sized coach so Assistant Coach Harvey took over for that. Still, as we had many hand signals, he was able to communicate sufficiently with us what he wanted on defense. For the first half the game was relatively tight. We never led by more than 10 points and after a successful long touchdown pass, we went into halftime with a three point lead. I could easily tell why the other team was one of the top in the nation. They were very good, very big and very strong. Not to mention the fear of invoking OUR Coach's wrath likely had them playing harder than they ever had. The giant man behind the South stadium provided us with excellent calls, motivation and inspiration. There was nothing like seeing his huge jacked body and handsome smile beaming proudly down at us after we made a good play. While the visiting Morton team was good, they were still no match or our own superior skill, size and strength and we began to slowly overpower them. Early in the 4th quarter we were nursing a seven point lead. The Marauders had the ball and were driving the field against us with some trick plays that caught us off guard. They were only 15 yards away from the North end zone. Before the next play, I looked up to see Coach signaling an outside blitz from me and I relayed the play to the rest of our team. The Marauders snapped the ball and I broke and made a beeline to their QB. As I closed in on him, I could see the surprise in his eyes. I saw him cock back his arm and start to lob the ball over my head for a screen pass. In a flash I read the play and leaped straight up as high as I could. I saw the ball just above my head, reached up and snagged it out of the air. INTERCEPTION! I landed and took off sprinting towards the opposite South end zone. As I ran as fast as I could, I saw Coach waving his beefy arms to me in a “come here” motion. I had never seen him look so excited before. I made it to the 50 yard line, then the 40, then the 30, I could feel the defenders on my heels. As I kept running Coach started JUMPING UP and down! I could feel the tremors rumbling the ground as his muscular tonnage pounded the ground. His massive pectorals bounced hypnotically as he himself bounced on the ground. The tremors were strong enough I almost tripped up! But I kept my balance and finally made it the the end zone! It was an 85-yard, pick-six interception! In my first collegiate game! I was so excited as my teammates caught up and mobbed me from behind that I barely noticed how winded I was from sprinting 85 yards. As the team cleared away I looked skyward to see Coach beaming proudly at me. Remembering that day in the weight room, I smiled up to him and gave him my most imposing most muscular pose, clenching my fists together in front of my waist. His grin widened more and he laughed. He then smirked, hunched over and returned his own far more impressive most muscular pose with a cocky smile. The crowd went wild, not only from my touchdown, but from seeing Coach FLEX his titanic muscles. In one play, I had turned the game from a tight contest into a dominating win for us. I had never felt so proud of myself in my life. With the momentum on our side, we dominated the rest of the game and ended up winning by three touchdowns. As the teams left the field, Coach addressed Coach Morton. “GOOD GAME COACH. WE'LL SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR. OH YEAH, REMEMBER WHAT I SAID, YOU WOULD REALLY SHOULD GET YOURSELF INTO THE WEIGHT ROOM IF YOU WANT TO COMPETE WITH THE LIKES OF THIS! HAHAH!” Coach laughed as he flashed the opposing coach a quick double biceps pose. As we exited the stadium we gathered around Coach's shoes. I noticed the car sized lump of twisted metal that was formerly the Morton passenger bus nearby and could hardly comprehend the power it would take to do that. Coach grinned down at us. “YOU LITTLE BRUTES SURE MADE THIS BIG BRUTE VERY PROUD TODAY. THAT WAS A CHAMPIONSHIP EFFORT. NOW, THERE ARE STILL 11 MORE GAMES IN THE SEASON SO DON'T THINK YOUR WORK IS DONE. YOU ALL NEED TO KEEP PRACTICING HARD AND LIFTING HARD AND IF YOU DO YOU HAVE A GREAT SHOT TO MAKE IT TO THE CHAMPIONSHIP COME DECEMBER. NOW HIT THE SHOWERS. AND CAPTAINS, OLDEST TO YOUNGEST, MEET ME EVERY 15 MINUTES IN THE FIELD HOUSE FOR A POST-GAME DEBRIEFING STARTING ONE HOUR FROM NOW.” After showering up and enjoying a nice post game meal, I soon headed over to the field house. The sophomore captain was just exiting as I entered the building. I walked in and there was Coach, standing up, the top of his cap dangerously close to the rafters of the field house, filling my view with fuzzy, rippling, golden MUSCLE. “THERE'S MY STAR OF THE GAME!” He said excitedly as I entered, filling my heart with pride. “GREAT GAME, JACKSON. THAT LONG PICK-SIX BASICALLY SEALED THE GAME FOR US. I BELIEVE YOU ARE A STAR IN THE MAKING, YOUR READ THAT SCREEN PASS BEAUTIFULLY, JUMPED UP AND SNAGGED THE BALL AND RACED BACK TOWARD ME...MAN THAT AWESOME.” “I owe it all to you, Coach! You called that blitz for me, it was the perfect call! That QB never saw me coming!” “I GUESS WE MAKE QUITE THE TEAM, YOU AND I, MY LITTLE BRUTE!” “Yes we do, my BIG COACH BRUTE!” I lowered my voice and shouted, trying to sound big, Coach chuckled at my playfulness. Coach then slowly crouched and sat down on his big bulbous ass. He put his arms beside him, palms flat on the turf, triceps flaring, and stuck his LONG legs straight out, straddling me. On each side of me were the world's biggest and most muscular thighs and in front of me was the worlds most packed crotch, trapping me in a virtual cocoon of manhood. Even with him sitting slowly, a big tremor rumbled through the ground as his hulking tonnage rested on the field turf. “THERE, MUCH BETTER. YOU LITTLE GUYS ARE BASICALLY SHRINKING TO ME. I DON'T MIND STANDING UP AND TOWERING OVER THE OTHER PEOPLE, IT REMINDS HOW HUGE AND POWERFUL I AM. BUT I DON'T LIKE INTIMIDATING MY OWN LITTLE BRUTES, HEHE.” “It's ok Coach, you really can't help it! Haha, even with you sitting there your head is FIVE stories above mine. I could practically HIDE under your pecs even with you leaning back. Your massive quads are so huge I would need a rope to scale them, it's like I'm flanked by two massive, golden tanned beefy walls of POWER. And your crotch...Coach, your shorts are looking tighter and tighter!” Coach smirked with satisfaction as I praised him. “HEH HEH. JACKSON, YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS BIG BRUTE FEEL GOOD. REALLLLLL GOOD...” Coach leaned forward and brought one hand forward and began to palm his crotch in front of me. “AND YOU ARE RIGHT. LIKE I SAID, ALONG WITH MY HEIGHT SPURTS, I SEEM TO BE SLOWLY GETTING BIGGER AND MORE MUSCULAR...” He smirked down into my eyes and added, “...AND MORE HUNG!” By now I was rock hard as well, watching the monster in Coach's packed shorts grow. “Wow, Coach I can see that. OH MY GOD COACH!” I shouted in surprise and his monster dick began to extend out PAST the leg of his khaki shorts, pressed up tight against his left inner-thigh. “YEAH, LITTLE GUY. LOOK AT THAT. THAT IS A REAL COCK RIGHT THERE.” In complete shock and awe, I could only nod in agreement. “JACKSON, I HAVEN'T TOLD ANYBODY ELSE YET, BUT I HAVE AGREED TO LET THOSE GOVERNMENT BOYS RUN SOME TESTS ON ME. THAT MEANS I WON'T BE HERE FOR PRACTICE FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS.” My face fell as I looked up him disappointingly. “I KNOW, I KNOW. AND I KNOW I TELL YOU BOYS TO NEVER TAKE ANY GAME LIGHTLY, BUT YOUR NEXT GAME IS AGAINST A TEAM THAT WAS WINLESS LAST YEAR, SO I HAVE COMPLETE CONFIDENCE IN COACH HARVEY TO LEAD THE TEAM.” Coach's face turned stern, “AND TRUST ME, THERE IS NO WAY I'M GOING TO LET THEM KEEP ME AWAY FROM YOU GUYS FOR TOO LONG. IF THEY DO...THEY WILL REGRET IT.” Coach was so huge that it was easy to see all his muscles and tendons tighten and flex defensively, all his massive firehose-sized veins erupt as he considered what he would do if anyone tried to keep him away from us. “NOW, BEFORE I TAKE OFF TOMORROW...” Coach reached down his huge hand and began rubbing the now exposed cock head, “HOW ABOUT YOU JOIN ME IN ONE LAST BRUTE JACKING SESSION?” He grinned at me seductively, there was no way I could resist. I striped off my clothes and stood there naked and rock hard in between the giant man's legs. “OH YEAH, LOOK AT THE HOT JOCK STUD BODY. YOU LOOK SO GOOD, LITTLE BRUTE.” Coach's dick began to thicken and lengthen even more! Quickly I heard the unmistakable sounds of ripping. His cock was so huge and powerful, not to mention his now proportionally larger glutes and legs, that his khaki shorts could take to no more and began to tear at the inseam! Coach reached down, lifted his ass slightly off the turn and proceeded to finish TEARING his shorts off with a ear-piercing RRRRIIIIIPPPPPPP. He wasn't wearing underwear, and his rock hard cock sprang up like a trebuchet, thwacking his abdomen well above his navel. “AHHHH THAT FEELS SOOOOO MUCH BETTER. I OUTGREW MY UNDERWEAR A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, IT'S NICE TO BE FREE OF THE LAST RESTRICTIVE PIECE OF CLOTHING! LET ME FINISH UNDRESSING LITTLE BUDDY!” Coach leaned way forward over me reaching his long arms behind me. He lightly bent his legs, reached forward and slipped off his shoes and socks. A warm smell of musky, jock feet crossed my nose. But it wasn't rank, just another pungent smell of ultimate masculinity. I looked straight up and saw each car-sized abdominal muscle hovering 30 feet above me. The valleys in between each ab was so deep they could've served as small canals. Coach leaned back and began to take off his hat and whistle. “Coach, wait!” I shouted. “Um...would...would yo mind leaving the hat and whistle on?” You look like such a huge jock muscle stud with them on!” Coach chuckled deeply. “YOU GOT IT, LITTLE MAN. TELL YOU WHAT, SINCE YOU WERE THE STAR OF THE GAME, WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?” He asked with a smirk. I thought about it for a few exciting seconds. The possibilities I could dream up with him seemed endless. “Um, would you mind setting me on your belly, and then laying down with your hands clasped behind your head? I just want to explore your giant body, Coach!” “MMMMM JACKSON, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK.” He slowly reached forward and gently lifted me up with his incredible hands. Each finger was a long as I was. For a second I was worried he would accidentally crush me, no doubt he possessed the power to do so. But, he proved to be perfectly gentle, lifting me up with and depositing me on his titanic stomach, right now to the mushroom head of his monster cock. The massive beast had to be 15 feet long now and over four feet in diameter. He smiled as he leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head with a happy smile. His chest pulled up and his massive lats flared out, exposing his DEEP hairy armpits, again sending my sense of smell into overdrive as his sweaty musk permeated the air. Wow. Standing on his abs, I looked left, then right. There was SOOOO much super-developed man flesh spread out in front of me. I noted how his elbows were out so wide they were nearly brushing each side wall of the field house. I began to walk forward, noting the taught hard skin and enormou lumps of abs. I layed down on top of the upper most right side ab and just felt the hard, warm mass underneath me. I couldn't help it as I ground my hard cock into the taught, tough skin. “MMM EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE SO TINY I CAN FEEL THAT, JACKSON. FEELS GOOD.” I got back up and walk up to the shelf of his pecs. I traipsed over to his right nipple, the size of a beach ball and began to knead and punch it. Suddenly the ground below began to tremble. “OH DAMN, JACKSON, FUCK! MY NIPPLES ARE SO SENSITIVE. YOU'RE MAKING ME LEAK!” I glanced being me and sure enough, the huge cock head was dripping pre into a kiddle-pool sized puddle on his abs. After playing with his nipple I climbed up onto his pecs, now allowing me to see Coach's handsome face with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of a tiny man exploring him. “Wow, Coach, your pectorals are so massive I could build a house on each one! I can see each sinewy fiber under your tanned skin. Your chest hair is so soft, it's like walking through a wheat field. No one on earth has BIGGER or MORE MAGNIFICENT pecs than, you do, Coach!” I feel the ground rumble underneath me as he moaned deeply from his sternum. I made my way over to his right armpit. I had to step down of his huge pecs. Luckily, his lats were so huge they gave me more than enough shelf to safely walk on. I spread my arms out and let my entire body fall into the warm musky pit. His pit hairs were so soft and comfortable. I ground my face into this pit and again felt Coach moan from pleasure. I saw a shadow cross over me and noticed he had release his left harm from behind his head to reach down and rub his pipeline sized cock. After servicing his pit I climbed back out and up onto his arm. For a muscle lover there was just no way I couldn't explore that arm. The massive ball of biceps and huge meaty triceps. I simply layed down in the relativity small divot between the biceps and triceps on the side of his arm and marvelled at the muscles flanking each side of me. “Coach, no man on earth has biceps like you. There have been proportionally bigger arms in history, but those arms were bolstered by layers and layers of fat. There may have been more ripped biceps in history, but they belonged to skinny little weak men who had zero fat. But no man has the ultimate combination of ripped AND huge, freaky, massive peaked biceps, and feathered triceps like you do. These are the best arms in HISTORY!” Coach growled and the FLEXED his right arm with loud GROWL. The arm underneath me expanded, the skin underneath my body pulled tighter in each direction as it struggled to contain the growing muscle. I watch as his already mounded biceps began to push higher...and higher! At my tiny size the split in his peaks was big enough to rest my leg inside! “FUCKKKK YEAH JACKSON. LOOK AT THOSE COLLOSAL ARMS. ARMS SO HUGE THAT YOU TINY MEN COULD LIVE IN THEM. ARMS THAT COULD CURL AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER! BICEPS SO MASSIVE AND HARD THAT A WRECKING BALL WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO DENT THEM!” Coached moaned some more and jacked his cock with more fervor. I followed his lead and did the same. “UHHHH JACKSON, LET'S DO THIS. NOW YOU DO ME A FAVOR. STAND UP ON MY CHEST, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, AND GIVE THAT MOST MUSCULAR POSE LIKE YOU DID AT THE GAME!” I walk over and stood on his right pec facing him. His left pec was bunching and and bouncing like crazy as he used his left arm to masturbate. He tilted his handsome face up and opened his deep blue eyes to see me standing on his pec, rising and falling as he took deep breaths. I kept my stance wide to maintain balance. As soon as his eyed made contact with mine, I smirked cockily, back at him. “A most muscular pose, Coach. Like you taught me?” I teased. Coach moaned and jacked harder. I then crouched forward and FLEXED my abs, arms, traps, pecs and legs as hard as I could and GROWLED as loud as tiny man could. “GGGGRRAHHHH COACH! LOOK AT MY MUSCLES THAT YOU HELPED BUILD!” Coach's face scrunched as the loudest moan I had ever heard erupted from his gaping maw. Suddenly I felt a huge stream of wetness fall across my shoulders and back. Coach's massive dick was EXPLODING WITH ORGASM, coating me in his seed. I quickly brought my own hands down and jacked my own rock-hard tumescence, seeing and feeling jet after jet of white Coach jizz shower me and the massive chest surrounding me. I screamed and let out my own powerful orgasm, coating the square footage of his hairy muscle chest in front of me. As I finished, I fell to my knees, and then laid down on the wet, hairy expanse of pectoral in front of me, exhausted. Coach let his arms fall to the side and I fell myself rise as his pecs consequently plumped underneath me from the motion. “DAMN, JACKSON. THAT WAS THE BEST ONE YET. THERE IS NO WAY I'M LETTING THOSE GOVERNMENT BOYS KEEP ME AWAY FROM YOU!” He rumbled, chuckling. “DAMN, NOW I HAVE EVEN MORE OF A MESS TO CLEAN UP!” He joked and as I stood up and laughed with him. Epilogue: Coach did indeed return next week right before the game. Our team dominated the rest of the season and coach was at every game. In December, we brought home the school's very first national championship. There were challenges with a 100 ft Coach, especially for away games, but like any challenge facing him, he met it head on along with the rest of us and came away with full success. Coach, of course, became a national celebrity, using his size to help out wherever he could. Whether it be assisting the fireman or police in rescue missions, cleaning up verhicle accidents or his favorite, helping the city demolish condemned or unwanted buildings. An activity where we really got to show off his size and power to his adoring fans. The university supplied him with sustenance and clothes, although he rarely wore a shirt. His huge body was like a human radiator and even in winter he only required a light tank top to keep warm. The university constructed some living quarters for him off campus in the form of a handful of aircraft hanger size buildings, furnished of course. Along with a massive heated swimming pool to allow him to wash off. Of course, I continued to see Coach during “captain's meetings” throughout the year. Coach had promised that he would stick around to coach the team for at least the next three years, through the end of my playing career before he would decide what the future held for him. Even without being able to properly workout with weight, Coach continued to slowly grow in musculature, aided by his nearly naked body constantly absorbing energy from the sun and his daily workouts consisting of various body weight movements. The only question that remained, was Coach truly done growing, or was there a power source out there strong enough to cause another doubling of his size? Only the future could tell.

Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12823-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-5/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13046-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-6/ Chapter 7: Captain The next day, Friday, was our last day of preparation before the big game tomorrow. In order to allow our bodies to heal and rest up from the hard week of practices, the pre-game practice was more of a walkthrough in just our shorts, t-shirts and helmets. Coach towered over us all at center field, shirtless, explaining our game plan on offense and defense. His exposed torso was a point which Jamal, the big playful lineman, couldn't ignore. “Yo Coach, where is your tank top from yesterday? Or are you just trying to impress us with your jacked muscles?” A deep, rumbling chuckle could be felt in all our chests. “WELL JAMAL, IS IT WORKING?” Coach lifted up his left arm and clenched his fist, flexing his titanic biceps far above our heads and exposing his cave-like armpit. Whistles, hoots and appreciative hollers were voiced up toward the giant posing man. “HAHA, BOYS. JUST DIDN'T WANT TO GET ONE OF MY FEW SHIRTS SWEATY. A BIG MAN LIKE ME ONLY HAS SO MANY CLOTHES.” I noted that Coach's bare skin seemed even a slight shade darker than yesterday, as if the energy he was absorbing was not only making him bigger, but perfecting him in other ways too, giving his skin a deep bronzed glow underneath the light covering of body hair. Jamal shook his head and added, “Damn, Coach, I swear you are looking more swole than ever!” Coach grinned as he flexed and unflexed his cannon, pumping it up bigger. “I KNOW MY BODY, JAMAL, AND I AM DEFINITELY MORE “SWOLE” AS YOU KIDS SAY. IF I WAS STILL MY OLD SMALL, ORIGINAL HEIGHT, I'D VENTURE A GUESS THAT I'VE PUT ON AT LEAST A SOLID INCH ON MY ALREADY AWESOME ARMS. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THE ENERGY FLOWING THROUGH ME, MAKING ME BIGGER AND STRONGER! I LOVE IT!” After Coach's self appraising speech, we ran through a few plays at half speed to make sure we were all on the same page. After a short 45 minute practice session we gathered literally at the feet of Coach for one final practice speech. As part of the speech, he also discussed the captains. Yesterday during film we all voted for two captains. Coach revealed proudly that, unsurprisingly, our starting senior quarterback and senior all-American linebacker were two of the captains as voted on by the rest of the team. We clapped for our team leaders as they stepped up in front of coach's massive sneakers and he commended them. As we stared up at his heaving pectorals, Coach then announced the additional three captains as chosen by the coaching staff. We applauded as he called up the Junior starting center and our up-and-coming star Sophomore defensive lineman. Coach then finished, “AND MY FELLOW BRUTES, CONGRATULATIONS TO TOMORROW'S STARTING SAFETY AND CAPTAIN, FRESHMAN MASON JACKSON!” My eyes went wide as I heard my name and saw my leader's gigantic, handsome eyes boring into mine, his face with a proud smile. The rest of the team hooted and hollered, those close to me patting my back as I made my way up to the front with the other captains. I was stunned and speechless. Here I was, being named not only a starter, but as a team captain, and I was only a Freshman. “BRUTES, THESE FINE MEN WILL BE YOUR ON-FIELD CAPTAINS. ONLY THEY ARE ALLOWED TO ADDRESS THE REFS ON THE FIELD. THEY WILL BE YOUR LEADERS ON THE FIELD, LISTEN TO THEM. AND CAPTAINS, MYSELF AND THE OTHER COACHES DO NOT TAKE LIGHTLY IN SELECTING YOU. YOU HAVE EARNED THE “C” ON YOUR JERSEYS, DO NOT LET US DOWN. NOW, THE REST OF YOU HIT THE SHOWERS AND THEN MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE FILM ROOM. OBVIOUSLY I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO JOIN AS I'M TOO BIG TO FIT IN THE FILM ROOM, BUT THE ASSISTANTS WILL TAKE YOU THROUGH THE SESSION. CAPTAINS, STICK AROUND, I WANT TO GO THROUGH A COUPLE MORE THINGS WITH YOU BEFORE YOU SHOWER UP.” After the rest of the team left the field, Coach got down on the one knee in an attempt to get closer to us and together we walked through the duties of the captains, including what we would need to do during the coin toss tomorrow. We discussed several scenarios, whether to defer or take the ball, which side of the field to choose, how to consider the wind and weather, etc. Coach then instructed each of us to visit with him one-on-one early this evening. He wanted to speak with each of his captains individually to further go over each of our respective responsibilities. Since I was the youngest captain, I would be the last to visit him at about 8:00pm tonight. Coach rose up off his knee to his full height, his abs and pecs rising like a hot air balloon above our heads, and dismissed us to shower. “THANK YOU MY BRUTE CAPTAINS. NOW GET READY FOR FILM SESSION AND PAY ATTENTION. YOU ARE THE NEXT IN THE CHAIN OF COMMAND AFTER THE ASSISTANT COACHES, SO ITS ALSO YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO KEEP YOUR TEAMMATES IN CHECK AS WELL. I'M COUNTING YOU MEN. HIT THE SHOWERS!” Once cleaned up we joined our teammates and the assistants to watch film. The assistants also ran through tomorrow's agenda. Even though the game wasn't until 7:00pm tomorrow night, we were instructed to be at the athletic complex early in the morning for breakfast and we would remain there, isolated for the entire day to avoid distractions. After film I had one Friday afternoon class before I headed to the cafeteria to fuel up. I caught up on some studying until it was 7:45pm, when it was time to head to the field house for my meeting with Coach. As I was walking through the corridor to the field house I passed the starting quarterback. I was right on time. I opened the door and was again instantly overtaken by Coach's superhuman scent, causing my cock to twitch. Coach was sitting on his bench, shirtless with just a sheet wrapped around his waist, his head still a good 30 or so feet above the ground when he spotted me. “JACKSON! WELCOME MY LITTLE BRUTE CAPTAIN!” Coach shifted his butt down onto the turf to speak to me from a more equal level. “Thanks Coach. I'm honored and so surprised. I...I don't know what to say. I mean, I thought there would be several other guys who are better than me-” Coach cut me off, “DON'T YOU START DOUBTING YOURSELF, JACKSON. YOU EARNED YOUR CAPTAIN'S STATUS. THERE ARE OTHER MEN ON THE TEAM WHO MAY BE BETTER ATHLETES THAN YOU, BUT NONE OF THEM HAVE YOUR COMBINATION OF INTELLIGENCE TO GO WITH YOUR ATHLETICISM. YOU NEED BOTH BRAINS AND BRAWN TO SUCCEED AT THIS LEVEL AND YOU HAVE IT. YOU'VE BEEN WORKING YOUR TAIL OFF SINCE YOU GOT HERE.” Coach and I spent the next few minutes discussing what he expected of me as a captain. How he wanted me to be a leader on the field and speak up and make decisions for my teammates, even though I was younger than three-quarters of the team. How I would be one of the players who is allowed to speak the referees when a penalty occurs. It seemed like such a huge responsibility but with Coach encouraging me I had never been so excited to tackle a new task. “YOU HAVE A BRIGHT FUTURE. YOUR GROWTH SINCE I RECRUITED YOU HAS BEEN WONDERFUL TO WATCH, JACKSON. AND NOT JUST YOUR FOOTBALL SAVY, I'VE ALSO NOTICED THE MUSCLE YOU'VE PUT ON. HOW MUCH WEIGHT HAVE YOU GAINED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE SUMMER?” I smiled up at Coach, happy that he was seeing what I was also seeing in the mirror. “So far about 15 pounds!” “THOSE ARE SOME GREAT GAINS FOR A MAN YOUR SIZE. I CAN DEFINITELY SEE IT. AND I CAN SEE IT IS ALL MUSCLE. YOU'RE SHREDDED, AND SEEING YOUR ABS MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A FAT MAN!” We shared a laugh as Coach patted his mighty stomach. While my abs were small yet deeply etched, his were huge and powerful, like the rest of him. “Thanks Coach. Although my gains are nothing compared to yours in the past week!” “HAHA, I GUESS THAT'S TRUE JACKSON. I'VE HAD A BIT OF HELP TOO, BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING!” Coach said as he looked down and bounced his pectorals, one by one. “Damn, Coach, your muscle control is insane!” “THANKS JACKSON. I'M SURE WITH YOUR GROWING BODY YOU ARE LEARNING TO DO FUN TRICKS LIKE THAT TOO. AND TRUST ME, THE LADIES LOVE IT!” Coach smirked wryly at me and added, “AND SO DO THE DUDES.” I grinned up at Coach and caught a sparkle in his eye. He then requested, “WELL JACKSON, STRIP OFF THAT TANK TOP. SHOW ME YOUR PROGRESS. YOU'VE SEEN MY BOD, LET'S SEE YOUR MUSCLES. SHOW ME A DOUBLE-BICEPS POSE.” I obeyed and whipped off my tank top and tossed it on the ground. Coach was still sitting on the ground with his back against his bench. He legs were splayed wide on each side of me as he watched me intently. I brought my arms out wide and slowly raised my fists upward and toward my head, flexing my biceps. “VERY NICE JACKSON. YOU HAVE SOME NICE PEAKS. GREAT SEPARATIONS. LET'S SEE YOUR CHEST.” I turned sideways and tried to mimic Coach's side chest flexes. “AGAIN, YOUR DEVELOPMENT IS GREAT FOR YOUR SIZE. NOW SHOW ME YOUR BACK.” I turned around and again brought up both biceps and gave Coach my best back-double biceps pose. “A NICE WIDE BACK TO GO WITH YOUR TINY WAIST. TREMENDOUS V-SHAPE. YOU'VE GOT A FRAME THAT COULD EASILY PUT ON PLENTY OF MUSCLE.” I turned around and beamed. “Thanks, Coach! Your weight training program has really helped. And you are such an inspiration, seeing your big bulging body every day.” I grinned and brought my arms up into another double-biceps flex and playfully crowed at Coach. “I would love to be a bodybuilder like you some day!” Coach chuckled and started to stand up. As he rose from the ground he grinned, “JACKSON. YOU ARE LOOKING GOOD AND YOU CERTAINLY GOT THE GENES. YOUR POSING NEEDS SOME WORK THOUGH. HERE, LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL POSING ROUTINE LOOKS LIKE!” I gasped at the what I was about to see. Coach slowly stood, reaching the pinnacle of his towering height, with me standing awestruck on the ground about 15 feet in front of his ankles. “THIS IS HOW YOU DO A PROPER DOUBLE-BICEPS POSE, LITTLE MAN.” Coach re-planted his feet so they were slowly pointed outward. This caused his mega-sized quad muscles to bulge even larger. He clenched his stomach muscles before he gracefully swayed both his arms out wide and up, where he paused for just a second, before locking the position of his elbows and then swinging his forearms upward while making a fist. Each of his biceps erupted from his arms. “POSING IS ALL ABOUT FORM AND GRACE,” he narrated as he unclenched and reclenched his fists, causing the wrecking ball size biceps muscles to rise and fall hypnotically. Coach then synchronously brought both arms down while rotating 90 degrees. He did so with the fluid motion of a ballet dancer. It was a side of Coach I had never seen. Not only was he immensely powerful, when he wanted to he could move with a beauty and grace that belied his rugged, supremely pumped body. He brought one arm to the side and while smiling down at me, puffed up his pecs and performed a perfect side chest pose. Even he was impressed with how we was looking, “WOW, JACKSON, YOU COULD PRACTICALLY BUILD A HOUSE ON THAT PEC SHELF, DON'T YOU THINK?” I nodded, dumbfounded at what I was having the pleasure of seeing. Coach then swung his arms out wide again and using their momentum to turn another 90 degrees to show me his back, which was loaded with mounds and mounds of thick, lenticular muscles. As I stared up 30 ft into the air I was greeted by the sight of Coach's two, thick erector muscle columns, no doubt overly developed from years of massive deadlifts. As my eyes drifted higher my own eyes had to refocus into wide angle lenses as his tanned, hairless lats suddenly jutted outward, even without flexing. Coach then reached both hands back and placed his fists near the top of his waist. As he faced away from me I heard, “IF YOU WANT TO WATCH A MOVIE SOMETIME, JACKSON, I KNOW WHERE YOU CAN FIND A WIDE SCREEN! HAHA!” As Coach joked he slowly unfurled his incredible lat muscles. Throwing his elbows out wider...and wider. He unfanned his lats and I was astounded. He looked to be 25 ft wide!! Saliva dripped from my open mouth as Coach presented me with an Olympia quality back lat spread. Somehow, I audibly emanated a “wow” and saw my hero's body bounce slightly as he chuckled at my verbal awe. From over his shoulder, Coach added with a cocky grin, “OF COURSE, HOW CAN I SHOW OFF MY HAMSTRINGS AND GLUTES WITH THIS BIG BAGGY SHEET?” I gasped as Coach undid the sheet and it fell to the ground. I again gasped as two of the most glorious ass muscles that ever existed loomed above me about 25 ft up in the air. His glutes were just as developed as the rest of him, sitting atop his ribbed hamstrings and presenting a tight crease where his hamstrings and glutes met. The old adage, 'you could bounce a quarter off that ass' was apt here, only in his case you could use a manhole cover instead! Coach adjusted his stance and really squeezed his glutes, which shockingly tightened even further revealing a clear concave dimple in each glute. I was certain that butt could squeeze coal in diamond. By this time, I was rock hard although I hadn't even noticed. The titanic man of muscle in front of me was just too much. Even slightly bigger, harder and more muscular than when I saw him in the pool the other day, and now seeing him in his full gigantic glory under the bright indoor lights had me at full mast, harder than I'd ever been in my life. And it was only going to get hotter as Coach slowly turned around to face me. As he turned I quickly spotted...it. Jutting far out past his his hip. Like me, his posing session had turned him on. Coach only had to twist his body by about 30 degrees before the enormous cock head came into view. He continued turning slowly around to face me, his battering ram making a wide arc out in front of him. Finally he was facing me with his hands on his hips and his erection jutting out directly above my head. With him being so huge his face was obscured from me by the pornstar-sized schlong. Coach chuckled and twisted his hips slightly, again exposing me to his handsome smiling face. “POSING ALWAYS GET'S ME EXCITED, HOPE YOU DON'T MIND, LITTLE BRUTE.” I saw his massive eyes drop slightly downward as he took notice of my own tenting shorts. “IT LOOKS LIKE MASSIVE MUSCLE FLEXING GETS YOU EXCITED TOO, JACKSON! WHY DON'T YOU LOSE THE SHORTS, AND JOIN ME IN POSING. PERHAPS I CAN GIVE YOU A COUPLE OF POINTERS.” I dropped my shorts and kicked them to the side as Coach Wood gave me a whistle. “YOU ARE ONE FINE SPECIMEN OF YOUNG SEXY BEEF, JACKSON,” he said as I felt myself go into a full body blush. “THOSE EXTRA 15 LBS OF MUSCLE ARE SUITING YOU VERY WELL. IT GOES WELL WITH THAT IMPRESSIVE COCK YOU'RE SPORTING THERE, LITTLE STUD.” I grinned up at Coach as he peered far down into my own relatively tiny eyes. “HOW ABOUT A MOST MUSCULAR? LIKE THIS!” Coach's chest tilted forward toward me and it felt like a wall was falling at me, causing me to flinch just slightly. He brought his fists together just above his waist and FLEXED every muscle of his torso down at me. His width seemingly doubled in size as each muscle tightened into frightening definition. The fibers snaking across the top of his chest looked to be as large as ropes to me as he smirked and growled and held the pose. I grinned up at him and mimicked his pose as best as I could, bringing my own hands together in front of me. Of course, being at a level 40-some feet below him I couldn't much hunch forward, but I did my best to crab my torso muscles and sneer up at coach. “OH YEAH, JACKSON. LOOKING POWERFUL. YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A RUN FOR MY MONEY I SEE! ALL THE LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS WILL BE ALL OVER YOUR BUFF BODY.” I reveled in his praise. “BUT...I DON'T THINK YOU CAN QUITE COMPETE WITH THIS!!!” Coach raised both his monstrous arms up and brought his hands together behind his head. His bulbous lats flared out like a the wings of a peacock. Each arm seemingly doubled in size as the muscles of the limbs fought for space and bunched against each other. Each biceps was so massive the peaks were pressing against his own temples. The exposed hairy armpits were so deep and cavernous due to his incredible pectorals and delts that I could've gone spelunking in them. He swung one massive leg out in front of himself and planted his foot, which was longer than I was tall, right in front of me. He growled down at me as he crunched his abs together and flexed his godly quadriceps, giving me the most amazing abs-and-thighs pose ever seen on this earth. From my vantage point just below his shins I was looking up at a tower of thick, powerful, bodybuilder muscle and manhood. Coach's own proportionally 13 inch cock, that is, 13 inches if he were still a 6 ft 6 mortal, loomed above me like a battering ram, flanked on each side by tons of warm, veiny, dense muscle. I broke my pose and just stared way up in awe, my own cock now leaking. I could barely speak. “So...so big...so huge...” I muttered and my hero smirked as he heard. “Coach Wood, you are amazing. Wow, I've never been so turned on by a man before. You are amazing, sir. No man on this earth could ever compete with you. Those muscles, that definition, that...that...monster cock. You make every man on this planet look like a...pathetic weakling! You are so...so hot!” He relaxed the pose and chuckled before giving me a warm smile. “THAT MAY BE TRUE JACKSON, BUT I DON'T WANT YOU OR ANY OF YOUR TEAMMATES TO EVER THINK OF YOURSELVES AS PATHETIC WEAKLINGS. I MAY BE IN A LEAGUE OF MY OWN, BUT YOU ARE MY PLAYERS AND I WANT YOU TO BE THE BEST MEN YOU CAN BE. YOU ARE A STUD, JACKSON. YOU'RE TALENTED, SMART, ATHLETIC, YOU'VE GOT A FANTASTIC BODY...” I noticed now that Coach was playing with his tumescent log. “...AND YOU ARE HANDSOME TO BOOT.” Coach sighed as his massive eyes bored holes into my own. I could feel the tension in the air. It was then that I realized I had been full on jacking my dick while talking with Coach. “YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD LOOKING YOUNG MAN. FUCK, I JUST CAN'T HELP IT!” Coach suddenly stooped over and reached his mighty right hand down and wrapped his fingers around me. I lurched up into the air as he picked me up. He moved me up to his waist where we sat me down straddling the magnificent caber that was his cock. I leaned back against his pelvis, his trimmed pubic hair scratching against my back. “JACK OFF WITH ME MR. MASON JACKSON, I HAVEN'T GOT OFF SINCE THAT EVENING IN THE POOL I'M SO PENT UP.” I stared forward and saw his monstrous hands work down and back on the mighty erection. The sequoia sized, sinewy forearms moving toward and away from me in rhythmic motion. I titled my head back and looked up and saw the underside of his gigantic pecs hiding his face from view. Each nipple pointed down toward me due to his herculean development. I joined him and began beating my own dick in the same rhythm as coach. After a few minutes of heavy mutual masturbation I could feel my body becoming warm and wet, dampened from my own sweat and my coach's. I could hear Coach's breathing picking up along with mine. He then again reached toward me and picked me up with his right hand. He lifted me up and held me in front of his sex-glazed eyes. “FEEL MY MUSCLES, JACKSON.” He then lifted his left arm and flexed. He maneuvered me over and laid me down on top of the flexed biceps muscle! My ass was sitting in the crook of his arm while I leaned forward and hugged the granite mound of flesh. Coach flexed and unflexed his arm and I felt myself rise and fall against it. The motion of the muscle fibers bunching and elongating against my groin caused stimulated me to start humping his muscle. Coach signed heavily, “OH YEAH JACKSON, THAT'S SO HOT. FUCK MY MONSTER BICEPS, MY LITTLE BRUTE!” My body was on fire as I leaned forward to lick the flexing mass underneath me. At his size, the split in his biceps was as big as the cleavage between a normal-sized bodybuilder's pecs. I continued to grind my rock hard cock against his arm. At one point I glanced to the side and down 25 ft or so to see coach using his free hand to furiously jack his own meat. “OOOOOOHHHH YEAH LITTLE BUDDY. LET'S BLOW TOGETHER!” Coach began to flex and unflex faster, bringing me to a fever pitch of muscular stimulation. Not 30 seconds later both of our bodies tightened. Coach flexed his biceps harder than ever, his forearms pressing against my back forcing my body into his boulder-sized muscle. We both groaned loudly and blew our loads in sync. I was only slightly disappointed that I didn't get to see his geyser, but unloading my balls on his biceps was more than enough to make up for it. As we calmed down Coach reached over and gently lifted me from his arm, his wet, jizz soaked fingers encircled my waist and he set me on the ground. I looked behind me to see various pools of white cum dotting the turf of the field house. I looked back up at Coach and saw one of the hottest things I had ever seen. Coached smirked down at me, again flexed his left biceps muscle and brought it toward his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked up my own load off the taught, titanic biceps. “MMMM, NOT ONLY ARE YOU A STUD, YOU TASTE GREAT TOO, JACKSON.” To clean up, we again snuck our way into the pool. Once we were clean Coach dismissed me for the night. “GET SOME REST, JACKSON. WE'VE GOT A BIG GAME TOMORROW. AND, I NEED TO GO BACK AND FIGURE OUT HOW I'M GOING TO CLEAN UP MY MESS IN THE FIELD HOUSE,” he chuckled. My roommate and I were hanging out as we prepared for bed. We talked excitedly about how our first game would go tomorrow. Suddenly the power went out, which was odd since there were no storms in the area. Luckily, since it was Friday night neither of us were in the middle of any homework assignments so no school work was lost. About 10 minutes later the power came back on. We watched some TV before settling in and drifting off to sleep, excited for the chance to play for our giant football coach the following day.

So I started writing this on another site and was convinced to post it here too. It will not be everyone's cup of tea, but hey, I think it's hot! This story will not nearly be as long as my last either, which is fine by me. We'll get to the action much quicker. ************************************************ Chapter 1: Recruited I’ll never forget the first time I met Coach in person. It was February of my senior year of high school and I had just arrived home from my after school workout. As I walked in the door there he was, sitting at my kitchen table, chatting with my parents. I had exchanged a few emails and phone calls with him in the past couple of weeks, but to meet him in person was an especially exciting event. Not just because he was a local celebrity and one of the most sought after young college football coaches in the country, but because of the opportunities he brought with him. But first, let me back up. The previous Fall, I enjoyed a surprisingly successful football season, racking up several accolades and honors. All of a sudden I was soon receiving some recruiting interest from the smaller universities in our region. This was all very surreal to me as never in my life did I think I, Mason Jackson, was good enough to extend my football playing career past high school. Not only did I question my own skill, but I played of the smaller high school in our state, which don’t tend to get the type of exposure needed to get recruited to the bigger schools. Even then, I thought I was too small to play college ball, being only 5 ft 10 but a solid 175 lbs. Granted, I played defensive back, which are always the smallest guys on any football field. The position I play is out in the backfield, which is mostly open space. Primarily, my job is to keep the faster players from the offense from catching passes. So being smaller, faster, quicker and more agile was an advantage for my position compared to the big, lumbering beasts who played at the line of scrimmage. Regardless, thanks to my own high school coaches, my name had gotten out there for the college coaches to review. It was exciting to receive the attention I was getting even though it was mostly from smaller universities. Of course, my parents were thrilled that I now had a chance to attend a school on scholarship. Being a straight A-student, I was already in line for some financial assistance, but a full-ride athletic scholarship was not something I was going to squander. But no offer was more exciting than the one I received for Biltoft University. Bilthoft University was the major college in our area of the state. It was located in a college town about 50 miles from my home. It was a smaller major, private university that was heavily invested in academics. Over the decades it had built up a reputation as being one of the top academic universities outside of the Ivy League. Of course, being our local university, I had grown up following all the Biltoft sports teams, along with the majority of my family and friends. The men's sports teams were known as the Brutes. The Bilthoft Brutes. While most of Brute teams experienced average levels of success, for most of my life the Brute football program had a sad existence. Apparently, the football team was quite good for about a 15-year era in the 60’s and 70’s but then went into a dark period for about three decades. During this time it was common for the team to only win two or three games per year and there were even a couple of winless seasons in that mix. During this period, the university powers-that-be invested very little into the success of the football program. Most of the school's resources were directed o expanding the academic profile of the school. At its heart, being an institute of learning, this certainly wasn't a bad thing and it contributed geatly to the school's academic profile. With this philosphy, Biltoft had even become one of the top universities in the world for its research in particle and quantum physics. So, while no one could really argue that a school shouldn’t spend most of its money on academics, it wasn't being realized that a lot of extra potential revenue was being missed that even a mediocre football program can generate. Revenue that could then be used for both athletic and academic improvements. So, as a result the football program languished for nearly three decades. Since Bilthoft was so heavily focused on academics, many of the football players recruited during this time were, well, nerds as well. Basically the university took in any smart high school football players they could get, regardless of skill level. For three decades the school's mascot was never more ironic. The Brutes, the hulking, muscular mascot betrayed the frail and weak (by college football standards) players on the Brute football team. During this time the university's squad picked up a derisive nickname, the “Bilthoft Boobs.” Although no one knew it at the time, the future of the school would forever change in the late 90’s when it recruited a tall, wiry, hardworking local linebacker named Mitchell Wood. Like most of the school's recruits at that time, young Mitch was virtually unknown. Mitch Wood's main intention was to attend Bilthoft for a biochemistry degree. He was of course, very intelligent, 4.0 GPA, valedictorian of his class you name it. He was a good player in high school, but did nothing that would indicate the star player he would develop into. After his college career, in various interviews Mr. Wood would talk about how most of his success could be traced back to when he really discovered the weight room his freshmen year. As he progressed through his four years at Bilthoft he lifted intensely and developed into one of he best defensive players not only in the school's history, but in the entire country. His startling physical development, combined with his impeccable intelligence, helped him become a beast on and off the football field. He set many of the Brute defensive and weightlifting records and still holds many of those records even to this day. There was even talk that, if he had been on a better football team, he could have been a contender for the Heisman trophy. By his junior year, he had NFL scouts chomping a the bits to draft him. The star Brute player had even led the team to its first bowl game appearance in 21 years. But, alas, halfway through his senior, Mitch Wood was felled by the all to common ACL injury. He still could potentially have rehabbed himself in time for that year's NFL draft and that was his original plan. However, he fell in love with the idea of coaching while sidelined with injury. He elected to forego the draft to the disappointment of many agents and finish out his college career to get his biochemistry degree, which he did that spring. The following year Mitchell Wood took a position at a local high school teaching chemistry and, of course, coaching the school's football team. His impact was immediate. His teams continuously improved and in just a few short years developed a new high school dynasty, even winning multiple state championships. Back at the University, soon after his time at Bilthoft had ended, Mr. Wood's impact was still being felt. Having had one of the the best players on the country leading the team to even moderate success had begun to weigh on the university's board. The younger members of the board began to realize how a successful athletics program can actually compliment the school's academic profile and not hinder it. The new revenue that Mr. Wood helped generate was a catalyst that began to weigh on the minds of the board. It was just a couple of years after Mr. Wood had left that program began to regress again and so the board decided to take action. They fired the football coach in search of a new direction. Of course, still being a relatively low-tier football program, the school knew they would not be able to bring in any high profile coaches. Thus, they decided to take a risk and hired Mitchell Wood, the formal Brute star and high school coaching phenom, to be the new coach at the tender age of 27. Coach Wood was absolutely thrilled to take over the position at his alma-mater and graciously accepted. Much like his high school teams, he quickly turned the Brute football program around. As a man hugely into weightlifting, he immediately revamped the team's strength and conditioning program. He was unusual in college football in that he assumed the shared role of head coach and also strength and conditioning coach. Very soon the brainy jocks on the field began to look bigger, faster, stronger and harder. After a 1-11 season the year before, Coach Wood led his first collegiate team to a 7-5 season and its first bowl game since he played. It was a stunning turnaround for modern college football. In just one year the average weight of a Brute football player increased by a full 25 lbs of solid muscle! It wasn't long before the school lost it's derisive moniker and soon the players were being known as the “Built Brutes”, a fun play on words that perfectly reflected the physiques underneath the Brute jerseys. His second season the team went 9-4, earning the school's first top 25 ranking in four decades. The third season they played for a conference championship and in his fourth season the Brute football program brought back its first conference championship trophy in FIVE decades! His stratospheric rise then led his teams to back-to-back 11-2 season and top 10 rankings. Unsurprisingly, with his meteoric rise to success many of the historic powerhouse football schools clamored to hire him away from Bilthoft. But, every year coach rebuffed their offers, saying he owed everything to the Brutes and that the now 33-year old coach was happy to build a new powerhouse football program, further endearing himself to the Bilthoft institutional family. What was even more surprising regarding the team's success was that Coach Wood kept with the schools proclivity to recruit the most intelligent players to maintain the school's high academic status. With the recent success on the field, the athletic profile of the average Brute recruit rose as well, but Coach had a knack for finding diamonds in the rough. The highly intelligent, but ultimately undeveloped players for which he considered himself to be when we first recruited out of high school. And so, this philosophy led Mitchell Wood to my kitchen table one winter day. He saw me walk into the kitchen and I immediately froze in star-struck awe. Even though I had been exchanging messages with him I had no idea he was coming to my house. He stood up and up and turned to face me and offered his hand in greeting. “It's nice to meet you, Mason.” Other than his celebrity, the man was simply overwhelming. From seeing him on TV I knew he was a big, burly man. But seeing him in person really illustrated that point. He had to be 6 ft 5 in, maybe 6 ft 6 in tall. He must've had a late growth spurt because I thought he was listed as a couple of inches shorter during his playing days. The other thing that astounded me was his muscularity. He was not just big like many ex players, he was still very buff! I knew he was a seriously lifter from researching his history once he started contacting me. I had found out that he had even competed in some amateur bodybuilding contests back when he was just out of college. With some internet digging you can even find a few photos of him flexing up on stage from about a decade ago, looking huge, jacked, tanned and shredded. But now, the man in front of me was even bigger and more powerful than the young man in those photos. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt (the team's colors) with the Brute logo, a “B” with two cartoon biceps flexing on each side, plastered over his overdeveloped chest muscles. The tight blue polo was tucked into tan khaki slacks which were also tight due to his muscled glutes, quads and hamstrings. Not to mention that he seemed to be very well developed in the crotch as well. The man seemed to have it all. He had hugely muscular arms with a pencil thick cephalic vein running over his biceps and vascular forearms. It looked like with one accidental flex he would burst the seams of his polo. He was in fantastic shape. He had the type of build that suggested he could still compete in bodybuilding with just a few weeks of dieting and conditioning. His head was topped off with matching white baseball cap, his signature accessory, also with the Brute logo on the front. Being straight, I still couldn't deny that he was an amazingly handsome man with a rugged visage and chiseled jawline. He had a dark fu-manchu mustache which complimented the deep dark brown sideburns that stretched down from under his hat, framing his face. The fu-manchu added to his intimidating presence, but once he smiled warmly and shook my hand, I saw there was no reason to fear. “Nice to meet you, Mason. I'm Mitchell Wood, but I hope you'll call me 'Coach'”. I shook his huge hand which seemed to swallow up my own. I could feel the scratchy callouses on his palm, no doubt built up from years of gripping the knurling on weightlifting bars. His voice suited him perfectly, it was deep, rumbling and masculine. “It's nice to meet you Mr. Wood,” I began. “I'm a bit surprised you have expressed so much interest in me.” He chuckled down at me and gave me another friendly smile. “I see you are modest too. I have been watching your high school tapes and I am very impressed. You were a special player to your team, a great on-field leader. I fully believe I can help you develop that and that you would be a great asset to our program.” He was very charming too. This guy was the complete package, the perfect man. “Son, I am here to formally offer you a invitation to play for the Bilthoft Brutes.” I committed to play for the Brutes right there on the spot. *********************************************************** Chapter 2: A New Season I was seated in a large room with about 75 of my football playing peers early the following August. It was still three weeks before school officially began but the athletic teams were allowed to move onto campus early for practices. The room was abuzz with excitement as we waited. Finally, the coaches began walking in and stood at the front of the room. Coach Wood, stood front and center wearing what I would soon discover was his trademark outfit. On his feet he was wearing large white sneakers. Even from afar I could tell he had very big feet, I'm guessing at least size 15. The bottoms of his legs were covered with white athletic tube socks. The socks came up to encircle to the largest diameter of his massive, protruding calf muscles. Traveling up from his calves his muscularity and pulchritude became more and more evident. The lower half of his exposed, striated legs were covered by thin dark hair. Above his knees coach's quadriceps exploded outward in relief, the heavy muscle of his thighs so large that they threatened to cover up his kneecaps. This was clearly a man that had focused on squats and deadlifts to build up those tree trunk legs. A few inches higher coach was wearing mid-thigh length khaki shorts. I suspected the reason coach opted for short khakis was as utilitarian as it was aesthetic. The short shorts allowed his massive legs the freedom to move with causing much chafing, but it also gave his adoring fans a chance to ogle some of the beefiest legs you can imagine. Upward still, the legs of the shorts joined at the crotch where a sizable bulge was unmistakable. Coach was certainly a man whose large stature was in proportion everywhere. Above the shorts Coach was in his typical shirt. A tight, light grey, light fabric t-shirt that had “COACH” printed on the front chest in large block letters. His heaving pectorals were so large that the middle of the shirt was sucked into his muscled cleavage, thus slightly distorting the word “COACH”. Hanging just in front of those beefy muscle pillows was Coach's whistle, the noise of which we would soon become well acquainted to. Due to his tremendous bulk, the t-shirt was tight everywhere else too. Well, except at his waist. Our new coach obviously made an effort to keep his bodyfat relatively low. Further up, on the sides of his chest and under his arms his lat muscles pulled the fabric outward whenever he extended his arms or stood with his fists on his hips. Even further up, you couldn't help to be amazed at his arms. We all knew coach was a bodybuilder in his former years and his arms certainly led credence to that fact. They were enormous and sinewy, each with that large cephalic vein prominently sticking out over his unflexed arms. And you certainly couldn't ignore the huge meaty mass of his triceps hanging from the bottom of his arm, adding to his arms' intense size. I longed to see what his arms looked like when flexing. On top of his chest stood his fire-hydrant neck, framed by two huge triangular trapezoid muscles. On top of his neck sat his amazingly handsome, rugged face with his classic fu-manchu mustache and matching side burns. Completing the outfit he wore a white ball cap with a large blue “B” with two flexing arms, the logo for our Brute football program. As we settled down Coach began to speak. “Men, welcome to another year at Bilthoft! I look around this room and I see champions. Some of you may still be champions are in the making, but you all have what it takes to succeed. ARE YOU READY FOR A NEW SEASON!” The room erupted in hoots and hollers from all the players, the room was buzzing with competitive testosterone. The coach raised his hands to silence his players and then went down the line and introduced us all to the various position coaches. In general, each player would only be working with one or two of these position coaches plus the head coach during practices. “Ok boys, head to the locker and suit up for our first practice!” One of the seniors sitting in the front row piped up before anybody moved. “YO, COACH! YOU GOTTA SHOW THE NEW GUYS!” Coach grinned at the senior lineman who had addressed them. “Show them what, Jamal?” “C'mon Coach. Every year you end the first meeting showing us those huge GUNS of yours! It looks like you've been lifting even harder since spring practice ended. IT'S TRADITION, COACH!” Laughs and snickers could be heard throughout the room. Coach and his assistants were chuckling too. It was easy to tell why everybody loved Coach. Off the field he was a very easy going, playful, charming, and endeared himself to almost anybody he met. “Well, Jamal, I upped my caloric intake in the past couple of months and switched my lifting routine around a bit to see if I could put on some more mass. You guys have all been getting bigger so I decided I needed to put on some size too. Need to you keep you fella's in your place, haha.” Coach began bending and unbending his arms at his sides, smirking at Jamal as he spoke. “I've put a solid inch on these pythons, can yo believe that?” “Shit yeah Coach! You are looking monstrous. C'mon show 'em to us. You've got the ball cap with the flexing arms, all us upper-classmen consider your first meeting flex to be the real start to the football season!” Sheepishly, Coach replied, “Well, I don't know, Jamal, maybe we need a new tradition...” The room noise began to grow as the players protested playfully. Coach was toying with us all and we knew it. Catcalls, whistles and claps poured out from the crowd of jacked up young men: “Show us, Coach!” “Let's see it.” “I don't think your arms are any bigger!” “Flex 'em big guy!” Coach chuckled at looked at the ground with his hands on his hips. He loved that his huge powerful body was such a motivator for his players. "Well, boys, let's go suit up and have a great practice. I think this is going to be a special year. Work hard out there on the field, lift hard in the gym, study hard in the classroom and big things will come, and do you know why, boys?... … BECAUSE WE ARE THE BILTHOFT BRUTES!” Coach suddenly raised both arms into a herculean double-biceps pose. The enormous mass of his biceps exploded upward seriously testing the fabric of his tight, grey t-shirt sleeves. The huge hamlike muscles of his triceps simultaneously pulled the shirt downward, filling the tortured sleeves with pounds and pounds of muscle. His biceps were freaky! They looked like they belonged on a champion pro-bodybuilder, the peaks were amazing! The room exploded in a masculine frenzy of cheers as we all admired our colossally buff coach and also hyped ourselves up for our first practice. Coach finally lowered his arms, “OK boys, time for practice!” As we dressed for practice the upper classmen couldn't stop talking about coach. “Holy cow, bro! His arms were HUGE! He's always been jacked but I can't believe he put on even more muscle since we last saw him.” “Shit, bros, I hope he trains us like he trained himself, I would love to put on some more beef too!” I knew Coach was big and buff, but the last time I saw him in person he was in slacks and a polo shirt. Of course, I didn't see him flex when he recruited me so I didn't have much to judge by. I took my teammates at their word that coach was even bigger now. That first week of practice was one of the hardest weeks of my life. Coach worked our asses off. Even though he was so huge and intimidating and could've easily used fear to whip us into shape, he was such a great motivator that the thought of disappointing him was enough to make us give him 110%. Of course, that didn't stop him from yelling like a terrifying beast when he was displeased. But, there was never any threat of physical violence, he truly was like our huge, intense football father out there on the field. In the afternoons we would lift weights with our team unit. That is, for me, I lifted with all the other defensive backs. As coach was the strength coach as well, we was right there with us to teach us proper technique and push us to lift heavier and heavier weights. Since the outdoor practice in the hot summer sun usually left his grey t-shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to his lumpy muscles, he usually changed into a sleeveless shirt for the lifting session. This of course fully exposed those ENORMOUS arms. Once we were done lifting, the seniors again couldn't help egging him on about his huge pythons. Matt, the starting senior safety and captain of the defensive backs, always seemed to be the instigator of our group. “Damn, coach! How big did you get over the summer?” he asked. Coach just laughed at his players. Since the defensive backs were the smallest guys on the team, Coach towered over all of us and was also far more muscular. “Oh, Matt, about the same size, I guess, haha. 6 ft 6, just like always!” Coach teased. “Ah, C'mon coach you know what I mean. How much do you weigh now big man?” Now that our lifting session was over we gathered around to hear Coach out. “Well, Matt, let's go see.” We followed him over to the electronic scale that was in the corner of the weight room. Coach stepped up on it and we all watched the small screen as the numbers were calculated. “Well, little men, it looks like I'm up to 305 pounds!” “DAMN COACH! YOU ARE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Coached just stepped off the scale and looked down at us proudly. “That's what, another 25 lbs since last winter, right?” Matt asked. “Yep, Matt. I told you this new routine has really been helping me grow. It's the same routine I got all you on right now, so I expect the same result from all of you! I want to see all of you put on 25 lbs by the end of the season, GOT IT BOYS?” “YES SIR!” We all shouted in unison. However, Matt still wasn't satisfied. “Hey, Coach one more thing, you said you put a solid inch on those canons, how big are they now?” Coach just chuckled down as his senior captain. “Bigger than yours, Matty. Bigger than yours.” Matt, however, knew just how to play to Coach's competitive side. “Yeah I figured they gotta be like 20 inches or so. I mean, they didn't look very big last winter.” Coach smirked and stepped right up to Matt, who, at 5 ft 11, only came up to Coach's chin. “You think these monsters are only 20's?” “Yeah Coach, can't be that big, haha. Maybe 21s, but surely no more,” Matt grinned back. Coach chuckled and walked over to a bench press station that still had 225 lbs loaded on the bar. He grabbed the bar and quickly performed ten perfect barbell curls and set the bar down. He made it look like he may as well have been curling a broomstick. The peaks up his arms exploded in size as he curled a weight that many of us struggled to bench press, pumping them and filling them with nutrient rich blood. “Hey, Jackson,” Coach turned to look right at me. “Why don't you grab that tape measure hanging by the scale and we'll see how good a judge of size Matt here is.” Since I was closest to the scale, I turned and saw the tape measure that he was referring to hanging on the wall. I grabbed it walked over to Coach. “Why don't we measure Matt's guns here first.” Matt laughed. He was one of those cool, relaxed guys who had virtually no shame so he cheerfully stepped up to the plate. “Sure, Coach, but don't feel sorry when my huge guns make yours look like pipe-cleaners!” I walked up to Matt and he raised his right arm, gritted his teeth and flexed his bicep as hard as he could. I wrapped the tape around his arm, which for his size was quite impressive. I announced the number as 16.5 inches. Certainly not huge, but he had very little fat so it was a solid measurement. Coach patted him on the back. “Not to shabby Matt. Nice job. Ok, Jackson, why don't you do the honors and measure this little pipe-cleaner right here.” Coach stepped up to me and FLEXED his enormous arm right in front of the me. Gasps and whispers emanated from the other defensive backs as we watched the huge lump of muscle surge upward. I froze for a second, partially in fear and partially from awe, before stepping up to Coach with the tape. I placed one end of the tape on the very peak on his biceps and held it with my finger. It felt like pressing on warm granite. His arm was so huge that my hands looked like a toddlers as I wrapped a tape around his arms. I pulled the tape tight and read the result. “Just a hair under 24 inches.” “HOLY SHIT COACH!” Another stunned teammate shouted. “Those are like, pro-bodybuilder size arms! And your arms aren't fat, they're fucking jacked!” Coach dropped his arm and stood up proudly in front his players. “Well, Matt, it looks like you need to do a few more curls before you can match these babies! But, seriously, gentlemen, great lifting session today. Now after you shower make sure you head to cafeteria to refuel your spent muscles, otherwise you won't grow. Then rest up and we'll see you all tomorrow. Great job my little Brutes!” During that first week on campus it also became apparent just how popular Coach was outside of the athletic department. We all knew he was a smart guy and he could often be seen eating lunch with the scientists in the physics laboratory. It was quite a site to see, this huge, herculean man eating lunch with short, skinny, nerdy looking scientists. And they genuinely all got along. One time when I was in physics lab I overheard him speaking with this scientist friends and he was able to converse with them even at their own level of quantum physics technobabble, language that went right over my head. At that moment it really sank in just how intelligent Coach really was. About a week before our first game something happened on campus that would forever change the dynamic of Bilthoft University. School had just started and so campus was now full of students. While I was sleeping in my dorm on Monday morning my room suddenly rattled. At first I thought it was an earthquake but then I remembered those are quite rare here in the midwest. About 15 minutes later my phone buzzed with an automatic text message from the university: [Students. There has been a minor explosion at the physics lab. The University is still investigating but thankfully we do not believe there have been any major injuries. Please stay away from the physics lab as we continue to investigate and clean up.] Of course, as soon as I read this I ran outside, as did most of my dorm mates, and walked over the physics building. The campus police had already ran some yellow tape around the building and were keeping us all at a safe distance. We could see there seemed to be a small blowout of one of the outer brick walls and fireman were milling about. We soon realized that, as the message had stated, it seemed like true disaster had been diverted. That afternoon I received another automatic text message from the football coach's account, telling us to meet in the team meeting room before practice today. The team filled in the small auditorium, wondering what the occasion might be. The offensive coordinator, Assistant coach Harvey, an older 45 year old man, walked into the middle of the room. We were all wondering where the head coach was. “Gentlemen, I have some unfortunate news. Now, before I set you in panic, know that Coach Wood is doing well. Unfortunately, he was in the physic lab this morning when the explosion occurred. I don't have all the details, but the scientists and the doctors have been monitoring his condition as a precaution. I have been told that there is no reason to worry at this point. As such he will not be at practice today. I will be leading practice. I want you all to work harder than ever had to make Coach proud when he hopefully returns tomorrow.” All the players took that to heart and we really did try our best at practice. But, there certainly was a bit of somberness among the entire team. We couldn't help but feel at least a little bit worried about our beloved Coach's condition. Of course, for the rest of the day, the local news media was all over the story and had gotten wind that coach was involved. As the speculation ran rampant, it certainly didn't help with our anxieties. The following day my roommate, also on the football team as a wide receiver, and I went to class still wondering about the fate of our coach. Later in the morning we received another team message: [Practice will begin at it's normal time. Coach Wood is doing well and will be in attendance] Instantly we all felt better and looked forward to having Coach back on the field with us. No doubt we were all curious as to just what happened in the physics lab, as the details from the local news was still spotty. Later that afternoon the team had gathered in the locker room to change into our practice gear. I was chatting happily with my defensive back buddies, talking about how we couldn't wait to see Coach. We were speculating if we was even going to be able to participate or if he was just going to watch while he recovered from his injuries. Facing my locker, I had just pulled up my jockstrap and football pants when the locker room grew quiet. Suddenly I felt a large presence near me. This was not uncommon, as many of the guys on the team were in excess of 6 ft 5 and 300 lbs, but this felt different. I turned to look at my locker neighbor, Derrick, “Yo, Derrick, why is everyone so quite all of a sudden?” I glanced at his face a saw his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, staring upward at something behind me. I slowly turned around and saw one of the most incredible sights of my life. There was Coach, standing a couple of feet behind me, in the middle of the locker room. He had his hands on his hips, with his elbows flared out in that quintessential superman pose. Coach was...big. I mean, even bigger than he was before. WAY BIGGER. I now understood why the room was silent. Coach allowed us all to take him in...and there was A LOT to take in. He had a cocky smirk on his face as he looked out around the locker room and saw all his players staring way up at him. Since he was standing right near me I took note of the true size of this man. I was standing straight up and noticed that my eyes were just about even with the waistband of his khaki shorts! Coach has GROWN! That meant that his legs alone were now almost as tall as I was! And Coach had of course retained his immense musculature. At his new size he probably now had more muscle in one of these meaty thighs than my entire body! My eyes followed his torso upward. He was wearing his typical tight coach shirt, tucked into the relatively small waistband on his coach shorts. From my vantage point down below I could actually see the underside of his heaving, fabric covered pectorals. His flared elbows and monstrous arms we now well above my head as well. I actually had to step back just slightly to see his face, which at close range was obscured by his muscled chest. Finally my eyes gazed upon his ruggedly handsome face and ballcap covered head. I noticed his head was right near the light fixture hanging from the high ceiling. He was a towering colossus of dense muscle. Being this close to him I had never felt so small in my life. A shocked murmer began to roll through the locker room as the players began to regain their speech functions. I heard several shocked phrases from my teammates: “Holy Shit!” “He's fucking HUGE!” “Look at the size of his arms! His chest is massive!” Finally Coach spoke, “Gentlemen, once you are dressed, please meet me in the auditorium for a quick team meeting!” With his new size his already deep rumbling voice was even lower. You could practically feel his voice vibrating in your chest. After he spoke he slowly turned and sauntered out of the locker room, having to hunch over to exit out the 8 ft tall doors, leaving his stunned team behind to finish dressing. Once he was gone Derrick and I shared a look. He spoke first, “Holy shit, Bro! Coach was already a big guy, now he's a GIANT!” The entire team quickly dressed and we made our way into the team meeting room. Coach was standing up front, dwarfing the assistant coaches. One we had all filed in coach spoke up. “Gentlemen, as you know, yesterday there was incident at the physics lab. Dr. Martin, the quantum physics researcher was showing me around the lab when we both heard a lout explosion. The next thing I know this weird green energy beam is blasting me right in the chest and rubble is all around me. Dr. Martin thankfully was able to quickly shut off the energy beam generator. Dr. Martin and the fireman rushed me to the hospital just to make sure I was ok while the fire department cleaned up the destruction. While at the hospital it became apparently that my clothes and I were, well, growing. Once my growth had stabilized the docs checked me out and allowed me to head home. Dr. Martin is going to continue to monitor me to make sure there are no adverse reactions to the that quantum laser beam that blasted me so there is no reason for further worry. Men, I am still your Coach, I'm just a bit bigger now.” One of the senior lineman couldn't resist replying. “A bit bigger, Coach? You are a GIANT!” The room erupted in laughter, and the coach just smiled handsomely. “How tall are you now?” “Haha, you lineman are always so obsessed with stats. Well, little men, as of last night your big coach was measured at 9 ft 10 in tall!” Coach proudly puffed up with massive chest as he announced his new stat. He obviously was enjoying his new stature as much as we were. The lineman couldn't contain his awe. “DAMN COACH! You gotta show us, Coach.” “Show you what?” Coach cockily grinned. The lineman replied, “C'mon Coach! You know what we want to see. Especially at your new size. Let's see 'em!” My teammates were now hooting and hollering up to our leader, showering him with encouragement. The giant man at the front of the room gave us a sheepishly look. “Alright men, let's go out there and have a great practice today. Work your little asses off, give me everything you've got. WE ARE THE BILTHOFF BRUTES!” Coach quickly brought up with arms into the most gargantuam double-biceps pose in the world. The sleeves of his strained shirt retreated upwards into the gap between the peaks of the muscle and his boulder like deltoids. At his new size his there was no doubt he had the biggest, buffest arms on the planet. We knew it was going to be a great practice. ************************************************ Hope you like!

Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12823-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-5/ Sorry for the slow continuation, summer is a busy time! Chapter 6: The Press The next morning my buddies and I gathered with interest around our computers to watch Coach's first press conference since he grew to gigantic proportions. Normally these pre-game press conferences were fairly bland. Lot's of boring discussion full of coach-speak on how we will stop our opponent's offense and break through their defense, along with updates on the health of the players. However, obviously today would be very different. The live stream cut in and loud buzz could be heard. Obviously there were far more reporters there than usual as word had leaked out that something extraordinary had happened to our captain. Instead of taking place in the media room in the athletic offices, in which Coach would obviously not fit, the feed kicked on showing the field house. In the background I could make out Coach's living corner, complete with crude, gigantic wooden benches and a bunch of mattresses spread out on the ground. After a couple of minutes the Dean walked up to the podium and began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us. As many of you know, there was an accident on campus earlier this week in the physic lab. Thankfully there were no major injuries but one of our staff was affected by the incident. As I'm sure many of you heard that person was our beloved Coach Wood. I can assure everyone that Mr. Wood is in fine condition...” the Dean paused before continuing “...in fact, he may be in better condition than anyone. Before we bring him in to speak with you I have invited the head of the physics department, Dr. Phillip Martin, to explain the situation in more detail. Dr. Martin if you would.” Dr. Martin made his way up to the podium and explained what happened to the best of his knowledge. He started off explaining how a crossed electrical wire sparked a small fire and an explosion. He continued explaining, “...during the small explosion which severely damaged much of our equipment, our prototype ionic photon accelerator beam escaped containment. The beam itself is invisible to the naked eye and so Mr. Wood unknowingly stumbled into the path of the beam as he was rushing to our aid after the explosion. I witnessed Mr. Wood fall to the floor unconsciously as soon as he cross into the beam. Thankfully we were able to shutdown the beam immediately and administer to Mr. Wood. He regained consciousness very quickly and seemed to be fine. As you all know he was taken to the hospital as a precaution. Several reporters' hands flew up and they began to shout questions. “What were the effects of the energy beam?” “Is Mr. Wood going to be able to coach the team on Saturday?” “Is there any danger to any of the players?” Dr. Martin raised his arms to indicate he was requesting silence. Once the room had settled enough Dr. Martin spoke again, “The Dean has only brought me here to discuss the accident. I will answer your questions as best as I can. As far as I can tell there is no imminent danger to Mr. Wood or his players. The effects of the energy beam were...extraordinary. We would have surmised that the the energy beam contacting most humans would have been fatal, yet it seems Mr. Woods' body was able to absorb the energy and convert it into normal human tissues. I surmise it was because of Coach Woods' exemplary physical development and strength that he was able to not only withstand the bombardment of energy particles but be able to make use that energy.” Once again the crowd of reporters erupted raising their hands and shouting out questions. “How was Mr. Wood able to use the energy?” “Is the physical threat to Mr. Wood over?” “Please, Mr. Martin, we have reports that Mr. Wood has grown to double his size. Is that true?” Dr. Martin looked over at the Dean who then nodded back to him. “Well, ladies and gentlemen perhaps its best if we allow you to speak with Coach Wood directly. Dr. Martin turned around and looked back toward the garage door at the end of the field house. A roaring silence emanated from the anxious crowd as the camera panned the side to frame the 40 ft. garage door. And then it happened. A titanic figured appeared behind the door, almost as wide as the opening itself and obviously taller. Coach ducked slightly down, his handsome grinning face blessing the crowd of reporter ahead and far, far below him. Gasps and whispers erupted from those in attendance. Coached ducked, stepped through the down and rose up to his full, proud 50 ft. height. He was wearing a huge blue tank top, obviously the theatre costume department had been able to whip something together for him. Even so, there has no hiding his overdeveloped musculature. Technically, the tank would pass as a shirt, but his pecs were so wide his nipples extended past the fabric and were exposed. About the only thing the giant loose tank hid were his rock hard abs. It reminded me of one of those stringer tanks you sometimes see the pro-bodybuilders wearing. And truthfully that's what our football coach looked like: A colossal, off-season, un-shaven professional bodybuilder. His shorts, socks, shoes, baseball cap and whistle still were holding strong, having grown with him. I suspected he wanted to keep these items on as much as he could in case he grew again. Coach continued to smirk down at the awestruck crowd as he slowly sauntered forward. Even on camera I noticed a handful the reporters get up and walk away and he walked toward them, obviously fearing the brutish giant. Coach reached the podium and stood there, letting the crowd and the world take him in, knowing his masculine superiority could never be more evident. Eventually he spoke. “I WOULD CROUCH DOWN AND USE THE MICROPHONE BUT I'M SURE YOU CAN ALL HERE ME JUST FINE WITH MY BOOMING VOICE.” He joked, but could still sense the tension in among the crowd. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET ME ASSURE YOU THAT YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR. I KNOW I WILL HAVE TO BE CAREFUL AT TIMES BUT I HAVE NO INTENTION OF HURTING ANYBODY. I'M STILL THE SAME 'OLE BALL COACH YOU HAVE INTERVIEWED BEFORE, I'M JUST BIGGER,” Coach chuckled and quickly brought up his naked arms into a quick biceps pose. “I DO APOLOGIZE FOR BEING A BIG UNDER DRESSED. IT'S A GOOD THING I'VE GOT NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF, BECAUSE AS YOU CAN GUESS CLOTHING HAS BECOME A PROBLEM.” Coach grinned down at crowed again, “NOT TO SOUND ARROGANT BUT I DON'T THINK ANYBODY WILL HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME SHOWING SOME SKIN EITHER, HEH HEH.” He then crouched down gave the crowd a quick crab pose, all this muscles exploding in sinewy vascularity. He relaxed the pose, smiled warmly and spoke, "WELL DON'T BE SHY, THIS IS A PRESS CONFERENCE. FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS." Finally the crowd began to relax and began to engage him. “Are you still growing?” one reporter asked. Coach glanced down at Dr. Martin and shrugged his massive shoulders. Dr. Martin stepped up to the podium right in front of the coach. The camera zoomed in to Dr. Martin as he spoke who was completely dwarfed by two muscular calf muscles flanking him on each side. “I'm strictly working off of conjecture here, but I believe the beam that struck Mr. Wood altered his physiology to be able to absorb energy from outside sources rather than simply ingesting sustenance, or eating and drinking. I believe Coach Wood's growth has been contingent on the amount of energy his body has absorbed. He grown twice now, first to approximately 25 ft and now to nearly 50 ft.” Gasps again erupted from the crowd as they learned Coach's staggering height. The doc continued, “Coach grew during the end of his football practices. From what I understand he was shirtless both times. Since it was been especially hot this week, I believe Coach Wood's body was able to absorb energy from the sun's rays. When he exercised via push-ups at the end of the practice after soaking in the sun's energy, that extra internal effort was the catalyst for the energy to be transformed into bodily mass, thus causing him to grow.” “But is Mr. Wood still growing!!” one of the reporters jumped up and repeated. “The good new is that every time Mr. Wood grows he will then require more energy for that growth to manifest itself again. Based on the square-cube law and my calculations, Coach Wood has grown so much that he would have to lay outside and bathe in the sun for four to six days straight to absorb enough energy to grow again.” A relieved sigh could be heard from the collective crowd. The camera had zoomed out again to capture most of the coach in view, and he clearly smirked when the crowd learned it was unlikely he would get bigger. “It would take a tremendous amount of energy for Mr. Wood to grow again. He will continue to absorb energy from the sun and various microwaves that permeate our existence but are invisible to the naked eye, but the majority of that energy he will expel through normal activity.” Coach then looked down and added, “ALTHOUGH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DR. MARTIN AND I BELIEVE SOME OF THAT ENERGY IS STILL BEING TRANSFORMED INTO BODILY MASS. I KNOW MY BODY VERY WELL AND I CAN TELL THAT I AM SLIGHTLY MORE MUSCULAR SINCE I'VE STARTED GROWING.” To demonstrate, Coach looked down at his legs, pointed his feet outward and FLEXED his quads, filling his shorts to the bursting point with giant, dense leg muscle. “THESE SHORTS WERE SLIGHTLY LOOSE A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, AND NOW MY LEG MUSCLES ARE ABOUT TO TEAR THEM OFF. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF MY LEG MUSCLES!” Coach cockily grinned and scanned the awestruck crowd who were staring at his freaky legs causing the shorts fabric to be taught, which had the double effect of accentuating his bulge. The female reporters swooned and the men had never felt so insignificant and out-manned in their lives. Coach then stood back up to his full height and brought one arm up into a triumphant single biceps pose. He smiled at the enormous ball of muscle peaking toward the ceiling. “I KNOW MY BICEPS WERE ALREADY MASSIVE, EVEN WHEN I WAS A SHORT GUY AT JUST 6 FT 6, BUT I CAN TELL MY ARMS ARE JUST SLIGHTLY BIGGER, MORE DEFINED AND HARDER!” Coach reached his opposite hand up and proudly rubbed the inhuman ball of muscle, grinning happily the whole time. “Where did you find clothes to fit your giant frame, Mr. Wood!?” another male reporter shouted up to him from far below. Coach relaxed his pose and made eye contact with the reporter. “WE'VE DISCOVERED THAT MY CLOTHES ONLY GROW WITH ME WHEN I'M WEARING THEM, SO I SHOULD PROBABLY STOP FLEXING MY MASSIVE THIGHS TO KEEP THESE SHORTS INTACT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. I ALREADY LOST MY SHIRT, BUT THE THEATRE DEPARTMENT HAS STEPPED UP AND CREATED THIS TINY TANK TOP FOR ME. WE SINCERELY APPRECIATE THEIR EFFORTS IN HELPING KEEP ME CLOTHED." Dr. Martin spoke into the microphone once again. “We aren't completely sure the mechanisms for why the Coach's clothes grew with him. Perhaps the close proximity or even his sweat permeating his clothes is what allowed them to grow as well. Frankly, this is completely uncharted territory and we are very much learning as we go. Thankfully Coach Wood has been very cooperative in letting us monitor him.” “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IS SPECTACULAR, BUT LET'S TRY TO REMEMBER THERE IS A FOOTBALL GAME ON SATURDAY,” he spoke, now trying to steer the conversation toward the team. It was a valiant effort, but I suspected it wouldn't last long. A few the area sports reporters were able to refocus and began asking the normal questions on the health of the team. Such as which players to watch for, who's injured, etc. I was thrilled when he mentioned me, “I THINK EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE SURPRISED BY MASON JACKSON, A FRESHMEN CORNERBACK. I THINK HE'S GOING TO BE VERY SPECIAL IN THE YEARS TO COME, POTENTIALLY EVEN AND NFL PLAYER.” I was floored when he said this, did I really have that much potential? Soon another reporter asked, “Mr. Wood, will you be coaching from the sideline this weekend?” “OF COURSE I WILL, WHY WOULDN'T I?” The little reporter seems to shirk in fear at seemingly being rebuked. He added, “Well, Sir, I was just wondering if you still even fit in the coach's box on the side of the field and I-” He stammered before smiled and cut him off. “OH YES I SEE. YES, LITTLE MAN, I WILL BE ABLE TO FIT IN THE COACH'S BOX. ALSO, WE HAVE VERIFIED WITH THE NCAA THAT I WILL NOT BE BREAKING ANY RULES BY BEING SO...MASSIVE. IN FACT IT WILL BE A BIT OF HINDRANCE FOR OUR TEAM. MY VOICE IS SO LOUD AND BOOMING IT WILL BE DIFFICULT TO COMMUNICATE WITHOUT ALLOWING THE OPPOSING COACHES TO HEAR. THANKFULLY, WE DO USE MANY HAND SIGNALS. BUT, OUR AUDIO DEPARTMENT IS ALSO WORKING ON A MICROPHONE THAT I CAN WEAR AND WHISPER INTO.” Coach then looked right at the tiny camera at the back of the room and addressed the team's fans. “I'M ASKING OUR FANS TO BE LOUDER THAN EVER TO HELP MASK MY CONVERSATIONS WITH MY FELLOW COACHES AND PLAYERS! HELP US OUT, BRUTE NATION!” Coach punctuated this statement with a colossal most-muscular pose, filling the frame of the camera shot with huge manly muscle. “I DO FEEL SORRY FOR THE FANS WHO HAVE SEATS BEING ME. MY ENORMOUSLY WIDE BACK MUSCLES ARE PROBABLY GOING TO BLOCK MUCH OF THE VIEW OF THE FIELD. I WILL TRY TO STAND IN DIFFERENT LOCATIONS DURING THE GAME IN AN EFFORT TO ALLOW EVERYONE BEING TO SEE AS MUCH OF THE GAME AS THEY CAN.” Of course this action once again steered the questions toward Coach's development. Another reporter, whom I instantly recognized as the weaselly man from the Channel 11 news, the one who had been bothering me and my teammates, Chet Howard, spoke up, “Just how strong are you, Mr. Wood. Do you think you might be a danger to society?” Coach spotted the little man who asked him the question. He had his hands on his hips in a powerful relaxed pose. The side of his mouth curled up into a half grin. “I WILL NOT BE A PROBLEM, BUT I WILL DEFEND MYSELF AND MY PLAYERS. BUT, TELL YOU WHAT, MR. HOWARD, WHY DON'T YOU FOLLOW ME OUTSIDE AND I'LL WILL SHOW YOU HOW POWERFUL I AM.” Coach then stepped around the podium and slowly sauntered to the opposite end of the field house. I noticed a reporter near the edge of he crowd, close to where Coach was walking, shifting nervously in his chair as our captain's massive sneakers planted on the ground next to him. The camera shifted over to view Coach Wood smirking down across his shoulder at the nervous crowd far below. Once he had passed the crowd and was out of the view the reporters themselves then got up and followed after him. The camera field we were watching was suddenly cut off. My roommate flipped on the local Channel 11 news who also had a live feed running via a shoulder-mounted camera, so we began watching that. The camera turned on to see coach bending over to step outside on the end of he field house that faced the street. The man holding the camera followed and stepped outside into the bright air. Once it had refocused we saw Coach standing on the grass between the field house and the street lined with news vans with his hands on his hips, watching as his little subjects stream outside to watch the events unfold. “I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A STRONG MAN, BUT NOW I'D WOULD SAY THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR, DON'T YOU ALL THINK?” Our leader surveyed the intrigued and nervous crowd below. He picked out and pointed to a reporter. A beautiful, blonde, busty woman that I recognized from the Channel 13 news. “YOU. MS. KING OF 13 NEWS...” Coach winked at her and I suspected that he had previously fooled around with, probably often based on how gorgeous she was. “...WOULD YOU MIND HELPING ME DEMONSTRATE MY STRENGTH?” Vanessa King, the lead reporter at Channel 13, looked around nervously. She was biting her lip, obviously conflicted between her fear and intense lust she was feeling for the sexiest, biggest man on the planet. I wondered if she was also nervous that others might find out that she and coach had been together and jeopardizing her journalistic integrity. Perhaps, though, that was why coach picked her out because he knew she would trust him. She looked up at Coach Wood's hot masculine face, composed herself and stepped forward, standing barely shin high to the huge muscle man in front of her. “Sure, Mr. Wood. How may I help you?” Coach grinned, leaned forward and squatted down. “MISS, IF YOU DON'T MIND I AM GOING TO PICK YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. I PROMISE I WILL BE GENTLE.” I imagine Coach had told her that before in the bedroom before plowing her with the biggest cock she would ever have. Vanessa lifted her arms and Coach reached forward and wrapped his thigh-sized fingers around her torso and slowly lifted her into the air and stood up to chest level. “AND YOU ARE LIGHT AS A FEATHER TO ME, MS. KING. I CAN SEE YOU LOOK NERVOUS.” Coach then softened his voice as much as he could and spoke directly to her, “THERE IS NO REASON TO BE NERVOUS, VANESSA. YOU ARE IN THE SAFEST HANDS IN THE WORLD. WITH ME PROTECTING YOU, NOTHING BAD COULD HAPPEN TO YOUR RIGHT NOW.” With Coach lowering his voice his words came even more sultrily and sexily than anyone could imagine. There was an audible female groan from the other reporters and they absorbed his low rumbling, protective words. Any of the other female reporters would've given anything to switch places with Vanessa King at that moment. Vanessa was breathing heavily but it wasn't from fear so much as lust. Coach knew the effect he had on women and he smirked sexily down at the tiny voluptuous woman in his hand. “AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM MUCH STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL AND THAN ANY OTHER HUMAN ON THE PLANET, AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE.” Coach flexed his biceps with his opposite arm and the enormous split peak erupted upwards, stretching his skin. “WOULD YOU LIKE COP A FEEL, MA'AM?” Vanessa eyeballed the biceps muscle up and to her left. A muscle so big she could practically live inside it. “Um...yes, sure Coach Wood,” she replied. “OK. JUST REMEMBER I WON'T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU.” Coach then raised up the excited reporter and set her down on his biceps! She sat with her butt on the peak and her legs dangling over toward the front. “SEE! I AM SO BIG AND MUSCULAR THAT YOU HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE UP THERE, MISS!” “Oh my, yes, Mr. Wood. You are certainly an impressive man. Your biceps feel like warm stone underneath me!” We could see that Ms. King was shivering, either from excitement, lust, or a fear of heights, possibly all three. “OK, THANK YOU MS. WOOD. I WILL SET YOU BACK DOWN NOW. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME.” “Oh, it was my utmost pleasure!” Vanessa replied excitedly as Coach gently grabbed and set her back on the ground. “SINCE THAT WAS SO, EASY, I DON'T THINK THAT WAS THE BEST DISPLAY HOW TRULY STRONG I AM.” Coach then turned and stepped over toward the street, leaned down and gingerly picked up a news van! He put one hand on the front and one on the back and lifted it up to chest level. We could see was the Action 5 news van. The crowd gasped at his display of power. “AND MAKE NO MISTAKE, THIS LITTLE VEHICLE HERE IS LIGHT. IT FEELS LIKE I'M LIFTING UP A TOASTER. IN FACT WATCH THIS.” Coach then shifted one hand under the van and rested the toy-like vehicle on this palm. He was holding it now with just one hand! While it was still light for him, the weight of the van caused the sinews of his deltoid to erupt in further relief, Meanwhile, he grinned cockily and brought is free hand up into a single-arm biceps pose. The awestruck reporters were beside themselves. “DOES THIS GIVE YOU LITTLE PEOPLE SOME IDEA OF HOW POWERFUL I AM. LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT MY ENORMOUS BICEPS MUSCLE AND AS I HOLD ONE OF YOUR TINY VEHICLES IN MY OTHER HAND!” Coach then began raising and lowering the news van up and down above his shoulder as if it was a light dumbbell. “I COULDN'T EVEN GET MUCH OF PUMP FROM LIFTING THIS SMALL VAN, HAHA,” Coach chuckled. “DOES THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION OF HOW POWERFUL I AM, CHET?” Coach glared at Mr. Howard, who gulped at being spotted and addressed once again. I then noticed, even through the camera feed, what seemed to be an evil glint in Coach's eye. He motioned to set the Action 5 news van back down, next to Chet's Channel 11 news van. As he stepped over to the street, vehicle in hand, Coach kept his eyes on Chet and spoke. “I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING OUT TO DISCUSS THE RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WITH MYSELF AND THE TEAM...” Coach spoke, eyes still locked on the Chet, not watching where we was stepping. Then it happened. As he stepped over the empty car space his foot came crashing down on the Channel 11 news van! The sneaker easily crumpled the roof of the van down to its chassis. As more of Coach's muscular weight bore down the tires popped and gave way as more the metallic vehicle was smashed to the street. A horrendous sound of broken glass and twisting metal pierced the warm summer afternoon. Some in the crowd shrieked. Coach quickly lifted his foot up and metalic debris fell from the treads of his sneakers. He set his foot back down on the grass. He quickly then set down the un-damaged Action 5 van. “OH MY GOODNESS, I AM SO SORRY. I GUESS I SHOULD'VE BEEN WATCHING WHERE I STEP. WHEN YOU ARE A HUGE MUSCULAR GIANT LIKE MYSELF I GUESS I WILL HAVE TO BE MORE CAREFUL AROUND YOU TINY PEOPLE AND YOUR TOYS!” Coach found Chet again in the nervous crowd and addressed him, with a slight sneer. “I AM SO SORRY MR. HOWARD. YOU CAN SPEAK WITH DEAN WHO WILL REIMBURSE YOU FOR THE DAMAGES. I DOUBT YOUR INSURANCE COVERS YOUR CAR GETTING STEPPED ON BY A GIGANTIC FOOTBALL COACH, HAHA!” Chet nervously nodded his head up to the giant masculine man. We all knew it and few in the crowd who new of Chet's methods did as well, but Coach was clearly punishing Chet for bothering his players. All reporters made instant notes not to cross Coach or his players. “WELL THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING.” Coach's face and tone then turned stern. “NOW, I HAVE TO ASK THAT YOU ALL LEAVE MY PLAYERS ALONE. WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH THEM. DO NOT BOTHER MY PLAYERS, THEY NEED TO FOCUS ON SCHOOL AND OUR UPCOMING GAME. IF YOU WANT TO SPEAK WITH ME MORE YOU CAN TALK TO THE DEAN AND MAYBE WE CAN SET UP SOME INTERVIEWS.” The crowd of reporters then erupted again, shouting out questions at the titanic man. Coach simply smiled warmly and raised his hands to quite the crowd, which instantly complied. “THANK YOU ALL AGAIN. I HOPE YOU WILL COME OUT TO CHEER ON OUR TEAM AT OUR GAME ON SATURDAY.” Coach then stepped around the group of action figure sized people, leaned over into the field house and shut the garage door. The feed cut off and we wondered where things would go from there.

Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ Chapter 5: Bathtub We filed out the stadium and into the locker room to shower and change into our weightlifting outfits. I was still speechless. Coach was huge at just 25 ft tall, but now at 50 ft he was downright monstrous. Would he even be able to fit inside the weight room? And how would he get around do anything? He could still fit inside the practice field, which thankfully was something like 100 ft tall, but right now he was pretty much banished from ever being inside a normal building ever again. I wondered if the physic professor was working on a way t reverse the growth and bring him back down to human size level. As I though about this an interesting though crept into the back of mind: Would Coach or I even WANT that? One of my questions was answered about and hour later in the weight room. Coach had somehow squeezed inside the big garage door and was sitting on his butt in the corner. I notice a few weight machines were crumpled by his side. I deduced that he had simply pushed some of the massive steel apparatus to the side as easily as brushing a couple of books off your desk. These were weights that we all struggled to squat and deadlift, and to him the plates were nothing more than vanilla wafers. He had pushed the equipment aside to make space to sit without demolishing the roof. There was no way he could stand up in here and he absolutely owned the corner the huge room with his muscled frame. He commanded, “ALL RIGHT BOYS, AS YOU CAN SEE I CAN JUST STILL FIT IN HERE. I'M WATCHING YOU ALL SO YOU BETTER GIVE ME 110% ON ALL YOUR LIFTS! GOT IT?'' We all nodded. “GOOD. I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO SPOT YOU ANYMORE BUT HELP EACH OTHER OUT! GET TO IT MY LITTLE BRUTES!!” Per his command we proceeded with our lifting session. By chance I ended up at the squat rack that was closest to Coach, thus he had his eye on me the whole time, booming down pointers. While squatting he corrected my form. “JACKSON, WHILE YOU ARE SQUATTING MAKE SURE YOU KEEP YOUR CHEST PUFFED OUT AND LOOK UPWARDS. THAT WILL KEEP YOUR BACK STRAIGHT...LIKE THIS,” While still sitting, he arched his back made his gigantic pecs leap to attention as he thrust his chest forward. His pec shelf heaved upward, becoming a full awning of pure muscle hanging over his brick covered muscle gut. “YOU REALLY WANT TO PUSH YOUR CHEST OUT. PRETEND YOU'VE YOU GOT PECS LIKE I DO AND YOU REALLY WANT TO SHOW THEM OFF! HAHA!” He chuckled and I joined him. “Will do Coach. I dream of having some huge pecs like you someday!” “YOU KEEP WORKING HARD, JACKSON AND YOU JUST MIGHT!” Coach extended his arms and brought his hands together, squeezing his pecs and making them bunch up toward his chin again. He was looking down at them, admiring his own size and power. I took his advice and began squatting with my form corrected. I arched my back, puffed out my chest, and made sure to look upward as I performed the movement. Through looking upward into the mirror in front of me, I could Coach's handsome face watching me intently. Knowing he was watching and motivating me on, I set a new personal best that day! Not only on the amount of weight I squatted but in the number of reps! As I racked the weight I turned around and nearly fell to the floor due to the pump in my legs. “GREAT JOB JACKSON! YOU ROCKED THAT SET, LITTLE MAN! YOUR CHEST LOOKED HUGE AS YOU WERE SQUATTING, PERFECT FORM!” I was relishing the big man's praise. There is nothing more satisfying than pleasing your giant, muscled football coach with your effort. I beamed up at him. “Thanks, Coach! You mean this chest! GRRRR!!!” In jest I brought my fists together and made a crab pose at coach. He lit up, entertained by my display. “YEAH JACKSON! DAMN, MY LITTLE BRUTE, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LOOK SMALL SOON! GRRRR!” Coach brought his fists together and made a crab pose himself, completely demolishing my pose, but all in good fun. “JACKSON, WE ARE PRACTICALLY TWINS WITH OUR HUGE MUSCLES, AREN'T WE!” “Hell yeah, Coach! Two huge muscle Brutes!” Both Coach and I laughed uproariously. He was not only a fantastic leader and motivator, but was just such a pleasure to be around all the time. “GREAT WORKOUT MEN. NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME I HAVE TO HEAD BACK TO THE FIELD HOUSE TO TALK WITH THE DEAN. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, MY NEW SIZE IS GOING TO BRING ON SOME NEW CHALLENGES. NOT ONLY FOR ME, BUT THE SCHOOL AS WELL. WE WILL BE HAVING A TEAM MEETING IN THERE AT 7:30PM SHARP! SEE YOU ALL THERE.” With that, we opened the garage door for him. Our captain then got on his hands and knees and crawled through the opening like a child squeezing through a dog door, giving us a shot of his gigantic muscled ass stretching his gym shorts to the limit. We broke from our lifting session and showered. I headed out for the one late afternoon class I had that day. On the way I was again approached by a reporter. I recognized him as one of the TV anchors from the channel 11 news. “Excuse me, could I talk to you? Would you mind providing us with some insight on the situation with your coach?” “I'm late for class, I really can't talk.” He again stepped in front of me. “If I could just speak to your for 5 minutes I...” “EXCUSE ME SIR!” I said with irritation. I sidestepped him and hustled to class, leaving him muttering at me as I quickly walked away. Later that evening, I had finished my homework and then dinner early so I walked over to the field house about 20 minutes early. I stepped in inside the cavernous room and saw Coach standing over a tiny looking man in a brown suit. As I got closer I realized it was the dean. Coach saw me and waved me over as he continued his conversation. “...and we have some contractors already working on putting together some new furniture for you, Mr. Wood. We certainly are doing our best to make your comfortable. Some more mattresses will be delivered later this evening to give you at least some sort of comfortable sleeping space. I've also enlisted some help from the theatre department to come with some more clothes. I understand you have been wearing the same clothes for the last three days.” “THANK YOU DEAN. IT WOULD BE GOOD TO GET SOME SPARE CLOTHES. AS ACTIVE AS I AM, I AM AFRAID I AM GOING TO BUST OUT OF THESE CLOTHES AT ANY MOMENT. I THINK I MAY ACTUALLY BE GETTING SLIGHTLY MORE MUSCULAR AS I GROW. THESE SHORTS AND SHOES HAVE NEVER FELT SO TIGHT.” Coach put one leg out in front of him and FLEXED the massive quadriceps, filling the shorts legs to their bursting point. “MY LEGS ARE LOOKING PRETTY MASSIVE, AREN'T THEY, LITTLE DEAN?” Coach grinned, fishing for praise and having some fun with his supposed 'superior'. “Ye...yes, Mr. Wood. Your development is quite remarkable.” I notice the Dean seemed to be holding his hand together in front of him. I correctly guessed he was trying to hide his arousal at the site of the giant shirtless muscle hunk in front of him. One the Dean had calmed himself, he changed the subject. “Also, Mr. Wood, as I'm sure you are aware it is getting increasing difficult to hide a man of your stature. News has already leaked out that you have grown. We will obviously need to address this.” I piped up, “Yeah, Coach. Me and bunch of the guys keep getting headed off by reporters anytime we trek across campus.” Coach Wood's face scrunched in disapproval as I said this. “Yes, I've heard that as well,” the Dean added. “So, Mr. Wood, normally your pre-game press conference would be on Friday. I suggest we move it to tomorrow morning and then you can address the press as well.” The Dean meagerly looked way up to Coach who had now crossed his arms which only made him look more intimidating. “That is...um...if it's OK with your, Coach, sir.” I chuckled a bit to myself. Here was the Dean, perhaps the only man who previously had power over Coach, and here we was groveling like the a beta male. Coach smirked down at the Dean. He uncrossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders, putting the Dean at ease. “I SUPPOSE, LITTLE MAN. HELL, I'M SO DAMN BIG IT'S PROBABLY BETTER TO GET THIS OUT IN THE OPEN. ESPECIALLY IF THOSE REPORTERS KEEP MESSING WITH MY PLAYERS. THAT WILL END AFTER TOMORROW MORNING.” Coach said this last part with an aggression that even made me nervous. “SO WE'LL HAVE THE PRESS CONFERENCE AT 9:00AM TOMORROW MORNING, IN HERE. THIS IS THE ONLY BUILDING THAT CAN FIT THIS HUGE BRUTE BODY.” He quickly brought his arms up into a double-biceps pose, grinning smugly at the Dean who once again was futility trying to cover up his small tenting crotch. By now, other players were beginning to file into the practice field. “NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, DEAN, I HAVE A PLAYERS' MEETING TO RUN. THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD NIGHT.” The rest of the meeting went as typical. Well, as typical as it could with a giant booming head coach leading the discussion. About an hour later we had finished and were dismissed. However, as the older players were filing out Coach singled me out and requested I come back to see him in about two hours. I wondered what for as I headed back to the my room. Two hours later I found myself back in the field house. As Coach saw me enter he waved me over to his little living space. The carpenters had indeed brought him some crude furniture. A huge bench to act as a chair, a couple of standing shelves, and even a small (to him) desk. As I neared he got off his bench and planted his big bulging ass on the turf with a loud thud. “I THOUGHT I'D TRY TO BRING MYSELF CLOSER TO YOUR LEVEL TO TALK. I'M SORRY THAT YOU HAVE TO LOOK UP SO FAR AT ME WHEN I SPEAK. IT'S JUST THAT YOU GUYS ARE SO LITTLE COMPARED TO ME. MAN, I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS EVER THAT SMALL. EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONLY BEEN A COUPLE OF DAYS I FEEL LIKE I'VE BEEN A GIANT FOREVER. AND...TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I LOVE IT!” Even at his lowered level he still towered over me. “Well, Coach, you've always been a really big guy, even at your normal size, so you sort of have always been a giant. You've always been bigger, taller, stronger, more powerful than most people so what you are feeling is completely natural, just on an exaggerated level.” “I SUPPOSE YOU'RE RIGHT, JACKSON. THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU AND I RECRUITED YOU. YOU'VE GOT ONE OF THE BETTER HEAD'S ON YOU TO GO WITH YOUR ATHLETIC SKILL, MAKES YOU A TRUE ASSET TO MY TEAM.” I couldn't help but blush a bit as he complimented me. “BUT, I HAD YOU STAY BEHIND BECAUSE I NEED HELP. SINCE I GREW AGAIN TAKING A SHOWER IS OUT OF THE QUESTION. I'M SURE YOU CAN TELL I'M SMELLING A BIT RIPE.” I could tell. All the team could. At his new size, Coach's musky essence, a combination of testosterone, sweat, bar soap and deodorant was impossible to miss. I washed over us as soon as we walked into the field house. But it wasn't a gross smell. It was the smell of a true man. A powerful, masculine, alpha male. It suited him perfectly. Coach continued, “I WAS HOPING YOU COULD HELP ME SNEAK OVER TO THE CAMPUS POOL. I NEED TO WASH BUT I DON'T EXACTLY FIT IN A BATHROOM ANYMORE.” I nodded my head. That was the understatement of the year. Coach went on to explain the plan. The field house was only about a block away from the campus pool. It was now 10:30pm and the pool had been closed for about 30 minutes. Luckily the pool was in the back of the rec center nestled in the corner of two large gymnasiums which had no windows. Unless someone went out of their way to specifically look at the pool we should have complete privacy. “Ok Coach I can stand lookout for you.” Coach thanked me and began shucking off his clothes, again giving me a glimpse of his gargantuan dick. He wrapped a sheet around his waist like he did last night and grabbed a couple more sheets to act as towels. I raised the garage door to the field house and looked outside in the night air. No one was in sight. I ventured out about 50 yards, looked around and saw nobody. I waved Coach out. He bear-crawled out of the garage and stood up to his full height and look around himself, spotting no one. Luckily the field house and the gyms were all tall enough that no one would be able to spot his towering head from the main road on the other side of the building. I played the lookout as we made our way to the pool. As he casually walked toward me he looked like a Olympian god with his toga sheet hanging around his waist, all huge and muscled and lit up by the light posts. A couple of minutes later we were at the chain link fence surrounding the pool. “How are we going to get in?” Coach just chuckled and gingerly stepped over the fence as easily as I would be able to step over a felled log. I felt really stupid as he did so, smirking down at me as he easily stepped into the pool area. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE SMART ONE OF THE TEAM?” Coach joked. “But how am I going to get insi-” Before I could finish Coach reached down over the fence with his brawny arms and wrapped his enormous hands around my waist. His fingers easily met as he encircled my torso. Stunned, I felt my feet leave the ground as I rocketed up to 40 ft above ground. I gasped as I felt like I was on a carnival ride. I instinctively grabbed onto the his enormous hands. “EASY LITTLE GUY. I AIN'T GONNA DROP YOU.” Coach held me at arms length right in from of his massive heaving pectorals. “I COULD EASILY HOLD YOU WITH JUST ONE HAND, BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO FREAK YOU OUT TOO MUCH.” “Than...thanks, Coach,” I stated warily. Regardless of being in possession of the biggest, strongest man in history, it was still natural to realize you are hanging 40 ft above the ground. As I stared up at his big handsome face though, I began to relax, which he noticed. “THERE 'YA GO. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT WHEN YOUR BIG BRUTE COACH HAS A HOLD YOU. YOU ARE PROBABLY IN ONE OF THE SAFEST PLACES ON EARTH RIGHT NOW, WITH ALL THIS MUSCLE PROTECTING YOU,” Coach emphasized this point by bouncing his titanic pecs right in front of me. It was mesmerizing to watch the mattress-sized slabs of muscle tighten into a hundred individual fibers, then rise and fall as he demonstrated his expert muscle control. “ALRIGHT I SUPPOSE I SHOULD PUT YOU DOWN. ALTHOUGH I COULD HOLD YOU FOREVER. YOU FEEL LIGHT AS A FEATHER TO A BIG MAN LIKE ME!” Coach set me back on the ground. He then whipped off his sheet, once again exposing his colossal manhood to me. I feel my own dick and balls shrivel up a bit due to the totally emasculating size difference. Coach the gingerly stepped into the 5 ft deep section of the pool. The water barely covered his ankles. The deepest part of the pool was 12 feet deep, which would be about the same depth as a bathtub to a normal sized human. Coach then sat down with his ass in the deepest part of the pool. As he sat the pool water surged upward and overflowed the pool, soaking my feet. Luckily, he set his towels/sheets on the lifeguard chair so they remained dry. Coached leaned back against the deep-end wall, his legs extending half way toward the shallow end, and sighed in relief. “AWWWW. THAT FEELS SO GOOD LITTLE BUDDY. I DON'T MIND BEING SWEATY BUT AFTER TWO DAYS IT'S NICE TO RINSE OFF. PROBABLY GOOD FOR EVERYBODY AROUND ME TOO, HAHA.” Even though he didn't have any soap, he reached over and grabbed his toga sheet and proceeded to scrub up and down his body with it. He leaned back and completely submerged his head underwater, again raising the level of the water to the very lip of the pool. “WOO LITTLE GUY. I NEEDED THIS. FEELS GOOD TO BE CLEAN AND TO JUST COOL OFF A BIT. TOO BAD I'M SO HUGE OR I WOULD DO SOME LAPS. I LOVE SWIMMING, IT'S A GREAT WORKOUT. HOW ABOUT YOU, JACKSON?” I stood on the side of the pool near the deep-end and as we conversed. “Oh yeah, Coach. I love swimming too. I was a lifeguard in high school.” “WELL I GUESS I'M IN NO DANGER TO DROWN WITH YOU HERE THEN, RIGHT?” He chuckled at his joke. “SAY IF YOU LOVE SWIMMING SO MUCH, WHY DON'T YOU JOIN ME?” “Oh no, Coach. I'm keeping watch, I couldn't possibly-” He suddenly shot out his long arm, reached behind me and pulled me forward into the pool, gym clothes and all. I came back up to the surface spitting and sputtering. “Hey!” “HAHA! RELAX JACKSON, WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF MEN ENJOYING THE POOL. I KNEW YOU'D BE APPREHENSIVE SO I THOUGH YOU COULD USE A NUDGE.” “A nudge? I don't think you are capable of nudges, any more, Coach!” Coach laughed again as I hauled myself up onto the ledge of the pool. “WELL, YOU'RE ALREADY SOAKED, SKIM DOWN AND JOIN ME FOR A SWIM.” I began shucking off my wet clothes. Luckily I was wearing flip flops so I wouldn't have to worry about soggy shoes. I got down to my underwear and stood up to dive back in.” “COME ON, JACKSON. WE'RE ALL MEN HERE. TAKE OFF THOSE SKIVVIES, YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHING I HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE. BEEN IN LOCKER ROOMS MY ENTIRE LIFE.” I relented, slid down my boxer-briefs and stepped out of them. “THERE YA GO. NICE PACKAGE, LITTLE BRUTE. YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF IN THAT REGARD.” As he complimented me I blushed and quickly dove into the water, desperate to hide my own equipment. I resurfaced and saw Coach smiling back at me. “The water sure does feel good, Coach.” I proceeded to swim up and down the side of the pool for a few of laps, enjoying the stretch and feeling of gliding through the water. I stopped and grabbed the wall in the deep-end to rest. “I CAN TELL YOU WERE A LIFEGUARD. YOU'RE A GREAT SWIMMER. IF YOU WEREN'T SO GOOD AT FOOTBALL I'D SEND YOU OVER THE SWIMMING TEAM.” I thanked the Coach for his kudos. “I MEAN IT, JACKSON, YOU ARE NATURAL IN THE WATER. SO SMOOTH. YOUR SEXY BODY GLIDING EFFORTLESSLY THROUGH THE WATER...” “What the hell did Coach just say?” I though to myself. “Did he just call me 'sexy'?” Coach trailed off and I noticed he sighed heavily and tilted his head back. His eyes rolled up as he exhaled. I pulled myself up on the ledge of the pool and watched his mammoth chest slowly heave up and down. I noticed one of his arms was under the water down by his crotch and then I realized. Coach was totally getting off! He moaned loudly, the basso-profundo power of his voice reverberating through my own chest. Coach opened his eyes and saw me staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. His face turned red as he blushed. “SORRY JACKSON. SINCE I'VE GROWN I'VE OBVIOUSLY BECOME TOO BIG TO GET LAID. I HAVEN'T GOTTEN ANY IN FIVE DAYS NOW AND I'M PENT UP.” I sat there stunned for a couple of reasons. One, Coach was such a testosterone filled stud that he was used to getting laid within every four days or so. And with his status as a local celebrity, not to mention being one of the sexiest, most handsome, most masculine men on the planet it wasn't hard to believe that was true. The most stunning thing, though, he called me 'sexy'!! I finally found the words to speak as his giant eyes bored into my own. “Coach, you called me sexy? Are you...are you GAY?” Coach just chuckled at my question. “GAY, STRAIGHT, THEY'RE ALL JUST LABELS, JACKSON. AND A BIG, POWERFUL MAN LIKE ME JUST CONSTANTLY NEEDS TO FUCK OR ELSE I'LL GO CRAZY. DOESN'T MATTER, MEN OR WOMEN...” Coach was clearly now full on fondling himself under the water. Just a couple of moments later I couldn't believe my eyes. His hard dick began to rise out of the water! And it was HUGE! I mean, yeah it was huge because it was attached to a 50 ft tall man, but even if he were normal height his cock looked like it would be almost a foot long! I gasped when I saw it. “SORRY JACKSON I'M JUST SO AROUSED I CAN'T HELP IT. AND BEING THIS HUGE AND POWERFUL HAS ONLY BEEN MAKING ME HORNIER. I'VE GOT TO TAKE CARE OF THIS.” I watched in awe as his dick continued to inflate, bigger and bigger as he stroked himself. And it wasn't just long, it was FAT. I couldn't believe my eyes. “Holy shit, Coach. You are hung like a pornstar!” Coach grinned cockily at me, soaking in not only the pool but my praise. “THANKS LITTLE GUY. I'VE ALWAYS BEEN BLESSED IN THE SHORTS, YOU COULD SAY. IT'S A BLESSING AND A CURSE. I'VE SCARED AWAYS SEVERAL MEN AND WOMEN WHEN THEY SEE THIS MONSTER. BUT, EVEN IN THOSE SITUATIONS IT MADE ME SO HORNY TO KNOW THAT I WAS SO HUNG IT WAS SCARY, HAHA!” Coach began tweaking his nipples with one hand while stroking the fleshy tubular beast with his other. By now I too was rock hard, something that didn't go unnoticed by Coach. Coach smirked at me and asked, “WELL WELL WELL, JACKSON. DO I HAVE A LITTLE GAY BRUTE ON MY TEAM, HE HE,” he teased. “What!?!? No! I'm straight!” Truthfully I was straight. Or at least I thought I was. But there was something about watching this ultimate man in front of me play with his gargantuan muscles and dick. I don't think anybody on earth would not be aroused by what I was seeing. Mother Teresa would've been fingering herself at the sight. Coach snickered watching me panic. “I'M JUST MESSING WITH 'YA, BUDDY. AGAIN, GAY, STRAIGHT, IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME. WE'RE RED-BLOODED FOOTBALL BRUTES, WE JUST WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL, LIFT WEIGHTS, EAT AND FUCK! OOOOOOOHHH.” Coach was moaning more now as he stroked himself. He was now at full mast and it was astounding. “Jeezus, Coach! You are so...so...HUNG! How big are you?!” I couldn't help but ask. At full erection, his dick now looked to be longer and I was tall! “HE HE, YOU A LITTLE SIZE QUEEN OR SOMETHING?” I blushed red with embarrassment. “I'M JUST JOKING. EVERYBODY WHO SEES THIS WANTS TO KNOW HOW BIG IT AS. AND WHO CAN BLAME THEM! WELL, BUDDY, WHEN I WAS STILL A TINY 6 FT 6 MAN I WAS 11.5 INCHES LONG. DOING SOME QUICK MATH, AT MY NEW HEIGHT I'M...WELL-” I beat him to the punch my own calculation. “That's over SEVEN AND QUARTER FEET LONG!” I shouted. “Like, around seven feet, four inches! Holy crap!!” “OH YEAH, JACKSON. I LIKE HEARING THAT. KNOWING MY MEGA-DICK IS NOW TALLER THAN ALL BUT JUST A TINY FRACTION OF THE MEN ON EARTH. IT MAKES ME FEEL SO, SO BIG AND STRONG.” Coach was stroking faster now and he began writhing in the water, making small waves crash up against the sides of the pool. I was now full on stroking myself too on the side of the pool. “OH YEAH LITTE BRUTE. JOIN ME. IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I'VE HAD A MUTUAL JACK-OFF SESSION WITH A BUDDY!” I was stroking my own respectable 7-incher and really getting into it with Coach. I imagined him plowing some big-titted bimbo. And then I also pictured him fucking a big studly lineman. Thinking about how both the bimbo and the lineman would be crying out from being invaded by a 11.5 inch monster dick. Only now that monster dick was over 7 feet long! Coach was obviously nearing the point of no-return. “OH SHIT, JACKSON, YOU'VE GOTTA HELP ME OUT!” I wondered what he meant by that. He suddenly reach over the side of the pool and wrapped one his giant mitts around my waist, being careful not to squeeze me too hard while in his sexual frenzy. He picked me up and plopped me down on his pubic region, right at the base of his cock! His crotch was about 1 ft under the water and my feet splashed down onto his soft skin. Facing the colossal manhood in front of me, I noticed my eyes were just below the corona of his dickhead! “PLEASE HELP ME OUT JACKSON. SEEING YOUR SEXY JOCK BODY LOOK SO TINY NEXT TO MY DICK IS DRIVING ME NUTS. HELP YOUR OLD COACH OUT, STUD!” I couldn't resist him. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around the seven foot long tumescence in front of me. It was about one and half times as thick as a telephone pole. I rubbed my chest up and down the enormous log. Tracing the rolling pin-size veins that traversed up and down the shaft. “OH YEAH, JACKSON. THAT FEELS SO GOOD. USE ALL YOUR MUSCLES TO HUG AND SQUEEZE MY HUGE COACH COCK.” With Coach's encouragement I went all out. Bear hugging it as hard as I could, rubbing my entire torso up and down the huge fleshy pipe. At one point I turned around and rubbed my back and ass up and down his dick, while we stared into each others' eyes. He glazed eyes watching me lustily from over the top of this mountainous chest muscles. He smirked down at me. “YOU MIGHT WANT TO BE CAREFUL PRESSING YOUR ASS AGAINST MY DICK. I MIGHT TRY TO SHOVE IT IN YOU, LITTLE MAN.” I blanched in fear, which only made Coach chuckle. “JUST KIDDING, STUD. THOUGH I REALLY WISH I COULD RIGHT NOW. OOOOOHH. THAT FEELS SO GOOD. I'M GETTING SO CLOSE.” At this point I turned back around, re-hugged his cock and ground my own throbbing erection into his flesh. “OH YEAH, JACKSON, THOSE SQUATS ARE REALLY WORKING FOR YOU. WATCHING YOUR ASS FLEX AGAINST MY COCK IS SO HOT. AHHHH!!! ALMOST TIME, LITTLE BRUTE!” When I heard this I really poured on my stimulation. I even wrapped my arms and my right leg around the rock hard shaft. Then, as I held on as hard as I could I lifted my other leg and wrapped it around his giant cock too! My entire weight was being held up by his dick! “OH DAMN, JACKSON! MY DICK IS SO POWERFUL IT CAN HOLD UP AND ENTIRE JOCK STUD!” He reached forward and begin twisting his dickhead, his massive ripped forearms hovering above me. He then began bucking his hips, making me me rise and fall like I was a horse on a carousel. I ground my rock hard cock as hard as I could into his colossal cock and erupted with a stifled yell of my own! Not five seconds later I felt his massive dick swell, pushing my arms and legs out even further. He moaned, low and deep, trying his best to keep from drawing attention to the supposed deserted pool area. I looked up and saw a geyser of white cream shoot up from his dick as he orgasmed with the force of bundle of dynamite. The white jizz must've shot up 50 ft into the air before it began to rain down on us. A couple of huge globs fell on my shoulders, coating one half of my torso with his essence. “OOOOOOO YEAHHHHH! SO FUCKIN' POWERFUL...” Coached moaned in pleasure behind me. Seven or eight more spurts followed, each just as powerful as the first one. Coach was a complete stud. The perfect specimen of manhood. Finally, after what seemed like a full minute, Coach's eruption died down and he relaxed and sighed with a chuckle. “WOW JACKSON, THAT WAS ONE OF THE BEST JERK OFF SESSIONS I'VE EVER HAD! BEING THIS HUGE IS AWESOME. THANKS FOR HELPING ME OUT LITTLE MAN. IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ENJOYED IT AS WELL, HEH HEH.” I nodded up to Coach leaped of his pubic region and into the deep water to rinse the white slime of me. I resurfaced and swam to the side. Coach sloshed up huge waves of pool water onto his ripped, hairy torso to wash his cum off himself as well. Once he was satisfied he stood up out of the water and onto the concrete. I watched as the water level in the pool feel by 2-3 feet as he stepped out. I wondered what the lifeguards would think tomorrow when they saw the low level of the pool. There were also clumps of his white jizz floating around which I pointed out. “HM, I SUPPOSE WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT,” Coach said. He looked around and saw some 5-gallon buckets of chlorine outside of the fence. He reached over and pinched a couple the buckets and set them near. “JACKSON, WOULD YOU MIND WALKING AROUND THE POOL AND THROWING IN SOME EXTRA SCOOPS OF CHLORINE? THAT WILL HELP DISSOLVE THE EVIDENCE.” “Sure thing Coach.” I complete my task as Coach dried himself off with one of the sheets and then wrapped the other to cover himself up. My gym shorts had dried enough that I was able to wear them as we made our way back to the field house. With all of Coach's moaning and just pure size I was surprised that no one had heard or spotted us. Coach thanked me for helping him out with a sexy smile. I departed from the field house and made my way back home, excited for the what the next day might bring. ************************************************************************

Previously https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ CHAPTER 4: Double As the rest of the team headed inside the training complex, I made my way over the other side of the field to pick up coach's shirt. As I picked it up, I noticed that it didn't seem any bigger, unlike Coach. I grabbed the sweaty garment, Coach's manly sweat stench washing over me, and headed back over to Coach standing near the goal post. “Here's your shirt, Coach Wood. But I don't think it will fit you any more...” Coach crouched way down and took the shirt from my hands. He picked it up and held it out in front of him. I was right. While I would've been swimming in his shirt, to him it looked like a toddler's t-shirt. “WELL DAMN, THIS LITTLE THING WOULDN'T EVEN FIT ONE OF MY LEGS!” Coach boasted. “THE REST OF MY CLOTHES GREW, THOUGH. GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO GO SHIRTLESS UNTIL I CAN GET A NEW SHIRT MADE!” I shouted up at him, “I don't think anybody would have a problem with that, big guy. And if they do, what are they gonna do?!” “HAHA. DAMN RIGHT. THERE'S NO MAN ON EARTH WHO CAN MATCH UP TO THIS!” Coach crunched down into a most muscular pose right over the top of me, filling my vision with nothing buy hairy, ripped musculature. I was amazed and showered him with praise. “Damn Coach, imagine if you competed in a bodybuilding show now at your new size! That would ROCK!” Coach relaxed his pose, chuckled, and reached down and patted the top of my head. My skull fitting easily in just the palm of his hand. “THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU, JACKSON. ALWAYS WORKING YOUR ASS OFF AND ALWAYS MAKING ME FEEL GOOD. ALRIGHT LITTLE GUY, HEAD INSIDE AND GET TO LIFTING WITH YOUR BUDDIES, I'LL BE IN A FEW.” I made my way into the locker room, cooled off and changed into my lifting clothes. After refueling in the team's cafeteria, 45 minutes later it was time for the defensive backs' lifting session. We headed into the weight room and were greeted again by the sight of our towering, muscular colossus of a coach, our eyes about level with his knees. I took notice that it was good thing the weight room was a cavernous, warehouse type room. It was thankfully large enough that our captain could still stand inside. Even then, Coach's head looked to be less than 10 ft from the ceiling. I briefly wondered how he even got inside until I remembered the garage door at the other end of the building. Today we would be doing Olympic lifts. Hang cleans, clean and jerks and snatches to really work on our explosive power, which is ideal for football. As we took turns doing our lifts, Coach would walk along the line behind us. It was crazy to look in the mirror in front of us and only be able to see his massive crotch hovering about our heads. The mirror was far too short to expose anything above his waist. And nothing was more motivating the hearing his voice booming down encouragement. “NICE JOB JACKSON. REMEMBER TO USE YOUR LEGS. REALLY USE YOUR LOWER BODY TO DRIVE THAT WEIGHT ABOVE YOUR HEAT. TURNAROUND AND I'LL DEMONSTRATE.” I turned around to looked up and watched as Coach brought his arms up to his shoulders like he was pretending to hold a barbell on top of his chest. “MAKE SURE YOU KEEP YOUR BACK STRAIGHT AND STICK OUR ASS OUT AS YOU CROUCH DOWN...” Coach began to squat down, his huge muscle ass filling the khaki shorts to the brink, his quads and hamstrings exploding in relief, his huge chest puffed out from his exaggerated arched back. “WHEN YOU GET DOWN SO YOUR LEGS ARE PARALLEL TO THE FLOOR, EXPLODE UP WITH YOUR LEGS AND THEN PUSH YOUR ARMS UP TO GET THAT WEIGHT ABOVE YOUR HEAD.” Coach quickly stood up straight, his head rocketing upward far beyond comprehension. As he extending his magnificent arms his fists accidentally PUNCHED the ceiling! One of his hands collided with a light fixture sending small shards of glass raining down. I instinctively ran under the nearest thing I could, Coach Wood himself. “WHOOPS!” Coach exclaimed surprised. After the glass bounced harmlessly off his chest and fell to ground I heard a booming chuckle. “DAMN, I FORGET HOW SMALL THESE BUILDINGS ARE. HOW SMALL AND FRAGILE THEY ARE TO A BIG, STONG MAN LIKE MYSELF, HAHA! WHERE'D YOU GO JACKSON??” “Down here, Coach!” Coach leaned over and saw me huddled underneath him. He grinned when he saw me. “HEY LITTLE GUY. SORRY ABOUT THAT. BUT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU QUICKLY FOUND THE SAFEST PLACE. UNDERNEATH MY MASSIVE PECS!” Coach playfully bounced his colossal pecs as I stared straight upward. “YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF MY SMARTER PLAYERS, LITTLE GUY. THIS IS JUST ANOTHER EXAMPLE!” “Thanks, Coach! You'll just have to be careful in this world that was made of us little guys!” “I KNOW, I KNOW. BUT DAMN I TELL YA, IT EXCITES ME TO KNOW THAT I'M OUTGROWING YOU GUYS AND THESE LITTLE BUILDINGS. I'M LOVING THE POWER I'M FEELING.” I looked at him nervously and he quickly saw the look of trepidation on my face. “BUT DON'T WORRY, JACKSON. I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO MY PLAYERS. YOU ARE ALL LIKE MY SONS. I JUST WANT TO MOTIVATE YOU TO BE THE BEST YOU CAN BE!” I smiled warmly up at him and he gave returned a handsome smile, putting me a ease. “GREAT WORKOUT MEN, SHOWER UP! WE WILL BE HAVING A TEAM MEETING IN THE FIELDHOUSE TONIGHT AT 7:00PM. I'LL SEE YOU ALL THERE.” And with that, Coach stomped over the garage door, opened it and ducked down through it and into the hot summer air. ---------- A few hours later my roommate and I left our dorm and headed to the fieldhouse. The fieldhouse was a huge cavernous building, about the size of 1.5 football fields. It allowed us to practice inside during inclement weather and during the cold winter as well. We made our way inside and saw shirtless Coach towering over the growing mass of players at the other end. Jamal, of course, pointed out the obvious. “Coach, are you just gonna hang out shirtless all the time showing off your huge muscles or what? Put a shirt on man!” Coach chuckled down at Jamal. “WELL, JAMAL, UNFORTUNATELY I DON'T HAVE A SHIRT THAT FITS. I SPOKE TO DR. MARTIN, THE PHYSICS PROFESSOR. HE SAYS THAT SINCE MY BODY IS THE MAIN SOURCE OF THE GROWTH, ONLY THE CLOTHES THAT I AM WEARING WHEN I GROW WILL GROW WITH ME. SINCE I HAD MY SHIRT OFF WHEN DOING PUSHUPS IT DIDN'T GROW WITH ME.” We all nodded as he explained. Like our leader and Dr. Martin, we were still learning all the ins-and-outs of what was really going on with our growing leader. Coach smirked down at Jamal and stepped right up to him, Jamal slightly backed up in intimidation. He knew Coach wouldn't do anything, but when a 25 ft tall bodybuilder moves toward you you can't help but shirk a bit in fear. “BESIDES, JAMAL, WHY WOULD I WANT TO COVER UP THIS MUSCLEBEEF! BOOM!” Coach quicly turned sideways and executed a graceful side chest pose. This hamstrings and arms tightened and his chest shelf bulged up like a filling balloon. Jamal shouted back up in response, “Damn, Coach, looking JACKED! I guess you're right. If I looked like that I would NEVER wear a shirt either!” The crowd of players laughed in response. We all completely agreed. “WELL LITTLE GUY, AS YOUR COACH ITS MY GOAL TO GET YOU UP TO MY LEVEL...WELL MAYBE NOT MY NEW LEVEL, BUT CLOSER ANYWAY, HEHE! SO, ANYWAYS BOYS, THE REASON I CALLED YOU HERE IS THIS IS WHERE WE WILL CONDUCT OUR TEAM MEETINGS FROM NOW ON. THIS SPACE WILL ALSO SERVE AS MY OFFICE AND LIVING SPACE. AS YOU CAN SURMISE, I'VE BECOME SO DAMN HUGE THAT I'VE OUTGROWN OUR TINY LITTLE AUDITORIUM AND I'VE DONE THE SAME TO MY HOUSE. THE DEAN IS WORKING TO BRING ME IN SOME BASIC AMMENITIES. AND I WILL BE ABLE TO HIDE A BIT IN HERE TOO. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, THE PRESS IS GOING WILD AT THE THOUGHT OF A GIANT FOOTBALL COACH. ” We looked over to the tall, open garage door and saw men bringing in several mattresses. It looked they would be linked together to serve as a his makeshift bed. We watched them complete the bed as coach went over this weeks routine in preparation for our first game. They also brought in a huge, hastily built wooden bench, obviously meant to give coach something to sit on. They brought in some more crates for our leader to do whatever with and soon left and closed the garage door. After more discussion Coach began to bring the meeting to a close. “SO, IF YOU NEED ANYTHING I WILL BE IN HERE. THE DEAN HAS INSTALLAED A BUZZER ON THE DOOR THAT WILL ALERT ME WHEN YOU WANT TO COME IN. THAT'S ALL I HAVE BOYS, NOW IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME, I NEED TO FIGURE OUT HOW I'M GOING TO GET SOME FRESH CLOTHES. WE'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW FOR PRACTICE, MEN!” We began filling out the side door as Coach kicked off his shoes and socks. Being at the back of the group and a freshmen, I let the upper classmen exit first. Before I stepped out I turned to see coach facing away from us and sliding down his khaki shorts! He was wearing a dark grey jockstrap underneath. His giant, lightly haired ass muscles were exposed, each framed by the straps of the jock. He turned and saw me, the last player left in the room, staring,. He gave me a grin and spoke, “HEY JACKSON, BEFORE YOU LEAVE COME HERE PLEASE.” Coach turned to face me as he spoke, revealing a fabric covered, bulge that was obscenely large, even for a man of his size. He had his hand on his hips as I walked toward him, the bulge looming high and higher and bigger and bigger as I approached. Clad in just his jockstrap, standing in front of me was the most perfect, most masculine man in the history. Clearly the rumors about him being mega-hung were true. Finally, I stopped about 5 ft in front of him. Any closer and his face would've been obscured by his bulge and/or pecs. “Yeah, Coach?” “JACKSON, IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND, WOULD YOU TAKE MY CLOTHES TO ASSISTANT COACH HARVEY? HE IS GOING TO GIVE THEM TO THE MAINTENANCE DEPARTMENT FOR WASHING. THESE ARE THE ONLY CLOTHES I'VE BEEN WEARING FOR THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS AND THEY ARE STARTING TO STINK. PLUS I CAN'T FIT IN THE ATHLETIC OFFICES ANYMORE.” “Uh...um...sure, Coach! But, what are you going to wear?” “THE SERVICE GUYS BROUGHT ME A COUPLE OF SHEETS TO WRAP AROUND MY WAIST. HEHE, IT'S JUST LIKE THOSE TOGA PARTIES WE USED TO HAVE IN COLLEGE!” I imagined what a buff, young, 21 year old Coach looked like at a college toga party. Even if he weren't as muscularly developed at that time, he no doubt would've put any other frat bros to shame with his body. Coach then shocked me by leaning forward, grabbing each side of his jockstrap and slid it down his legs. He kicked up his left leg, then his right to step out of it. Awestruck, I saw his soft, cut dick flop down nearly 2/3 of the way to his knees! And it wasn't just long, it was THICK. The reason his bulge was so pronounced is that he obviously had to curl up his soft cock within the tight fabric of the jockstrap pouch! Plus, his ball were also enormous! Now, at his size they looked bigger than basketballs! Coach then slowly stood up, smirked and tossed the jockstrap to me. The huge, towel sized garment flung toward me and I instinctively reach out and caught it. It was still damp from his sweat and I was dampened by his masculine crotch essence. I was still staring, awestruck at my giant, naked, bodybuilder football coach. He notice my gaze and broke the silence, chuckling, “YEAH, JACKSON. I KNOW. EVEN I AM SURPRISED AT HOW BIG MY JUNK IS. IT ACTUALLY KEPT GROWING UNTIL I WAS 25 YEARS OLD, BELIEVE IT OR NOT.” Mercifully, Coach then turned and grabbed a bedsheet off the ground and wrapped it around his waist like a towel, shielding me from the incredibly emasculating site of his huge cock and bull balls. “THERE WE GO, NOW I'M AT LEAST SOMEWHAT DECENT. DON'T WANT TO CAUSE A STIR IF SOMEONE WALKS IN, RIGHT?” Coach winked down at me. “Yea...yeah Coach!” I stammered as he chuckled. “Would you hand me your shorts and socks and I'll take them to Assistant Coach Harvey.” Coach picked up the rest of his soiled garments, stepped up to me and piled them in arms. “THANKS, JACKSON. LET'S HOPE I DON'T GROW AGAIN WHILE I'M LIKE THIS OTHERWISE I'LL REALLY HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR! He thanked me and I exited the fieldhouse and completed my task. I couldn't help but replay the incredible show of pure manhood that I had just seen. As a football player I was used to seeing lots of junk in the locker rooms and such, but I had never seen anything as impressive as Coach's equipment. The following morning I went to class and I couldn't help but notice all the news vans parked along the athletic complex. Obviously the word had leaked out. I wasn't surprised, it had to be darn hard to hide a 25 ft tall muscle man. A couple reporters noticed me with my official athletes' bag and came over to try to interview me. I decline and sped up my walk to escape them. I heard similar stories from my teammates throughout the morning. After morning classes we notice the campus police had been pressuring the news vans to leave to allow us our privacy and we were very much thankful. After I ate my lunch I made my way back to the stadium for practice. The locker room was abuzz as we all shared our stories of being harassed by some of the reporters. Several of us noted that they better be careful, Coach certainly would NOT be happy with them if he knew they weren't leaving us alone. We dressed and made our way to the field and few minutes later the assistant coaches joined us, followed by out titanic head coach. His clothes must've been washed because he came out in his signature sneakers, socks, short khaki shorts, whistle and ballcap, looking as buff and as powerful as ever. Even after seeing him yesterday the first look was still awe inspiring. “GOOD TO SEE YOU ALL BOYS! NOW, I'VE BEEN HEARING SOME OF THE MEDIA HAVE BEEN GETTING IN YOUR FACES. IF ANYBODY MESSES WITH YOU LET ME KNOW!” Coach's face a had slight sneer on it as he spoke and the effect was terrifying. I would not want to face the wrath of a giant muscle man. “ALRIGHT BOYS LINE UP FOR STRETCHES.” After his introduction practice resumed as normal. Well, as normal as it could be with a huge coach looking after everyone. At his new vantage point he was able to see all the units working no matter where he was standing on the field. And he let us know too. Even when we was standing over next to the defensive lineman, he noticed one of the running backs goofing off at the other end of the field. “PORTER! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK TO WORK!” He boomed across the field. Jeremy Porter blanched in fear and instantly got back to his drills, giving 110% effort for the rest of the day. Once everyone realized there was no hiding from a 25 ft football Coach, the intensity of practice as a whole kicked up another notch. And we were already known for practicing hard thanks to Coach's methods. After the unit practices we gathered together to practice our team plays. At one point he became displeased with our center's stance. “YOU NEED TO WORK ON YOUR THREE POINT STANCE, YOUR FEET ARE FAR TO NARROW! I NEED YOU TO GET DOWN LIKE THIS!” Coach stomped over, bent his knees and leaned straight over the center himself. He let his hubcap sized hand fall on the ground. “LIKE THIS! SEE HOW MY HIPS ARE WIDE AND READY TO EXPLODE FORWARD!” I could see the lineman of the defensive side of the ball stare up at his rippling body in fear as they imagined what it would be like to have to go against someone like Coach. “THEN WHEN YOU HIKE THE BALL YOU EXPLODE FORWARD, BRING YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND PUSH THE DEFENSIVE GUY AWAY...LIKE THIS!” Coach the lunged forward and GRABBED the nearest defensive practice player, Billy Morton! With the small (to him) man in his huge hands, he LIFTED him up and pushed him out at arms length, pretending that he was pushing a man that matched his own size. Billy yelped, terrified at so easily being manhandled and brought 15 ft up in the air as if he weight no more than a feather. Coach set Billy back down. “THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME DEMONSTRATE BILLY, TAKE A WATER BREAK.” Billy was shaking as he went to grab a drink, I wondered if he had maybe pissed himself from the events. Jamal, never the one to keep quiet, voiced his awe, “Damn, Coach you picked him up like he was an action figure!” Coach turned and grinned down at Jamal. “JAMAL, SON, LOOK AT ME...” Coach flexed his enormous biceps up by his shoulder, “...AND LOOK AT YOU LITTLE MEN. YOU PRACTICALLY ARE ACTION FIGURES TO ME. I PROBABLY GOT MORE MUSCLE IN ONE OF THESE BICEPS THAN YOUR ENTIRE BODIES! PICKING UP ANY ONE OF YOU IS NOTHING!” Coach was starting to sound arrogant, but I guess when you look like him, you can back up that arrogance. For the next 45 minutes we ran our team plays to the coach's satisfaction. Then it was time for our conditioning. More situps and pushups. This time, Coach elected to stand at the front and direct us unlike yesterday. A few minutes later we were left panting and heaving for the effort, our abs, arms and chests burning. Once we caught our breath Jamal once again spoke up. “Hey, Coach, what's the deal? You always do situp and pushups with us! What's the matter, are they getting too hard for you now that you've put on some weight?” “IS THAT A CHALLENGE JAMAL?” “Heck, yeah Coach! Let's see what you've got, big guy!” Coach chuckled and slowly got down on all fours. If there was one way to manipulate Coach, it was to challenge him. “TELL YOU WHAT JAMAL, LET'S SEE IF I CAN DO 500 LIKE I DID YESTERDAY. ONLY, I AM GOING TO NEED SOME MORE RESISTANCE. FOR A BIG MAN LIKE ME PUSHUPS AREN'T MUCH OF A CHALLENGE ANYMORE,” Coach looked around at us and grinned. “ALRIGHT, ALL YOU FRESHMEN, CLIMB UP ON MY BACK, NOW!” The 16 of us freshmen all looked at each other, frozen in place. “I'M SERIOUS BOYS, HOP UP, YOU'LL BE SAFE, TRUST ME!” With that, Coach let himself fall flat on the ground. Us freshmen made our way over and clamored up on top of his beefy back. His warm, thick skin felt like taught leather underneath our hands and feet. Because he was nearly perfect in every way, there was no hair on his back, just smooth, tanned, hard, lumpy muscle. After the last of us had climbed on, Coach instructed, “OK SPREAD OUT EVENLY UP THERE, UP AS CLOSE TO MY SHOULDERS AS YOU CAN. I'VE GOT A MASSIVE BACK SO THERE SHOULD BE PLENTY OF ROOM FOR YOU ALL. OK, NOW STAY OUT OF THE CENTER OF MY BACK, WHERE MY BACK MUSCLES WILL PINCH TOGETHER. I'D HATE TO ACCIDENTALLY SQUEEZE ONE OF MY PLAYERS.” Coach felt us maneuver around. I took the highest position up by his shoulders. Just in front of me was the drop off from his front delts that led to the ground. We all had to squeeze in just a bit but there was still just enough room as we covered the expanse of his upper back. “OK BOYS GET COMFY. HANG ON TO EACH OTHER, IT MAY BECOME AN INTENSE RIDE!” And with that Coach began. Up and down. Up and down. It felt like being an enormous seesaw. I hoped that none of my fellow freshmen suffered from seasickness. To steady ourselves we all linked arms. Coach's form, like every part of him, was flawless. His huge back bunched and bulged underneath our butts as he continued the movement. The upperclassmen were hooting and hollering the whole time, encouraging their hero to pour it on. “Yeah, Coach! See if you can make those tinies fly off your back, like a bucking bronco!” “Damn, look his form! Looks at those triceps and pecs swell, bro!” “Is it hard with all those men on your back?” Coach, with his perfect form had his head up the entire time, watching his players praise him. “NOT AT ALL LITTLE BUDDY. I CAN BARELY FEEL THEM BACK THERE. IN FACT I FEEL STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER!” Coach smiled cockily and exclaimed as he passed 100 reps. On top of his back we all began to notice his skin warming up. Soon our butts began to dampen as well as sweat began to form on his back. At 200 reps we also began to notice something else. For some reason, all of us freshmen began to slowly drift away from each other. I wondered if we were just sliding around on his sweat but then I saw it. His back was stretching WIDER! And not just wider, longer. I heard more gasps from the players still on the field as they realized what as happening. Coach was growing. Again! He moaned deeply as the feeling set in. “OHHHH YEAH BOYS. I'M FEELING IT AGAIN! GETTING TALLER...AND BIGGER...AND STRONGER! YEAHHHH!” Once again the toes of Coach's feet were sliding along the grass. The groundskeepers were certainly not going to be his biggest fans as they would again have to repair the turf once he was done. Some of the freshmen began to panic and started to slide off his back. Since his back was now covered in sweat, many simply slid off his torso as if they were riding a slip-and-slide. I remained perched up near his shoulders as he continued. I looked to see his handsome face just a few feet away from he, his head growing and expanding keeping up with the rest of him. At one point he glanced to the side and looked right at me and he gave me a wry grin. “300 reps!” the quarterback shouted. “Fuck Coach, you are growing too big!” A couple of more players shouted in unison. “HAHAHA. NO SUCH THING AS TOO BIG, LITTLE MEN!” I turned around and noticed that I was the last player left perched up on him. I surmised that's why gave me a smile. Coach was now getting so big that I was able to swing my legs around and rest my feet on the top of his pec shelf! I turned to Coach's saucer sled sized ear and spoke, “Keep going Coach! Blow them and everyone out of the water. It's your destiny to be our GIANT!” “OH YEAH, JACKSON, THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, LITTLE BUDDY. STEADY YOURSELF, WE'RE KICKING THIS UP A NOTCH!” Coach then nearly doubled his pace. I steadied myself by reaching out a hand and putting it on his thick, taught neck. Up and down he went, his whistle bouncing off the ground at the bottom of every rep. “400, big guy!” Coach continued to swell, thicker, longer, taller, mightier. When coach was at full extension the drop off his shoulder was now nearly 20 ft and I was feeling some vertigo. Way down below the players were again awestruck and Coach's massive chest took up more and more of their vision as it pumped and expanded wider and wider. “STILL WASN'T DONE GROWING BOYS! DON'T KNOW IF I EVER WANT IT STOP NOW! HAHAHA! I LOVE THIS! At 500 reps Coach let himself fall to the ground. BOOOOOOM! The field rumbled as his massive tonnage made contact. The players instantly backed up from the small earthquake he generated. I slid off his sweaty deltoid, coating my back in his musky, salty wetness. Once I had backed away and joined the crowd of players, Coach tilted his head forward and smirked. He slowly put one hand on the ground and began to push himself up onto one knee. On just one knee he looked almost as tall as he had a few minutes ago. He was now far, far, bigger. The top of his kneecap was now nearly twice as high as we were. We only came up to about mid shin on him! If I were behind his leg I would been staring at the biggest, hardest calf muscles imaginable. He slowly extended his leg up to a standing position, the quadriceps muscle flexing and threatening to cover his kneecap with its mass. Up higher and higher he rose as our necks craned further and further back. From his happy smile I could tell he was getting more and more excited as we shrank further and further before him. Finally after what seemed like and eternity he had reached his full height. It looked like he had again doubled his height. I estimated him to be about 50 ft tall now! “MY LITTLE PLAYERS. YOU ARE ALL SO SMALL.” Nobody said anything. “HEHE...OR I GUESS IT'S JUST ME THAT HAS GOTTEN TO BIG!!” Coach stomped his foot down for emphasis and the ground shook. We instinctively cowered. “HAHA! SORRY DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU! I JUST WANTED TO SEE YOUR FACES. KNOW THIS, I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO ANY ONE OF YOU!” We shook our heads in acknowledgment and relief. Looking around, Coach spotted Jamal. “NOTHING TO SAY NOW JAMAL? WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Jamal nervously stepped forward. “Coach...you...you...you're HUGE!!! You are like a GOD among us tiny men. I'm one of the biggest linemen on the team and I feel like a mouse next to you.” While grinning down at Jamal coach bounced his pecs and flexed his right arm. “WELL, JAMAL, HONESTLY, YOU ALL LOOK LIKE LITTLE MICE TO ME! YOU BARELY REACH MY CALF MUSCLES! LOOK HOW BIG MY PECS ARE COMPARED TO YOU GUYS! YOU COULD PROBABLY LIVE IN MY BICEPS ITS SO HUGE! LOOK AT THIS MASSIVE ARM!” Coach bragged as he flexed and unflexed his arm. “MY LEGS MUST LOOK LIKE SEQUOIAS TO YOU GUYS! BEING THIS BIG IS AWESOME!!!” Once Coach had finished his self appraisal at his new size he dropped his hands on his hips and proudly stood tall above us. “ALRIGHT BOYS, THAT WAS ANOTHER GOOD PRACTICE. HEAD INSIDE, ANOTHER LIFTING SESSION AWAITS!” **********************************************

Hello, readers. By now you’ve heard of “King Ricky,” the giant, muscled Adonis who just a week ago was introduced to the world when he suddenly grew out of a 2 story house and continued growing until he was about 70 feet tall, then set up shop in a town in the Midwest, destroying the public library and turning the wreckage into a giant throne, crowned himself the King (not of anything – just, The King) and enslaved the population of the town (although the majority succumbed willingly and happily). That giant is me – and this is the story of how I came to be a giant worshipped as a god, and my plans for the future. I’ll be honest – I was a big, fucking guy before this happened. 6’3”, 275 lbs, 52” chest, 21” biceps, 34” waist (although my ass is so muscular and my cock so big – 6” soft, 10” hard) that I had to wear 36”’s or theyd explode off me. And I was a genius. I was so smart I skipped several grades as a youngster, graduating elementary at 12; high school at 16; got my 1st degree at 19, my second degree at 20. I was also a late bloomer. I didn’t really hit puberty until the end of my senior year of h.s. I was the class nerd….a gay class nerd, with a raging attraction…no, it was more than that…it was a deep desire, for muscle. I was attractd to the big jocks; obsessed with bulky, hulking, muscular actors and athletes. But I fully embraced my status as a nerd, and never really thought of wanting to be like that myself….muscular jocks and science nerds are pretty mutually exclusive. I was bullied…and probably would have been bullied more except for the fact I always had a pretty big dick, I was full grown by junior year of high school in that area. Even among “straight” males, a big dick earns you respect, which is weird, but whatever. When I hit puberty, I was surprised when I discovered how easily I put on size and muscle – and realized genetically I must be more similar to my grandma’s brothers, who are all linebacker/muscle hugeness. The first day back senior year, one of the coaches came up to me and remarked “holy shit Ricky, you blew up over summer!” and squeezed my bicep. At the time I was only 5’8” still and had probably a 14” bicep but a switch flicked and that brush of muscle-attention became a raging addiction. I began working out like a fiend, and by the time I was 20, I was 6’3” and 200 lbs. I was a walking contradiction – I was a pretty big hulking brute, but I was a triple major in applied physics, biology, and latin, and pre-med to boot…. So I kind of lived in two worlds: the world of the science nerds and the world of the jocks. I was a nerd at heart, and kind of introverted and even shy. It was an odd paradox. I craved the attention people would give my physique and size, but it also embarrassed me. And so I kind of had a Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going. I joined all these macro-muscle fetish web sites and posted pictures and vids of myself and even cammed, eating up the attention the legions of fans/worshippers would give me, but by day I was a cardigan and khaki wearing nerd….even if my muscles continuously stretched my clothes out more and more the bigger I grew. I would get jabs from my peers about being a musclehead/meathead, a jock in nerd's clothes, but I had the brains to prove my mettle. At 28 I got my doctorate and headed up a lab affiliated with a university. Word had spread of a genius freshman, an 18 year old named Qualyn. Despite the fact I had 10 years on him, I was immediately struck by how beautiful a boy he was. I like nerdy looking guys; thin but toned – and he was perfect, about 5’7”, Clark kent glasses, black hair, a handsome, boyish face, about 130 lbs…I was over twice his size and a full 8 inches taller than he was. I dared not expose my attraction for him; plus I believed him to be straight anyways. Whenever he was around me, I could tell he was extremely nervous and it made me chuckle. He stammered when he'd speak to me, even sweat sometimes… part of me was extremely turned on by his obvious reaction of deference and intimidation. I started wearing tight fitting polo shirts when I knew he was going to be interning that showed off my chest and arms and I would do things like put my hands on his shoulders or stand in doorways making him squeeze around me. The way his face would turn beet red and he would start stammering out an apology if he felt he was in my way or had inconvenienced me somehow was so fucking erotic. Im sure a few times he had to have felt the 10 inch bulge straining to free itself from my khakis as he squeezed around me on occasion. One day, Qualyn asked to make an appointment to see me. I was shocked, and I have to admit, for as inappropriate as I feel saying it, I was a bit giddy. I had a major crush on the boy but would never admit it or say it out loud. He came to my office hours and my face lit up like a Christmas tree when he entered. “Hi Qualyn, come on in. Have a seat.” “Thank you Dr. Mc…” I cut him off. “Qualyn, please, call me Rick. You don’t have to be so formal. “Okay Dr. Rick.” I smirked at him. “Ww…w…um….we..well…. well.. th..thank you fa…for having me” he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. I couldn’t help but stare him up and down, the way his clothes fell upon his slight but sinewy frame….plus those two ripe peaches for ass cheeks forming a noticeable bubble in his trousers. “Of course Qualyn, what can I do for you?” I smiled to myself and raised my arms, clad in short sleeves and an XL oxford button down that was about to rip off me… I had done 2 hours at the gym earlier in the day and had quite a pump going still. I flexed my biceps behind my head and observed his reaction. A crooked smile spread across my lips as I saw a lump form in his throat as his eyes widened slightly staring at my arms. “Wow you’re fucking big” he blurted out. I burst out in a laugh. “Haha well…thank you…I think? Is that why you came to see me?” He was bright red realizing he had just said that out loud. “I… I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to disrespect you… I… I just… I was wondering if I could hang out with you at the gym some time.” His puppy dog eyes tugged at my heart strings as I met his glance. “Well..” I said, still flattered, “I usually encourage the interns and most of the staff not to socialize outside of lab hours out of respect for everybody’s work being treated with a fair shake and judged solely on their merits and not brownie points…” “But, I’m not the one giving you your grade, and in fact have very little latitude over your GPA or credit hours anyways, so yeah I can make an exception for you. You trying to bulk up?” “Oh….oh thank you sir” he stammered. “Um… well yes and no. I just don’t like being the wimpy science nerd. I’ve been following your career for a long time and when I first saw what you looked like from google I thought it was cool you were…forgive me for bringing this up…but buff as hell and a major deal in the science community.” “well I don’t know about ‘buff as hell,’ or ‘a major deal.’ I laughed. “I know many guys who put me to shame in my gym. I just lift weights because I used to be a wimpy kid and I wanted to turn the tables on the bully and defend the other wimpy guys who couldn’t protect themselves.” I lied, leaving out the part that I was seriously attracted to muscle and I was obsessed with being muscular and that I got off to all things muscle worship. “Si…sir…. I mean…fuck! You’re the size of a bull. Everyone on campus talks about the bodybuilder who runs the school’s lab.” I laughed again, feigning modesty. Secretly I was eating this up. My boner was about to tear through my pants. I was precumming shot glasses worth. The object of my affection was sitting here pouring praise on my body. I felt like a vampire going in for the kill. “Well, I can sure give you some pointers. To keep It kosher what do you say we exercise at the school gym? That way we aren’t hanging out outside school grounds.” “Sure thing Dr. Rick, whatever you say! Thank you! Should I meet you there at 7?” “That works great,” I replied. “Have a great day Qualyn, and remember, you can talk to me about anything. Thanks again.” I watched his cute bubble butt bounce its way out as he left. I looked at the clock, and realized I would have just enough time to get my oil changed and make it back to campus to meet him that night. However, when I got to the auto shop, they revealed to me I had a leak in my engine and should leave it overnight for repairs. I texted Qualyn, sure he would be disappointed….but got an almost instant phone call back offering to pick me up from there. I thought about it, and decided to take him up on it. About ten minutes later, his car pulled up. “Hey I wanted to say I appreciate you picking me up. I can give you some gas money for it.” “N..n…no that’s alright! I’m just happy you still wanted to go with me. I really appreciate it.” We went to the gym and I showed him the ropes on working out, spotting him on all the different exercises, giving him a good beginner’s routine. When we finished, he asked if he could give me a lift back to my place which was just off-campus. I reached for my house keys and realized I had fucking left them at the auto shop, with my car keys. I had no way back into my house. “You can crash at my place….that is…that is if ..if you want. I know we’re not supposed to hang out outside school but you’re soaking wet with sweat and my dad who is out of town has some clothes you can sleep in at least until you can get to the place first thing tomorrow to get your keys.” I don’t know if it was the post-workout high, or the fact his gorgeous twinkling smile sent me over the edge, but for some stupid reason I consented. We made our way back to his house, which was beautiful. His parents were apparently wealthy and were out of town on business so he had the palce to himself. He showed me to the guest bathroom and gave me some linens and some sweats. Inside the shower was the oddest array of shampoos and body soaps I’d ever seen. As I was lathering up I heard the door creak open. “Qualyn?” I asked, trepidatiously. “Is that you?” “Ye…yes sir. I’m sorry. I just realized I should tell you some of those body washes are kind of…home made concotions I made as an experiment.” I heard him come closer, and instinctively went to cover myself. The shower door slid open. “Um… dude!” I shouted, sensing my privacy invaded. Instead of looking away, though, Qualyn just stared, locked eyes with me,a nd then slowly moved his gaze down at my wide shoulders, thick, heavy meaty pecs, down the outline of my abs to the “V” shape of my pelvis….and the outline of my thickening, growing cock which I found impossible to conceal with just one hand. “I.. I’m sorry Qualyn…” I said, embarrassed at the rapidly growing boner. “I… I don’t know what came over me I know this isn’t professional.” Qualyn’s jaw dropped, and then his hands moved to his shirt, lfting it up and over his head, then unfastened his pants and dropped them to the floor, stepping out of them. He had an erection as well. He stepped over the bathtub liner and into the shower with me. “Si…sir… please…. I’ve… since beforeI even met you I’ve been fantasizing about you and your body. You’re the ultimate man…you’re so fucking beautiful to me.” I couldn’t help but blush as his hand took my wrist and moved my hand away from the massive boner I was now sporting. He took it in his hand and I shuddered in ecstasy as he slowly moved his hand down it. He couldn’t even get his fingers all the way around it as he stroked it up and down. His other hand explored my pecs and he stood up on his toes to bring his lips to mine. I eagerly met his kiss and explored his mouth with my tongue and pressed my body against him against the wall of the shower. “You’re so big” he kept panting as I bit his neck, nibbled his ears, pecked his lips, grabbed his ass and kneaded his cheeks with my hand. Just then he reached for one of the unmarked bath soap bottles, and out came a neon purple liquid. He squirted it all over me and said “Let me clean you.” I was not prepared for what happened next. He began liberally applying the soap all over my body, rubbing it into my muscles as he generously felt me up. He got on his knees and rubbed it all over my outer and inner thighs, my ball sack, and my shaft as well. I grinned as I watched my huge cock bobbing up and down on his face while he looked like a thirsty desert nomad for it. The bath soap began to tingle, however….and I felt a funny sensation in my stomach and all throughout my skin. It took an instant for me to realize, but I noticed my skin felt more taut and I felt heavier. I then realized the shower looked to get more and more cramped. “What…what the fuck?! What is happening?!” as I noticed the roof of the shower getting closer. “I’m sorry sir to have tricked you but you need to realize..you’re a god among men. You’re so fucking magnificent…and I see the way you don’t embrace how big you are and how massive and powerful…you seem to shy away from it as you reach the brink. I’ve made this lotion somewhat a growth potion….” As he backed away as I continued to expand. Before I knew it, my head bumped into ceiling. I feared for his and my safety. He backed away but miscalculated the rate and extent of my growth. I turned to make space for myself in the ever-shrinking shower cubicle and my expanding ass cheeks pinned Qualyn right between them against the shower wall, and then lifted him up off the ground and inched him higher and higher off the ground. Trapped between a giant muscle ass with cheeks growing on either side of him lifting him up. “Oh fuck” he squealed. “Don’t flex your ass cheeks!” I was panicking and freaking out. I couldn’t lower my head any more against the ceiling of the shower and finally reached back to punch out the shower door. “NO, my dad will kill you!” he stammered, losing his breath. “Qualyn you have bigger problems than your dad killing you rigt now!” I managed to squeeze a turn around to free him from my massive ass muscles but instead my cock pinned him against the wall this time, like a giant elephant trunk. He spread his legs across either side of it to straddle it , facing my body, his back being pressed against the shower wall this time. I had run out of room so I lifted my giant arms, with now beach-ball sized biceps over my head and pressed through the ceiling , giving an “Aaaaargh” of effort. I broke through the ceiling as my head and shoulders kept expanding, breaking through the piping, then into the attic. I couldn’t see when I looked down because the attic floor was blocking my view. I was worried about the weight giving way as w were on the 2nd floor as well. I broke apart some of the attic floor boards so I could make sure Qualyn was alright. I had to be passing 12 feet at this point and felt the floor rumbling. “Qualyn, the floor is going to give way!” I reached to grab him, my hands large enough to hold him between them at this point. The floor burst open beneath my feet and I felt myself falling, holding on to Qualyn tight. I shielded him in my hands from the debris from the two floors above us collapsing on top of him by holding him under my chest as I leaned over him, the plaster and brick and mortar bouncing harmlessly off my still growing back. Before I could even get my bearings I felt pressure again as I realized my growing back was spreading against intact portions of the 1st floor ceiling as my legs kicked through wall, door, furniture, and the like as they grew. I estimated I was now at least 30 feet as I could hold Qualyn securely in one hand. I tucked my head between my legs as the growth continued, and I heard the utter demolition of the house around me collapsing. I let Qualyn go from my hand as he took refuge between the walls of my legs, crossed Indian style. I was worried they would crush him between them. After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped growing. I opened my eyes and blinked. I stood up and was completely shocked at what I saw. I stood a clear 30 feet from the roof of what remained of their house. Not only that but my muscles had grown proportionally much, MUCH larger. My cock hung down a solid 15 feet. I saw Qualyn crawling out of the rubble, across the top of my foot. He came up only to my ankle. The look on his face was indescribable. He flung himself to the ground and prostrated himself before me. “Oh great one, majesty! I have just witnessed the birth of a god, a true god!” he yelled. I have to admit… the rush that I was feeling (and still feel ) was nothing short of fucking in-cred-ible. To look down at my 70 foot body, giant mountains of pecs, a huge distended roid gut with giant SUV-sized abdominal bricks lining them, an ass like two huge boulders, a cock longer than a school bus- flaccid – hanging down to my kneecaps which were the size of old fashioned satellite dishes. I could see for miles in every direction; the tops of the old growth trees came up to my nipples. I could pull a 100 year old oak out of the earth with one hand. I couldn’t stop my cock from getting harder than it had ever been my entire life, and I marveled at its size – it was easily several time larger than the largest man who had ever lived. The feeling of raw, invincible power that surged and coursed through me was more an aphrodisiac than any drug in the world. I took note of Qualyn’s groveling. I reached down and brought my face to his. My head was several times taller than he was and I noticed a tricke of piss form in his pants and run down his pant leg. He was literally pissing his pants in front of me. I felt angry at his deception – how was I going to explain this? How was I ever going to get back to normal? But at the same time, part of me was reveling in this change – knowing I was the most powerful thing on Earth, that nobody could stop me, and that maybe I didn’t want to – or should – go back. I picked him up in my hand and brought him up to my other arm, and flexed a bicep in front of him – the giant arm pushing up to about 30 feet in circumference. “I should CRUSH YOU with my bicep for what you did to me Qualyn!” my voice booming in his ears; the wind causing his hair to blow back. He began shaking lke a terrified chihuaha. “Pll…please…please Dr. Ricky….I’m sorry, I just thought you deserved to be a god!” “IF I AM A GOD THEN WHY DO YOU STILL CALL ME RICKY?” I yelled, causing him to yelp. “CALL ME ‘MASTER’!” I gave him a threat squeeze to show him I meant business, not realizing how strong and huge I actually was and how much that hurt him. I ended up bruising several of his ribs by accident. He screamed in pain and began sobbing. I set him down. The realization of how much power I now possessed was intoxicating, to say the least. I couldn’t get over how massively powerful I had become. I looked down at the palatian home that now barely came up to my waistline. I laughed to myself when I saw that my erection was itself easily capable of breaking through several feet of roofing material as it got impossibly larger and thicker. In the distance I saw the faint, flickering light of police mars lights and the sound of sirens, slowly getting louder. I took stock of my surroundings. The home sat on a lot of property, but there were still other homes around – I estimated the yard to be about 3 acres. What I didn’t realize at the moment was a neighbor had recorded the entire production of my growth through the house and was already being broadcasted to several news stations. Any hope I had of being the quiet, unknown muscle guy evaporated as millions of people began watching the incredible viral video of a man becoming over 10 times his original size and destroying a home as he attained godhood. There were also several bystanders aggregating by the front of the home. I let out a roar as I figured I should put on a show for my new fans, and was met by a collective sound of screams and “aaahs.” I flexed a bicep high into the air, grinning as I stared at it and felt it up with my other hand. I noticed a few of the braver onlookers had joined Qualyn at my feet and stared up at me in awe and total worship and admiration. Some had fallen to their knees and were silently praising me, others were caught up in an ecstatis rapture, rolling against the ground and throwing themselves down at my feet, and a few others had a totally blank look in their eyes, their dicks were out, blatantly masturbating while they just stared up, their jaws wide open, speechless and utterly devoted. I grinned down at these observers and thought they deserved a better look. I stepped up and out of the house, allowing the hole I had created to collapse in on itself, and stepped up to mere feet away from the crowd. My giant cock bobbed in front of me and a 10-gallon droplet of precum rolled off the tip of my cockhead and splashed to the ground. Immediately a few of the madding crowd leaped at it in a frenze and began to lap it up, rubbing it all over themselves, moaning in ecstacy. I cocked my head back and let out a mischievous laugh. “Oh fuck,” I thought to myself. “these people are literally drinking my cum as sustenance.” I crouched down to better view the menagerie of giant worshipping runts who were staring in awe at me. I drank in the reality of the situation; that they were individually about the size of the nose on my face. I noticed one who was shaking in his boots and brought my face to about a foot away from his. “WHAT IS YOUR NAME?” I commanded. He froze in place, locked in fear. I swear I could almost hear his heart rate screaming through his chest. His eyes were staring – not at me – but straight ahead of himself, and so I looked down to see what he was looking at, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. My cock – over 15 feet long, was stretching from between my crouched legs and terminating about 2 feet from his head. My cockhead was almost the size of his entire body. My shaft was several times the length and width of his body and could crush him into pulp easily – probably without my feeling it. Does anyone want me to keep writing this story? Let me know, honest feedback appreciated. thank you for your time!

I wrote this story today and I've wanted to for ages, based on a guy in his mid-50s I know who recently got into competitive bodybuilding. He's so gruff and manly and when we see each other in the street or in town he slaps me on the back and I wish I was one of his sons. This is what I imagine he and his grown sons get up to behind closed doors. Enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dave looked really good. He had turned fifty a nine months prior and had never felt better. Life seemed to be back on track for the guy, who had not had the easiest of times. His high school sweetheart Angela, with whom he had sired two sons, had been gone from his life for twenty six lonely years. His love for her had been so profound that he had never even glanced in the direction of another woman since her passing. Until her death he had been a keen gym goer and amateur bodybuilder, and she loved when he would bounce his meaty pecs or flex his powerful arms for her. It made her feel safe, and him feel masterful and strong, like a trusty protector of his beloved treasure. After she was gone he stopped paying attention to this aspect of his life, turning his attention to being a dutiful father for the lads and working hard to provide for them. It was as he approached the milestone birthday that he caught a glimpse of himself in the shower, his shoulders still broad and his waist still trim, that the idea crossed his mind to head to the home gym in the basement and see if any of his formidable strength remained. He was to be pleasantly surprised as he loaded up a squat rack with heavy weights, dropped to ground with them over his shoulders and bounced up effortlessly. The adrenaline was instant and a rush of excitement coursed through his body. After this exercise his quads were bursting with veins and pulsating wildly. “This is definitely something I could get back into.” He pondered. Fast forward to Christmas Eve, as Dave sat by the fire in the living room with the newspaper and a glass of wine, his bulging muscular frame filling the armchair his sons entered the room. “Ah there you are boys! I was wondering where you’d both got to. Come and join me on the couch.” The beast of a man stood up, his mass eclipsing the two smaller men who had sprung from his seed. He sat in the middle of the sofa and was joined on either side by Andreas and Robert. He put his arms around their necks and brought them in to nuzzle his huge, hard chest and they obediently and adoringly rested, each head gently placed on one solid pec. Dave began to rub his sons’ backs gently, and then not so gently. After not long his arm extended further and further south and was massaging their buttocks. Massaging them hard. The boys each began to squeeze one of their dad’s thick nipples, which immediately began to get thicker and harder. A small moan came out of each of their soft mouths as a large middle finger entered their rectum. “Shhhhh boys, don’t respond, just let it happen, ease into it.” Upon their father’s instruction their anuses appeared to relax and their expressions of anguish turned to beaming smiles and Dave began to thrust his finger in and out of the tight holes. “Boys I never imagined we’d have such a happy Christmas after your mother died. This is such a delight, I love you both so much.” He then began to passionately kiss Andreas, thrusting his tongue down his son’s throat. “Daddy we love you too. Every day that Andy and I stay home to look after all of your needs is a dream come true, we love our daddy!” purred Robert into dad’s ear. This pleased Dave and he flipped his body over, leaving Andreas to catch his breath, and began thrusting his giant body against Robert’s slight pudgy build. Robert moaned as Dave bit down on his lower lip before digging his warm wet tongue into his mouth. “Robbie you’re so tasty, just what I needed after a big dinner!” Dave ripped off his sweater showing a distended, but nonetheless ripped, belly from the aforementioned meal. The trousers came next and his gigantic throbbing cock made quick work of tearing through his tight boxers. “Andy, worship my body like a good boy while I smash your brother’s arse open!” Andreas didn’t need to be told twice and he got down on the floor, licking his father’s toes and then moving up the rippling legs, first kissing and groping the calf muscles that jutted out like coarse diamonds and then moving his head up between the beefy red hot thighs. He kissed the insides of his dad’s quads as Dave tightened his grip on his son’s head as his pleasure intensified. “Come on Robbie, time to see if I loosened you up enough.” In less than a second he undressed his son and turned him over, burying his handsome face in the asshole, excavating the deep crevice with his tongue. “Mmmmmm Robbie you taste so good! You’re truly the fruit of my loins, I can’t wait to get you properly lubed up to take daddy’s pillar of flesh!” Robert was in a trance, so thrilled to be dominated by his possessive, caring daddy and immediately widened his rectum, knowing that an enormous and powerful force was about to enter, and would not be soft or gentle. Having been widened by his father’s loving tongue and finger there was no difficulty slipping in his member which glided beautifully in and out of his son’s snatch. Dave beat his chest as he pounded his son’s ass and grunted primordially like a wild animal as he felt the throes of orgasm approaching. He tightened his grip on Robert’s waist as he pumped his cock into the little man’s ass three more times, unleashing a flood of semen which flew up Robert’s ass and began leaking a steady warm ooze down his thighs and onto the floor. It was so warm that it began to steam as it made contact with the winter air outside. Whilst Robbie lay on his back on the couch, continuously dripping from his asshole, Dave was not yet sated. He looked over to Andreas, his more muscular but still diminutive son and indicated that it was his turn. Andreas removed his shirt and pants and stood looking up to his father in just his underpants. Dave wrapped his arms around Andreas and began to feel his body up. “You two boys remind me of your mother and myself years ago. Robbie you’re lovely and soft, smooth all over. Putting my dick in you is like sticking it to your mum’s tight wet pussy, and you scream and howl like she used to, like you can’t decide whether you’re on cloud nine to have my godly dick inside you or whether you’re terrified it’s going to rip you wide open. Andy,” he said, caressing his son’s chiselled face “you’re like me when I was in my 20s. Tight abs, nice pair of pecs and wide shoulders. Still a baby compared to me, but I love seeing the little similarities between us. And the way your six pack is always covered in stubble from you shaving that stubborn hair that won’t stop growing. Just drives me wild, let me stick my head in there!” He proceeded to motorboat his son’s pecs. He stood side by side next to his son, spread his legs slightly, and lifted his arms in the air, bringing his large hands into fists next to his head forming an impressive front double biceps pose. Andreas followed, the arrogant smirk on his face warming Dave’s heart. He put his hands around Andreas’ left biceps, squeezing them with ease. The two continues to pose down as Robert crawled over to the two of them and began worshiping them. Sucking his father’s still erect cock and working Andreas’ with his hand. “You really are just like your mother Robbie, such a good sucker. Once you’ve made me cum a second time I’m going to reward you by letting you come to bed with me.” Robert began to suck even harder and faster, he loved going to bed with his daddy, and he would lay in his daddy’s arms al night jerking off again and again, the two of them waking up in a sticky pool of both of their discharges that flooded over the edge of the bed and all over the floor. As his father shot his load down his son’s throat, Robert blacked out, probably deprived of oxygen and enjoyed several hours of comatose muscle worship dreams.

It was a cloudless night; moonlight was the only source of light to guide my escape. I couldn’t see where I was going well but I knew HE wasn’t far behind! The thundering crash of trees smashing into the wooden wall of houses made me turn back. There he was! The first thing I noticed was his blond army crew haircut and how his head was visible above the small forest I came from. Mick was closing in on me. “Shit! He grew again?” I said to myself as I ran into the kitchen of the house beside me. I crawled over to a window facing him, and peeked outside. “Come out wherever you are Little Man,” he yelled. With a grunt, the four trees in front of him were uprooted. Holding their bark above his head like they were paper with his huge titanic arms he threw them towards the backyard of the house I was hiding in. The grassy backyard was destroyed in seconds. He stepped out of the forest and I let out a gasp at what I saw. Mick had grown so tall that the second floor bedroom was already at his eye level. His muscles were engorged with power and blood. Each bicep was the size of a wrecking ball, his barrel chest was large and strong enough to balance a fully loaded truck. My eyes drifted lower and I marveled at the tightness of his 6 pack-abs each as large as a plasma sized TV. And between his titanic thighs was his humongous boner piercing the sky. A drop of pre fell from the slit of his dick with a plop. I knew what he was after, and how he could break me in seconds but seeing that massive muscle giant made me hard. Mick stepped closer to the house; I could see his massive feet through the window to the elft of the backdoor. “Show yourself Little Man, you know you can’t resist this.” I couldn’t see what he was doing, but the sound of his heavy moaning meant he was feeling his muscles again like back in the lab- what a narcissist. I crawled closer to the backdoor and looked up through the window, and there he was licking his right bicep while stroking his giant member with his free hand. “All of this rock hard muscle, how can you be so selfish and not share it with the world Little Man? If you do as I say I promise you can have muscle giants to play with 24-7.” Mick released a guttural growl as his dick fired a torrent of pre-cum against the wall of the house. That one squirt made the house shake a little. “Fine if you want to play hard to get…” Mick started twisting his right nipple and was jerking his cock faster. His face was red hot with ecstasy; I knew he was going to cum soon! I quickly ran for the front door and managed to escape the house. A powerful roar came from behind me, I just had seconds to dodge to my right when the roof of the house I was in was blown away by a tidal wave of cum. Pieces of wood, tiles and globs of semen flew across the street, but the show wasn’t over just yet. I watched in horror as Mick’s back was growing larger by the second. Every time he cummed he would grow. When his growth stopped was the height of a telephone tower. “THERE YOU ARE LITTLE MAN,” he said in his booming voice. It took all my willpower to move, but before I could get far a giant hand had captured me. It's pretty short, hehe this is what happens when I write in a horny mood. The original idea was muscle giant hide and seek. Thanks to Ferren_Wolf on CF for proofreading. Comments appreciated. Love to write for muscle growers.