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Digi-Game Show: Know to Grow This is another attempt in a digimon/muscle growth continuous story, but here with a bit more freedom except for that this is a digimon(/furry) only ordeal, no humans. A new TV game show has been developed in the Digital World where contestants lay on a gurney as big as a king size bed and are hooked up to an I.V. filled with a MG chemical. The rules of the game is like your basic quiz show and whenever a contestant get the right answer, 2 drops of chemical is injected into them. But if a contestant gets a wrong answer, it is game over for him/her and a new contestant is chosen randomly to play shortly after. Contestants also get to decide to choose the Random Roulette option that’s divided into 10 segments labeled with fetishes/other tfs/growth to add onto the muscle growth such as Hair Growth, Species Change, Genitalia Expansion, etc. The rules for this continuous story are that storytellers/participants determine the digimon contestants, the fetishes/tfs for the Roulette (wheel constantly changes for each contestant), how long a digimon stays in the game, and how much growth the 2 droplets cause. Also, more than one storyteller/participant can work on one digimon contestant if they wish; continuing the story where one had left off. If a writer wants to use a similar contestant but with a different storyline say to use Agumon but to take the chance with the Random Roulette or with a different tf/fetish on the wheel along with the muscle growth, you can! Just make sure to label it in bold such as Agumon/Male Enhancement or Multi-Dick Storyline at the top to prevent confusion and differentiate from another story branch and also be able to continue with a new string of contestants from there. Also, sex is allowed if you can find ways to insert it into this. I hope that this is self-explanatory and/or easy to understand. ------------------ Digimon of many types, gender, and sizes were filling the audience seats of the dimly lit TV studio. Soon, the three sets of 15 rows that have one staircase on each side and that created a semicircle around the stage were filled with murmuring and clamoring digimon. All were excited about the game show; many wanting to be chosen as contestants from the get-go while others wanted to wait and see the growth before taking a chance themselves to. As they chatted, they stared at the circular stage in front of them with a purple backdrop that’s been illuminated with huge yellow lighted letters: “Know to Grow!”. Four Veggiemon wearing headsets were manning TV studio cameras that surrounded the stage from multiple angles. Huge spotlights also surrounded the stage from up above. What was strange was also near the ceiling was a huge container filled with a dark blue liquid along with cylinder capsules filled with colored liquids attached to it with tubes connecting to it from the bottom. Next to that was a suspended multi-colored wheel with ten even sections with strange labels such as ‘Gender Bending’, ‘Male Enhancement’, etc. The murmurs and talks came to a halt when the lights of the studio dimmed. The spotlights from above aimed towards the center of the gray stage as a square opening revealed a Vademon with mike in hand and his arms spread out to greet the audience as the elevator lifted him up. Along with him was oddly enough a gurney that was as big as a king-size mattress with its wheels in a locked position. “Hello there everyone! And welcome to Know! To! Grow!” he shouted into his mike while pumping up the audience into a cheer. He calmed them down with hand gesture after a few minutes so he can speak. “Where the name of the game is the more you know the more you grow! And the prize is huge muscles and modified bods that you get while you play so there are no losers, but winners here!” “Now before we begin. Let’s establish the rules of the game, shall we?” he said while gesturing over to the gurney. “Contestants lay on this gurney while hooked up to an I.V. that’s connected to that container.” He said while a medical tube with a needle descended from the container shown from the ceiling. “Immediately, two drops will be injected into the contestant to give them a taste of growth. Contestants will begin answering a series of simple trivia questions of any subject and category and with each correct answer two drops of liquid will be injected into them. However, the liquid acts like an aphrodisiac which means that they’ll have an increased libido which will make them feel intoxicated in a sense and will have hard time concentrating on the questions. Be careful! As one wrong answer will kick you out of the game, stop your growth and we move on to the next contestant. So keep your wits up!” “Oh! Before I forget, there’s one more thing! For those wanting more than just muscle growth and feel a little daring, contestants can choose the optional Random Roulette before they get hooked up and answer questions!” Vademon said as he pointed with his mike towards the descending multi-colored wheel with ten labeled segments and towards the ten cylinder capsules filled with liquid. “The Random Roulette lets contestants to add another kind of change or transformation along with the muscle growth, but of course, as the name suggest, it’s random with every spin so you don’t know what you’ll get when the arrow stops! Not to mention the roulette changes frequently for each contestant too!” “So that’s enough for the rules and let’s gets this game started, shall we?” he said with opened arms in the spotlight as the crowd roared and cheered. “Now let’s see who our first contestant is!” The spotlights from above circled around the audience as a drumroll played. Soon, the music stopped as one spotlight turned off and the other shone brightly on a single member of the audience from above.

Here is a story I posted on the old forum. I'm re posting it here in preparation for posting a multi-part continuation I started called "Containment", which I don't think I ever got around to posting on the old forum. I'm having issues with formatting (took forever to whip this post into shape) so when I finish fixing the continuation, I'll post it too. Part 1 Bruce Banner watched cautiously from concealment. He was just inside a thickly wooded, dark forest that appeared to border a public park. Minutes earlier, he had awakened nearby on the forest floor. Now, he was trying to figure out where the Hulk's latest rampage had landed him, once the beast's rage had spent itself enough to allow the unstoppable green powerhouse to transform back into the trim, sensitive physicist. The park was nearly deserted. Still, the half-naked man was reluctant to show himself. The army's Hulk-Buster unit was probably combing the country-side in search of his alter ego and drawing attention to himself before he was able to find some suitable clothing was not a good idea. He hunkered down lower into the undergrowth as someone came running toward him. At first he was afraid he'd been spotted, but the young man approaching at a run, veered slightly and entered the tree-line along a trail that led deeper into the woods. The kid appeared to Banner to be twenty-years old at the oldest. He had close-cropped coppery, red hair and a light dusting of freckles on his arms. He was even skinnier than Banner, but appeared to be close to the same height. Which made the fact that he was clutching a duffel-bag of the type one might use to carry a change of clothing very interesting to Banner. Bruce decided to trail the kid and see if he might leave that duffel unattended at some point, long enough for the desperate scientist to make off with it. The kid slowed once he was well into the woods. He was wearing baggy, athletic shorts and a tank-top that had "Middleton Maulers" printed across the chest in red letters. Banner refined his estimate or the young man's age to somewhere in the range of a high-school upperclassman. The totally lost physicist tried to mentally place a city or town called Middleton in order to glean some insight into his whereabouts. Unfortunately, he wasn't familiar with any such locality. The kid came to a stop in a small clearing. He stood for a moment, breathing heavily, then moved to take a seat on a large rock, tossing his duffel to the ground beside him. ***** Christopher Sean O'Malley took a seat in the small clearing in the woods by Greendale park. It was a place he often came to when he needed a little solitude. A senior this year at Middleton High School, he had just washed out at the tryouts for the school's football team for the fourth and final time. Even though Chris had always been the oldest kid in his class (he'd be nineteen in three months), he had always been a late bloomer. Kids two years his junior often out-performed him in sports and all his pubescent growth, which had FINALLY begun to manifest itself, was coming in the form of added height. Not that his current five foot, ten inches was really all that tall, but at least he was no longer so noticeably shorter than his classmates. Still, this was small consolation for having just been so totally humiliated by no less than three sophomores and even one freshman in the football tryouts. The other boys seemed to progress effortlessly in their physical training endeavors. Ironically, Chris had become infatuated with the sport of bodybuilding at a very young age, and decided, in the way the young kids do, that he was going to be one when he grew up. For years, Chris exhausting himself regularly with a pretty intense weight-training program, yet no amount of lifting seemed to have the slightest impact on his stick-like limbs. Frustratingly, it seemed that all around him, kids years younger were proudly tearing the sleeves from their old team workout shirts to showcase growing muscles to both approving coaches and admiring girls. Being denied the latter never really seemed to bother Chris, a fact that he subconsciously avoided considering, but the fact that none of the school's coaches ever had any reason to notice him was a constant source of frustration. On top of all this, Chris's comparative frailty made him a natural target for every belligerent miscreant in three grade-levels. As a result, he kept mostly to himself and had come to grudgingly accept a position as something of an outcast. Sometimes Chris wanted nothing more than to be able to overpower those bullies and maybe, just once, humiliate his other classmates who were, to the last guy, so physically superior to him. Realizing that he would never have what it took to succeed in bodybuilding, he dreamed of excelling at some manner of sport. Unfortunately, the only thing he came close to lacking more than physical prowess was any kind of athletic coordination. Chris contented himself with reading for amusement and studying. He wasn't a stellar student, but he did okay. He loved the sciences, but tried to keep that passion under wraps. There was no bigger tell that screamed "total geek" than being a science nerd, and he had enough working against him in that department. As if the odds weren't stacked against him enough to keep him from blending in with his classmates as an equal. He had recently discovered himself to be a mutant. Something that, if it became known to anyone else, was sure to make him even more of a pariah. Being a ‘mutie', as people like him were disparagingly referred to, was not only isolating, but dangerous. Especially since the mutant ability he manifested seemed about the most useless ‘power' imaginable. Chris stood and picked up a fragment of a decaying tree-limb from the ground. He thought he heard movement in the undergrowth nearby and stood motionless, listening until he was convinced no one was around. Holding up the limb, he concentrated and an aura of ghostly-white light formed around the limb. The aura quickly spread up his arm and soon engulfed his entire body as well as the tree-limb. Rearing back his arm, Chris hurled the limb away into the woods. But the white-aura remained around the limb, it stretched into a kind of tether that connected him to the branch. The tether stretched thinner until it slowed, then stopped the limb in mid-flight. Then with a strange elasticity, the ethereal tether snapped the limb back toward Chris, who deftly caught it in the same hand he'd used to hurl it away. Chris examined the limb then smirked. "Couldn't have been the ability to fly or shoot lasers from my eyes." He said, derisively. "No, I get the ability to turn anything I want into some kind of weird yo-yo." Chris shook his head. "Just my luck. For this, I get to be an even bigger freak than I was before." "Us freaks need to stick together." A voice said from behind Chris, causing him to jump and turn around. Banner had decided that this discouraged youth might be as much in need of a friend as he himself currently was, and that direct engagement was probably the way to go. He emerged from his hiding place and approached. "You...you were spying on me?" Chris asked disbelievingly. Then, more angrily. "You know? You know about me!" Banner held up his hands, trying to calm the boy. "It's okay, I wouldn't tell anyone, I promise." The thought of being exposed as a mutant by this interloper, as well as the lingering humiliation of being beaten yet again by younger guys in the football tryouts combined to fan the anger Chris felt at being spied on into a fiery rage. When he charged Banner, throwing a punch at the older man's exposed midsection it took Banner completely by surprise. Bruce felt the boy's punch land home, but instead of the wrenching pain he expected to accompany the gut-punch, he barely felt the hit at all. Banner was so used to being thoroughly trounced in any sort of physical confrontation that it took him a moment to realize that this kid was far weaker than even the slender scientist. Years of pent up rage boiled to the surface inside Chris and he hurled himself at Banner, his arms a flurry of ineffectual punches. "Look, kid..." Bruce began, but trailed off, momentarily amazed at how easily he was withstanding the young man's continued pummeling of his abdomen. "...I know what it's like to be different." Bruce abandoned his attempt to communicate and fell silent. The kid was so lost in channeling his anguish into his assault that Banner didn't think a rational discussion was possible. He decided to just let the young man vent. Also, it felt odd to be so much more powerful than someone else. It was strangely gratifying to shrug off such an intense assault with such ease. He felt his brutish other half stir somewhere in a dark corner of his mind. The feeling of relative strength Banner was experiencing must have resonated strongly with his powerful alternate persona. Chris's punches slowed. He stared in frustration at the strange man's lean and surprisingly strong abs, then to the look of concern on the man's face. There was no sign of discomfort at all. The younger man gulped as he gave up on his attack. He wondered with dread if their was going to be a counter attack from the slight, but obviously more powerful man. "Feel better?" Banner asked. He smiled, concentrating on not letting that smile slip into a smirk of superiority. Chris was suddenly very glad that he'd never taken his father's advice to punch out the next bully that picked on him. His father was constantly giving him pointers on how to throw a punch effectively and urging him to take the fight to aggressive bullies. But If this guy could withstand such an all out effort on his part, then his only hope for surviving an attack on some of the powerfully built jocks that tormented him in school would have been for them to collapse from laughter before they broke him in half. Chris stumbled back from the other man. He looked like he was about to flee the raggedly dressed stranger. Again Banner held up his hands and tried to calm Chris. "It's alright. I'm not angry and I'm not going to tell anyone your secret. But I would like to ask you if you have some clothes that I might....borrow." Bruce gestured toward the duffel nearby on the ground. "It's not like I could stop you from taking them." Chris managed with resignation. Banner's smile widened. "Don't feel too bad." He said rubbing his abs, casually. One of the benefits of being fairly scrawny was that it could really make a guy's abs stand out. "There are times when guys a hundred times as strong as you couldn't do any better." Chris just stared at Bruce with confusion. "Uhm...that power you were using earlier..." Bruce said, trying to distract the boy from his last comment, as well as gain the boy's confidence. "...might be that there's more to it. Sometimes mutant abilities can take a while to develop fully. My name's Bruce, by the way." Chris was slowly starting to accept the man's claim that he meant the boy no harm. If the guy had wanted to, the boy reasoned, he could have clocked him and then took what he wanted by now. As Chris's mind calmed, questions about the older man began to form in his head. "What happened to your clothes?" The man wore only the tattered remains of a reserved pair of khaki pants. Incongruously, Chris could see what appeared to be a racy, bright purple pair of underwear through the shredded material of the pants. "It's a long story." Bruce said then pointed at Chris's duffel. "May I?" Chris shrugged. "Sure." "Thanks." Bruce said, sounding relieved. He scooped up Chris's duffel and started pulling out the clothing inside. After briefly survey the removed contents of the bag, he stripped away the remainder of his khakis, revealing the completely undamaged purple underwear beneath. Chris watched the man pull on the pair of jeans and the t-shirt he found inside. The clothes fit the wiry stranger snugly, Chris noticed grudgingly. The same clothes hung loosely on him even though the two men were close to the same height. For Banner's part, he wasn't used to this sort of trendy clothing. The low-riding jeans and the vintage t-shirt fit him perfectly. It was a revelation to him that he might actually be able wear something like this well. He was approaching his mid-thirties, which wasn't that old, he reasoned. But it would have never occurred to him under normal circumstances to try on such clothing and he was surprised at how well it suited him. He was by no means a muscle-head, but the fitted nature of the outfit seemed to enhance his lean body to maximal effect. "What did you mean earlier? When you said us freaks have to stick together?" Chris asked, taking a seat once again on the large rock. Banner took a moment to consider his response. He had what he needed from the boy, so he didn't see any reason to involve him further in his plight. "Well, it's hardly normal to be lost and barely dressed in the middle of the woods now is it?" Chris looked disappointed. "So you're not a...a..." "Mutant?" Banner offered. "No, not exactly." "What? Were you kidnapped or something?" Chris asked. Banner grinned, ruefully. "Something like that, yeah." Banner changed the subject. "What's your name?" "Chris." The young man replied, reluctant to divulge his full name to this odd stranger. "Chris." Banner said with a nod. "Can you tell me where the nearest city is?" "Chicago is about 75 miles north of here." Chris offered. "Great." Banner sighed. He was several states from his base of operations in New Mexico. Clothed, but still barefoot, Banner started to head out of the woods then remembered how Chris had helped him out. He stopped and turned back to the kid. "Umm, Chris. Thanks a lot for the clothes." Banner patted the pockets of the jeans he now wore. "Do you have anything to write with?" Chris pulled a scrap of paper and a pencil from a side pocket on his duffel-bag and handed them to Banner, who proceeded to scribble down some information. "Contact this address and I'll see to it that you are reimbursed for your clothes." Banner handed the paper and pencil back to the boy. "If you're interested, I can put you in contact with some people who'd be able to help you to deal with your mutant ability." Banner offered cautiously, wondering if his passing acquaintance with Professor Charles Xavier might be enough to justify steering the boy in the educator's direction. Chris's eyes widened with fear. "NO! You said you wouldn't tell anyone." Banner put a calming hand on the boy's narrow shoulder. "And I won't." He assured him. "It's totally your call." Banner wasn't sure what else he could do for the boy, particularly if he wasn't ready to accept help. "I've got to go, but remember that if you ever change your mind...." Chris shook his head emphatically to indicate that he wouldn't. "...alright then." Bruce relented. One more bit of guidance occurred to him that he might offer the boy. "If you're determined to go it alone, you need to work to make sure you understand the scope and nature of you mutant ability." Chris looked confused. Banner tried to explain what he had in mind. "There are some pretty useful meditative techniques that I've used in the past to...umm, to manage anger." Chris couldn't imagine that this gentle-seeming man would have much of a problem with his temper Bruce continued. "They basically just involved learning to clear your mind and focus on the nature of whatever it is that troubles you. The technique is also helpful in allowing you to control and explore certain things - like your mutant ability." "I don't think I understand." Chris replied, looking lost. "Maybe a demonstration would be better, here." Banner motioned for Chris to follow him to a nearby grassy area. "Just lay here and relax." After Chris hesitantly did so, Banner knelt by the boy and continued. "Clear everything from your mind, don't try and force this to happen, just imagine your thoughts all falling away. Concentrate on one thing - like the sound of your breathing - until it's all there is." Chris lay still and silent. He seemed to become more relaxed by the second. After several minutes Banner broke the silence. "Looks like you're a natural at this." Banner said softly. Chris opened his eyes and blinked. He almost seemed surprised that Banner was there at all. Banner continued his coaching. "Now try the technique again, but this time, instead of concentrating on your breathing, concentrate on your mutant ability. When you're totally focused on it, use it...explore it." Again, Chris closed his eyes. The random thoughts in the back of his mind all dropped away. For a moment, Chris wondered how to concentrate on something as abstract as his mutant ability. He decided to imagine his power as a perfects sphere. He visualized that sphere, then concentrated on it. He willed his power to activate and in his imagination the sphere began to glow. Banner watched as the glimmering glow he'd observed Chris generate earlier returned to Chris's hands, then spread to the rest of his body. Bruce smiled slightly and softly whispered "Thaaaat's right. Good man." Chris scrutinized the sphere in his mind's eye. At first it was perfectly round and continued to glow with luminescence like a soap-bubble. Subtle, swirling detail in the sphere's surface showed that it was spinning slowly. Then it began to wobble slightly. Chris noticed a second, much smaller sphere had appeared out of nowhere. It was adhered to the larger one. Unlike the larger sphere which had begun to glow when the boy had switched his mutant ability on, this new sphere remained dim. Chris focused his attention more onto the smaller orb and it began to grow. The non-glowing sphere was soon nearly equal in size to the other and it was growing faster and faster. The analogy of soap bubbles again seemed the best way to describe how the two spheres stuck to each other. The growing sphere quickly dwarfed the first one and swelled larger and larger. Soon the rapidly expanding dark orb seemed to blot out the horizons of Chris's imaginary space. It loomed over him like a great alien moon. Chris's heart-rate quickened as he tried to understand what was happening. He reached out with his mind to try to will the massive and expanding sphere to stop. Instead the sphere lit up like the first one had, only the light from the growing sphere was blindingly bright - to the point of being painful. Banner watched with growing alarm as Chris's tranquil expression became more and more troubled-looking. He had just decided to rouse the boy when the eerie glow surrounding him vanished and Chris sat bolt upright with a loud gasp. "Chris? What's wrong?" Bruce asked, wondering how the relaxation technique could have ended up distressing the kid instead. Chris clambered to his feet, breathing heavily. "I - I don't know." The boy looked very upset. "I think you'd better leave." There was something almost threatening in the boys tone. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." Banner demanded firmly. Chris tried to push past Banner and leave himself, But Banner grabbed the boy by the shoulders. "Oh no you don't" Banner admonished as he held the struggling boy in place. He was concerned for the kid, but he also had to admit that his ego welcomed the opportunity to further test his strength against the young man. He found that he was easily able to overpower him. Chris struggled, but Banner held him easily. "Look, you wanted me to explore my mutant abilities and I did." Chris replied angrily. "I didn't want the first power and now, thanks to you I find out that I have another one!" Chris struggled more frantically. Banner shook him slightly to better get his attention. "What do you mean? What kind of other ability do you think you have?" "I don't KNOW!" Chris shouted. "Knowing my luck I can probably smell like a skunk cabbage on demand...just...let me GO!" With a surge of effort Chris slipped free of Banner's grip and stomped off. Bruce didn't want to leave Chris alone in such a state...and he found himself oddly miffed that the kid had broken free from his grip. Bruce sprinted after Chris and caught him by one arm. Spinning the thinner man around he bear-hugged him, pinning his arms, then lifted him bodily into the air and carried him back to the clearing. "You need to talk about this!" Bruce urged the boy firmly. "Let...ufff...let me go!" Chris squirmed futilely as he protested. "Struggling is going to get you nowhere." Bruce explained confidently. He squeezed until Chris let out a groan that trailed off into a whimper. "Awright...awright." He pleaded in surrender. "I give." Bruce was getting so caught up in the heady feeling of power he was getting from humbling the younger man that he was almost sorry Chris had given up. "Promise?" Bruce asked, prolonging the demonstration of his superior strength a bit longer. Chris's face went red as he ran out of breath. But Bruce could feel him nodding his head vigorously. That's when Banner felt something odd. Chris's soft, almost spongy feeling arms and torso went rigid inside his bear-hug. It was as though the boy transformed from helpless foam-rubber dummy into a writhing bundle of coiling sinew. Bruce released the boy even as he felt him seem to find this strange, inner reserve of energy. He reluctantly let him drop to the ground. Banner found himself relishing the idea that the boy might be able to offer more of a challenge to him. Bruce was surprised to see Chris almost immediately double over in pain. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you there, Chris." Bruce said, a hint of haughtiness creeping into the his concerned tone. Chris clutched at his stomach as he felt waves of strange and intense pressure course through his body. Even as his hands pressed into his middle in an instinctive attempt to somehow alleviate the unpleasant sensations, he felt his soft gut tighten and grow firm. He could feel ridges of muscle coalesce beneath his hands as if by magic. As he grew accustomed to the strange sensations running rampant throughout his body, he ran a hand along his upper arm. He stared at his arm in shock. It didn't look much different, but it definitely felt different The boy smirked. "I think I know what my other mutant power is." He straightened up and stared challengingly at Banner. "Well, good" Banner said as Chris approached closer to him. "You know what they say; Knowledge is power." Bruce slapped Chris on the back in an outwardly friendly manner, but put a lot more force behind it than was strictly necessary, as a way to remind the boy who was physically in control of this encounter. The scientist didn't like the defiant look the kid was suddenly sporting since picking himself up off the ground. Seemingly unaffected, Chris spread his arms and faced Banner directly. Those arms didn't seem quite as thin as before. Chris felt his anger return at Bruce's not so subtle attempts at physically cowing him. "Thanks for everything Bruce." Before Banner could react, Chris had enfolded the other man in an apparent embrace of gratitude. "Maybe I can give you some insight into what power is in return." With a small grunt, Chris actually lifted Banner off the ground. Again Banner decided to put the kid in his place and returned the embrace. Again he squeezed Chris hard in order to take the wind out of his sails. But this time, it felt like trying to squeeze a fence post. The boy laughed and inhaled deeply. His torso expanded to what felt like an impossible degree, forcing Banner’s arms open wider and then Chris gave Banner a squeeze of his own. "Arrrgh, Chris..." Banner grunted. He tried to free himself but it was no use. "Chris that hurts!" Chris continued laughing as he released Bruce, shoving him backward slightly. "And how about this? Does this hurt now?" Chris fired off a surprise punch into Banner's abs, but unlike the dozens of punches Bruce had easily absorbed from the boy earlier, this one slammed into Bruce's stomach with authority and knocked the wind out of him. "Unnnnfffff! H-how did you..." Bruce stammered as he struggled to remain upright against the pain in his abdomen. Bruce felt himself become angry at what he considered to be such an unfair surprise attack. He threw a reprisal punch of his own at Chris's stomach. His fist was stopped dead as though it had encountered the side of a house. Banner drew back his hand and rubbed his fist, which felt a little numb. Still smiling, Chris hoisted his shirt at the hem, revealing actual visible abdominal muscle where before he had only ever had a flat, but featureless stomach. "Looks like I'm finally going to be able to keep up with my classmates." Chris raised one arm right in front of Banner's face. "I wonder how many of them will be able to keep up with me now." Chris flexed his biceps and his formerly stick-like arm jumped into muscular relief. He looked like a well-trained member of a high-school swim team now. Moving swiftly, Chris placed the stunned Banner into a headlock and squeezed. Banner gripped Chris's forearms with one hand, his the boy's lead-pipe biceps with the other and strained in futility to free himself. Banner felt his face turn red from the pressure...and from his alarmingly increasing anger levels. "Chris....Chris. You have to stop." Banner gasped for the breath to continue. "...you're putting yourself...in danger." Banner tried to explain. Chris just laughed at Banner's perceived threat. He released the older man and shoved him once again, sending him stumbling. The boy was even more intoxicated with his newfound relative strength than Bruce had been. He advanced on Banner again and, slapping a hand on the other man's chest, he clutched a handful of the borrowed t-shirt. "I'm not sure why you think I'm the one in danger." With that and a growl of effort, Chris hoisted Banner off his feet with one arm. Bruce wriggled helplessly, suspended in mid air. He flailed for something to grab onto, finding only Chris's suddenly very sinewy arm. That arm trembled only slightly with the effort of holding Banner aloft. Otherwise, it was as though Bruce had grabbed onto an oak yardarm. "Now THIS is what I call a mutant ability." Chris chuckled with approval as he shook Banner slightly to reinforce his obvious, newfound physical superiority. "And I think I'm still getting stronger." Chris performed a biceps pose with his free arm. Instead of a champion swimmer, that arm now looked like it might belong to a fairly powerful quarterback. Just then, Banner began to scream as if in excruciating pain. This shocked Chris enough that he dropped the man back to his feet, whereupon Banner immediately crumpled to the ground. He curled into a virtual fetal position and began to make strange gurgling and growling noises. Chris recovered a little from his shock. "C'mon, you're not that fragile." Chris advanced and hauled Banner to his feet. He was further surprised to find that Banner was now a good foot taller than he was. The older man's face had taken on a more chiseled, primitive aspect and he was ever so slightly beginning to turn...greenish. "What!" Chris gaped. "What the hell are you?" Chris released the ever more hulking man and sprang back from him as Banner reared taller and became more intensely green in color. Chris watched as the cuffs of the jeans he had loaned Banner earlier rode up on the man's lengthening legs, then split open against calves that were the size of bowling balls and still getting bigger. The t-shirt was splitting along dozens of different tears and in moments it shredded to ragged strips against Banner's rippling, swelling torso. In a matter of seconds, the slim, lost man Chris had just met had transformed into a seven-foot tall mass of bulging green muscle. As the beast leaned back in a ground trembling roar of fury at the sky, Chris realized who...or what, he was now confronted with. "You...You're the Hulk?!" Chris exclaimed hoarsely, his throat constricting with fear. The boy finally overcame his shock and turned and fled at top speed. Part 2 The Hulk's post-transformational bellowing wound down and the brute stood looking around his new environment. The form of a fleeing human caught his eye as it disappeared into the thick woods that surrounded him. The Hulk absently swiped away a small shred of the t-shirt Banner had been wearing where it had managed to remain draped across one of his trapezius muscles, which was roughly the size and hue of a ripe watermelon. The Hulk vaguely recognized the retreating human by the shock of red hair on his head. Banner's desire to help the youth was all that had survived of the man's consciousness inside the Hulk's brutish mind. "Hulk help Chris." The Hulk muttered and then leapt into the sky above the trees, headed in the direction of the fleeing boy. Chris ran headlong through the woods. He nearly careened into several trees in his fright. It was hard to judge distance as he seemed able to run far more swiftly than he had ever been able to before. Up ahead, through the trees, he noticed one of the trails that criss-crossed the woods. He quickly tried to alter course so that he would intersect the path and follow it out of the forest. Then he did clip a sapling of about the thickness of a street lamp with his shoulder. He spun out of control and sprawled on the ground. He sat up blinking and looked around. He was near one of the many sculptures the city had contracted local artists to create and place throughout the park. A few of the sculptures had been placed along the wooded trails. This one looked like a set of free-floating, shipless sails. For having endured such a violent impact, he felt almost nothing. His gaze fell on the small tree he had collided with. Or rather, its remaining stump. It had splintered near the ground and been hurled several meters away by the impact of his body. Chris absently rubbed the shoulder that had felled the small tree. There was no pain at all. It didn't feel like his shoulder. It felt more like that of one of those tank-like kids he'd been utterly unable to compete with in one of his typically unsuccessful tryouts for the wrestling team. Remembering that the Hulk was nearby, Chris slowed his breathing to near silence and listened intently for any sign of the monstrous being. Chris's heart nearly stopped when the silence was suddenly shattered by the Hulk as he came crashing down from the sky, shearing off tree branches several times the size of the tree Chris had brought down. The beast landed effortlessly, batting away falling, telephone-pole thick branches. He strode toward Chris through a small blizzard of falling leaves and other arboreal debris. Chris felt adrenaline flood his body. He scramble to recover his footing and was about to sprint away as fast as he could when a hand, larger and thicker than a catcher's mitt, closed on his shoulder. "Why does muscle-boy run away?" The Hulk asked in a slightly annoyed voice that was like rolling thunder. It seemed an odd question from such an intimidating pursuer. Chris wondered if it was supposed to be a taunt of some kind. Then it dawned on him that the Incredible Hulk had just referred to him as "muscle-boy". He reflexively grabbed the Hulk's hand and tried to free himself, but it was like trying to pry open a vise. The Hulk scooped Chris up in one motion and attempted to tuck the boy under one arm. Chris managed to plant one hand against the Hulk's side, with the other he continued to pry at the Hulk's grip on him. For a moment he managed to frustrate the Hulk's effort at securing him, but the Hulk exerted more strength and easily overcame Chris's resistance. "Muscle-boy is stronger than other puny humans." The Hulk noted absently as he stomped off with Chris trapped and held immobile under one ridiculously muscular green arm. As Chris was carried along, his torso wedged between the insanely large biceps and triceps of the Hulk's upper arm and the brute's rippling mosaic of cobble-like obliques, he had quickly realized the futility of struggling. He relaxed and tried to calm himself in order to take advantage of any opportunity for escape that might present itself. Chris could feel the pressure of the Hulk's hold steadily increase. There was, so far, no accompanying pain or discomfort, but he wondered why the Hulk kept squeezing him harder when it was clear that he was already well and truly trapped. The Hulk grunted with irritation and readjusted his hold on Chris. "Muscle-boy can't get away. Stop fighting Hulk." The brute admonished. That's when Chris realized that the Hulk's grip wasn't tightening because the beast was squeezing harder, it was tightening because Chris was still getting bigger. He craned his neck to examine his right arm where it wrapped around the Hulk's own much larger right forearm as Chris held on. The boy's eyes widened with surprise. The Hulk's arm might be much, much larger than his, but he could definitely see why the Hulk was calling him ‘muscle-boy'. The biggest, toughest linebacker on his high school's football team would have killed to have an arm like that. Chris knew he wasn't in the Hulk's league, but he was beginning to wonder if he might be able to free himself with a surprise, strategically timed, all-out burst of effort He slowly began to exhale. He tried to precisely counter the effect of his growing musculature so that the Hulk would think that he had totally given up and was resigned to being held captive. Soon he thought he could detect a small relaxation of the Hulk's grip. He continued this for as long as he could and right before he was completely out of air - his lungs screaming at him to take a breath - he twisted as hard as he could in the Hulk's grip and shoved away with both arms with all the strength he could muster. To his surprise he felt himself slip the Hulk's hold. He landed on his feet just behind the Hulk and was able to quickly steady himself. "Huh!?" Then Hulk grunted with surprise. He stopped and whirled around, glaring at Chris in irritation. He couldn't understand why the boy was resisting his efforts to protect him from...what ever it was he needed protection from. The Hulk's simple mind was being driven only by the dimly remembered concern Banner had regarding Chris's well-being. Chris stood trying to catch his breath from the long period in which he had interrupted his normal breathing. He found himself momentarily distracted by unusual movement in his field of vision. He glanced down, realizing that the heaving motion of his breathing was causing his pecs to rise higher into view than they used to. Heck, he'd never even really HAD discernable pecs before. He ran a hand across his chest and was amazed at how the much thicker muscles there felt. His breathing under his rippling pecs felt like the slow revving of some immensely powerful engine. Chris was stirred from his infatuation with his burgeoning muscles by the sound of the low growl emanating from the Hulk as he moved in on him once more. The Hulk's child-like mental focus was beginning to drift from protecting Chris to being annoyed at being defied by this less-puny-than-usual, but still puny human. Chris's eyes widened and he froze in place, not sure which way to run. The Hulk stooped and arms more powerful than the mightiest earth moving machinery encircled Chris, who felt himself pulled against massive, slab-like, green pectoral muscles that seemed to stretch away on either side of his head for miles. "Muscle-boy will stop trying to fight Hulk." The Hulk demanded and then squeezed Chris to demonstrate his displeasure with the boy. Chris went white with fear. The Hulk's biceps seemed to advance like opposing bulldozers on either side of him, while the Hulks pecs bulged like a swelling liquid steel tide. Chris closed his eyes tight and tensed up, expecting to hear the sickening crack of his ribs giving out just before the Hulk crushed him. Instead, that earlier feeling of power he'd experience when concentrating on his own pecs returned, only it felt even stronger now. Wondering how much time he had before the Hulk overwhelmed him, Chris struggled to free his arms, but the Hulk had them pinned too solidly. The Hulk felt Chris's effort to move his limbs. "Muscle-boy will make Hulk hurt him." The Hulk warned with anger this time instead of mere irritation. The Hulk increased the power of his squeeze by what felt like a factor of ten. Not seeing how he could free himself from the now even more solid hold the Hulk had him in and fearing the Hulk might totally squeeze the breath out of him, Chris inhaled as deeply as he could. His chest expanded hugely, even against the Hulks ever thickening pecs. Chris flexed down hard with his own pecs to try and resist the Hulk's onslaught for as long as he could. Grimacing with effort, his eyes squeezed shut, Chris waited for the inevitable. He was suddenly aware of the irony of his situation. Just as he'd finally been miraculously granted the ability to avenge himself on all those guys who'd kicked him around all through school, fate had sent the strongest creature ever to take over the job of bullying him. The Hulk growled with increasing anger as he felt Chris flex against him. "Muscle-boy is strong." The Hulk grunted. Chris's eyes flew open. Was that a grunt of effort?! "But Hulk is STRONGER!" The Hulk bellowed. Chris's head whipped back and forth as he examined what was happening. Veins as thick as garden hoses surged in each of the Hulk's straining biceps and waves of undulating striations rolled along the surface of the Hulk's expansive chest as the brute brought more power to bear on the boy. The pressure on Chris's torso must have been beyond belief. But the boy's powerfully flexing pecs did not yield. "Uh...Am I actually standing up to the Hulk?" Chris wondered to himself in disbelief. He looked up, curious to see the Hulk's face so that he might gauge the amount of effort the best was putting forth, but the great green arc of the brutes massive pecs obscured the view. The Hulk roared and ramped up the power of his bear-hug. Chris felt himself fairly disappear, he was almost completely engulfed in the bulging green muscles surrounding him as the Hulk’s arms and chest swelled with the increased power being channeled into them. Chris exerted himself more, in an attempt to counter...and found the strength to keep up with the Hulk's surge was there, on-tap, within his own bulging muscles. "Does Muscle-boy give up?" The Hulk growled smug confidence. Chris wondered how much of the Hulk's strength he was capable of coping with, but his curiosity was eclipsed by his desire to escape. The Hulk's question seemed like the opportunity he needed to free himself. "Umm - sure, Hulk." Chris answered from where he was pinned between the Hulk's massive, straining muscles. "You're uh...You're just too much for me." Chris added, then rolled his eyes at how unconvincing he sounded. He held his breath, hoping the Hulk would buy it. The Hulk's oak-tree arms swung open like the gates of a mighty fortress. Chris felt himself fall away from the twin armored hemispheres of the Hulk's bulging chest, his feet hit the ground and the boy stood on his own once more. Even though the Hulk still loomed menacingly over Chris, he found himself more concerned with checking out the state of his own body. His fear of the Hulk was momentarily displaced by what he saw when he held out his arms and looked down over his now even more powerful looking frame. Chris's previously skinny arms had filled in even more with hanging slabs of triceps that underlay powerful-looking biceps, both of which peaked slightly even with his arms outstretched. His pectoral muscles protruded outward like the stout prow of a tug-boat, obscuring his view of anything below them behind the expanse of lightly freckled skin that was stretched tight over those broad, incredibly thick, rippling muscles and the line where it bordered with the tightly stretched material of his shirt.. Chris swung his arms behind him, causing those pecs to flatten against his ribs as much as was possible. Tilting his head forward, he was now able to see his stomach, where a rippling mass of riotous muscularity ran rampant across his abdomen. His previously featureless middle now looked like something that should have a couple of rock-climbers scaling it. It was then that he felt the first leg-band of his briefs give way, followed quickly by the tearing sound of the other leg-band slowly succumbing to the swelling muscles of his leg. The overly baggy shorts he'd been wearing were still intact, but they were less and less baggy all the time. The over-sized arm-holes of his Middleton Maulers tank-tee were beginning to snug up around the boys lats, trapezius muscles and the sides of his chest. The collar stretched tight as well, around those same traps as well as along a tight circle that skimmed his upper pecs. Chris crooked his right arm, grabbed the biceps with his left hand and gave the muscle a probing squeeze as he flexed it. His jaw nearly hit the leaf-littered ground. It felt like an iron cannonball. "Hulk must go back home." The gravely voice of the Hulk drew Chris's attention from checking out his bod. The Green behemoth was looking up, scanning the sky through the trees. After seeming to fix his position somehow, the Hulk turned his attention back to Chris. "Muscle-boy will come with Hulk." The Hulk declared in a manner that proclaimed that Chris simply had no other option. "W-where's home?" Chris asked, stalling for time as his mind raced. "In big desert." The Hulk answered as he took a step closer to Chris. Chris pack-peddled keeping his distance from the advancing brute. "Hulk not leave muscle-boy alone here." The Hulk said, his voice rising with annoyance once more as Chris tried to avoid him. "Umm, c-can I go get by gym-bag first" Chris requested. He pointed back toward the clearing. The Hulk eyed him suspiciously. "Hulk will take you to bag. Then Hulk will take muscle-boy back to big desert." The Hulk effortlessly swept Chris off the forest floor and held him with one big arm behind the boys knees while the other arm cradled Chris's torso. In a rush of acceleration that took Chris's breath away with the power and unexpectedness of it, the Hulk launched them both into the sky with a single leap. Chris felt himself go quickly from the initial heavy sensation brought on by the Hulk's mighty leap to an exact opposite feeling of weightlessness as they came to the peak of the jump's trajectory and began falling back to earth. They landed with a jarring thud as the Hulk's legs - larger, more thickly muscled and more powerful than those of a bull elephant - absorbed most of the energy of the impact. For a moment the Hulk stood, holding Chris as he surveyed the clearing for signs of anyone else. Chris found himself comparing the Hulk's deeply muscled chest to the brawn of his own newly acquired muscles as he waited for the brute so set him down. The boy's chest was side by side with the Hulk's and though the Hulk was clearly bigger, Chris couldn't help but noticed that his pecs were now spanning a width that was almost in the same league. The Hulk released Chris's legs, letting them swing to the ground then set the boy on his feet. "Now muscle-boy can get bag and come with Hulk." The Hulk said, sounding impatient. Chris moved to retrieve his duffel-bag as slowly as he thought he could get away with. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to escape. The Hulk didn't seem like the brightest guy around. Chris supposed that when you were built like the Hulk you didn't have to be. But he wondered if he might be able to convince the Hulk to give up on the idea of taking him along. Chris turned away from the where the duffel lay on the ground to face the waiting Hulk. "Uh, look, Hulk. I really don't think I want to go with you." The Hulk's brutish brow furrowed. "But Hulk has to protect muscle-boy." Chris wondered where the Hulk got the idea that he needed protection and from whom, but the line of reasoning gave him an idea. "Yeah, well um - thanks for the offer, Hulk. But you said it yourself," Chris straightened to his full height and squared his new, better-than-Olympia-class shoulders. "Muscle-boy is strong, right? I can protect myself." Chris squeezed his right hand into a fist with nervous anxiety as he waited for the Hulk's reply. The movement peripherally caused the boy's right pec to bunch up in a sympathetic reflex. His Maulers tank top could no longer accommodate such a size increase. The collar seam popped and the shirt tore down the middle revealing the young man's broad and deeply muscled torso. The already confused expression on the Hulk's face intensified and he cocked his massive head to one side and stared at the bulging muscles of Chris's now almost fully exposed body. Chris grinned and tore away the remnants of his shirt. "See what I mean." Chris felt so incredibly powerful now. "Heck, I feel like I could take on every one of those guys at the football tryouts at once now, or take out an entire army or...or..." ‘Take on the Hulk?' Chris choked off that last example before saying it aloud. He trailed off, intrigued by the irony of how that example had just randomly come to him. Chris sized up the green behemoth before him. The legendarily powerful brute was still a good two feet taller than Chris, as the boy didn't seem to be growing in height at all. It was true that Chris felt and looked superhumanly powerful now, but what he was contemplating seemed insane - that he might actually pose a challenge to the Hulk!? Apart from massive muscles, the Hulk looked to have a skeleton that was just as inhumanly thick and dense. One of the Hulk's wrists alone was almost half as thick as Chris's waist, which was the only other thing besides the boys height that had remained nearly unchanged. The Hulk was simply massive - The living equivalent of an Abrams tank. But then, of course,the Hulk could crush such a tank like a tin can. Chris quickly put any thought of tackling the Hulk out of his mind. "I-I guess what I mean is..." Chris continued and begin to slowly, cautiously back away from the Hulk along the trail that ran through the clearing. "...I'll be fine on my own...really." The Hulk began to growl again as Chris backed away more quickly. When the giant started to stride after him, the boy turned and ran. Chris's arms and legs pumped powerfully, accelerating him to an exhilarating speed. He was near the opposite side of the wooded area in no time and beginning to think he'd finally shaken the Hulk. But he wasn't so lucky. Again, the Hulk crashed to the ground from another of his spectacular leaps, this time, directly in Chris's path. Having almost no time to react, the boy collided with the Hulk full tilt. Chris felt himself slam into the Hulk. It brought him to an instant, teeth-rattling halt. He saw stars and the breath was knocked out of him. Chris took a couple of staggering steps backward and then simply sat down hard on his backside in an attempt to keep from actually falling down from the dizziness imposed by the collision. He shook his head then looked around, waiting for his vision to refocus. After a few moments, he could see more or less clearly again. There was no sign of the Hulk. Chris clambered to his feet looking all around for his huge green pursuer. Had the Hulk decided he wasn't worth it after all or had he maybe finally taken Chris at his word and decided that the boy didn't need the Hulk's protection? Then Chris noticed a large mature oak tree further along the path in front of him. On one side of the trees ancient, enormous trunk, a huge chunk the size of a Volkswagen had been blasted out of the living wood. The tree was groaning slightly as if its weight was still in the process of being redistributed along its compromised trunk. Looking beyond the massive oak, Chris noticed several other trees were missing branches or were otherwise damaged. The trail of destruction led deeper into the woods off a curve in the trail. Chris advanced a few meters into the trees and stopped dead, his mouth gaped open in awe. The Incredible Hulk lay flat on his back at the end of a shallow gouge in the soft earth of the forest floor. His head was propped against the base of a steep cliff, which apparently had finally halted the huge creatures motion. An expression that was a mixture of pain and disorientation was frozen on the coarse, chiseled features of his face. His thick chin rested on his slowly heaving pecs. The Hulk was out cold. Chris lurched backward in amazement, he stumbled a bit then turned around and moved unsteadily back to the trail. His mind reeled as he struggled to process what had just happened. Chris halted in his tracks as a strange sensation surged through him. It was hard to describe the feeling. It was as though a huge freight train had reached its destination and coasted to a stop. Instinctively, the boy knew the mutation that was imbuing his body with exceptional size and strength had fully manifested itself and he had just stopped growing. A few meters away on the path, another of those sculptures loomed to one side. This one was an obvious homage to the Monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. However, instead of being uniformly black, this great metallic rectangle was finished in highly polished chrome. It had a near-perfectly reflective surface. Chris moved slowly to stand before it. What it showed him boggled his already overwhelmed brain. He was monstrous. He was beautiful. His image was at once terrifyingly powerful and mesmerizingly attractive. Even the muscles in his youthful face were powerfully developed, rendering him brutally, masculinely handsome. He struggled to imagine how someone else might perceive him now. He turned his head slightly from side to side as he examined the strong features of his face. He stood tall and scowled experimentally and was sure that anyone who was the subject of such a look from him would have fled at the sight. He smiled broadly and was equally sure that the sight of it would have set hearts fluttering and knees wobbling. He stepped back a couple of paces to more fully take in his body's reflection. His mind struggled to make sense of what he saw. If he considered just his biceps or say, one of his bulging calves that jutted out on either side of his shin like halves of a great lopsided pumpkin, his mind balked; too big. Too big to be human. But when he considered those individual muscles in relation to his new body as a whole, the thought that came to mind was; perfect...just right. Unlike the Hulk, whose thick, squat overall physique conveyed one thing: unstoppable, brute strength. Chris's massively muscled frame had a symmetry and a flow that manifested a perfection of form...as well as projecting matchless power. Chris moved a hand to explore the undulating ridges along his stomach. As he did so he noticed that his chest responded to the motion by bunching up thicker and higher on his torso. The motion was intriguing to him. He relaxed his arms and concentrated. With some trial and error, he was soon able to cause his thick, heavy pecs to move independently. Soon he'd figured out how to tighten and bounce his powerful chest just like those bodybuilders he'd used to idolize. It was strange and so different from the bony collection of visible ribs that used to comprise his torso. It was almost like having a whole other set of appendages to learn how to control. Chris stuck one of his legs out before him so that he could both check out his reflection and look down and observe it directly. His thigh had the girth of an oak barrel and massive quadriceps and hamstrings simultaneously interlocked in tight, powerful cooperation and separated sharply as though they didn't want to touch each other or even share the same leg. His calves were round and full as large caliber cannon shot or tightly angular and diamond shaped, depending on how much he flexed his foot at the ankle. His phenomenally massive muscles displayed surprisingly little vascularity. Everything; his pecs, his biceps, delts, quads, lats - were full, round, huge and smooth. His skin glowed as it tightly covered his muscular body, The overall effect invited comparisons to unyielding metals like polished steel or unblemished forged iron. Even his gleaming hair had the look of burnished copper. Chris tore his attention from his reflection and glanced in the direction of the Hulk. Could it be true? In the space of half an hour, could he have gone from being helplessly manhandled by what he thought was a scrawny, homeless guy to having the muscle to not only survive an impact with the Incredible Hulk, but to leave the Hulk sprawled insensate on the ground afterward. It didn't seem possible to Chris. Until he returned his attention to his reflection once more. He tentatively raised his right arm, he swallowed nervously, then flexed his biceps. His arm instantly expanded in a way that was reminiscent of the kind of flaring mushroom-cloud that followed a nuclear detonation, and seemed to pulse with as much power. "Yeah!" The boy whooped, nodding with approval. "Seems possible now!" The Hulk had nothing on Chris. Even though he was two feet shorter than the emerald giant, his muscles were easily as impressive. Chris smiled. "I look like nothing in the world could stop me." Once again he turned back toward the direction of the fallen Hulk. "Well, there's one way to find out." He said, still a little nervous about the course of action taking shape in his mind. Part 3 Chris took a step in the unconscious Hulk's direction then stopped. An adventurous smile settled on his face and he scanned the sky overhead. "If it's good enough for the Hulk..." He said. Keeping his eyes on the sky and swinging his arms forward, Chris squatted and with one leap, his massive legs propelled him through the air. He landed next to the Hulk, the immense weight of his powerfully muscled body shaking the ground when he landed. Chris stood up straight from his landing like an Olympic gymnast who had just nailed a dismount. A cocky grin briefly graced his face as he noted the precision with which he had hit his desired landing point. He moved to stand over the Hulk and he could hear the beast groaning as his eyelids began to flutter. He seemed to have been jarred awake by the force of Chris's landing. Again, a pang of doubt welled up momentarily beneath Chris's powerful chest. He wondered if he might be wasting his one opportunity to get away from the Hulk. What if he wasn't even close to being as strong as the Hulk. If he ticked the brute off, the Hulk might well injure him badly...or worse. Then again, the Hulk was the one that had his clock cleaned the most by their collision. "I've gotta know." Chris said to himself, steadying his resolve. Chris was gawking at the Hulk's huge torso when the brute's emerald abs flexed powerfully into action, effortlessly powering the Hulks massive torso into a sitting position. The Hulk looked around rapidly as he struggled to his feet. He didn't seem to pay any particular attention to Chris. Once upright, the giant swayed unsteadily for a moment and Chris resisted the impulse to reach out and steady him. The Hulk rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly. "What...What happen to Hulk?" The Hulk managed with confusion. Chris breathed a sigh of relief. The Hulk literally didn't seem to know what had hit him. Which was fine by Chris. "Umm, a-are you okay, Hulk?" Chris asked. "Yes!" The Hulk answered instantly as though the question was an insult. "Hulk not hurt!" He added a little too insistently as he focused on Chris. The Hulk looked down from his seven foot height at this shorter, but tank-like boy, his head just below the Hulk's chin. The Hulk clamped a big green hand on the boy's powerful looking shoulder. "Chris ... must come with Hulk." The Hulk asserted. He grabbed Chris by the upper arm with his other meat-hook of a hand. Only that hand didn't look quite so thick or quite so powerful as it failed to fully close around Chris's phenomenally large biceps. "No!" Chris answered assertively. ‘Talk about a one track mind' he thought to himself. The Hulk was like a dog with a bone. Shrugging the Hulk's hand away with enough force to stagger the giant, Chris worked up the courage to challenge the Hulk. "Listen Hulk, I'm not going with you, so deal with it." The Hulk was surprised by Chris's strength, he hadn't expected the boy to be able to resist. The Hulk reached down and grabbed one of Chris's wrists, this time, avoiding the boy's massive biceps, which made for a more unwieldy handle. The Hulk tried to drag Chris into him, reaching to secure a grip with his other massive hand. The boy didn't budge. "Muscle-boy is stupid to fight Hulk." The Hulk closed in on Chris and grabbed his other arm. The two juggernauts struggled against each other. The Hulk's brutish brain struggled as much with the concept that Chris was able to resist him as Chris's mind wrestled with how effectively he was holding his own against the Incredible Hulk...and he wasn't even really trying that hard. Chris looked directly ahead, seeing the Hulk's massive round pecs, rippling and surging as they jousted. The Hulk's strained face looked down on him from nearly two feet above. He saw the Hulk's flexed and struggling arms. He felt supremely powerful holding this beast at bay. A surge of cocky confidence welled up inside Chris as he easily compensated for the Hulk's escalating efforts at overpowering him. When the boy demanded more strength from his unstoppable new body, it responded instantly. His strength seemed to just keep surging as he exerted himself. The Hulk roared and with a tremendous burst of effort, he forced their arms down. The Hulk closed in on Chris and flexed his powerful emerald chest in front of his face, as if to drive home this perceived victory to his opponent as he half growled - half roared in the boy's face. The beast was almost always able to instinctively gain a psychological advantage over his opponents just by displaying his intimidating muscles. Chris smiled. He wasn't feeling at all intimidated. In fact, he was feeling ready to try a little intimidation of his own as that new feeling of strange supreme confidence flooded over him. He stepped in even closer to the Hulk. "You sure do like to flex, huh, Hulk." Chris observed. Suddenly, as though the most powerful being on the planet wasn’t struggling to hold his arms in place, Chris powered his hands to a position behind his back. The Hulk's eyes widened. He thought he had finally overpowered the boy and was holding his arms immobile. But the motion of Chris's arms dragged the Hulk's hands along until the brute's own rippling green arms were encircling the shorter kid. The Hulk growled with confusion as maintaining his grip on Chris's wrists forced the taller brute to stoop down until he was face to face with the young man. The Hulk's lower jaw thumped to rest against the top of Chris's protruding pecs. Still, the Hulk stubbornly refused to let go, just as Chris had hoped. Chris wanted to force the Hulk to release him, but in a way that would demonstrate his power to the utmost. "Maybe I should try it - flexing, I mean - just to see what the big deal is." Chris said. As he spoke, he ever so slightly bounced his massive pecs a couple of times, buffeting the Hulks head and causing it to snap backward with each bounce. Smiling at the way he was rapidly getting the hang of controlling his massive new muscles, the boy then began slowly tensing his mighty chest in earnest. It expanded so much that the Hulk's upper torso was soon pressed tight against a vast expanse of bulging pec-muscle. Chris leveled off his exertion and looked the Hulk right in the eyes, their faces inches apart. "Feels a little different than last time huh, Hulk." Chris taunted, referring to the earlier episode in which the two had been physically pitted against one another chest to chest - when the Hulk had trapped the boy in a bear-hug as a means of subduing him. Even then, Chris now suspected that his chest had been at least equal to the Hulk's in power, if not size. But now! Chris grinned. "Ask me again if I give up." The Hulk snarled and released Chris's wrists and clamped his hands together behind the young man’s back, fully securing his second bear-hug around that deeply muscled torso. "Puny muscle-boy thinks he is stronger than Hulk, but Hulk will show him. Muscle-boy will give up." The Hulk pulled upward and inward with his incomprehensibly powerful arms, pressing Chris against the thick muscular plates of his over-muscled green pecs, which the brute simultaneously flexed into even thicker granite-like slabs. Their powerful chests bulldozed into each other - emerald green struggling against lightly freckled alabaster. In response to having his wrists released, Chris started to wrap his now unencumbered arms around the Hulk in a retaliatory bearhug of his own, but then he just smirked and casually clasped his hands behind his head, instead. He glanced proudly from one massive lulling biceps to the other where, even totally relaxed, they bulged like oversized cannonballs at each side of his head. "Don't think I'll be needing you guys for this." He said, playfully addressing his mighty arms. He turned his attention back to the Hulk. "Is that it Hulk? I mean, is that all ya got or are ya just getting started or...?" Chris was asking with polite curiosity when he suddenly began to breath in deeply and opened his mouth in an exaggerated fashion. "Whew...Sorry Hulk...please excuse me." Chris apologized through a pretty convincing yawn as he moved one hand to cover his mouth. "You know how it is when you're feeling bored." The Hulk roared at being mocked and squeezed down on Chris's stubbornly expanding pecs even harder. But it was no use. Continuing his faux yawn, Chris, with only the flexing of those unrelenting pecs of his, forced the Hulks straining pectorals to flatten and yield against the boy’s more powerful muscles - even though the Hulk's arms were working in concert with his overmatched chest. The Hulk's straining frighteningly muscled arms trembled and then they too lost ground against the power exerted by the expansion of the boy's all-powerful pecs. Then with a casual, lightening quick increase of his flex, Chris almost effortlessly broke the Hulk's grip. The Hulk stumbled backward a few steps, and gaped at Chris with stunned confusion as he rubbed his sore, over-strained, and thoroughly out-muscled pecs. Chris laughed. "What's wrong Hulk? Why'd you let go?" He asked stepping right back up to the Hulk, making sure the taller muscle-beast had a close-up view of the burgeoning muscular chest that had just staggered the giant. "I wasn't ready to give up yet." Chris said with totally insincere confusion. The boy then dropped his massive arms and laughed as he reached up to place one of them on the Hulk's shoulder in a false show of camaraderie. He chuckled haughtily. "It's Ok, big guy. Couldn't quite hang on, huh? That's too bad." Chris said with mocking sympathy. The young man then disengaged and turned to stand directly in front of the utterly dazed Hulk. Chris clapped his hands a couple of times and cheered, "Good effort though Hulk." He then squatted slightly and, performing a congratulatory ritual he'd observed jock's use after successfully completing some athletic feat or another, Chris threw his arms back and jumped a couple of feet straight up into the air, angling slightly toward the Hulk. In the split second that he bumped the befuddled Hulk - chest to chest - he gave those massive pecs of his another quick, pulse of a flex. The boy's insanely broad, thick chest bulged explosively into granite mountains of rippling, striated power. Their expansion slammed into the Hulk, blitzing the overmatched brute's already pummeled pecs as Chris chest-bumped the taller muscle-beast flat on his back again, this time by the power of the mere flexing of the boy's dominating muscles. Chris thumped back down to the ground, shaking the woods around them again. "Oopsie. Sorry Hulkster." Chris said as he brushed imaginary dust from his pecs. "Guess these guys don't know their own strength, huh?" The Hulk lifted his head and stared uncomprehendingly at Chris, who chuckled. "Looks like you don't like flexing so much when somebody else does it." Chris laughed. "Somebody with some real muscle." Chris kept the taunts coming. "Somebody stronger than you." The Hulk scramble to his feet, enraged. "Hulk is STRONGEST one there is!" The Hulk proclaimed savagely. He lifted his massive green arms into a crude and inhumanly awesome double-biceps pose. "Hulk will show muscle-boy who is stronger!" Again Chris moved in on the Hulk, totally unimpressed. "Well, it's usually the guy with the biggest muscles." He pointed out, and casually matched the Hulk's pose; Matched it, and exceeded it. "And it looks like ‘muscle-boy' has got ya beat in that department, Hulkie." Chris announced as the Hulk's freakishly huge biceps were eclipsed in size by the arms of the much shorter young man. "Bah!" The Hulk spat and squeezed his huge green muscles harder, causing them to swell even larger. The Hulk's white teeth stood out against his green gums as his lips pulled back in a grimace of effort. He was actually able to pump his biceps several inches and match Chris's size. "Wow!" Chris said. "We've got some pretty huge guns, don't we Hulk." Chris chuckled, "Let's really pump 'em up." Chris grinned, and straightened his arms out. Then he slowly resumed his flex. As the boy's arms bent back into a double biceps pose, his biceps heaved and pulsated with power. A barely visible vein appeared along the tight curving surfaces of both of Chris's previously completely smooth arm muscles. Chris's biceps were now easily twice as big as the Hulk's. The Hulk dropped his own arms to his side where they hung limply. The brutes eyes bulged and his jaw dropped open. "Something wrong, Hulk?" Chris asked, pretending to be concerned when he saw the Hulk give up trying to match him. The young man once again straightened those Hulk-humbling arms. He flexed again, with the same casual ease and his biceps towered even higher into the air. Multiple, branching veins like lightening bolts now crisscrossed his arms and his bi's bulged up into twin volcanic peaks that erupted with impossible size and power. Now Chris's biceps were easily three times the size of the Hulk's comparatively puny lookingarms. "What's a matter, Hulk? Can't keep up with muscle-boy?" Chris finished with a smirk as he stepped even closer to the Hulk, trying to intimidate the beast even more. Sneering, Chris dropped his arms. "You look like you've had enough Hulk But you know what?" The kid gave one of his now relaxed biceps an affectionate, meaty slap. "These babies were just getting started." The Hulk snarled and tried to push Chris back. Chris was so strong that he didn't even have to try to resist the Hulk, the brute couldn't even budge him. Chris looked down at where the Hulk had planted a big green hand in the middle of the boys chest and was shoving ineffectively against the powerful high school student. Chris was a little miffed that the Hulk would actually dare to touch the muscles he'd been using to humble the beast with such ease. A wicked grin settled on Chris's face as he thought of something new to try. Obviously the Hulk was a slow learner. He'd have to reinforce the lesson. Chris glanced down at the Hulk's hand and clucked his tongue. "Ya gotta learn to respect the pecs, Hulkster." He looked back into the Hulk's eyes and added, resignedly. "It's for your own good." Chris struck a quick most-muscular pose, again calling on the overwhelming size and power of his over-muscled chest. The Hulks massive hand looked momentarily child-like where it splayed against Chris's growing granite muscle and then, with the merest forward shrug of Chris's shoulders, that thick hand was swallowed up, disappearing from view in the deep crevice between the boys rapidly thickening pecs. Now instead of pushing on the boy, the Hulk was tugging, trying to free himself from the vise of solid muscle; But the Incredible Hulk wasn't strong enough to free his hand. "This pose is called a crab, or a most-muscular." Chris narrated. "In my case I think ‘most-muscular' might be literally true." The boy beamed proudly. "Let Hulk go or Hulk will SMASH!" Warned the Hulk as he continued to struggle to free himself. Chris merely gave a short derisive laugh. He cupped a hand to one ear making his biceps swell bigger than ever. "Did you say 'smash'?" He asked mockingly. With that, Chris sneered and flexed his chest hard and huge. The Hulk's eyes flew open wide and the brute opened his mouth in a silent scream. The bones of his massive, green mitt felt like they were being ground to powder between Chris's rippling pecs. The boy’s muscles seemed to just thicken and thicken and thicken. Soon the Hulk felt his wrist and forearm start to deform as they too were being engulfed by the steadily expanding mountains of striated hyper-muscular power. "gnnhh...no..." The Hulk managed to protest weakly. "Oh, but YES!" Chris growled back smugly and kept flexing his chest harder and more huge with each passing second.. For several panicky moments the Hulk roared and growled in frantic desperation, his arm racked with intense pain. Then the brute seemed to become exhausted. "M-muscle-boy....too....s- strong." The Hulk whimpered. His massive body went limp as he surrendered and stopped struggling. It was just no use. The boy's strength was totally overwhelming. "Muscle- boy...hurts Hulk's hand..." Chris sighed, as though once again bored with his opponent. "Yep, pretty much." He taunted mercilessly as he continued flexing his chest even more. Making a show of ignoring the Hulk, Chris struck another double biceps pose, muscle flexing on top of muscle. His powerful heart pumped blood with the force of a raging river through the throbbing veins covering those arms, each beat momentarily compressing the Hulk's trapped hand with that much more pain. Chris's biceps were bigger than ever, he seemed to be slowly exploring the limits of their size as they peaked above his head with what seemed like very little effort on his part. Chris scrutinized his biceps, turning his head from one to the other. "Whadday think Hulkie? Four? Maybe five times the size of yours? Wonder how they'd look if I got a decent pump and really put some effort into it." The Hulk covered his eyes with his free hand and threw his head back. "ARRrrrgggh...l-let Hulk go." The Hulk pleaded as he dropped to his knees. Chris stared at the Hulk, kneeling before him. "Oooh!" Chris said with mock sympathy and disappointment, as though the Hulk had given the wrong answer on a game-show quiz. "You didn't use the magic word." The Hulk heard nothing Chris said, His world consisted only of pain. By some lucky cosmic coincidence, the next words out of the brutalized behemoth's mouth rescued him. "Please...muscle-boy...s-stop." The Hulk pleaded in a barely audible whimper. Chris dropped his arms and focused on the Hulk again. "Manners, Hulk." He sighed. "My mom always says people respond to manners." Chris put his hands on his hips and made a show of considering the Hulk's request. He smiled and relented. He relaxed his pecs, not enough to allow the Hulk to free his hand, but enough to ease the pain. The Hulk moaned with relief as he emerged from his world of agony. The Hulk tugged tentatively so see if he could completely extract his had. He still couldn't. The brute didn't know what to do, he wanted to free himself, but he didn't want to do anything that might provoke the terrifying power in the mutant muscles that held him trapped and send them crushing in on his hand once more. "What...what does muscle boy want?" They Hulk asked with grudging submissiveness. The question brought the cocky teen-ager up short. "Hmm." Chris replied. He clasped his hands behind his back and rose up on the balls of his feet a couple of times as he thought about it. The Hulk was bounced up and down with humiliating ease by the motion. "That's a very good question, Hulk." Chris added as he continued to considered the Hulk's beleaguered query. He'd tested himself against the Hulk and found the brute to be not much of a challenge. No challenge at all, really. Now instead of testing his own strength he found that he was more interested in demonstrating that strength. He'd beaten the Hulk with his pecs, he'd humbled the beast with his biceps...how else might he reveal the extent of his power using this being, whom the rest of the world regarded as the most powerful creature on the planet. An idea began to form in Chris's mind. "Hey Hulk, is it true that the madder you get, the stronger you get?" Chris asked, as much to himself as to the Hulk. The Hulk just stared at Chris blankly, but the boy was nodding to himself. He rubbed his chin as if dredging up a vaguely remembered lesson from school. "Yeah, I think I remember reading that somewhere." Relieved of most of the pain in his hand, the Hulk was starting to get restless with being held immobile. "Get up Hulk." Chris ordered rubbing his hands together gingerly in anticipation of what was coming. The Hulk's glare intensified as his dim mind wrestled with the impulse to once again attack the muscular boy who was humiliating him. "Awww, what's wrong?" Chris teased. "Don't tell me the Strongest One There Is is afraid of puny muscle-boy?" A low growl began to emanate from the Hulk's throat. At having his words mockingly hurled back at him. "I said get up." Chris warned casually and tensed his pecs just enough to remind the Hulk of the pain he was capable of causing the beast. The Hulk growled louder and struggled to his feet. "I'm going to give you a chance to fight back here Hulk." Chris explained, charitably. The boy clasped his hands behind his back again. His repeated use of this posture seemed to be the equivalent of boasting: "Look ma, no hands." as he manhandled the Hulk. Chris smiled a bit when he saw the Hulk's free right hand clench into a fist. "I'm gonna let you hit me as hard as you can, as many times as you want." Chris explained with condescending benevolence. He slid his hand down to his muscular abdomen and gave it a couple firm slaps. "The Incredible Hulk should be strong enough to take on the tummy of a pasty little high-school football reject, right?" Chris laughed at the Hulk's uncertainty. "C'mon big guy, don't be a wimp. Take your best shot." The Hulk's growl was rising in volume and he was beginning to show his teeth in an angry sneer. In a flash the Hulk launched a thundering punch to Chris's abs. Chris's only reaction was to look frustrated. "Aw now, don't hold back Hulk." Chris pressed his mouth into a tight line of consternation and huffed an impatient breath out his nose. Then he explained slowly to the Hulk: "If you don't start hitting me hard enough to make me feel it, I'm gonna hafta turn this loose on ya again." Demonstrating what he meant, Chris briefly tensed the muscles of his chest around the Hulk's trapped left hand again. The angry look on the Hulks face diluted briefly with panic and he started hammering away at Chris's abs with his free hand. Chris watched, unimpressed and considered ways to humiliate and anger the Hulk, hoping that his anger would make him more of a challenge. "I could take punches like this all day Hulk." The boy mocked. "C'mon. Hit me harder!" The Hulk raged at Chris's goading and struggled to hit Chris harder. The boys steely abdominals rose and fell slightly as he breathed casually amid the Hulk's onslaught. So far, Chris's plan wasn't working. Chris closed his eyes and smirked. "Hmm, let's see...is that the Hulk hitting my belly or a five year old girl?" He said, ridiculing the Hulk's effort. The Hulk roared and started pulling himself bodily toward Chris with each hit, using his trapped hand for leverage to add to the power of his punches. Despite the powerful tugging and pounding, Chris didn't budge, but the ground began to shake around them. "Shut up! Muscle-boy had better shut-up!" The Hulk bellowed as he pounded harder and harder on Chris's unyielding body. "Why?" Chris laughed derisively. "It's not like the Hulk can shut me up. You'd have to do way better than this. You may as well face it big guy, " Chris's eyes twinkled with glee as he finished the taunt. "compared to me, The big bad Hulk is as weaker than a puny human." The Hulk bellowed with inarticulate rage, but he couldn't even affect Chris's voice as the boy taunted the taller muscle beast. "Yeah, keep ‘em comin', that's it." Chris chuckled at the Hulk's frantic efforts. "C'mon, harder big guy!" After letting the Hulk pound away a while longer, getting more and more frustrated and angry all the while. Chris sensed that the Hulk had reached the height of his strength. Still, the boy easily withstood the Hulk's power. Eventually, despite his anger, the Hulk began to tire. "Muscle-boy’s muscles...too hard." The Hulk bleated with pure frustration between desperate gasps. "...too strong....for Hulk to smash". Chris, though disappointed with the Hulk's increased but still inadequate strength, smirked with satisfaction at the admission, which did seem to enrage the Hulk a bit more at having made it. The burst of anger helped the Hulk continue his assault a while longer. "This is going nowhere". Chris said with a disappointed sigh. "Time to end it." "NO! Hulk will find a way to BEAT you!" The Hulk cried out desperately as he began to catch a second wind. Chris rolled his eyes and sighed "I guess I did say you could punch me for as long as you wanted, didn't I." The boy said, as though now regretting that promise. Then he grinned wickedly. "Guess I'll just have to make you want to stop." The Hulk was savagely pounding away as Chris spoke. The boy's patronizing tone was causing the beast's anger to spike once more. "Hulk will SMASH." The Hulk roared with desperate rage as he hammered completely unaffected abs that looked like something off the cover of ‘Mutant Muscle and Fitness." "Yeah, right." Chris laughed. "Smash this." The boy mocked and for the first time crunched down, actually flexing his abs. Every bone in the Hulks right hand shattered on impact with Chris's abs, which became impossibly even more ripped and defined as he flexed them. The Hulk wailed in pain and once again dropped to his knees, Where he stared with fear and disbelief at the wall of chiseled stomach muscle in front of his face. There wasn't even any skeletal support directly behind those abs and still the muscles were so powerful and hard that the Hulk had shattered his hand against them like a bundle of dry twigs. The Hulk just stared, unsure what to do. He couldn't run, the muscle-boy still held his hand trapped in yet another set of overwhelmingly powerful muscles. Chris examined his impervious rippling belly approvingly. "Sweet!" He said with a laugh. Then he noticed a small red smear just above his navel. The Hulk noticed it too and held up his ham-sized fist to display a trickle of blood oozing from around a couple of his knuckles. The Hulk grimaced and shook out his meaty paw a moment, then pressed the bleeding knuckles to his mouth. "Look's like you've made a little mess Hulkster." An idea occurred to Chris as he watched the Hulk tend to his wound. He grinned with delight. He stepped closer to the Hulk, bringing his rippling stomach almost in contact with the Hulk's face. "Lick it off." the boy commanded, pointing to a couple more smudges of the Hulk's blood that marred the pale skin of his matchless, muscular mid-section. The Hulk refused. "That wasn't a request." Chris pointed out and with the merest twitching of one pectoral muscle, the boy snapped two of the fingers of the Hulk's hand where he held it imbedded within the muscular vise of his chest. Chris felt the bones in the Hulk's hand give way. He loved this feeling of power. With a cry of pain, the Hulk complied - he began licking the boys abs, he reluctantly lapped away the traces of his blood from the very muscles that had just bloodied his poor hand with their unyielding muscle-tone. "Awright, Awright." Chris squirmed a bit and pulled away, causing the Hulk to pitch forward painfully onto his not yet healed hand.. "That tickles." The peerless mutant powerhouse said through an incongruous giggle. He rubbed his tummy absently and pulled his hand away, inspecting the slight moisture there. "And it's kind of gross", he said and wiped his hand on the straining material of his shorts where they stretched tight across his round, powerfully muscled backside. Those extra-baggy shorts had shredded and ridden up his barrel sized thighs so that they now fit him like a pair of very brief, square-cut swimming trunks. His hand still held fast, the Hulk slowly climbed to a standing position, struggling to minimize physical contact with Chris's intimidating body as he did so. In the meantime, Chris was rather comically exploring his butt after feeling how different it felt when he'd wiped his hand on his shorts. He had both hands planted on his behind and was exploring his steely-hard, rounded glutes - testing their resilience and shape. He noticed the Hulk glaring at him and grinned. "Hey, this is all new to me, okay?" He removed his hands and planted them on his hips and let out a little satisfied breath as if to say: "Ok, what next." He noticed that the Hulk was shuffling his feet like a restless child and making little frustrated grunting noises as he looked around anxiously, everywhere but directly at Chris. "What's up with you?" Chris asked, amused. The Hulk scowled and seemed reluctant to respond but finally blurted out. "Hulk's hand." The brute grumbled and gestured sheepishly toward his trapped hand with his nearly healed one. Chris peeked over the top of his Hulk-conquering pecs and noted the brutes fist was still trapped past the wrist. "Oh, yeah." Chris snickered. "Um...I stopped flexing ages ago." The Hulk gave his hand a solid tug. It didn't budge. His brow furrowed and he looked from the boy's unyielding chest muscles back up at Chris's face. Chris grinned proudly. "Yeah, my muscle tone's a bitch huh, Hulk." The Hulk grabbed his stuck fist with his still-sore right hand, planted his feet and heaved. He strained for several seconds to no avail. "Well, huh," Chris said looking slightly puzzled. He rapped his knuckles probingly against one meaty pec. It made a deep bass "thump-thump" that the Hulk could feel in his hand. "Guess I might have a bit of a pump going. Maybe kicking your butt was more of a workout than it felt like." The boy then laughed dismissing the idea with a wave. "Nah, It's gotta be just good old fashioned muscle tone. Put some muscle into it Hulk." The Hulk continued straining to free his hand for another few seconds before Chris finally rolled his eyes at the Hulk's pathetic effort and pulled his elbows around behind his rib-cage, which cause his deep pecs to press together somewhat less firmly. The Hulk broke free and stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance. By this time, all their jostling about had brought them near to the cliff face that had earlier halted the Hulk's motion when he'd ricocheted off Chris's more powerful body. That had been the first incident in which the Hulk had been so totally overpowered by someone since Emil Blonsky had initially been transformed into the creature known as the Abomination. But even the ease with which Blonsky had swatted the Hulk in that encounter paled in comparison to the degree to which Chris surpassed the Hulk in raw muscle. Now free, the Hulk steadied himself as unfamiliar impulses warred in his dim mind. The deepest most primitive part of his brain raged and demanded an immediate and unceasing attack on the opponent before him. But his higher cognitive mind, atrophied as it was, had done the math: The Hulk was seriously out-muscled here After having helped the Hulk free himself, Chris brought his shoulders forward once more, squaring them with a proud little bounce. He couldn't get over his new self. He bent at the waist to once again examine himself. It was still hard for him to accept that the Hulk's onslaughts had left him completely unmarred. Chris then noticed something for the first time. His brow knitted with curiosity. "Wait a minute." The boy said aloud to himself. "I didn't know that was muscle." He said as he hooked a thumb inside the front of the waistband of his shorts and pulled the tightly stretched material away from the mosaic of muscle at his waist and peered down inside. His eyes widened, he was obviously impressed with what he saw there. "Or those either for that matter." He added. Letting the waistband snap he grinned at the Hulk. "This day just gets better and better." "Now," Chris began more seriously. "What to do with you." The young man crossed his massive arms across an equally huge chest and considered the Hulk for a moment. "I'm not real keen on anyone finding out I'm a mutant." Chris said, apparently thinking aloud and not really attempting to dialog with the Hulk. "Right now, Bruce Banner is the only person who knows about me." Chris focused intently on the Hulk. The beast became uneasy under that glare and began to inch backward, away from the boy. "I could make my debut as the most powerful hero on this planet now - claim I'm a space-alien or maybe some kind of super-soldier here to defend the world against powerful and dangerous threats." The boy took a step toward the Hulk. "Threats like you Hulkie." Chris nodded. He was really starting to like this idea. "And I could do it all without anyone ever having to find out that I'm really a mutant. All I'd have to do is make sure Banner never squeals." Chris began to crack his knuckles the sound was like rifle-shots. The motion caused his biceps and triceps to work against each other like surging ocean swells. "I'll bet I could make sure of that right now." He added, staring the Hulk down coldly. Chris moved in on the Hulk, who bumped into the cliff that was now at his back. The Hulk saw the boy coming and felt something that this young man was causing him to become more and more familiar with: Fear. The Hulk moved a few steps laterally to clear the cliff then squatted low to the ground, his great green leg muscles coiled, ready to launch the massive beast far away in an escape leap. The Hulk shot upward explosively, desperately trying to get away from Chris. But a fraction of an instant after he left the ground, he felt tremendous pressure clamp down around one of his ankles and he was brought to a complete, jarring halt. Chris had grabbed the Hulk by his right ankle, cancelling the force of his leap with one mighty arm. As the Hulk was violently jerked back to the ground, Chris caught the beast in a bear-hug, their two thick torso's thumping into each other. The Hulk placed both meaty palms against Chris's chin and pushed. He may as well been a toddler trying to push over a fire-hydrant. "Don't try that again Hulk." Chris warned. "Remember what I did to your hand?" The boy caused a thick wave of striated sinew to roll up his pecs. The Hulk felt his own broad chest compress painfully under the movement. "I'm pretty sure I could do that to your whole body...If I wanted to." The Hulk struggled to reclaim the breath that had just been knocked out of him by the impact with the far more densely muscled boy. "No. No. Let...Hulk...go." The Hulk protested in a near total panic. "Don't get yer purple panties in a wad Hulkster". Chris smirked. "I'm through with you for now. I need to talk to Banner." At the mention of that name, the Hulk's face contorted with rage and hatred. "Puny Banner..." The Hulk began, but Chris merely glared at the Hulk and shook his head as though admonishing an unruly child. The boy gave the Hulk a little squeeze. The Hulk's defiant look vanished instantly to be replace by the fearful look of a trapped animal. "That's better." Chris smiled. "Now, I'm betting that you and Banner have at least a subconscious awareness of each other." Chris explained as he tightened his hold further. The Hulk struggled but couldn't even begin to free himself. The green brute tightened every gargantuan muscle in his torso in attempt to counter Chris's bear-hug. "At least...for your sake I hope so." Chris finished. "Banner!" Chris called aloud. "In about thirty seconds, there's going to be exactly enough space between my forearms and my big bad bod for one scrawny little physicist." Chris explained. "If your big green buddy is still here, well..." Chris grinned confidently up into the Hulk's face. "He'll be so much guacamole." Chris continued more softly, addressing the Hulk. "If you can, I'd cooperate with puny Banner if I were you." The boy advised. The Hulk screamed in rage, then agony. His arms alternately flailed helplessly then pounded on Chris's mountain-range of a back. His mighty gamma-spawned muscles trembled as Chris's rock-solid arms and chest began to mash them flat. Then the Hulk went limp in utter surrender. His arms draped down the conquering boy's back where they hung limply. "Banner..." the Hulk croaked in a hoarse whisper. "Banner...come back. Hulk not like...muscle-boy." Retreating against such unquestionably superior power, the Hulk's immense green musculature seemed to melt away more and more with each passing second. Soon Chris stood victorious. He'd humbled and vanquished the Hulk in a way that was unprecedented. Banner stared at the boy from his prison of teen sinew, the physicist had never retained so much detailed memory from one of his transformation's into the Hulk. He guessed that this was because his Hulk persona had never willing relinquished control over their shared physiology. For the first time in memory since the day he was caught in the New Mexico desert gamma- bomb blast that had unleashed the Hulk on the world, Bruce could not sense his other personality lurking in that dark corner of his mind, so thorough was the Hulk's cowing at Chris's hands. "How much do you remember, Doc?" Chris asked. "Enough to know that you are probably about to kill me." Banner replied." He didn't sound at all frightened, in fact if this phenomenal boy intended to kill him, part of Banner welcomed the idea of peaceful oblivion. Chris looked momentarily confused. "Kill you?" Then the boy grinned. "Not unless I have to. Besides, you think I couldn't have offed you just as easily while you were tall, green and stupid?" Banner gulped. "Then, uh..." He tried squirming a bit, but he couldn't move in Chris's grip. "What are you going to do with me?" "Make a deal, of course." Chris replied. "He loosened his grip enough so that Banner slid to the ground. Banner stumbled back grateful for some distance between himself and that much raw, Hulk-pounding power. "A deal?" "You've got a secret I want kept." Chris explained. "And I've got the means to keep your little alter-ego in check if he ever gets out of hand, again." Chris demonstrated those "means" by sending the two most powerful biceps in existence towering above Banner in a double biceps pose. Chris beamed with pride. "I think it's more than a fair agreement." The boy's features darkened ominously. "The alternative..." He said trailing off and stepping into Banner, bumping the much, much smaller man back several steps. "Is far less pleasant." Banner, thought it over for a moment. He didn't know if finally having the means to keep the Hulk in check was a balanced trade-off for having helped unleash Chris on the world, but he also didn't see that he had much of a choice. With a reluctant nod, he accepted Chris's terms. Again, Chris beamed. "Oh, and one more thing." Chris added. "I want to make a big entrance on the hero scene." Banner didn't see where he had any say in this matter one way or the other. "Um, Ok, but..." "We'll have to work on your ability to change into the Hulk, wouldn't want to have to smack you around every time I want him to come out and play. Then I'm thinking maybe I'll round up the Abomination and maybe Juggernaut and unleash you all on...I don't know, maybe the next Super-bowl crowd - No, wait...the World Cup...then, in front of the whole world I'll save the day by pounding on all three of ya. Whaddya think? No, wait. I gotta better idea..." Chris placed an irresistible hand on Bruce's shoulder and shoved him along as he continued to chatter on excitedly. Banner could only sigh and struggle to come to terms with his new world order as he was ushered along.

I have been reading everyone's stories for a long time now. Figured i'd start writing some too. Let me know what you think! Bill pt 1 “It has been a long time since you've focused on yourself Bill, ever since your wife passed two years ago.” Brian said. “I know, but I just want what’s best for Nate…it’s been hard working full-time here and having to be a single father.” Bill is a 52 year old father of Nathan, a 18 year old who just finished high school and is looking towards the future. Bill is about 5’8’’ with a skinny build, only weighs about 150 lbs and has salt and pepper hair which is a buzz cut to his head. He is a police officer for the local town and has been for about 19 years. He is proud of his son Nathan, but has always been envious of how easy he could build muscle through his high school sports. Nathan is about the same height as his dad, 5’9’’, but has a medium build and weighs about 195 lbs. Brian and Bill were driving around in their patrol car. Bill was thinking of how he can be more of a father to his son, more specifically, how he could build muscle. He would consider himself athletic and lifts at the gym often through the week, tho throughout his life he has never been an easy gainer. Bill looks over at Brian and asks, “Hey Brian, were do you workout?” Brian: “Why do you ask?” Bill looks down and says, “I have noticed you lift a fair amount, and it really shows…you’re built.” Brian: “Well actually to tell the truth, this is not all me…don’t get me wrong, I’ve put the effort in, but I’ve had some help along the way.” Bill: “Do you take steroids?” Brian: “No, something else…can you keep a secret?” Bill has different thoughts going through his head about what Brian could say next, but he was curious. Bill: “Sure man.” Brian: “Well… I’ve actually been involved in some medical trial study down at that lab on Gateway Blvd, you know the place?” Bill: “Yeah, I’ve passed it by a few times, never been there before though.” Brian: “Well, recently they have been focusing their research on building muscle. I don’t really understand how it works so much, but man I’ve really noticed a difference. No side affects either.” Bill: “Really! That sounds great, are they looking for more candidates?” Brian: “Unfortunately this study is finished, but they are looking for people to trial a new growth serum which is supposed to provide better results, here is the scientist’s card, his name is Sam. Tell him I sent you and you interest in the study if you are.” Bill: “Thanks Brian, I’ll think about it.” Bill finished work around 3pm. He was sitting in his car thinking about the conversation he had with Brian today. This is something Bill has thought about much of his life. Maybe this study is his answer to a better him. Bill pulled out the card…then his cell. Bill got home soon after. He actually setup an appointment for the next day for evaluation at the lab, they actually said they could possibly do the trial tomorrow night if he is a candidate, he would just have to stay overnight. Bill was already off for the next couple days, so it worked off perfectly. He also explained to Nate that he wouldn’t be home tomorrow night when he gets home, that he may be going out with some friends from work. Nathan understood. However he noticed something different about his dad. It was almost like he had a pep in his step again. Ever since his mom passed, his dad has always been positive, but always seemed to be a little held back at the same time because of it. Nathan was curous, but brushed it off. They headed off to bed, Bill looking forward to the next day. Bill showed up at the lab at 10am as instructed. Sam was there to greet him in the waiting room and brought him back to an exam room where Sam took many body measurements, a blood and urine sample, and had Bill fill out a bunch of paperwork on his health history as well as asking a bunch of questions. It felt like forever for Bill, but it had actually been about 2 hours, less than the 3 he was told. After, Sam said he would be back in about an hour as he processed the results. In the mean time Bill sat and watched some TV in the waiting room. As he sat he noticed that he didn’t see many staff around at all other than Sam, and was curious. “I guess this is a lab, they must be all in the back or something, spinning test tubes and such like you see in labs on TV” he thought. Sam came back soon after with a smile on his face, congrats Bill! You’re a candidate for the study! Bill’s spirits were lifted when he heard it. As the time passed, he was beginning to think he wasn’t going to work out for it. Bill agreed to participate in the study, he signed some papers and changed into a hospital gown. Bill felt strange in it but was ok. He then sat in a reclined chair in procedure room. Everything looked very clean and the room was bright. The table next to him had a computer as well as some syringes and other medical supplies. A camera was hanging from the ceiling for the study. Sam then went on to explain the procedure to Bill. Sam was going to give Bill a series of shots. The first was a type of relaxer to help with anxiety. Second was another shot, this was a type of chemical which would, in a way, prep the muscles for growth. The last was another shot, this was different however, and the one Bill was most anxious about. The last shot was the experimental growth hormone/testosterone which would have to be injected into the testicles directly. This is the first for human trials, but has worked well on the rat trial subjects with staggering results and no side effects noted. It only takes the last about 5-10 minutes to kick in, and works for about a 12 hour period. Sam went ahead and gave the relaxer first. He turned his back to prep for the next injection, it took him about 5 minutes to get it ready but he wanted to give the first shot a chance to work on Bill before the next two were given. Sam was serious in his work but came to notice that he didn’t hear anything from Bill for a while. He turned around to look at him. Bill was sitting in the chair with a blank look on his face, starring straight forward. “You ok Bill” Sam asked. “Yes, I’m fine.” Bill replied in a monotone voice. Sam was nervous after this strange response. He looked at the first shot he gave and typed the number off the vial into the computer to look it up, as the computer was searching, he prayed he hadn’t grabbed the wrong vial. He is never lax in his work. The results came. Sam was in shock, he had given Bill a highly experimental neurological suggestive serum, never been trialed. Sam then frantically checked Bill out by taking his vitals, and doing a full body exam. Everything checked out perfect except that Bill was highly suggestible. Bill basically did everything Sam asked. Sam then asked Bill to stand up out of the chair. He stood right away. He then asked him to walk to the door and back. Bill again did as he was told. Sam was scared but was getting a little excited at the same time. Mind control had always been a fetish of his. He then gave Bill a multitude of commands, which he followed just to make sure his assumptions were true. Bill did them all with no question. Sam then had a though in his mind. He then asked Bill to take off his gown. Bill did it right away and dropped it to the ground. Bill had an ok build as described earlier with a good amount of salt and pepper chest hair as well but the most distinguishing feature was his cock size. It was 7’’ soft. Sam would never consider himself gay, maybe bisexual. His work had taken up so much of his time, he didn’t have much of a personal life. At this moment though, he was feeling an attraction to Bill. Sam was about 28 and very skinny, weighed only about 135lb at 5’5’’. He always liked the way well build older men looked. Bill was almost that except for the muscle aspect, but Sam could change that. Sam was starting to get worked up at this point. He knew it was wrong but he decided he was the only one in the lab today, with no one to come over the weekend. He was safe. Bill was expected to stay in the lab overnight anyways. Sam decided to continue the study. He could cover up later. He then had Bill sit in the chair, still naked. “It will be better to see the results anyways…” Sam thought. He strapped him in and gave shot two. Bill did great with that. Now for the main event, what he was looking forward to anyways. Sam then thought for a second, why not give him a larger dose… He then turned around and drew up 3 more times the original dose in the syringe. Sam was getting a little nervous but excited at the same time. He was going to make the perfect man for him. Sam grabbed onto Bill’s testicles, admiring the size and shape, and gave a shot into both, Bill didn’t even flinch. Sam sat, observing the results for a while. Nothing happened. About 5 minutes had passed. But then Sam noticed something, Bill’s testicles began to enlarge ever so slightly. At this point he noticed that Bill was starting to moan out loud. Very softly at first but got louder through the starting process. The growth to Bill’s testicles progressed. They grew to the size of golf balls first, then tennis balls, then grapefruits, all over a matter of minutes. Bill's cock had morphed into a heavy column of meat. He'd even developed a massive juicy foreskin that bloated out the circumference of the cock and make it appear even larger. It had to be at least 15 inches in length and probably 10 inches around. It started to get hard in front of Sam as it bobbed and throbbed and seemed to be breathing on it's own. Then more changes began to happen. Veins on Bill’s cock were already huge, pumping large amounts of blood to his growing cock. Bill’s breathing increased as well. You could tell at this point that the serum was starting to spread to the rest of Bill’s body through his blood stream. Bill was starting to moan and grunt louder and louder, both in pleasure and in pain. Next, serum began to spread and work on other parts of Bill’s body. Sounds of growth and cracking came from Bill as he grew taller and more muscular by the second. Soon, he had a solid 8 pack of abs brick by brick. Lats began to spread like wings. Pecs began to enlarge forming a dip in between them and definite striations. His nipples began to point downwards as well. Next came his arms and legs. Biceps, triceps and forarms began to explode with growth. His quads and calves as well. Bill quickly turned from an in shape middle-aged man into a hot bodybuilder, all over a matter of minutes. The change was not over yet, Bill only had a small amount of chest hair before the process, now more chest hairs began springing up all over the now chiseled surface. He clean shaven face now had a good amount of scruffy growth upon it. Bill then fell to the ground on his knees and fists, still grunting and breathing hard. After about 15 min from the start of the growth process, it gradually slowed and stopped. Bill had built up quite a sweat by this point but was calming down. Sam was so excited at this point. He wanted to really see his subject. Sam then instructed Bill to stand up off the ground. He did right away. Bill now towered over Samat about 6’2’’, he had grown taller. Sam couldn’t help himself. He began to feel Bill’s muscles over his body. Sam was loving it. Bill’s chest and arms were so hard with muscle, Sam felt that he couldn’t dent them even if he tried his hardest. Bill was now the man Sam dreamed about, and he was under his control. Bill just stood still as Sam admired his creation of a man. Sam’s cock was rock hard at this point and he wanted more. Sam began to think about what he could do with Bill at this point. He didn’t really want Bill to continue to just follow commands, he wanted him to have a personality as well. Sam then came up with a perfect plan. “Bill”, Sam said. “Yes master” said Bill. “I want you to listen carefully to the following commands.” “Yes” said Bill. Same began, “When I say nook, you will regain your normal personality but will remain under my control, you will not question any of my commands or suggestions, I will still be your master and you will address me as such. You will increase your love for building muscle and developing your body. You will also now have an attraction to men as well, regardless of what you were attracted to before. Do you understand Bill?” “I understand master” Bill said. Sam then said, “Great, hey Bill, nook.” The glaze left Bill’s eyes and he began to look around. “Why am I naked….but these muscles, I never had this much.” Bill began to feel his chest , arms and much of the muscle on his body. Sam was loving this. Sam then said, “How do you feel Bill?” “Better than ever, this is what I have always wanted…I kinda feel

Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1194-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-two/ CHAPTER THREE I passed through the entrance to the Eagle as I had dozens of times before. The bar was dark and quiet – naturally as it was late on a Sunday night. The urgent, throbbing beat of tech house music mixed through the alcohol and sweat laden air. My cock twitched in my skin-tight jeans. I could feel my balls pressing against the denim. I was there to fuck. The downstairs appeared empty save for the bartender across the room. His broad back was turned to me. Long, dark hair spilled across his shoulders and almost to his waist. Huge triceps stretched the arms of his black t-shirt. I didn’t recognize him. It didn’t matter. As I approached, a thickly muscled Asian kid in a wife-beater jogged down the stairs at the back. I guessed he was 25 at most – clean-shaven with a flattop. Beautiful. He saw me – shirtless, bulging, massive. “Whoa,” he said simply as he stopped. The bartender turned around. Though to my right, I could see that he was bearded with big pecs and shoulders and a bigger gut. But I was focused on the muscle boy. Even in the dim lighting I could tell that he had perfect skin. Smooth. Soft. His face was square, strong, and handsome. I walked up to him and reached behind his neck. He began to tremble. “It’s okay,” I said gently. “I’m going to give you what you want.” He relaxed and dropped to his knees and began gnawing at my bulging crotch, licking and biting and sucking through the denim. Blood surged into my cock and it swelled, pressing against my jeans, providing a larger mound for him to chew on, expanding as his teeth caressed it. I could feel it become almost impossibly hard, so big and thick, thrusting until it tore through the spit and pre-cum soaked denim and plunged directly into his wide-open mouth. Somewhere in the distance I heard a deep voice shout “FUCK,” but I was too lost in the bliss of the boy servicing my powerful tool to pay attention. Then I felt my pants being torn away and a second pair of lips, another tongue, lapping and sucking hungrily on my ball sack. “Aww, yeah…” I moaned with approval, but I had something else in mind. Minutes later they were both gagged and bent over, hands tied to their feet, bare asses in the air. I stood some distance behind them, naked save for my heavy boots, and admired their butts. Both had large, full glutes, but the bartender’s were thick with hair while the kid’s were completely smooth with only a hint of peach fuzz. My fully engorged cock bounced with my heartbeat, so hard it felt as if it were welded onto my skeleton – unbendable, unyielding. Pre-cum oozed from the engorged head and dripped onto the floor. I strode toward their waiting asses, keenly aware of the weight of my organ as it swung side to side. I slammed it into the boy’s hole, ignoring his muffled cry as I felt it stretch further around the fat base of my cock, tightly wrapping my tool, caressing it with the velvety smooth heat it deserved. I could hear his grunts as I pounded his ass, giving him what he so desperately needed, taking what was mine until I had loaded him with my cum and moved on to the bartender. And when I finished with him I moved on to the next waiting hole, for more men had appeared, all bound and gagged, in a circle around me, waiting for their chance to pleasure me. It wasn’t until I had reached the fourth man that I became aware that I was somehow still fucking the first three concurrently, for the physical sensation and pleasure continued to increase as I moved around the circle. I somehow knew what was happening, and my cock and balls surged with power. I threw my arms into the air and flexed as I thrust repeatedly and accepted my role as Alpha Stud of humanity. Suddenly, I was fucking every man in the bar simultaneously, satisfying them as only I could, feeling the dozens of holes worship my mighty cock, filling them from the infinite reservoir of my jism, until the joy of my orgasm grew so powerful that I... My body spasmed in my bed, cum surging from my raging erection, grunting, almost yelling as the bed shook with the most intense orgasm of my life. Fully a minute later, I found myself flat on my back on soaking wet sheets, covered with sweat and my own cum, my heart slamming against my ribcage, my head spinning with the aftershocks of the dream and orgasm. I again wondered what that hell was going on, simultaneously thrilled with the sexual prowess that I now seemed to possess but confused by the lack of control I had over what was happening to me. I replayed the dream in my mind. I remembered it clearly, even the many butts that I had plowed, some hairy, some not, some perfectly white and flawless like Matt’s, some dark – hair and skin of many colors, all desperate for me to dominate them. I flushed, embarrassed at the arrogance of my subconscious. Alpha Stud of humanity? As impossibly hot and desirable as that sounded – and felt – it certainly was not me. I just wanted everyone to get along, to live and let live ... and fuck as much as I could. “You know you’re a master stud, right?” Matt had asked me yesterday. I sat up and shook my head. It was time to get to work. I stood up and felt my cock swing. It was still erect and I looked down at the fully engorged organ. “Do you mind?” I asked it, exasperated. Yet I continued to study it, watching it bob slightly in rhythm with my heart, so thick and robust looking, veins wrapping around the mighty shaft... Mighty? Where did that come from? I had never thought of my cock as mighty or anything special. It was just my cock. I wrapped my fingers around it – they didn’t even come close to closing around the throbbing pole. It really is bigger, I admitted, which of course caused it to surge larger still. I found myself stroking it, enjoying its extreme hardness and heft, wondering why no one was at my feet begging to worship it... “STOP!” I yelled out loud. My heart was pounding again, only this time with fear. I was losing myself, and despite the overwhelming need to satisfy my lust, I forcefully cleared my mind and jumped in the shower. Water – as cold as possible. Wash – as fast as possible. Dress – as fast as possible and in the largest Carhartt pants I have. Do not look in the mirror... As I began to leave for work, I saw the mechanical scale still sitting in front of the closet door. I found myself walking toward it and with some trepidation stepped on. The dial spun and bounced: 255. I smiled and sighed with relief. I wore boots, jeans and a t-shirt. Given the weight of my clothing, I had lost a few pounds overnight. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Air in. Air out. Air in. Air out. I was not losing my mind. I am in control. Air in. Air out. Air in. Air out. I then stepped down, grabbed my hardhat and backpack, and was off to the job site. * * * People stared openly as I moved down the busy SoHo sidewalk, but I ignored the attention. I walked, or more like waddled, as quickly as possible and with imaginary blinders on. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Do not look at anyone. Once again I felt fear. I had long drawn more than my share of attention, but this was ridiculous. I checked my shirt and pants, wondering if I had put them on inside out. Fly open? No. I checked my face in the window of a parked truck – it looked normal. I was fifteen pounds heavier – why would that generate so much attention? Even Hank, who was far larger than me, did not create such a distraction. Hank and I stepped onto the busy Church Street sidewalk, coffees in hand. The morning was clear and mild and we began walking through the broad canyon of low-rise buildings toward the neo-classical Saint Peter’s Church. I briefly fell behind so that I could check out his ass but ended up watching, impressed, as many oncoming pedestrians afforded him wide berth. While this was Manhattan, land of the most jaded of pedestrians, few were above moving out of the path of a super heavyweight bodybuilder. Some of the men gave him a thumbs up. A few even knew his name. I felt invisible in his wake, but also inspired. At five foot ten and 210 ripped pounds, I was pretty built, but before we even reached Barclay Street I had decided to get as big as possible. I quickly caught up with him. “Mind if I train with you sometime?” I asked. “But you ain’t even poked me yet.” He winked. That made me smile. “Maybe I like to get poked.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. I recognized you. Why do you think I stopped at that coffee shop?” I found Big Red’s recognition flattering, but somehow I had never seen him before. “You have me at a disadvantage,” I said. “Let’s just say we have a mutual friend and that your rep precedes you.” I wondered who our ‘mutual friend’ was and laughed. “Really? I have a rep?” “And I can smell a good top a mile away,” he said. “There’s only one of you in each borough, you know.” ‘Which leaves all of Manhattan to me’ was the obvious comeback, but before I could say it, the familiar roar of an approaching jet aircraft filled the air. Familiar, but much too loud. I instinctively looked up. A commercial jet was almost directly overhead and at an insanely low altitude. Goosebumps rose on my entire body and even as I watched, the jet slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center, enveloping the upper floors in a ball of flame. I briefly turned to Hank. “Holy shit did you see that?” I exclaimed. To my amazement, he was tying his shoe. An instant later, the sound of the explosion reached us and adrenaline flooded my body. “Down!” I yelled as I shoved Hank to the street behind a parked truck. Just as I covered him with my body, debris began falling around us. I continued along the sidewalk. People – men, women, children – parted and stared. My shirt and pants were tighter than usual, but I’d seen tighter. Something very strange was happening and I found myself wishing I were invisible. Again anxious to get away from the public, I jogged the remaining blocks to work and as I reached the job site, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Matt. Hey Big Guy – we are heading to Brooklyn for the day. Walking across the bridge. Having pizza I think. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can I see you tonight? I grinned as I pictured his beautiful, bearded face. So handsome and sweet. His blue eyes adoring as he looked at me. My cock sprang to life in my pants. I panicked and shoved the phone back in my pocket. Immediately, I broke out in a cold sweat. My cock had become some kind of problem child, impossible to control and ready to cause trouble. And people were staring at me, gawking. While pretending to study my phone, I could see every head turn in my peripheral vision. Every head. A few people, mostly men, appeared to struggle to keep moving. Why? Except that I knew the answer. I could feel it surfacing from my subconscious, yet I shoved it away, too terrified to face the reality. Still on the busy sidewalk, I looked up at the steel skeleton of the new building rising above the temporary wooden safety wall and focused on it. Today is all about you, I said to the unfinished structure. I put on my vest, belt and hardhat and entered the jobsite, and for four hours I was able to think only about work. The other guys on the project did pay attention to me more than usual, but I was able to block them out. A few of my buddies asked if I had put on weight and just told them I was doing a cycle, which seemed to satisfy them. It wasn’t until lunch that I realized that not only was I not hungry, but I hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours. I briefly considered grabbing a bite anyway, but instead found myself walking over the staging area for the steel beams that had yet to be prepared for placement. It was hot again, but the sun felt so good that I made sure it was on me as much as possible all morning. The steel was hot from baking for several hours. I removed my shirt and leaned back against it, stretching luxuriously like a cat in a beam of sunlight. Mark, my supervisor, shook me awake. “Jamal, you okay?” I opened my eyes and sat up. “Sorry, man,” I blurted out reflexively. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I jumped to my feet. My pants were uncomfortably tight, again. I felt pumped – again – and I broke out in a cold sweat, again. I’ve put on more weight, again. This time, I was keenly aware of it. I knew what it felt like now. I estimated I was again ten to fifteen pounds heavier. Mark was a big man – not a bodybuilder, but he wasn’t a stranger to the gym either. We had trained together years ago, until he got married and became a father. He was bearded, tattooed, and had long gray and brown hair. People often thought he was a biker, though (like me) he had never even been on one. “Fuck,” he said as he stared at me, almost trance-like. “What a stud.” I could feel him devour me with his eyes, especially my torso, arms and crotch, until I felt it begin to grow. I nodded and headed back to the scissor lift. “I gotta take a leak bad, man,” I said as I began running away. “Hey, wait,” he called after me. “I need to show you something in the office.” I didn’t stop. I knew what he wanted to show me. His ass. He was a completely straight man. He had never displayed any issue with gays, but never displayed any desire for men either. Yet he wanted me to fuck him. Somehow, I knew this, and it was right. Everyone needs me to fuck them. They need my muscles and cock to show them who’s boss. They crave the reassurance of my dominance. I am the Alpha Stud, after all. I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing in renewed panic. Where are these thoughts coming from? Even my mind was betraying me, and as my erection strained against the heavy denim of my pants and a part of me observed in terror, I knew that I would fuck Mark. I turned around and faced him. He was already walking toward me, my shirt, hat and vest in hand. I had left them on the girder. My cock throbbed powerfully in the confines of my jeans in anticipation and his eyes locked onto the huge bulge as he approached. His jaw dropped. “Please,” he said, once again looking me in the eye. His expression was pleading. Minutes later, I stood in the office in the temporary building with my jeans around my ankles, pre-cum dripping from my raging erection onto Mark’s face as he knelt before me. His complete submission was intensely arousing and felt perfectly natural. He desperately craved my dominance. The look in his eyes was clear. The complete awe with which he gazed up at my long, fat, throbbing cock and massive, hairy body was clear. Mark needed to worship me, to demonstrate his submission to the Alpha Stud. Long, fat, throbbing cock. My cock wasn’t long. Except that it was now. It had grown again along with the rest of me. And after several minutes of watching the continuous strand of my pre-cum pour onto Mark’s face and collect in his mustache and beard, I felt it was time. “I’m going to give you what you need,” I said. “Stand and bend over your desk.” He dropped his pants and I wasted no time in forcing the head of my pre-cum lubed cock into his virgin hole. He gasped and his breathing became labored. His hole was so tight that I blew my wad twice during the several minutes it took to drive it all the way in. Between watching my fat tool disappear into his ass, knowing how much I was stretching him out with my superior manhood, and the intense physical pleasure of feeling him wrapped tightly around my tool, I couldn’t stop myself from shooting. I remained amazed at how quickly I could recharge, but on the other hand I knew that was how it was supposed to be. I slid the length of my cock in and out of his ass, reveling in the sensation of his sphincter gripping my rod. In. Out. In. Out. His groans increased in volume. In. Out. In. Out. I smiled. I am the Alpha Stud. I am giving him what he needs. What they all need. And this is my reward. “You all exist for me to fuck,” I heard myself say as the heat and pressure in my loins reached the tipping point. “YES!” he agreed. “UGH!” And with that, Mark’s spasming cock was spraying all over the side of his desk as I used his hips to pull him flush against me, sinking my great fuck pole in to the hilt, again pumping another of my enormous loads into his intestine. Minutes later, my cock was still rammed up his ass. “I don’t know what happened,” he said sheepishly. “But I don’t want you to pull out.” “I know,” I said as I gently extracted my long cock, listening to Mark grunt as I withdrew. “But we should get back to work.” We both pulled up our jeans. “How are we supposed to work with you around?” he asked. This truly puzzled me. “What?” He sat down at his desk and grimaced. “Fuck, it burns,” he said. “How long will it hurt?” The conversation was surreal. I shrugged my shoulders. “I really don’t know. A day or so?” “Anyway, you’re not the same,” he said. He began sliding the supplies and papers back into place on his desk. His supervisor hat was on once again. “I’ve been watching you and the guys all morning. You’ve been working like a machine, but everyone around you is distracted, including me. We can’t focus. I know I sure as hell can’t.” I threw my hands up and began pacing between the water cooler and the wastebasket by the door. “I don’t know what’s happening, Mark. I’m getting bigger for no reason I can see. Everyone is staring at me. I mean, we’re men, we like to be big and strong, right? I shouldn’t complain, but it’s freaking me out. Because ... because...” I stopped and faced him. “Because I have no control over it. I’m not doing it. It’s just happening.” Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. I looked at him and wondered how much longer I would have a job, while he just stared at me. Then his eyes glazed over. Here it comes again, I thought. “Fuck, you’re huge,” he said. I sighed and turned away. “You need to be worshipped,” he said reverently. I spun around again, “NO! What I need is a job!” But already I felt my cock stir and begin expanding upward toward my navel, thickening and lengthening until the head pushed beyond my belt, pre-cum already oozing from the piss slit. “Shit. No no no no NO!” I said as I pushed it back into my pants and redirected it to the side even as it continued to swell. “It’s fuckin’ huge,” he said in awe. “It certainly wants to be worshipped.” “What I want is a JOB,” I yelled irritably. Mark blinked and shook his head. “Look,” he said, apparently himself once again. “Take the rest of the day off – ” “But – ” He held his hand up. “Just listen. You’re way ahead of schedule. Come back tomorrow. Wear something ... big. Big and baggy.” He looked at me again. “Very big. Huge. And we’ll take it from there.” I walked home without my shirt, for it had torn as I tried to put it back on. I ignored the stares and cameras and pleas for attention. A few blocks from home, someone approaching me actually dropped to his knees directly in my path and to my horror, my cock immediately began to swell. I began running, desperate to have some privacy again, until I was off the sidewalk and in the entryway of my building. I stopped, expecting to be winded. I wasn’t. Once inside my apartment, I made a beeline for the kitchen and pulled a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet, removed the top, and chugged the remaining third of the liquor. I just stood there, bottle in hand, heart pounding not with exertion but panic, and waited for the alcohol to work its magic. Ten minutes passed. I stripped down to nothing and looked at the mechanical scale as if it were already the bearer of bad news. 260, I thought. 265, tops. The phone rang and I hurriedly dug it out of my backpack. I recognized the area code as I felt the tequila hit. It was Matt’s cell. I hadn’t responded to his text. I began to accept the call but froze. It rolled to voicemail. Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1318-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-four/

Pleasure Growth 5 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1256-pleasure-growth-part-4/ Once back home, Aaron truly felt like he was in solitary confinement. His parents gave him work and chores to do on the ranch but only things that were light for him, even if they were quite the daunting task for his brothers. His brothers had started to make all sorts of comments, poking fun at him saying how they had the jolly green giant at the house now, or ribbing him a little bit about his homosexuality and his involvement with Zeke. On the rare occasion however, they pushed the buttons a little too often and Aaron would get very angry and accidentally hurt one of his brothers by trying to lightly push them away or shove them, or give them a noogey punch on the shoulder. But with a gymnast's build now, Aaron's strength was a bit more than what he was used to, and at nine feet tall it was enhanced by his size, so the small shoves and punches caused extreme bruising, one broken arm, and sent his brothers flying to the opposite side of the room. Those instances caused Aaron's mom to put her foot down. Rest assured his father was there too, and was laying down the law as well, but no matter how big Aaron's dad and brothers were, the last word came from his mom, and when she laid down the law, everyone in the family listened or faced the wrath of her and a pair of rolling pins she handled like nun-chucks. The ribbing, no matter how light it was, about Aaron's homosexuality, his size, any kind of taunting or teasing was to stop and stop immediately or the older boys went to bed hungry, even as men in their twenties. "Besides," commented Aaron's mom, "Anger sometimes can cause arousal, especially if you piss him off and he accidentally shows off great strength. He's got to be treated and act like he's sterile. Nothing to set him off or arouse him whatsoever!" And both her and her husband meant it. There was no talk about special nights out with the girlfriends, or how mom and dad met and fell in love on their evening of their wedding anniversary, the cable and internet had locks put on them by mom so anything that showed relationships of any kind, let alone sexually explicit or pornographic scenes, were completely blocked from viewing. Not only Aaron, but the entire family felt like they were all trapped in a world where they were kids again for mom pretty much made sure the only thing available on the radio, t.v., or the internet were things produced by the Disney Company. So life went on for a couple of months like that. Aaron feeling even more depressed about his size, having to duck at the waist, if not crawl through a doorway on his hands and knees, although the farmhouse being an old victorian style did have high enough ceilings to accomodate his standing height. He felt more depression from missing Zeke, but was told he couldn't think about him so as not to get aroused. A daily grind of farming and ranch chores, child like games or card games, wholesome family t.v. and cartoons, and meals. Aaron at times nearly wished he could talk about the grass growing as it was fast becoming a more interesting subject than his life. But life was still to be interesting in big big ways for Aaron, despite the best efforts of the family. New Year's Day was going to start the new year with a big, big bang. Aaron's father, upon seeing his seven foot tall son, with his other boys all grown standing around six to six feet four, an inch to more taller than him, had started to go through a little depression himself. He was only in his early forties, his wife and he having gotten married and had the kids very young in their lives, but with all these young, taller, and stronger men in the house, Aaron's dad was beginning to feel less of a man. Well, Aaron's mom, wasn't hearing of anyone in her family being sick in anyway, including her man. On a secret trip they went to the doctors and got him checked out. Some testoterone treatments for him, triple rechecked by the doctor before administering, and some viagra, and Aaron's father, and mom, were feeling very happy, hardy, and healthy again, indeed. The stage was now set, however, for the "accident." The form of Dad's viagra pills were small and bluish. So too, were a set of pills Aaron was given to take to curb his horomone and libido levels. The family was in a rush getting ready in the morning as they were heading to town and then to a barn dance that evening. All, except Aaron, of course. While mom was busy getting breakfast prepared and laid out, she handed a tray to one of the brothers with two pill cases and two glasses of orange juice. "Things are in a bit of rush, today, Elijah, and I don't want either Dad nor Aaron to forget about the meds. Take these up to them and have them take them before they get their baths." Elijah took the tray, nice like from his mom and turned into the doorway where the back staircase was. Once on it, however, he decided to sprint up the stairs and nearly tripped on the top step. Now, he managed to keep the tray balanced so as to save the glasses of orange juice from completely tumping over, but the pill cases slid to the edge, hit the tray rim, and launched off, hitting the floor and popping open. Now, the brothers new about Aaron's pills and had seen them, and had seen some of the pills Dad was taking as well, but the new pills for testosterone and viagra, mom and dad kept descretely quiet about. So, when the pill cases hit the floor and popped open, Elijah, groaned and complained to himself, but looked down and figured he knew exactly which pills to place back into what case. The larger, blue, viagra pill, he figured was a booster pill for Aaron since the family was going to be gone all day. Aaron wasn't allowed to go to the barn dance, in case he saw a cowboy he took a liking too, plus the neighbors hadn't found out yet about Aaron's new size. So the pills delivered, Aaron and his father absent mindedly taking the pills without actually looking at them, the family finished getting ready, had breakfast, and then bid goodbye to Aaron and went on the New Year's Day outting. Aaron went about taking care of the morning chores of feeding livestock, checking for eggs, throwing out hay, and he decided to head out to the front of the pasture to check on a gate his brothers said wasn't latching properly. After checking that out, he started to walk back to the house, but noticed he was walking past the cabin that some of the extra hired hands stayed in while working here. In particular the one Zeke had stayed in. Opening the door, Aaron ducked and walked inside. The last time he really spent time in here was was five foot six inches tall, well... then, six feet tall. The cabin seemed much smaller to him now. He walked over and sat down on the bed, which groaned greatly under the weight of his new height and size. He noticed the height marks on the door frame of him and all his brothers. He had to laugh as there wasn't room to mark his current height now. He sat there for awhile but then began to notice an odd scent. No, not odd...familiar. He couldn't figure out what it was, or where it was coming from. He began to sniff in this direction and that, finally realizing, there was an old shirt of Zeke's on the floor near a dresser. It was a dirty shirt, still carrying Zeke's scent on it. Aaron was surprized how he could smell it so strongly. Even more surprised at how small the shirt looked compared to him. Picking up the shirt, he sniffed it, and sat back down on the bed. Crying, he thought about Zeke: when he first arrived at the ranch, all the chores he tackled, how he helped Aaron with his chores. He then remembered those little smile glances Zeke would giveh him, especially after he had grown to a seven footer. His mind then wandered to all the really hot days, when Zeke, drenched in sweat, would take his soaked shirt off to get cooler. His tight and taught, muscular body glistening in the summer sun, bunching and mounding during the labor. How his arms would pop and swell during work, his chest would heave and barrel, his lats flare, or on the one or two occassions when Zeke declared it so hot, he shucked his pants off as well and was working on fence lines in just his cowboy boots and underwear. Aaron would secretly watch the two mounds of Zeke's breifs: the back mound with its two firm bubble like forms making Zeke's tight ass, and the front mound with its three bulges, two that were the good sized bubble formations created by his balls and the longer, snake like one that was his cock. Aaron started breathing harder. He was missing Zeke so much. He wanted to be with Zeke again so much. To touch him. To feel him. To make love to him. To feel Zeke touching him. Aaron broke into a sweat, moaning softly, thinking about Zeke, almost pantomiming being with him. He couldn't help it. He was getting turned on so fast. He was so incredibly horny right now and didn't know why. All he knew was he wished Zeke was there, right now, to hold, to grab, to caress, to fuck! Suddenly he felt it. His cock, just suddenly shot straight down his pants leg stiff as a board and getting harder by the second. He wanted to touch it. To release this building energy he felt inside of him, but he knew he shouldn't. To pleasure himself might set off a reaction, another spurt. He focused and tried to will the horniness and his hard on away, but the viagra and extra testoterone he accidentally had taken this morning was in full effect. His cock now throbbed so hard, so painfully, that Aaron swore it was going to burst apart. Finally unpopping his button and zipping down his fly, he let his large cock bounce upwards and slap him in his abs. Grabbing a hold of it, Aaron was amazed at the sensation just touching it was creating through his cock and through him, as well as the fact that it felt like he was gripping a rod made of solid steel. Aaron gave one long, slow, firm stroke down his cock all the way to and over his balls. "aaauuuu-hu-hu-hu-huuuuuuuuuuuuh" escaped the moan from his lips and then...the sensation hit him. It hit him in the very tip of his prick head, shot down the shaft to his balls and then back upwards again. Only problem was, when it hit his cock head, his cock head shot out farther away from his body, his shaft became noticebly thicker, his balls suddenly swelled larger, firmer, and hung lower. "AWWWWUUUGGH!" Aaron was growing and he knew there was nothing to do but keep stroking and attempt to get it done and over with fast. He stroked faster and faster, his cock shot out longer and thicker, harder and veinier, than ever before. He stroked firmer and tighter and his balls swelled like balloons being filled with water, and he felt heat rising from them and could feel cum being produced in greater quantities, filling and swishing round in his balls. Attempting to stroke longer and slower, he felt his feet swell and stretch, his legs lengthen, his arms reach, his back and neck stand straighter, over and over, taller, and higher, again and again. Aaron began to stroke wildly and grope and fondle his balls and as he did so his muscles bunched....swelled....popped....got denser....thicker...harder....veinier...more striated....fuller....more defined....grew...and grew.... and grew! Even sitting down he noticed the ceiling was getting closer and closer again. The bed underneath him began to groan and creak, and it was a wrought iron bed! It began to bend and sink, finally snapping in two and Aaron now firmly sat on the floor, still growing upward, outward, muscles getting so full, crevices and crannies developing between the full bloated bellies of each muscle. His cock was still getting larger proportionately rising higher and higher. His clothes were ripping and popping everywhere, in every which way, becoming nothing but tattered shreds sliding off his huge body. And still Aaron stroked....and stroked....and stroked.... "AH! HO! UH-HUH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHMMMMMOTHERFUCKER!" Aaron blew his load and through rolled back and semi crossed eyes watched the spoo soar and splat upon the ceiling. He finally gave in to collapse, his back hitting the wall, and he heard a few cracks and splits of the beams which made it. He looked down over himself. His musculature was now somewhere between the size of a gymnast and an American football player. His legs and feet, although sitting up, stretch almost halfway across the cabin floor. His cock shrinking down to its flaccid state still felt so long, thick, and heavy, as if he almost had a third leg, and that was pushed out further by two mounding globes that where his balls, hanging just slightly low and heavy, and getting racked even in sitting position by Aaron's newly burgoning thighs. What was he going to do? He knew if the calculations were correct, he just shot up to thirteen feet tall, and the way he was filling up the space of this cabin, he could tell that to be true. But he couldn't stay sequestered, he couldn't be pinned up, one can't live like that. He couldn't live...without Zeke. He needed to see him. He needed to be with him. He...He.. needed to calm down, but even though he just released a huge two month load, his cock was becoming painfully erect again and fast! What would he do?

Pleasure Growth Part 4 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Aaron woke up the next morning stiff and crampped in a make-shift bed. He doesn't remember how he got there, but somehow he was in his dorm room. Zeke was there too. He apparently moved furniture around so he could place his bed and Aaron's end to end so Aaron had enough room to stretch out, but being as they were both twin sized beds they weren't wide enough for Aaron now to feel comfortable. Looking down his body, he noticed that Zeke was sleeping on top of him ... on top of him! Aaron hadn't even noticed this in his sleep, and now that he was awake he felt like a child was sleeping on top of him. And no wonder, for not only was Aaron taller, he was bigger built as well, now somewhere between a soccer player and a gymnast. Aaron was quite amazed at this. This type of build was the kind that started to really show and pop on a body. One could see size and definition, the pushing and bulging the muscles of the body did to fight for room: chest barreling; lats and back begin pushing the arms out; forearms, biceps, triceps, and delts begin to fill out sleeves and cause them to rise up; butt bubbling and filling out shorts and pants, while thighs stretch out the pants legs. Aaron was going to be in trouble. Zeke had told him not to gain any major muscle mass and here his body had done so. Aaron remembered now being pulled into the locker room showers, being washed down, politely, some towels and such pinned together around him and being snuck into the dorm room, sat down, given something to eat and then put to bed. And even though Zeke had taken care of him, he still aparently managed to have some fun, for there he was sleeping on top of Aaron and Aaron could see some light scratch marks across his abs and chest. These thoughts betrayed Aaron and in a panic he felt his cock stir. He worried at this, but then realized that strange sensation was occuring and so decided to let nature run its course. His cock rose and rose. It was amazing to see, almost frightening to watch. It caused Zeke's hand, his arm to stir and it grew erect and pushed itself out from under Zeke. Aaron stared in disbelief, he felt pretty sure he wasn't just getting bigger because he was taller, but it was getting bigger proportionately each growth spurt now too. When he was finally hard as granite, Aaron's mouth popped agape. His prick fully erect was as long as Zeke's forearm. Forearm and hand. Hand open, extended and flat. Hell, maybe Zeke's hand, forearm, and part of his upper arm as well. "Aaaaaauuuuuuuuuuooooh..." Aaron suddenly moaned, feeling the hand, or rather hands of Zeke latch on and begin to stroke his dick. One of Zeke's hands wasn't quite big enough to wrap all the way around Aaron's member. Zeke slid himself down a little, having his arms raise above his head so his hands could caress and stroke the mighty helmet of Aaron's cock, while he flexed his chest as best he could around Aaron's shaft and rub it in between them. He let his balls rest upon Aaron's and he began to do pull ups on Aaron's dick and slide back down. Soon Aaron's breathing was becoming rhythmic, with loan groans and moans escaping his lips, rumbling the air and filling the dorm room and the hallway with sound. After a while, Aaron let out a deep, low, growl that despite being soft and whisperish, echoed down the hall, along with gasps, pants, and grunts of release from Zeke as well. This was followed by the muffled sounds of a couple of other male groans of pleasure from other closed dorm rooms. Looking down, Aaron could see a very healthy splattering of cum across his chest, felt it on his chin, and saw it covering Zeke's hands, with droplets on his forearms and face, and Zeke's own cum strung across Aaron's cock and Zeke's abs. Zeke looked up a little embarrassed and smiled. "Breakfast in bed.... I told you not to gain any kind of decent muscle mass." Aaron chuckled a little, but then a small bit of panic registered across his face, he closed his eyes, and rested his head against the head board. "That's the other reason I did it. I knew this was going to hit once you woke up." "How could it not? Look at me... look at you on top of me. You look like and feel like a tween to me. Another growth spurt and you'll be a child, another one a baby, then you'll seem like a microscopic dot." "I know...I know, babe. I understand... no... not what you're going through,...just that this is difficult and scary. I'm scared for you. This isn't what you expected nor wanted when you went in for treatment. Being seven foot was bit extra, and that was kind of cool, maybe even appreciated by you. You could be the big man of your family. Be one of the bigger men of the world, but it's not that unheard of a height. Now you're nine feet tall. A bit bigger of a problem to overcome and be. Uhm, no pun meant on that." "I know..." "What time is it?" "It's eight forty-five a.m." "Ok... let's get ourselves and this place cleanned up. I called the coach and Sanjay last night and told them they'd need to meet us this morning in our dorm room, and to bring breakfast." Zeke, stood up and back and looked up and down Aaron. "Does fifteen sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits with eight hash browns and five large o.j.'s sound right to you?" "Yeah that sounds about right for all of us." Zeke chuckled and ran his hands across Aaron's abs. "That was just your order." "My lord...." Aaron stopped and began to think about it as he heard his stomach growl. Yeah...a single sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit from McDonalds he could hold with his thumb and index finger now. It will take quite a few of them to make a meal for him. Zeke went down the hall and got a bucket of soapy water and rinse water, figuring the size of Aaron's form might create quite a bit of a stir if seen, not that his voice during the morning jack off hadn't already created quite a bit of questions posed at Zeke. Using towels to both wash and dry Aaron, Zeke tried to give him a sponge bath without causing either him or Aaron to achieve another erection. After that was done, Zeke went down and got his own shower and then the two picked up and cleanned the dorm room for their meeting. Coach Dreisden showed up with Sanjay and the medical team; they were all in state of extreme shock, except Sanjay. They were finally able to sit down and start talking when the Presdient of the University came knocking on the door. "Good lord! I just heard all these rumors about our star player being even bigger, I didn't expect this." "Yes, sir, it is a bit of shock." "Imagine what it will be to our rival teams." "Uhm, they may not get to see him, Mr. President." "What do you mean, Coach Dreisden?" "From what, Sanjay and the medical team have discovered and told me, we may need to.... well, pull up a seat and let Sanjay explain it. He can do it better and we've not had a chance to tell Aaron here." The President of the University sat down and Sanjay began. "After confering with your doctor back home and running several tests together, we have discovered several different facts, good and bad, all combined." Aaron spoke up in a worried tone, "Good and b..b..bad...all combined?" "You went to the doctor to get help in growing due to low horomone levels. They have discovered that your horomone levels weren't low, or rather were just low at the time and at the time of the injection were just beginning to be secreted and rise. You would've had your growth spurt, you were just a late bloomer. And you were set for a decent sized one. Our estimates show you would've been somewhere between six foot two to six foot five when done. Now, you got those injections of extra horomones but it wouldn't have done any damage or caused things to mutate. You simply would've just shot up an extra couple of inches or so, winding up some where between six foot five to six foot eight." "But that's not what happened. I'm well over six foot eight inches tall. I'm... I'm..." Aaron looked over to Zeke. "I measured him this morning, flat on his bed. He's nine feet tall, even." "So how tall am I going to get?" Sanjay continued, "Well, we're not exactly sure. You see there was an interference in your treatment. There was a man there by the name of Wylle. He was secretly conducting his own little genetic experiements, trying to create a serum, formula, that would make very large, strong, and...uhm...let us say verile men." "He got that part down..." "ZEKE!" Sanjay smirked a little looking at Zeke and Aaron, but continued. "Nurse Cloris was supposed to grab two different petri dishes, but the second one she grabbed was the one on which Wylle was working. Now, it could have been relatively alright still. You could've wound up becoming a very tall, yet very powerfully built man. Something like a slightly taller Lou Ferrigno. You know, the man who played the Hulk in the seventies show? However it somehow mixed with your hormones well. ... too well. "Combining, what happened is the superman compound, for lack of a better term for it, took your growth spurt and split it apart into separate growth spurts of equal size, but then with its genetic make up, it then caused each of those growth spurts to increase in size exponentially." "Wait... you're saying I'm to have several growth spurts?" "Yes..." "How many? A...an...and how large will each be?" "We're not exactly sure on either of those answers. But I can give you somewhat of an idea. A normal man has as his main teenage growth spurt somewhere between four to nine inches on average and then anywhere from half an inch to two inches more from age eighteen to around age twenty-five. The problem is, height genetics vary so from person to person depending upon the combination received from his parents. He could have a nine inch growth spurt with a half inch post spurt, or four inch growth spurt and a two inch post spurt, or anywhere in between in any kind of combination. So say young man x was in the same situation as you and he was going to experience the extreme maximum potential in his growth spurts: nine and two. That means total he was going to grow eleven inches taller, but with that serum, what has happened is that instead of growing through an eleven inch growth spurt, he's going to grow through eleven growth spurts." "And you have no idea the size of these spurts?" "Well, we do know they're increasing exponentatially, but we don't know exactly how much. Now this last growth spurt last night you grew two feet. You grew two months ago to seven foot, but we don't know how tall you were before you grew, although we do know you started out at five foot six." "I was six foot even." "Six foot even?" "I was five foot six inches tall when I got the shot. The first time I experienced a growth spurt I shot up to six foot. The second one was when I hit seven foot tall." "Six inches, then twelve, and now twenty-four. .... that means the serum is causing your growth spurts to double in size from what the previous one was." "oh my god...." The President stood up and walked over to Aaron to try and comfort him. "Well, it won't be that bad then. You've already had three, maybe you're only going to have one more." "One more and I'll be....Thirteen feet tall!" Coach Dreisden spoke up. "Mr. President... I don't think you understand exactly what Sanjay has just told us. Young Aaron here was going to be a late bloomer, and he was going to be in the taller set of his family. The shortest range they estimated him to be was six feet two inches tall. From five foot six that's a growth spurt of eight inches, which means he could have five more of these growth spurts. Possibly more if he actually was to hit the six foot eight range." "Oh shit!" "Shhh, shh... Aaron.. it'll be ok. We'll get this figured out. We've identified the cause, we just have to correct it." Consoled Zeke. "And keep me from getting aroused!" "Keep you from getting aroused?" asked Sanjay. "Yeah..." Aaron hung his head down in embarrassment. "The sensation, the spurt, isn't triggered unless I get aroused. It happened the first time, Zeke and I...er....made out, and the second time we did, and then I.... uh....er.... I uh kind of got myself aroused thinking about how big I was compared to other guys." Coach Dreisden, sat next to Aaron and patted him on the shoulder. "It's alright, son. Young men, hell even some of us older men, still, get aroused thinking or seeing that we're bigger built, taller, stronger, or more virile than other men around us. It's part of mankind's old animalist nature. Survival of fittest, being the dominant, alpha male, kind of thing. It's just nature. Workout and locker rooms don't smell like they do because of sweat. It's because of testosterone. Any male athlete in the world would be a liar if they told you they never, not once during a match, game, or workout suddenly sported wood. Don't blame yourself or be embarrassed by it." Aaron nodded approvingly, albeit quietly. "So...the thing is what do we do for Aaron now? I'm sorry, Mr. President, but he can't be on the team. Sure, at nine feet tall, he'd be quite the asset, but the games, the trainning sessions, the workouts, he could get aroused again easily. Even worse that his boyfreind here is on the team. Which is something else we'll have to handle. You two are going to have to have separate dorm rooms." "What?!?" cried out both Zeke and Aaron. "BOYS!....boys....look. I know this is going to be difficult, but you've got to think about your future. Aaron you're nine feet tall. You've just surpassed the tallest man in history in the Guiness Book of World Records. You're a foot taller than the average height of most rooms. You're not going to fit into normal clothes, cars, furniture, houses. Yet, at nine feet tall there are still some accomodations that can be made for you. With that, we've got to figure out a way to stop this, to try and help you, Aaron, still have as normal of life as you can possibly acheive. Now, Sanjay and the doctors can work on that 'cure' to stop the serum Wile E. Coyote or whatever that jerk's name was, but until then we need to use this 'enemy's' weakness against it. We've got to keep you from getting aroused. In fact, I would suggest that until a cure is found or until your body hits an age to be unaffected, around age..." "Twenty-five." said Sanjay. "Twenty-five!?" screamed Aaron. "Yes, twenty-five!" bellowed Coach Dreisden "That you go back home and sit a spell. Look, I understand it'll be like sending you to solitary confinment in a prison, but it's better that and then having a fairly normal part of your life for the rest of your life, than having to worry that every time you brush your hand against your cock, experience a good stiff wind, or accidentally see porn on the internet you'll suddenly grow twenty feet taller." Aaron turned his face to the wall. "I know... it sucks, son, but think about what you're combating, what you're fighting for. If not for yourself, think about you and Zeke. How the hell are you gonna have a relationship if you grow so tall that your cock flacid stands ten feet taller than Zeke does." Both Zeke and Aaron blushed at that. "And Zeke, you're both in college, time to be men, adult, mature men. Now, my wife will show I have no credentials in knowing what homosexuals look for in a relationship, but I'm pretty sure it's the same thing my wife and I looked for. A relationship between you and somebody else means that you're always thinking not just about yourself, but that other person, and what's good for them, you, and the two of you together. Zeke, if you really love Aaron, you've got to let him go...for the now... If it's strong enough, when Aaron is in the clear, you can go back and pick up with your nine foot lover where ya parted, as opposed to having to part with a lover who could drop you down his piss slit with room to spare." There were still small protests from Aaron and Zeke, but with confirmation from Sanjay, the doctors, and even eventually from the president of the university, they relented and gave in to plans to send Aaron back home to his parents' ranch. The coach called up several department heads and got them and their students to work out clothing options for Aaron, even creating a make-shift pair of size U.S. men's forty-three's to cover Aaron's dogs. He put Aaron's scholarship on hold due to medical reasons, and got his classes frozen until such time as they knew Aaron could return. The President arranged for special transportation, while Zeke and Aaron got all of Aaron's stuff packed and boxed. Finally, the bus having arrived, Aaron tearfully said good-bye to the university president, his teammates, his coach, and finally to Zeke. He boarded the bus and walked to the back where a specially made chair was waiting, sat down, and cried softly to sleep on the long journey home.

Previous Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ CHAPTER TWO Matt and I were still blocks away from my studio apartment when we walked in front of a vacant storefront with large plate glass windows. “Wait,” he said. We stopped. “Look at yourself.” We stood side by side and appraised our reflections. I did look huge – massive and ripped. I not only felt as if I had just finished an intense full body workout and was completely pumped, I looked like it. Once again I grew hard, but this time it was because some distortion in the glass made me look like a fantasy illustration. Hyper-masculine and massive, but realistic. “Wow.” I said. “It’s flattering. I’ll admit that much. I’m a big guy, but not as big as that window makes me look.” “Yeah you are,” Matt said. “Look at my reflection. It’s accurate, isn’t it?” I had to admit he was right. He looked just as incredibly sexy in the window as he did standing right in front of me. “You look amazing,” I said as I again wrapped my arms around him and pressed my burning equipment into his. “What is it about you that turns me on so much?” “Just lucky, I guess,” he said before I plunged my tongue back into his mouth, forcing his own tongue aside. I let my hands roam freely across his well-defined back, surprised at how silky-smooth his skin felt. My thick pecs pressed into his chest and I could feel his light chest fur brushing against mine. My heart pounded. My head swam. He felt deliriously good against me. I would have sworn I was high. I pulled my head back enough so that I could see his handsome face but still feel his pecs against mine. He was gazing at me, his eyes adoring, doe-like despite their intense blue color. I felt my eyebrows rise involuntarily; my eyes widen a bit more as if to better capture his youthful, masculine image. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” he said finally. “So masculine, dark and rugged but gorgeous at the same time.” I laughed. “You’ve had too much to drink,” I said. He shook his head. “I’ve had nothing to drink. You are simply amazing.” The chemistry between us was literally intoxicating. I suddenly felt dizzy and grasped his upper arms to help steady myself. “Your palms are so rough,” he said breathlessly. “I can feel the callouses.” “I work with my hands. The gym doesn’t help. Sorry.” “No, no. I like it,” he whispered between gasps. “You talk as if you have no idea what a man you are. Oh my god.” Our fully engorged cocks pressed against each other through the denim of our jeans and I rocked slowly side to side, rubbing the rather considerable length of his tool with my own. “Grab my nipples,” he said under his breath I complied, taking the firm, perfect nubs and gently rolled them between my fingers. Almost immediately, he threw his arms around me and held on as tightly as he could. I could feel his entire body begin to spasm. “Oh, god!” he grunted. “Ugh!” His strength was surprising as he hugged me, squeezing tightly to hold on as his legs went limp in his ecstasy. His breath was hot on my neck, his blond beard luxurious against mine. “Ugh ... UGH!” I cradled him as he came, holding him up right there on the sidewalk as he released his load in his pants. “Yeah, baby, cum for me,” I whispered in his ear. “Just like that.” A minute passed as he continued to cling to me, moaning contentedly. “Get a room!” Another guy with an effeminate voice yelled as he drove by. “Too late!” A familiar voice shouted back. Matt had recovered by that time and was standing on his own. I released him and turned to see my friend Hank, in his gigantic ginger splendor, standing only a few yards away. His lips, framed by his meticulously trimmed copper goatee, were pressed together with some irritation. Well, this is embarrassing. Hank wore a huge t-shirt large enough to drape from his enormous shoulders and chest. He was typically around 300 pounds off-season. “I got your message,” he said. I put my left arm around Matt’s tight waist. “Hank, this is Matt.” Matt’s jaw dropped. Hank nodded and shook Matt’s hand before turning to me. “You sounded ... strange. I saw the news and was concerned.” Matt gawked at him. I watched his eyes scan hungrily from Hank’s clean-shaven head to his immensely thick forearms, which since he was off-season, currently sported the thick coat of copper hair that had earned him the nickname Big Red. “My god you’re ... you’re...” “You didn’t answer your door or phone so I figured you went to the Eagle,” he said. “This is Hank Davis, Matt,” I confirmed. Hank, my fuck buddy, also happened to be the current Mr. Olympia. “Am I the only one havin’ dis conversation?” Mr. Olympia said crossly. His green eyes and unrestrained Brooklyn accent told me that he had passed the point of patience. “Pushy bottom,” I whispered into Matt’s ear. I finally turned and faced Hank. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m fine, I’m just ... embarrassed.” “I can clearly see that you’re fine,” he said. My old friend was not pleased. “In fact you look better than fine. You’re juicin’ again.” Matt looked at me. “I’m not,” I said sincerely. “I haven’t used in years, you know that. Ask Terry.” “Don’t bullshit me, Jamal,” Hank said. “You must be at least 250. I’ve never seen you this big. What you doin’? “See?” Matt agreed. Now I was flabbergasted. “Geez! What’s with everyone today? I’m 238. Maybe 240 tops. I weighed this morning.” Hank looked at me doubtfully. “Look, I don’t mind. It’s just that you’re always givin’ me shit about usin’ and here you are.” That was not entirely accurate. I only got on him when he used too much. He was a top-level competitor, but occasionally his dosing would get ridiculous. “I’m NOT using!” I exclaimed. “Give me your cell. I’ll call Terry right now and you can go down with me tomorrow so he can test me.” I held out my right hand. He continued to stare as if he didn’t believe me. Exasperated, I threw my arms in the air, turned around and took a few steps away. “Hank. You’ve known me for ten years. I’m probably the most honest person you know. Why would I lie to you about this?” “It don’t add up,” he said. “Look, I’m glad you’re alright. I’ll give you a call later in the week.” He turned away. “Sure,” I said, surprised and disappointed at his abrupt departure. “Thanks for checking on me, Big Red. I appreciate it.” “Don’t even call me that right now,” he said as he began to cross to the east side of the avenue. Hank shaved his head, but it was his copper-colored hair that had caught my eye a decade ago. I had stopped for coffee on my way to help a friend of mine with a build-out contract he had won near City Hall. His drywall guy had called in sick and I was on stand-by for a new project... I couldn’t imagine that anyone else could fit into the small lower Manhattan coffee shop, but at least I was next in line. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, I turned my head to the right and looked through the double-glazed floor-to-ceiling glass wall. It was about 8:30 and the sidewalk was filled with people on their way to work. I was about to check my position in line when a flash of copper drew my attention. I looked back just in time to see a massively built redhead in a skin tight white v-neck shirt pass through a beam of reflected morning sunlight. His beard and shoulder-length hair seemed to glow even after he was back in shadow. He passed right by me and I craned my neck around to see him pause at the entrance to the coffee shop. “Hey buddy, you’re up,” the suit behind me said impatiently. I jumped. “Sorry,” I muttered before stepping forward and ordering a large coffee. Even as a tall skinny kid was filling my order, I turned back to see where the redhead had gone. The shop was too crowded though. I couldn’t see everyone in line, let alone on the sidewalk outside. Disappointed, I was edging my way through the line to leave when I came face-to-face with a coat of trimmed red hair struggling to escape the opening of a v-neck t-shirt that was stretched across a pair of extra-large pectoral slabs. I looked up at the owner of the massive chest and our eyes instantly locked. “Buy you a coffee?” I asked. “But you don’t even know my name,” he said, playfully. I had already named him, however. Thick copper hair and beard, matching chest and forearm fur, porcelain-white skin with just a touch of red... I held out my hand. “Good to meet you, Big Red. I’m Jamal.” He laughed and took my hand. “Hank,” he said. “And yes, you can buy me a coffee, but you have to wait on line wit me.” Hank continued across the avenue and I smiled to myself as I watched his familiar swagger. “I love you, man!” I called out. “Shuddup,” he said without looking back. Matt looked at me. “That didn’t go very well.” I sighed. “He’ll be fine.” It was obvious Hank was still mad, but I’d upset him worse before. This time, however, I truly had done nothing to anger him - except to somehow gain around ten pounds. * * * Or fourteen. Back in the bathroom of my apartment, I stepped off my digital scale. “252.4,” Matt said proudly. “See?” Naturally, I had stopped to check myself out in the full-length mirror on the inside door of my closet and I really did look bigger. Somehow, in the course of the day I had gained a significant amount of muscle mass. I was both leaner and more massive and could no longer deny it. “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” I said to no one in particular. I was certainly pleased with my gains, but also unnerved. “People don’t gain fourteen pounds in one day.” “How big are your arms?” Matt asked. “About nineteen and a half inches. I haven’t hit twenty since I was 35 – the peak of my last cycle – and I wasn’t as lean back then.” “Where’s your tape?” “What makes you think I have a tape?” He gave me the oh-no-you-didn’t look. Busted, I pulled my tape out of the top drawer and handed it to him. I hit a double biceps pose in the mirror. They were clearly bigger. The biceps were full and round with a distinct split that crowned triceps that could only be described as mammoth. My delts looked like segmented cannonballs. Everything was bigger and more cut. Matt stood behind and measured my upper arms. I grew hard just looking at myself. Fucking Muscle Stud, I thought. I bet if I really tried I could give Hank a run for his money by the next Mr. O. My arms, it turned out, were just over twenty inches cold. Despite my confusion, I was giddy. I had reached my goal size naturally, if mysteriously. I turned around to kiss Matt only to find that he had already removed his pants. His long cock was rapidly growing. “Fuck me,” he said as he stared dumbstruck at my chest. I lifted him up with surprising ease – he’s much lighter than I expected – then carried him to my bed and tossed him down. I undressed as quickly as I could but my Levi’s proved difficult to properly remove. I simply tore them off. “That was so easy,” I said to myself as I tossed them aside. I climbed onto Matt. “How’s my sexy boy?” “I must be dreaming,” he said as he looked into my eyes. His expression of adoration was so sweet and sincere I couldn’t help but smile. Once again he seemed almost star-struck. I laughed as I positioned myself over him, supporting myself with my arms. “I feel like I’m dreaming, because I sure don’t remember selling my soul to the devil.” “There is no devil,” Matt said. “But clearly there is a god, and I think he’s about to fuck me.” I blushed and smiled. “Naw, I’m just a big stud alpha male, but I am going to fuck your sexy ass.” “That’s more like it,” he said. As I lubed up, I noticed how big and hard my cock was. It could have been simply that I was unusually excited, but my thick endowment seemed bigger than ever. It didn’t matter, however. All I knew was that it needed to be in Matt’s perfect hole and after a few minutes of kissing on his handsome face and eager lips while gently working his sphincter, I pressed the engorged head against it, locked my eyes on his and began bucking my hips just enough to slowly push it in a half-inch at a time. He grimaced and I paused. “Keep going,” he said between deep, controlled breaths. “I’ll be fine.” He didn’t need to tell me twice and I resumed my measured thrusts. My eyes rolled back in my head as the heat and pressure of his ass caressed my manhood, as if to welcome and thank me for the penetration. “Oh god it feels so good,” he said once he was fully impaled on my tool. Our eyes locked before he smiled and clamped down on my shaft, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. I gasped. “You’re telling me,” I said. I fucked him for nearly two hours. Or should I say, his ass serviced my cock for two hours. I stood and used him as a human fleshjack, fucked him on all fours like a dog, fucked him from the side, fucked him as he sat on my cock... I came in his ass three times and never went soft, he shot twice but still couldn’t get enough – then his endurance ran out. “I have to stop,” he said after our last orgasm. We were both dripping with sweat. My sheets were soaked. “It hurts too much, sorry.” He was seated on my cock and I slowly lifted him off. “Hey, don’t apologize. That was ... amazing. And to be honest, my dick is a bit raw too.” The cool air felt strange on my cock, which remained stubbornly erect. I couldn’t recall ever being so turned on, even when I was young. He put his hand around the base. “So fat,” he said as it surged briefly fuller at his touch. “It’s magnificent.” “You make it that way.” I did have a nice cock. It wasn’t huge, but it was decently thick, especially at the base. Hank called it The Torpedo. I thought that was an exaggeration, but today the nickname seemed fairly accurate. He continued to hold on to it, which seemed to keep it from deflating. After a few moments he looked into my eyes again. “You’re magnificent.” I smiled. “Care to join me for dinner?” I ventured. I wasn’t hungry, which was surprising given I was always hungry, but I wasn’t ready to send him on his way either. He sighed. “I can’t. I should be getting back to my friend’s. You’re not easy to just walk away from though.” Despite my disappointment, I chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “How long are you here for?” “Until Saturday,” he said as he ran the fingers of his free hand through the hair on my chest. My cock throbbed again. “Jim is planning some stuff for us to do but I want to see you again.” “Hell, yeah. I work days and go to the gym evenings but I’ll make time for your sexiness.” I leaned over and kissed him. “That was the most fun I’ve had in years.” “Better than Hank?” He asked with a wink. I laughed again. “Hank is ... Hank is ... well, Hank is a long story, but he really does look out for me. He’s a bit needy, but a great friend.” Matt and I exchanged numbers and e-mail addresses – then he was gone. I walked back to my chair, looked at the smashed television, and sighed. He didn’t even ask about that, I thought. I wonder if he even noticed? I fell back into the chair. Matt’s absence was palpable. Our chemistry was magical. Somehow, in the span of only a few hours, he had gotten under my skin. I glanced down at the paper he had written his information on: [email protected]. He was a vet? Veteran or veterinarian? I realized that I really didn’t know anything about him other than that he was from Cleveland, sexy as hell, and an insatiable bottom, at least with me... I held him against the wall, his legs over my shoulders, my hands on his hips, and fucked him relentlessly. “You know you’re a master stud, right?” he said breathlessly. “Right? And so fucking strong.... I wish I could live with your fat cock up my ass. You should get paid to breed... UGH!” A long rope of his cum landed across his face and chest... My dick surged back to life. I had come three times in two hours, something I hadn’t done since high school, and I was hard again. That now-familiar pressure began to build in my crotch. Back in the bathroom, I leaned against the vanity and stroked my cock while admiring my reflection. Thick, ripped muscle covered with glossy black hair. So fucking masculine. I rubbed my left hand over the mounds of my pecs, feeling the dense muscle, lifting the heavy masses, relaxed but powerful, bulging far beyond the shredded cobblestones of my abs. I closed my eyes and worked my cock, imagining that I was fucking Matt’s face, stretching his jaw wide open, forcing my cock down his throat, and listening to him gag even as he pulled my crotch into his face, feeling my low-hanging balls slap against his chin. “Yeah, you’re hungry for that muscle cock, aren’t you boy?” I said aloud. The first volley of cum hit the mirror above the vanity with an audible smack, but in my imagination I was pumping my load down his throat, filling my hungry boy with cum until his belly was distended. I opened my eyes. Four distinct ropes of cum hung from the mirror. What the fuck??? After cleaning the mirror, I stepped back and appraised my physique. I still looked bigger. There was no question. Bigger and more ripped. I stepped back on the scale again: 253.5. I gained a pound while having sex for two hours and not eating anything? Again incredulous, I went to the closet, pulled the mechanical scale from the top shelf and stood on it, watching the dial swing and bounce a few times before settling on 255. I walked back to the digital scale in the bathroom: 253.5. Goosebumps formed all over my body – I was growing – without eating. Which was, of course, impossible. Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1261-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-three/

12/4/13 Right first things first picture update so...... Me Yesterday http://www.purelifts.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/How-to-build-muscle-naturally-for-skinny-guys1.jpg Me Today http://ectomorphworkout.org/wp-content/uploads/Ectomorph-Workout-Home.jpg I have to confess guys i took 2 pills last night seeing what the effect would be and as you can see its had a great affect! NON of my clothes fit me now which was difficult for college this morning let me tell you, i struggled to put my t-shirt and when i eventually got it on the sleeves were up to my shoulders, and the bottom rose halfway up my abs, my trousers were just about clinging to my thighs for dear life any wrong movement and they would rip to shreds. Its safe to say when i arrived at college this morning, it wasnt only alex that was getting the stares, girls and guys were staring at me as though i was an alien, a few of the guys were fiddling with there packages! I caught up with buff dave and my mates i wasnt up to daves size yet but tomorrow i would definitely surpass it, like the rest of the school there faces were a picture, they asked me what the hell i had taken, even dave was purplexed by my new size, i just told them i had found these pills online to go with my supplements, obv i didn't give them the true story!!! Dave asked if i would like a bicep comparison, in my new state of confidence and physique i agreed, dave went first, he rolled up his sleeve, his arm looked bigger than before even before he flexed it,he flexed it and it swelled into a huge mound of muscle on his arm, he smiled and informed me it had reached 20", i told him i had no chance of beating that size, but i wanted to see what my new bigger arm looked like, it took me ages to roll my sleeve up as it was skin tight against my new size arms, i flexed my arm and a moderate sized lump appeared no were near the size of daves but it was way bigger than he had imagined, dave was impressed with my peak, he said it looked at least 16-17", i told him i would measure it when i got home and let him know tomorrow. I was walking down the corridor to leave to come home when i felt a huge hand clasp itself on my shoulder, the power of hand instantly stopped me in my tracks, it was obvious that is was the muscle freak that was alex, his huge hand swung me round and i was face to his obscenely gargantuan chest, for the first time since it first happened with jack i felt my bulge grow ever harder. Alex was suprised at my superfast growth and questioned what i had taken,i wasn't about to lie to this behemoth so i told him about the pills and what there effect was. Alex commented that i looked good and urged me to "unleash my inner beast". i told him i was a bit sceptical about taken the full lot, what he told me next defied belief. He told me that if i took the full lot or got to his size i should move in with him and start a muscle domination company!!!! A feeling inside me was one of do i really want to do this, but another feeling was one of who the hell would cross us or disobey us. I thought about it for a min and told..... ok!! As of yet i have not decided how big to get!!........... oh and i measured my bi's 17" hehehe Till the next time.

Hey guys, I submited this story to metabods a while ago, but I thought I'd post it here as well to see what you guys think of it! This is my first post, hope you enjoy! http://metabods.com/mb/index.php/Hot_night_air

* hey guys sorry for wait again, FYI the pics will not be of the same guy, just pulled random pics based on current and future physiques* 11/4/13 OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!! I can't explain how i look and feel right now, those pills god damn work, here's me last night: http://www.fitnessandpower.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/skinny1.jpg And me now: http://www.purelifts.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/How-to-build-muscle-naturally-for-skinny-guys1.jpg As you can see there has been a major change overnight and that was just 1 pill, imagine if i took 2 or 3 a night, hmmmmm. Anyway jack left for his training camp this morning, so i ended up going to the gym on my own, the workout clothes i had worn in previous weeks still fit but they were really tight on my new body, i had pecs now so they pressed tight against the t-shirt, the t-shirt also hugged my abs quite nicely, my bi's n tri's caressed the arms of the t-shirt without it being tight against them, my legs have gained some mass and definition, the joggers i have still fit properly but but slightly hugged my thighs and butt. I arrived at the gym and was greeted not by looks of total astonishment but looks of slight shock by seemingly rapid weight and muscle gain since yesterday. I went onto the gym floor with a slight air of confidence about myself knowing that i would be able to lift heavier than i had yesterday, now im not going to go through all the exercises that i did because there is other things i need you all to see but here is what i lifted today compared to first day: Bench - 1st day 5kg - Today 55kg Squat - 1st day 10kg - Today 60kg Deadlift - 1st day just bar - Today 60kg Pullups - 1st day not one - today 10 Dips - 1st day non - Today 15 Bicep Curls - 1st day 8kg - today 18kg As you can see guys there has been a major shift in strength just imagine wot i can lift in a few days!!! i went back into the locker room and looked in the mirror, wow oh wow, i had a epic pump going on, i couldn't resist flexing my bi's, my god they formed a decent size lump which stretched my sleeve to the limit, i didn't have a tape with me to measure but i measured them when i got in and they measured 15" when i first started i was lucky if they broke 7" so im fucking buzzing at mo. Im off college today but i feel as though i should share these next two pics with you, i got a text earlier from buff dave, it read TAKE A LOOK AT THESE, DAVE. The first pic is dave taking a topless selfie and my god he is buff n getting ripped. The second is the gargantuan Alex who according to dave kindly supplied him with a pic all im saying is HUUUUUUGE. http://sv6.postjung.com/picpost/data/254/254826-52becde0acf23.jpg http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ey6zXv2ObK8/UG0gPJuprqI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/OB9DDttEgUs/s640/394201_360658400674888_104173225_n.jpg As you can see there both pretty damn built in there own right!!! Day off gym tomorrow as at college all day, i intend to ask how dave was given a pic of alex so kindly supplied by him. Anyway i will update tomorrrow if i can if not it will be the next day

This is my first story ever, so I'll accept any criticism you give me. Note: This story will contain a bunch of my fetishes. I'm not sure exactly where it will go yet though. I do know that it will include incest, macro, muscle growth, straight to gay, and musk. If any of those offend you, this won't be the story for you. ************************************************************************************************************************* “I hate how small I am,” Trey complained to his friend after he stepped out of the car. The small teen had just been accused of having a fake ID by a police officer, pulled over because he looked way too young to drive a car. “You're not THAT small,” James, his much larger friend answered. “You're a really bad liar James,” Trey said, pushing his long brown hair out of his dark eyes. James really was lying. At 5'3 and 85 pounds, Trey was the smallest senior at his high school. And it had always been this way. He was the smallest kindergartener, the smallest freshman, and now the smallest adult. Trey constantly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him as big as his dad, an absolutely massive man. Heck, at this point he would settle for average height, maybe 5'7”. But according to every doctor, he was done growing, and Trey would have to settle with being small. James patted him on the back. “It doesn't matter man,” he said. “You've got a lot to be proud of.” Trey frowned. It was easy for James to say that. At 5'11 and 190 lbs his muscular, football playing friend had never been confused for being small. He looked up into his friends icy blue eyes. “Whatever dude,” Trey said. “Lets just look for clothes.” The boys walked into the mall to find summer clothes. As they looked around, they saw a strange looking shop that neither had remembered seeing before, in all their trips to the mall. The small, partially hidden shop's sign claimed that it sold “Chinese curios, knick-knacks and traditional medicine.” “Lets check this out,” James said, pulling on his smaller friend. “Maybe they'll have cool stuff.” The boys split up and looked around. James seemed drawn to the strange decorations, while Trey was eying the swords and weapons. The large Chinese man behind the counter smiled at Trey, before going back to inventory as Trey admired his wares. A butterfly knife caught his eye. “Excuse me,” Trey asked, “How much for this knife?” The Chinese man grabbed it and looked at it in his hands. “This is well crafted. It would cost you at least 100 dollars.” He smiled down at Trey. “However, I cannot sell a weapon such as this to someone younger than 18 without a parent or guardian, so you will either need to wait a few years, or bring your parents with you, young man.” Trey's face fell. “I am 18.” he pulled out his ID, a common enough occurrence when one looks five years younger than they are. The older man looked Trey up and down and then smiled. “Ah” he said. Then went into a back room. The man walked out holding a large pill bottle, covered in Chinese characters. “This is what you need then.” Trey frowned. “What is it?” “The solution to your problems. These are Chinese growth pills. If you take one a day, you will soon become a much larger man. You won't be mistaken for a child any longer.” James walked over to the counter. “That's impossible,” he said. “Oh no,” the shopkeeper answered. “I can promise you they work. When I was twenty, I was only slightly larger than your friend here. As time went on, I became the man I am today.” “I call bullshit,” James said, “Trey lets get away from this snakeoil salesman.” Trey however, looked enthralled. “How much is it?” he asked. “How much do you have on you?” Asked the shopkeeper. A look of disgust fell on James's face. “You're gonna buy this shit?” he asked. “Worth a shot,” Trey answered, “nothing else has ever worked.” He turned to the shopkeeper. “I've got 45 dollars and some change.” The shopkeeper smiled. “Sold!” he said, accepting Trey's money. Trey emptied his wallet on the counter, and grabbed the large jar. “Take one a day, until you reach the size you want,” said the shopkeeper. “Make sure to never take any more than that, or there will be consequences.” “Sounds good!” Trey said, and then walked out with his purchase. “You got scammed hard,” James said once they got away from the store, “but hey, if being tricked by old Chinese guys makes you happy, who am I to judge.” The boys eventually arrived at Trey's house. “I wish I could read Chinese,” Trey said as he studied the bottle. “But I'll just settle for doing what the shopkeeper said.” He opened the bottle and popped a pill into his mouth. James looked down at his smaller friend and laughed. “Not any bigger yet huh. Told you you were scammed.” “Maybe they take time,” Trey answered, willing to believe anything. “Yeah and maybe I'm the queen of England.” James shot back. He started walking into the living room. “Whatever, forget about that lets play Madden. I'll set it up, you grab us some pops.” Trey watched his friend disappear, admiring his taught muscles in his tight shorts, and how his blonde hair fell almost to his muscular back. If only James was gay, he'd be exactly Trey's type. He'd settle for James being the best friend he could ask for though. As he grabbed the pops, a he saw the pill container sitting on the corner of the counter. “One more couldn't hurt,” he said, as he popped a second pill into his mouth, before heading out to join his friend on the couch. Trey and his friend sat down and played video games for a few hours, so enthralled with their games that they failed to notice the miraculous changes hitting the smaller of the two men. As they played, Trey's body swelled, his pecs and abs starting to gain some definition, and his arms gaining the smallest hint of muscle. Under his shirt, which no longer covered his abs entirely, a small, wispy trail of hair snaked down to the beginnings of a bush of pubes. His armpits, too gained hair for the first time in his life. Trey's short legs began to expand, leaving his ankles, and eventually a bit of his calf visible under the now tighter jeans which seemed much too small for the frame he had expanded to. The one change Trey did feel, however was the heat. He was sweating profusely, starting to soak through the shirt. “Is it hot in here?” a deeper voice called out. “Woah,” both boys said in unison. Then they both turned their attention to Trey's body. “Oh my god it actually worked!” James said, looking over his friend. “I mean, you're still small, but you're like, average sized now. All of this was one pill?” Trey blushed. “Well, actually, two, but hey I'm not gonna argue with these results.” He wiped the sweat from his still boyish face with the bottom of his tshirt. Revealing the beginning of abs, and the light body hair. James looked on in shock, “you sure don't look 13 anymore, I'd say more like 16.” Trey grinned. “Hey, let's just get me to 18, and then we'll call it a day.” “Are you sure that's a good idea,” James said, looking a bit worried, “I mean, the shopkeeper said-” Trey frowned. “Man forget what he said, I've got a chance of being average for the first time in my life. I'm gonna take a few more.” James shook his head. “If you think it's a good idea, whatever, it's your body. Just know that I am 100% against this. Trey flexed his small arms. “You're just against this because you're afraid I'll get bigger than you,” he joked. “But I promise I won't overdo it.” “Knock yourself out shortstuff.” “Not for much longer,” he answered. Trey went back to the kitchen and grabbed two more pills, popping them into his mouth and then drinking a glass of water to take them down better. He looked at his ill fitting clothing, and took off his shirt and jeans just in case anything bad happened. He didn't want to get stuck in them, and besides, he was sweating buckets. James walked in after him, “I'll watch over you just to make sure you don't die or anything,” he said, patting his friend on the back, seemingly unfazed by seeing his best friend, who had just grown about 4 inches, in just a pair of tight underwear. This time, the growth hit faster, and this time he could feel it. He groaned as his body slowly expanded. First came his arms, which widened from 10 inches to a pair of nice 15 inch biceps. As his body slowly grew upwards, his pecs and abs hardened, gaining definition that looked like it came from years of working out lightly, his abs hardening into a six pack, and his pecs beginning to take on a shape that could only come from lifting weights regularly, as his nipples began to point downwards. His legs expanded and shot outwards, with his quads hardening and becoming defined, like a soccer players. In the front of his shorts, his package expanded to match his growing body, with his formerly three inch long dick hardening and lengthening into a nice 9 inch tool. His balls expanded until they were the size of small eggs. Trey's new body strained against his underwear, as the last phase of his transformation went underway. His body exploded with hair. His large bush became visible over his tented boxers, and the treasure trail on his six pack pushed upwards and outwards until it merged with the patch of hair that had formed over his now large pecs. His armpits became even bushier as hair grew on his forearms, and expanded down his lower body, from his ass down to his feet. As a final touch, stubble grew on Trey's manly jaw. Trey was panting and sweating as he looked eye to eye with his friend. He smiled as he made eye contact. “I'm definitely not a little kid anymore, huh James?” His deep voice called out as he laughed. “Definitely not,” James said in awe. “Lets stop here though Trey, any more and you won't pass for yourself at all.” Trey walked into the bathroom, and stepped on the scale. “193 lbs.” He said with a smile. “How much do you weigh, James?” “190! Damn you're big now!” James said. “Damn right,” Trey said, flexing. As he hit the double bicep pose, exposing his sweaty, hairy pit, the first side effect, the reason for not taking more than one a day became apparent. Trey's body was now producing a strange pheromone, one that made him irresistible to men. The smell drifted over to his now smaller friend, who was beginning to tent in his shorts, his own sizable erection straining. “Trey you smell...” James said looking confusedly at his friend, and eying the body, focusing especially on the straining cock in too small of briefs. “You smell so hot.” Trey looked puzzled. He knew his friend was straight. “What was that James?” he asked, hoping to understand what was going through his friends mind. “Your body,” James said, almost drooling, “It's so sexy, and muscular, and you smell so good.” “I thought you were straight,” Trey asked, confused. “I am, but how could I turn you down,” James said, approaching his friend, and lifting his arm up. James began to inhale his friends armpit sweat, before looking at Trey with hunger in his eyes. “Trey” he said, “I really want you to fuck me.” Trey looked on at James, his confusion showing on his face. He realized that it must be from the pills. “You want me to fuck you?” “Yes, more than anything.” James said, pulling down Trey's underwear, and began to suck on his large cock. Trey moaned loudly. “Oh god James,” he gasped, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. James didn't answer, and continued sucking on the dick in front of him. It was clear, from the way that he struggled against the cock in his mouth that it was his first time ever, but he made up for it in how eager he was. “Fuck,” Trey moaned as James took the head in his mouth and swirled the tip around with his tongue, before licking up and down the sides. “If you keep that up I'm gonna shoot,” Trey groaned. James pulled off Trey's cock. “Good, stud,” he said. “Shoot, but not in my mouth.” James stood up and pulled off his basketball shorts. He turned around and bent over in front of Trey, before exposing his virgin ass covered in a light layer of hair. “Fuck me Trey.” He called out. Trey didn't need to be told twice, as he began to push the head of his cock against his formerly straight friend's asshole. “You sure about this James?” He asked, as he teased the hole with his tool. “More than anything,” James moaned, “Fuck me hard stud.” Trey pushed the head into his friends ass, causing him to gasp and moan. Slowly but surely, he stuck all 9 inches of meat into James's virgin hole. James was moaning in pleasure. “Now fuck me stud” he called out. Trey began to fuck, and fuck hard. He pounded his cock in and out of his friend's ass, his balls slapping against James's as he pushed in and out. There was no way he was gonna last long. James moans became louder and louder, and soon, without warning, he came, shooting all over the bathroom wall, clenching his ass as his cock shot out. That proved too much for Trey, who came deep into his friends ass. Panting, he pulled his soft cock out of his friends ass. James seemed to be in bliss. “That was the best sex of my life,” he moaned, “who knew what I was missing out on.” Trey smiled at his friend. “It was great for me too. Now lets get dressed and cleaned up.” James frowned. “No dude, he said, lets just enjoy each other for a while. Just not in the bathroom. I'm too spent for more sex, but I'd love to just feel you." Trey flexed once more. "Still 100% against this?" James stood up and kissed his friend on the lips. "You know the answer to that, sexy." They walked back to the living room. James laid on top of Trey on the couch, as the friends felt up eachother's bodies. James seemed especially concerned with licking up his friends sweat, from wherever it was, paying close attention to the armpits. Trey was in heaven, wishing this moment would never end. Soon however, James noticed the clock. “Fuck man it's almost five. I've got work in like 20 minutes. I've gotta go. Trey watched as his friend hurridly put on his clothes, and ran out the door. “See you tomorrow?” He called as his friend left. “Of course, stud.” James called out. “We hung out every day before you got hot as hell, why would I stop now?” Trey waved at his friend as he left, and closed the door. Then he realized his problem. He was 8 inches taller than he was in the morning, and bigger and stronger too. He hardly looked like the same person, and his dad would be home any minute. So what do you guys think of my first attempt?

Author's note - this is an ongoing story I started in 2011 and posted on the old site. I managed to write and post 14 chapters of Part I. The 15th and last chapter has languished untouched for years because, well, let’s just say the past few years have been very stressful and challenging. But I’m back and continuing work on Chapter 15. I’m going to post the existing chapters one at a time unchanged from the original. Speaking of which, here is Chapter 1. * * * A few months had passed since my 39th birthday and for the first time I was beginning to feel old. Ten years before, I had promised myself that by 40, I would weigh over 250 pounds, own my own home in Manhattan, and have a partner. So far I was zero for three. I was striking out at my own game, not that I had anything to complain about, at least physically. At a few inches shy of six feet tall and 240 pounds with around nine percent body fat, I was impressively built. But we are never big enough, are we? My name was Jamal and I was somewhat of a mutt. My dad was half Syrian and half Native American, my mom half African and half Samoan. The combination resulted in a Mediterranean appearance with olive-brown skin and green eyes beneath dark eyebrows. I usually sported a thick black beard and after ten years of busting my butt, I had built up a hard, thick musculature that as a bonus was covered in dense, black hair. So yeah, many guys considered me hot. Some might say exotic. I thought I was okay. I worked construction, which I learned early on was unusual for a gay man. Most guys thought it a turn on, but sometimes I would happily push paper in a comfortable office rather than sweat or freeze in the typical New York weather. How did I get into it? A straight friend of mine hired me after high school and that was that. I averaged a decent five-figure income, but certainly couldn’t afford to buy where I lived. Project-based jobs usually don't promise a steady income, but in the end I found it satisfying to have something tangible to show for my effort, so I stuck with it. I was single. In fact, I had always been single, though I certainly had lots of sex. I loved to fuck, and guys loved to get fucked by a big guy like me. Why was I single? The short answer to that was that no one understood me, which is a nice way of saying that I was hard for most to put up with for long. Was I a jerk? No. The problem was that I cared too much, which is a good place to begin this story. I had a studio apartment in the West Village near the Meatpacking District. It was nice enough. Five flights up, good view to the west, lots of light in the afternoon, and yes – a window unit air conditioner, which I was sitting in front of after taking the elevator up and hanging my sweaty tank on the doorknob. My workout had been good, and I leaned back in my old, stained brown leather chair and closed my eyes. My sweat-soaked body relaxed in the cold breeze of the a/c, which was a blessing on a hot day like today. I felt my nipples grow hard from the cold air and looked down at my heavy, meaty pecs. My chest was certainly my strongest body part. I was pretty lucky with my genetics – everything responded well to training – but my pecs were exceptional. They were perhaps a bit too big for the rest of me, but I kind of liked that. I watched as a bead of sweat somehow dodged the thick forest of hairs on the mound of my left pec and rolled down until it disappeared under its shelf. My cock twitched and I thought about calling Hank, my best friend and preferred fuck buddy. But I didn't. Instead, I swallowed the rest of my second post-workout smoothie and turned on the television. It took about ten seconds for my blood pressure to skyrocket. Every time I paid attention to the news, I promised myself I would start ignoring it. The television wasn't an entertainment device. It was a window into chaos. In less than five minutes, CNN reported terrorist attacks across Europe by Al-Qaeda, several murders of gays, blacks and Mexicans in America's more “red” states by assorted extremist groups, Palestinian rockets striking Jewish neighborhoods amid Israel's demolition of Arab housing in east Jerusalem, sectarian strife in Iraq and Afghanistan, the violent crackdown on worker's riots in corporate America's Asian sweatshops, widespread conflicts over water rights in Africa... I wasn’t the brightest bulb in New York, but it didn't take a genius to see that most of human misery was self-perpetuating and completely unnecessary. Why hadn't I hitched up? Apparently, I was “too compassionate.” I let the human-inflicted suffering of others bother me too much. I allowed myself to get too worked up over events I couldn't control. And everyone was right. I did let horror stories get to me. The news gave me nightmares. I lost sleep over each new round of ethnic cleansing. I didn't have any control over these things, but they still felt wrong. And so I agonized over how cruel people were to each other, and after a few months of dating, it drove away potential mates. So I didn’t date. I had sex. I had fun, but didn’t let anyone under my skin because they never lasted. I exhaled slowly and tried to center myself. I changed the channel. Local weather. A cold front was on the way that would end the current heat wave. It was October already, but summer remained in overtime. Then they switched to national news, covering a senator from Oklahoma who was speaking to reporters and saying that America was facing a three-pronged attack from homosexuals, illegal aliens and Muslims and that these groups needed to be eradicated. “Fuckin’ moron,” I mumbled. I changed the channel. A news bulletin announced the execution of a gay man who was found guilty of hate crimes against a Christian group in Texas. He had been captured by three members of a church group while leaving a bar in Waco, taken to the country and beaten, though he managed to fight back and break the neck of one of his abductors. The other men got in their church van and fled. The man called the police on his cell phone – and was arrested. The trial and sentencing had ignited a media firestorm worldwide but to no avail. The Texas governor had refused to stay the execution because she wanted to show that attacks on Christians would not be tolerated. “It is essential that people of faith be free to express their beliefs,” she said. Two seconds later a thirty-pound dumbbell shattered the television screen. “Fuck!” I yelled, as much at myself as at the moronic governor. I jumped up from the sweat-stained chair. My heart pounded in my chest. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” It was beyond outrageous. They executed a man for defending himself and called it justice. I was filled with frustration and anger. Extremists continued to gain more and more control over people's lives – and deaths. My stomach cramped, severely, and I doubled over, falling to the floor. My face and neck burned. A voice pierced the thick haze that surround me… “… the mass execution of homosexuals has been resumed by Iran's hardline government…” a man was saying. Despite my sudden disorientation, I realized that audio was still playing through the receiver. My rage intensified and I saw red. Red. Rage, apparently, was red. For even with my eyes open it was the only color that existed and as I writhed on the floor it engulfed my body, tingling as if every part of me had been deprived of blood only to have it restored minutes later. At the same time, the heat in my face and neck spread across my body until my skin burned. Saliva filled my mouth and I vomited. Then there was nothing. * * * I was wet. Actually, I was covered in sweat. The voice of a male anchorman filled the room and I opened my eyes, blinking in the glare of the early afternoon sun pouring through the window. I could smell urine and … something else. To my horror, I realized that I had not only lost control of my bladder, but my bowels as well. What the fuck? I sat up, fumbled for the remote, and turned off the entertainment system. Next, I carefully removed my gym shorts and tossed them in the trash. After unplugging the TV, I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Receding hairline. Dark, thick eyebrows. Heavy mustache and full beard. Black with a few strands of white. Generous body hair, particularly on my pecs, forearms and legs. My skin glistened with sweat. I shook my head. “You let yourself get so worked up you had a seizure,” I said to my reflection. “Nice.” After a hot shower and a quick lunch, I felt human again, if still agitated. I left a voicemail for Terry, a truly huge power lifter I had dated for a while who was now my doctor, and stood naked in the main room of the studio apartment, cell phone in hand. I needed a distraction. I dialed Hank but got his voicemail. After leaving him a short message, I decided that Plan B would be a beer. No. I needed several beers, and I pulled on an old pair of relaxed-fit Levi's, the belt required to hold them up and a fresh white tank top undershirt. In no time I was out the door. It was hot, but the sun was refreshing as I walked the several blocks to the Eagle. I greeted a few guys I knew, nodded at a few more I wouldn't mind knowing, and by the time I entered the two-story brick building that the bar occupied I was feeling pretty good. My negative funk had long since evaporated. I pulled off my shirt. Two hours and six beers later I was on the roof top patio, sitting on a bench and leaning back against the brick of the taller building next to the bar. The music was loud, the patio was packed and I stared relentlessly at an extraordinarily hot kid, probably ten years younger than I, who was standing in front of me but deep in conversation with some daddy bear who I didn't recognize. I watched the kid. He was tall – probably about six feet, maybe six one, and sandy blond with a full beard. He listened attentively and laughed easily; moved confidently but naturally. I found myself wondering how the scruff of his facial hair would feel between my thighs as he sucked me off. Time passed and I imagined the bliss of repeatedly ramming my cock between his perfect butt cheeks and into the soft heat of his hole. This little fantasy drifted lazily in my mind as I enjoyed the hot sun on my chest. I could feel myself growing hard – yet somehow drowsy. The sun felt amazing against my skin. I closed my eyes and wondered why I’d never noticed that before. Someone was shaking my left shoulder. I had fallen asleep. “You’re gonna get a sunburn, big guy,” I heard a voice say. I opened my eyes to find the scruffy blond kid standing immediately in front of me. His deep blue eyes were almost hypnotic, but he glanced downward at the wooden deck before looking at me again. Despite the confidence I had observed earlier, he seemed shy. The kid was beautiful. He had removed his t-shirt to reveal his lean, athletic torso. His well-developed chest was covered with a fine coat of blond hair that swirled around his eager nipples. I was so aroused that I was fully erect. “I haven’t seen you before,” I said as I covered the prominent bulge in my jeans with my tank-top. “I’m Jamal.” I held out my hand. “Where are you from?” “Matt,” he said quickly as we shook. “Cleveland. I mean ... I’m from Cleveland.” He’s nervous, I thought before he spoke again. “Well, I should get back to my host,” he said awkwardly. “I just didn’t want you to sunburn.” You mean you just couldn’t think of a reason to talk to me, as dark as I am it would take me a few hours to burn. I smiled. “Thanks,” I said and shrugged my shoulders. “Nice to meet you.” I watched his butt and sighed as he walked away into the upstairs bar. I waited for my disappointment to extinguish the heat in my crotch, but it didn’t. The need to fuck persisted. In the absence of distraction I noticed that we, or now I, had a small audience. Although I recognized a few of the faces, no one particularly interested me. I stood to leave and immediately noticed that my Levi’s seemed smaller. My cock strained uncomfortably against the fabric, which clung to my upper legs as if painted on. My muscles felt unusually full, as if fully pumped after a workout. It was a puzzling, but welcome feeling. I felt unusually strong, but dismissed it as part of the residual buzz. I used my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, shoulders and chest before walking back inside toward the stairwell. All eyes were on me as I left, which ordinarily would have made me feel self-conscious, but today I liked it. It seemed right. I was an alpha male, after all. My cock twitched but I paused at the top of the stairs. Alpha male? Where did that come from? I jogged down the stairs, enjoying the feeling of my thick muscles bouncing slightly with each step. The downstairs bar was clearing out. Matt stood in a small circle of guys with his lean, muscular back and perfect ass pointed right at me. The waist of his jeans hung very low on the beautiful white globes of his ass – how kids these days liked to wear them. I usually find that look sloppy but on him it was incredibly sexy. He turned around as if sensing my presence and I nodded. My heart pounded and my loins ached. I wanted him, but I didn’t feel comfortable pulling him from his friends. I continued forward until I was out on the sidewalk, where I stopped. I could just as easily go home and try Hank again. If he wasn’t available, there was always the memory of Matt’s backside and my right hand. I started walking back toward the Meatpacking District and home. His image remained in my mind with perfect clarity. The farther away I walked the more strongly I felt the need to return, as if I were pulling a giant elastic band that was growing more and more taught. “Oh, what I would give to see that boy naked,” I said aloud. I had almost reached 10th Avenue when I heard someone call out from behind. “Hey! Jamal!” And I turned to see Matt running toward me. My god he is beautiful, I thought as he approached. The slabs of his pecs bounced above his perfect, well-defined abs as he ran. Again my cock grew fully erect, which surprised me because it hadn’t responded that spontaneously in years. Then again, I couldn’t recall feeling that stimulated in years. “I’m just going to say it,” he began once we were face to face. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He glanced briefly at the ground before looking up again. Was he genuinely nervous or just a good actor? Either way, I found it endearing. “Are you doing anything? Do you want to, you know, hang out? I’m not...” I didn’t let him finish. I pulled him to me and drove my tongue into his mouth at the same time I wrapped my arms around his tight, muscular form and grabbed the firm mounds of his butt. Immediately his hands were all over my torso, feeling the spread and thickness of my lats, exploring my huge pecs. He pressed his crotch against mine and began grinding, either oblivious or apathetic that we were standing on a public street in full daylight. “Get a room!” A man in a car yelled as he drove by. I laughed and pulled away. “Good idea,” I said. “I probably shouldn’t rape you in public anyway.” “You can’t rape the desperate,” he said. I took his hand and began leading him to my place. “Somehow you don’t strike me as the desperate type.” “Just desperate for you,” he said. “I know it’s cliché, but you really are my fantasy man.” I chuckled and rolled my eyes. I’d be wealthy if I had a dollar for every time I’d been told that. Yet they always changed their mind... “Your jeans are kind of tight though.” My left eyebrow went up and I looked at him. “That’s a bad thing?” He was correct, however. Only hours ago they fit just fine and now they were skin tight – except in the waist. The only explanation I could come up with was that I was retaining a lot of water, but even that seemed unlikely – and inadequate. “You should leave something to the imagination,” he said. “No secrets here.” “No secrets? Okay, what happened to your back?” He had noticed the scars. “Hmm. Later,” I said. “Try again.” “Sure,” he said graciously. He didn’t press the question and that impressed me. “Okay. How much do you weigh?” This was The Question. Guys always wanted to know how much I weighed. How much I could bench. How much I could squat. How big my arms were. What supplements I used. It could be tiresome, but I didn’t mind him asking. “I hover around 240. I’ve been as heavy as 250 before but I can’t break it.” “No way. I’d say you’re at least 250 right now.” I shook my head. “Weighed myself this morning. 238.” “Dude. You’re huge. Your scale is broken.” “You seem very sure of yourself,” I said. “I am.” I smiled. “Well, Mr. Know It All, I have an old mechanical scale in my closet. We’ll just check it when we get to my place.” “Deal,” he agreed. “So what do I get when I’m right?” Some degree of cockiness was emerging through the shy behavior he had displayed until now. I found I liked it. “To get fucked by your fantasy man,” I said. “And if you win?” He asked. “I get to fuck my fantasy boy.” “I like it,” he said, smiling. “A win-win.” “Damn straight.” Next Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1194-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-two/

10/4/13 Today started with 2 knocks on my house door within a space of 10 mins, the first was the protein shakes, creatine and bcaa i had ordered the day before, the second was the one i had eagerly been waiting for for 3 days, the russian super quick growth pills, i stored the supplements away in my room but kept the pills out so i could inspect them. The bottle was plain black with a bright red sticker on it, the front of it had big white letters it read гигантский I googled the translation, it meant GARGANTUAN,a wry smile appeared on my face upon reading the translation, i translated the description of how to use them and i was surprised by what it said, here is the translation: There are 200 pills in this bottle, each pill will increase your weight by 10lb and add 2" to all your muscles! Enjoy your GARGANTUAN life. I had to read it again to make sure i was seeing right, i quickly did the math,if i took all the pills i would add 2000lb to my frame and 400" to my muscles, wow!!! That was just by using the pills, i've not even took into account my food and supplement consumption and my workouts, the question i asked myself was do i wanna take all the tablets!!! The label said to take it on a night time before bed. With all the excitement of the pills i had forgotten that i was meeting jack at the gym for our workout, i prepped my protein shake with added creatine powder and some bcaa tablets and headed off to meet him. Jack was waiting for me in the changing room, his shirt clinging to his tight ripped body, his thick thighs poking out of his shorts, even though all my thoughts were about me wanting to get freaky big i still had a soft spot for my bro, after all he got me started on the gym road, but seeing that freaky huge guy alex at college i only have thoughts for getting huge!!!! My gym routine was the same as day one, but over the week i have got my form sorted and lifting a little more weight, so at least i know im doing something right. At the end of the workout while in the locker room jack told me that he was going away for a week with his club for warm weather training but still encouraged me to use the gym in his absence, oh dont worry i will i said to myself. After i had showered i left the gym to go to college for my one lesson of the day, shitty numeracy, at least i had the pills and my looming growth to keep me from falling asleep, i didn't tell buff dave and my mates about the pills i want it to be a surprise hehe!!! Alex wasn't hard to spot with his massive size, i swear his arms must be at least 60" and his back is so wide he even struggles to get through double doors! Anyway i plucked up the courage to talk to him, i asked him how he got so big, he told me it was a long story but he was given some strange liquid by his brothers girlfriend, who was now his gf, i told him i'd love to be that size or bigger, and pigs might fly he told me, haha just you wait i thought. I caught up with buff dave, who i have to say is looking buffer, his clothes looking fucking skin tight now, he told me he had fallen more for the gym, he flexed his bicep, man it looked damn fine, he said it now measured 19". Seeing all this muscle was burning me up inside but i knew that the pills will make me so much bigger and stronger than him in a few days. Thats all i wanna say today, sorry for the shortness but im to excited about the pills and what i will look like tomorrow morning, im now off to pop my first pill, here goes!!!!!!

Hey everyone. So, this is the first story I ever wrote on both the old forum and the new. I'm definitly expanding the storyline, but I just felt like throwing this one out there. I am of course open to any comments or suggestions. Enjoy! =================================================================================================== I had realized the secret to my power; the key wasn’t to visualize events, it was to believe them to be true. So with that in mind I began to focus and imagine. I looked at Darrin and remembered how he had always been a short guy, but went through an incredible growth spurt when he was 15, shooting up like a weed until he was the tallest sophomore in school, clocking in at 6'7'' as a senior. At first he was uncomfortable with his new height, constantly tripping over his humongous feet and knocking stuff over, but with time he got used to towering over almost everyone he met, including his parents; his father, while rather large at 6'1'' and 200 lbs, was only chin level to his son, and that made enforcing his authority quite problematic, especially with later developments. You see, while a growth spurt certainly was handy for boosting self-esteem, he still looked like anyone who had been stretched 14 inches while maintaining the same weight would; like a walking bamboo tree. So with that in mind, Darrin embarked on his quest to become muscular. And so he began to work out at the school gym, at the beginning with meager weights, but soon he discovered he had a talent for packing on muscle, and his strength quickly grew, and within a month he noticed definite changes to his body; his chest, back, and shoulders were broader, and his arms and legs, previously pencil-thin, were bulging noticeably. After another few months he was approached by the Football coach, who, having recognized his potential, offered to train him in exchange for him joining his team. Darrin, already experiencing the craving for more power and strength, quickly accepted. Under the experienced hand of the coach, Darrin quickly blossomed into a towering pillar of muscle and became an absolute terror on the field, dominating entire teams with his sheer bulk and deceptive speed. He rose up through the ranks and attained the position of quarterback. He was 19 at the time. By that time it had become all but impossible for his father to control his actions any longer; his father, largely used to flexing his authority and bullying his family, quickly found the tables turned on him. Darrin had all but usurped his position of “man of the house”, since he was 7 inches taller and outweighed him by 80 lbs. A simple flex of his arms, built hard like sculpted granite, and just as hard, were enough to cow any opposition. And if that wasn’t enough, a flex of his mountainous pecs usually made the point. Darrin reveled in his new-found role and power, but he was always fair, for he understood unlike his father, that being the alpha meant responsibility to those below him more than those above him, and that being a leader required surrendering his own pride in favor of the well-being of his underlings. And so it was. I tried as hard as I could to believe what I was thinking, not merely to imagine it, but I hope it worked. I opened my eyes...

Another of my oldies.. Diving School Muscle Elysia bobbed up and down on the gentle ocean waves,anchored above the sight of the sunken wreck of the freighter Hephaistion, resting on the ocean bed at around 100 feet down. I sat in the cabin of the Elysia, monitoring the progress of the team of divers i had brought out to the wreck on my boat,catching a chance to relax and enjoy the warm sunshine and the calm shallows 4 miles out from Bermuda's Maritime Point. It was a good business ferrying divers to and from the Hephaistion and to the Sargasso reefs, and i had formed a close freindship with Alex and Jamie, two American buddies, who had just set up a Diving School together just outside of Hamilton and who had saved me from nearly drowning while snorkling near Devils Hole....'Damned Sea Turtles can be so alluring to watch!'. As a thank you to the two young guys for saving my life, i had formed a partnership with them as the boat operator with hopes of furthering their business and lining my pockets too. The wreck of the Hephaistion was a main pull for visiting divers. It had sunk nearly 29 years ago in heavy seas after an apparent disastrous fire in the engine room,and i think the main lure for divers to its grave,was the fact that it was rumoured to have had a crate of precious stones in the hold, but did'nt every shipwreck have some hidden treasures in their dark interiors!. As i expected, nothing had ever been found. Then there was the local lore that when the Hephaistion had gone missing in 1973 for 3 weeks,southeast of Bermuda in the Sargasso sea, it had been sucked into the Bermuda Triangle and not because it suffered damage in a storm. I had heard an urban legend, that if you stood at the very eastern tip of the island, at a turret in the National Maritime Fort,your watch would stop and run backwards for a while..'Bullshit!'.. i had tried it and nothing happened. One or two old maritimers had even said that the Hephaistion was deliberately sunk because the real killers of the islands Governor General back in 1973 were on board,and that the two men executed in 1976 which led to violent racial riots on the island,were innocent,and the British government and its Bermudian puppets, wanted to cover it up. Conspiracy theories bored me..As long as i had my boat and my beautiful idyllic life, i was fine.... Well,at least the Greek owners of Hephaistion had a sense of humour in naming it after Alexander the Greats gay lover...Full of happy sailors i guess,laughing to myself. I just sat in the cabin,my legs stretched out on the sideboard,taking in the sun and tranquility as the Elysia swayed gently on the ocean. Jamie and Alex had taken a group of 6 divers down to the wreck..All rich male college students from Boston on holiday, just a few years younger than my two buds, and all eager to learn how to dive. They were in two groups of 4 and had been down in the depths for a fair while now. I had a communication link to both Jamie and Alex,who had connections with the rest of the group,and both had undersea cameras with them,but i could not exactly retrieve a perfect signal on the monitor from them all the time.Too murky at times,other times too blurry,but sometimes i could see what they were doing crystal clear. I looked at the clock..2.50pm and then at the counters that kept an accurate digital reading of the air the group had in their tanks.They were going to have to come up soon. I picked up the microphone and sat forward to look at the monitor as it switched between Alex and Jamie. "Jamie,you'll have to come up soon,..you'll be running out of air." After a few moments of watching Jamie swimming along the freighters barnacle encrusted hull,he crackled back a response. "Yeah,no probs,Gilligan..i'm just looking for Hayden and Greg and we'll start back up." I gritted my teeth because i hated Jamie for keeping calling me Gilligan..joking about being shipwrecked on some desert island with some professor..I had not a clue what he was going on about?. 'It was Gilliam, and even better, just Gill !' . Jamie turned the camera to point at his face,and gave me the thumbs up, his sparkling blue eyes framed by the clear goggle mask, nearly the same colour as the sea. I checked upon Alex. He was swimming close behind two of the other college students.I could see their flippers waving up and down as they swam in front of him. "Its nearly time to come topside,Alex" "Yeah,i know." he replied, then a Barracuda suddenly swam close through his camera view,startling both Alex and myself. "Fucking fish..i nearly crapped in my suit" Alex said. I stifled a laugh as i got up to prepare to help the guys up on board. "See you in a mo.." muffled Alex. I acknowledged him as i walked to the back of the boat. Suddenly,the boat rocked heavily on a swell that seemed to come out from nowhere, and i nearly fell over the side,clinging hard on a side rung to stop me from going overboard. I stood up as the boat settled back down again, but at least 10 feet or so from behind the boat,i could see a wide circle of foaming,bubbling white water as if there had been an undersea explosion,..or the beast from 20,000 fathoms was about to rise its head out of the water! I felt my ears pop as if there was a sudden change in pressure,then a brief spell of dizziness,that i had to sit down to allow to pass. 'What the fuck was all that', i was'nt the one diving up from the depths and at risk of experiencing pressure change?. I watched as the foaming maelstrom on the ocean surface broke and dissipated as quickly as it came, returning to its tranquil rolling calm. "Oh shit..the divers!" i remembered. I rushed over to the monitor and literally shouted into the microphone. "Jamie,Alex, are you guys all OK down there?" i said with clear alarm in my voice. A few seconds of anxious waiting and for the camera footage to clear from a murkiness into dappled light, and Alex crackled onto his mike. "Yeah, why,..whats up?" Alex seemed calm as if he had'nt experienced anything that i had just gone through. "I just experienced a heavy wake as if something had happened down there with you guys.I nearly went overboard!". "Nah, nothings happened down here,not even turbulance of currents..Mind you,my wetsuits feeling a little tight though.." I sat back on the seat,both relieved that everything with Alex and his team seemed Ok,but perplexed by his odd comment on his wetsuit. I had helped him, and all the others into their neoprene wetsuits after applying the lubricating wax over their bodies, and being openly gay,i must admit i had found it mildly erotic rubbing the lean muscles and trim torso's of the better looking guys in the group. I shuddered myself out of an image of Alex peeling off his wetsiut to unveil his muscular smooth torso,before i got an erection. Jamie came on over the mike.."Whats up Gill, not becoming seasick after all the time in your boat,are ya?". "Very funny" i replied, as i watched him focus his camera a little too long on the firm arse of the student swimming close in front of him. "Why you looking at his arse,Jamie. I'm the gay one here?". "He's got such a nice full muscled butt, and i dunno why i ain't noticed how a guys butt looks so sexy in the first place!". I thought the camera was playing tricks on me as Jamie followed the guy upwards towards the surface,intermittently telling him and the others to ascend at a calm pace to avoid the bends, but it looked as if the young mans arse was expanding in his tight wetsuit.. The vision fuzzed as i caught a glimpse of the hull of the Elysia from below,the surounding surface waters dappled in sunlight. I got back preparing to haul up the divers onto the flat back deck of the boat. There was a break in the waters near the bow and a head popped up. It was Cody,one of the student divers. When i reached down to haul off his oxygen tanks, i could not help but notice that he seemed much broader in the shoulders and the arms much thicker beneath the sleek skin tight long sleeves. I shrugged it off as just tiredness as he clambered onto the boat, followed by his bud,Hayden. I scooped off the owygen tanks and secured them into a nearby racking and offered a hand down to pull up the cute young college jock with the golden blonde hair, azure blue eyes and tanned surfer boy looks.'Shit!' he felt heavy that i had to grip the side rungs to help him up. "Cheers bud" he said,grinning a perfect smile at me.his black and blue wetsuit looking un-naturally tight on a too thick physique. He had'nt been this built before he went into the water,..surely? Then Jamie surfaced and helped himself up onto the deck. I saw a definate change in his physique. He had been tall and thin when he had gone down to the wreck. Now he returned,still standing his 6 feet,but his wetsuit filled with a bulging curved shape of a powerful chest, and thick bulging arms. He looked at me staring at him and raised his arms up in a double bicep, the skin tight neoprene conforming to biceps that if it were possible,were expanding and stretching his long red and black sleeves."You like what you see,Gill?" he said teasingly. My cock stirred in my khaki boardshorts. There was a creaking groaning sound coming from my left, and i turned around to see Hayden with his arms up and hands clasped behind his head.His lats were swelling out a little too rapidly beneath his wetsuit and even the strong neoprene could not contain his burgeoning muscles as they grew bigger and bigger to the soze of a bodybuilders and then beyond!. His biceps really showed their growth,filling up his black sleeves making them look like bowling balls forming into fat near spherical mounds squeezing against thickening delts and traps.The sounds were coming from a rip spreading from under his arms,showing off the hairy arm-pits. I caught sight of another head rising out from the back of the boat. Greg..The short red haired and freckled kid. He rose up out of the water like the kraken at the end of Clash of the Titans,throwing his mask onto the deck, already huge with muscles,already his black and blue wetsuit ripped by biceps bulging through and rippled with veins, and heaving swelling pecs splitting open the front and busting the zipper,matted with thick stubbly red tinged hair.As he rose up,the strap over his shoulder,holding his oxygen tanks,snapped, and they tanks clanged onto the deck. I was too distracted by the huge thick shape of what could only be an oversized cock pushing his crotch obscenely.Turning to look at Hayden,then Cody, i could see huge bulges bloating their crotches as obscenely as Gregs..and Jamies. My own cock responded by throbbing into a prominant erection leaking pre-cum as i gazed upon them with fear mixed with lust. Jamie stomped towards me,just as Alex surfaced,again his yellow and dark blue wetsuit showing signs of a body growing massively muscled. Jamie blocked my view,glaring at me with glazed hungry eyes and groping an inhumanly large bulging cock. "Looks like something definately did happen below,..hey Gilligan".,emphasising the name to try an annoy me,but his growing size intimidated me more like!. The other guys laughed behind him,as i heard the sounds of their wetsuits ripping from swelling muscles. Jamie kept advancing towards me and i backed towards the steps and nearly fell down them if it had not been for Jamie to catch me in his powerful hands and lift me up by my waist as if i weighed nothing. "You ain't got nowhere to hide little man." Truth is, i had nowhere to hide.I was stuck on my boat 4 miles out from Bermuda in open sea.! Jamie carried me back outside,ripping off my clothes like they were made of paper and slumped me down naked with my pathetic little 6 inch erection,onto the deck. The Diving team had all come up now and had hauled themselves on board my boat. Each and every one of them, now grown or growing still, into hugely muscled hunks much more bigger than even the biggest bodybuilder. And they gathered around in a circle like hungry giants ready to eat me up. Crouched on the deck in the centre,i could only look up at their huge pecs bloated and filling out their wetsuits like painted mounds or ripping out of them,so big that it partially blocked the views of their grinning faces above. "How about a circle jerk over this little wimp" grunted Ben,once a tall wiry muscled student and now hulking over me,his massive chest densly covered with dark matted hair,heaving with each breath. I watched in mixture of desire and fear as the guys fumbled desperately with their obscenely stuffed crotches and whipped out huge fat cocks,as thick as beercans and all pretty close to,or over two foot in length.. Alex moved a little closer to me,grasping his gigantic pre-cum slick cock with both hands and began to beat off hard,grunting and huffing loudly,the fat flaring red cockhead already oozing pre-cum in thick globs. Matt,another student quickly joined in and began to beat his cock furiously,spitting and grunting like an animalon heat,his cock shaft throbbing with pulsing veins. Jamie spat on his hands and then pointed his huge vein streaked cock very close to my face and then banged away on it as wild as the others. I just sat there,naked and stiffly erect and began to stroke my own little dick,looking up at the hunks,their massive biceps flexing and bulging from ripped wetsuits,pecs heaving and juddering as they wanked over me bukkake style. Greg slapped me across the top of my head nearly sending me flying if it had'nt been for Hayden propping me back up. "Open your mouth Gill..,time for a cum shower." I lifted my head upskywards and gaped open my mouth just as the first of the muscleguys climaxed.Cum rained down impossibly thick globs and spattered into my mouth, signalling for the others to cum too. I gulped and swallowed as much as i could as i was literally soaked by their abnormally heavy loads. Ben and Alex leaned in towards each other and began to kiss passionately as they continued to whack off over me. Through cum soaked hair matting my face, i saw Jamie glaring down at me,his cock still spewing cum in torrents onto a slick deck.. "Its just us out here so why don't we have a little fun with you before we head back to port., hey Gill.!" I was at their mercy..but there was something else.... I had not noticed that my watch had stopped,or that the compass on the Elysia was going all haywire.. Are we gonna be out here for 3 hours or 3 weeks..? It seemed that the ghost of Hephaistion was laughing in the depths below.. THE END

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain,something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law ofEquivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one,and only, truth.— Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist Choices. That’s all life boils down to. Choices. If you had mentioned anything like this or the law of Equivalent Exchange long ago in my ‘old life’ as I like to call it, I’d say you were crazy. But that was before I met Kaos. I used to be a loner. At the age of 15, I ran away from home. My parents were these conservative, mundane people. My father was an overbearing man, wanting me to do everything he never did. So even from a young age, he had me playing every sport under the sun. I ran, played baseball, football, soccer, hockey, martial arts, boxing, you name it. But I was small back then, thin weak and pathetic. My father hated that. Maybe he was seeing his disappointment about his life in me, but whatever it was, I took the brunt of it. I was abused whenever I failed at a task. If I didn’t hit the ball hard enough or run fast enough or beat my opponent, I was beaten at home or just yelled at. My mother just watched it all but didn’t do anything about it. I guess she was disappointed in me also. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stole my old man’s savings and ran. I found this guy selling this old hog, and I bought it. I hit the road and never looked back. I rode all across the country, never even thinking about the next day. If I needed money, I found some menial task that needed doing. I was a decent fighter, so that gave me money a lot, but I had no qualms about doing any hard work. Whatever you needed I would do. That’s how I lived my life for years. I didn’t even think there was another way to live until I met him. He was in this bar I was stopping by. I just got finished fighting for some cash with this biker gang and they invited me out to this place. Nice bunch of guys, real friendly and hardcore. Fucking huge too, the smallest one of them towered over me by almost a full foot. Although that’s not saying much, seeing as how I was 5’6’’ on a good day and maybe a wiry 150 lbs. Maybe that’s why I impressed them so much. I fought like a wild animal because I had to. So, we get to this bar and it’s damn hot. Everyone’s sweating like pigs and we order some cool brews. I’m looking around and there’s no one near my size. Everyone is huge compared to me, sitting in their sweat drenched shirts. I enjoyed seeing muscle in action, but I wasn’t gay. I just envied the huge guys. In truth, I wanted to be huge so I could really show my father who was in charge, but eventually I forgot all about vengeance. I desired the massive power and respect those guys had. I had to fight hard for mine while theirs came with the right glance. Now, I didn’t hate them at all for that though, it was more of envy between friends. Then I saw him. I didn’t know who he was, but he looked like a biker. Except he was titanic, bigger than anyone I’ve ever seen or would see. He was looking at me with a pair of inviting eyes. I stared at him for a few moments, taking all of him into my memory. He looked tall, even when sitting, and wide enough to take up two seats at the bar. His face was gruff and stern, with a 5’o clock shadow that would make any man proud. His neck bulged with veins as he knocked back a mug of beer. My eyes naturally led down to his arms which were just freaking amazing. I doubt I could fit both of my hands around his guns, no cannons. They were veiny, just like the rest of him, and looked like they could curl anything in the place without a struggle. He wore no shirt so I could see the shelf that was his chest. His massive pecs were covered in a large amount of hair and moved in and out as he breathed. He twisted slightly and I could see his massive lats and his abs ripple with supremacy. He smiled at me then flexed one of his massive arms. The veins jumped to attention and squirmed violently and I gave an approving ‘thumbs up’. He beckoned me to come over to drink with him and I humbly accepted. I sat down a few chairs away from him, not wanting to impose on his space and set down my brew. “’Sup little man,” he said with a voice that echoed in my head. This guy was like the manliest man I’ve ever met. “Nothing much bro. Tell me man, how in the hell did you get so huge?” I asked. “You like this muscle do you?” He flexed his huge gun and his massive pecs a few times as I respond, “Hell yeah man, I’ve always wanted to be huge.” “I know John.” I froze. “How in the hell did this man know my name?” I immediately stood up and started to back away, but my feet stopped moving. The massive man stood up, towering over me and I began to panic. I looked around the bar and it had seemed time had stopped for everyone. The pool balls on the table had stopped in mid-collision, the wild cheering of the other guys at the ball game, even the beer tap had all seemed to be frozen. I screamed at the giant, “What the fuck is going on!” He grinned at me and clapped his hands. Everything went black for a brief moment, then I found myself in an office type area. He was sitting behind a huge desk and I was in a comfortable chair. “I’d like you to watch something John. Just a little intro to what I’m about to tell you.” He turned on this TV near me and began to comment. “My name is Kaos,” he said as this anime music played. “I am an avatar of Chaos and I’m here to spice up things around here. Wait, here’s the part I want you to hear.” I listened to the TV as this kid’s voice said, “Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.” I looked back at the giant man with a look of confusion on my face. “We don’t know how the creator of this series got the idea for that law, but it’s highly accurate. Hell, one of my fellow avatars might have given it to him. But basically, I’ve come to offer you a deal.” I immediately said, “Hell no, I’m not going to have no deals with you evil bastards.” He chuckles a bit and responds, “You foolish mortals and your views of Good and Evil. Don’t you understand that Order and Chaos are not bound by those simplistic rules. Order and Chaos simply exist. We are neither good, nor evil. What I’m offering you is simply a chance to change your existance. We’ve done this for many people in the past, and we’ll continue to do it for people in the future, regardless of what you choose here today.” “Allow me to explain how everything works. The law of Equivalent Exchange, as that anime so quaintly puts it, is how everything is handled. We give people what they have desired most of all, but they have to give up something of equal worth. For example,” he says as he points to the screen, “Alexander gave up a life of old age to become a great conqueror. Most of the great professional bodybuilders gave up massive IQ’s to get their huge size. Even some of the bikers you met tonight gave up some things to get to where they were. Now, I offer the same to you. I can give you this body if you’re willing to give up what you hold most dear to you.” I examined his body for a few moments. He was the perfect speciment of man, standing at a even 7 feet tall. Ever muscle was standing at full attention with him doing nothing to stimulate them. Veins snaked down his entire body as he slowly ripped away his pants.His arms seemed colossal hanging from his expansive shoulders. His chest stood barreled before me, his pecs sitting upon it sculpted marble. His forearms were huge, fitting his upper arms well. They were vascular and hair flowed down them in a perfect manner, almost as if an artist specifically designed it. The same applied to his whole torso. It was covered with a layer of hair, not thick, but very distinct. It flowed from his arms down his chest but then narrowed at his perfect abs, which then led down to his huge cock. The beast he possessed seemed to still be sleeping, but hung at least 11 inches flaccid. This was also complimented by his massive legs. They seemingly guarded his massive meat like two giant pillars. They also were completely ripped and had little to no fat on them. Everything thing about him seemed to fit and it seemed that he was a perfect example of what I truly wanted to look like. Everyone would respect me then. No one would dare give me shit about any damned thing. I looked into his eyes which seemed to know what I was about to say. I asked, “And what do I hold dearest to me? I’ll be glad to give up my intelligence for a massive body like that.” “No, you don’t hold your intellect as your greatest treasure. I’m sorry my friend, for this, you will have to abandon the freedom you’ve come to love.” I stared at him in wonder, “So you’re saying I’m going to be in prison or some shit? I can handle that if I’m that size.” “Not quite. Here is the full deal. In exchange for this perfect physique, you will be bound to a man for all of his days. He will have complete dominion over you, and you will want to succumb to his every whim. He will be nice and gentle to you, and you will be respected by everyone you meet, but your inner most desire will always be to please him first. You will have the strength to do anything you want or anything he wants, but you will never be able to break the bond between you. You will have the strength and the power, but he will control you. You will remember this deal and all the details of this life, but you also will have memories for the new life I will give you. Oh, and if you didn’t catch it, you will be totally gay for him.” “He will be the master and you will be the slave. That is the price for this.” I gazed at him in complete shock. “Is that a fair deal,” I ask myself repeatedly. I sit for what seems like an hour contemplating my past and my future right now compared to what it could be. “I’ve never given a second thought about being gay, but if I was that size, what would it matter if I was gay. No one would say shit to me. Hell, guys and gals would be all over me. Isn’t that what I’ve always wanted? To be loved and respected. Yes, that is what I want. I always wanted to be loved.” The realization of that simple fact shocks me back to Kaos and he smiles as if he knows what I was thinking. I ask him, “There are no other strings involved, is there?” “No. That is the whole deal. Nothing more, nothing less.” “Ok. I accept your terms.” “I knew you would.” He clapped his hands and immediately my body began to tremble. The first thing I felt was extreme pain. It felt like I was being stretched to my limits. My bones felt like they were about to snap and I doubled over and fell out of my chair in agony. But even through the anguish, I could feel myself growing. My bones were growing longer and thicker, and even though the pain was imaginable, I was getting kind of anxious. After a few minutes of unending torture, it came to a sudden stop. I returned to a standing position, amazed at my new height. I looked down at my body, but it was even less than what I started with. My proportions just seemed elongated and at this 7 foot height, I looked like a distant cousin of a telephone pole. Kaos smiled, obviously examining the height increase before he clapped his hands again. This time, I felt my muscles beginning to swell. This feeling was amazing, like I was working out and getting the most amazing pump man has ever imagined. I could not help but flex my various muscles and feel them as they grew. Every motion provided more sensations and I soon found my arms feeling around my engorging muscles. I ran my hands across my arms, my favorite part of the human body, and felt as power was being driven into them. They swelled like balloons being slowly inflated with air. I felt my skin tighten as veins I’ve never seen started to thicken and work their way to the surface of my skin. My body began to take a slightly darker shade and became blemish free. Veins began to pop out all over my body as my body hair dissolved into nothingness. I did a double bicep pose, feeling even more swelling take place. Hair started to regrow in the exact pattern Kaos showed me, and I felt as it swirled around like an artist’s brushstroke. I felt my balls starting to get heavier and I looked down to see what was formerly a garden snake become a huge anaconda. My pride and joy was growing faster than my body and my boys became two huge mounds of testosterone producing machines. I felt my voice becoming deeper as I continued to grow and I let out a primal bellow. Soon, I had finished growing to my new size and I allowed my hands to explore as Kaos looked over his work. My hands found all new surprises as I felt every crevice, contour and indention in my now perfect body. I felt my head, now cut short with a buzz cut, then slowly worked my way down the trail of hair that followed my arms, my chest and down to my sculpted abs and smiled. Everything was more than perfect. I was damn sexy and huge. I hefted my meat in my hands and stroked it hard with a smile on my face. The monster grew and grew as it filled with blood, extending its influence to what seemed to be two feet in length. I laughed at the whole experience; I was more man than anyone could ever dream of. I flexed and posed, feeling myself with newfound admiration. Kaos stood there while I grew accustomed to my new body before interrupting me. “And now, for the exchange.” He clapped his hands one final time and my head started to burn as if someone was driving searing needles directly into my brain. My head started to flood with images of my new life and my master. My mind shifted to an extreme love of this man who was not even half the size I was. I knew that I loved him immensely and I loved his cock in my ass. I had memories of me carrying him around on my shoulders, lifting cars for him, uprooting trees, demolishing 12 guys that looked at my master wrong and hour long posing sessions before he would reward me with a good fucking. Even though his cock hard was only as long as mine was soft, I loved every moment of his gentle and brutal ramming of my ass. Closing my eyes, I took it all in, knowing that this was to be my new life. Kaos then transported me instantly into my new life and I never saw him again. Now, flexing here on this bear rug, waiting for my master to reward me, I think back on it all. Choice. It all came down to choice. That’s all there is to life, just a series of choices. If I had to make the choice over again, knowing what I know now, would I do it? Without a doubt. This post has been promoted to an article

David had spent the last thirty-five years alone for the holidays. A combination of circumstances caused him to become a recluse during this time. First, his mother died during this month, and then his father caught him around the age of 18 jerking off to bodybuilder magazines. His father, a former collegiate ballplayer, was never really proud of his son, a thin geek. After his mother died, he started to treat him like he was worth even less, and the possibility that his son might be a “gay queer” was the last straw. Two weeks before Christmas, one year after his mother died, his father kicked him out of the house saying he never wanted to see or have anything to do with him again. So, it’s easy to see why David always spent the holidays alone. He hasn’t come out of the closet to anyone because he’s still scarred by the incident with his father. He’s tried dating women, but they just don’t satisfy his needs. He could never keep a relationship long. He would try to please them sexually, but his small 3’’ pencil dick wouldn’t hold their attention too long, and he was still too geeky to engage in conversation about mundane topics. A few years back, David resorted to drinking. He found that he could find some relief at the bottom of a bottle. But every time he would see a bodybuilder magazine in the grocery store, his cock would stir a bit, and he’d get depressed once again. This time of year made him drink even more, and years of abuse gave him a hefty beer gut. Soft and flabby, it only got bigger each year as David fell more and more into self-loathing. It was a week before Christmas and David sat in his below average apartment. Just getting back from his annoying job, he sat at the computer with a bottle of Amstel Light. Turning on his comp, he opened his e-mails. Filtering through the normal spam, he saw something that caught his eye. It was titled “Holidays got you down” and it was sent from “Your Personal Santa.” Snickering at the e-mail, he deleted it. Then he went to his explorer. His favorites were in as much disarray as his current life. Half of the links were to heterosexual porn; the other was to gay muscle. He surfed first to the lesbian porn, willing his shaft hard. He stroked it back and forth, trying to reaffirm himself that he was normal. He continued this charade for about 10 minutes before his cock went soft. Taking a giant swig of his Amstel, he looked around his empty apartment. Sighing with frustration, he surfed over to one of his most viewed muscle sites. This site was full of images of massive bodybuilders and their huge cocks, fucking smaller bodybuilders in various positions. His cock immediately sprung to life and David sighed. “I’m not gay. I just want to have that kinda muscle,” he lied to himself. He subconsciously reached for his throbbing meat and made contact, sending waves of pleasure pulsating through his body. He jerked his hand away and closed the window. “Stupid gay fuckers,” he shouted to no one in particular. He went to shut down his computer when he noticed a new e-mail. It looked almost exactly like one he deleted earlier that caught his eye, but this was slightly different. It said “Holidays got you down David?” He was unsure how his name was in the e-mail. He never used his real name online and his coworkers didn’t care enough to ask. His curiosity got the better of him and he opened the e-mail to see a red and green text message. It simply said, “Be true to yourself.” He snarled and tossed his bottle against the wall. Jerking the power supply out, he laid on the couch. Mumbling words of hatred, he fell from his drunken stupor into a deep slumber. He tossed and turned for a few moments before he started to dream. He dreamt of a Santa figure. He knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t wake himself or control anything in the dream. Santa walked up to him and said in a booming voice, “Hello David. I know you know that this is a dream, but what happens here can change your life forever.” Santa walked closer and David could see that the Santa towered over his 5’5’’ frame. He looked very festive in his red suit just like he thought Santa would look, minus the hulking 6’5’’ frame. Santa pointed his hand off to his left and materialized a woman, beautiful by any standards. She stood naked as the day she was born and had a body that would make most men cum on the spot. She stood 5’5’’, exact same height as David. Her skin was soft and silky and her breasts stood firm and young. Her hair was long and flowing in a breeze he could not feel and her face was that of a goddess. Her smile was brilliant, able to light up a dark room and her eyes glistened with wonder and femalely love. She was tapered in the hourglass type body style, and her buttocks were supple and perfect. She walked up to David and draped her hands around his neck, pressing her body against his. David kissed her gently and she returned it with all the passion she possessed. David rubbed his hands through her hair as she rubbed her body against his. After a few moments, she broke the kiss and looked gently into his eyes. David looked back into them, seeing nothing but pure intentions, and then he looked down at himself, seeing his cock painfully soft. He turned to Santa and said, “She’s perfect, just not for me.” The woman smiled and dissolved into mist. David’s sleeping body tossed and turned then tumbled to the floor, but his sleep was undisturbed. In his dream, Santa resumed talking to David. “So David, if that perfection of feminine beauty wasn’t what you wanted, what is?” David looked up at Santa and said, “I don’t know. I’ve just never been happy.” He looked down at his naked body. “David,” Santa said. David looked back at Santa’s face. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” Santa did a most muscular pose, bursting out of the coat he had on to, causing it to fall to the floor in shreds. David’s jaw dropped as his eyes ran over Santa’s body. Santa had a physique that would rival most bodybuilders. Under the layer of warm fabric hid a bounty of muscle. His arms were giant snakes and his pecs were slabs of rock sitting on his meaty chest. He had the most amazing roid gut and abs that look carved from stone. His chest was manly, covered in white hair leading down to his abs and into his pants. Santa did a squat motion, causing his calves and quads to flex and burst free from their constraints. That simple motion made the veins in his thick legs come to attention and throb, sending life-giving blood to every fiber of his massive muscles. Santa grabbed the waistband of his once fluffy pants and ripped them outward, causing them to fall in tattered pieces. Beneath the pants was an extra large jockstrap, overstuffed beyond what David could possibly imagine. Santa shook then flexed each leg, causing the muscles to dance and shake. He then tugged on the jock, stretching it to slide over his mammoth quads. After getting them sufficiently low enough, he released them, allowing them to fall to the floor and his anaconda-like penis to flop out. It hung low; almost reaching his knees with a backdrop of grapefruit sized balls resting against huge ripped muscle. Sprinkled around his crotch was the same white hair that was on his chest. David’s cock sprung to attention as Santa flexed a few more times, increasing the pump to his muscles. David’s cock was leaking pre all over his floor where he slept and he thrashed about a little more as his dream continued. Santa flexed and turned while David stood rigid, his cock harder than it ever has been. “So David, is this what you’ve wanted?” Santa asked. David frantically looked around his dreamscape and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want?” David dropped to his knees before Santa. Santa leaned in and whispered, “Be true to yourself.” David looked up with tears flowing from his eyes at the gentle sculpted face of Santa. He reached up and grabbed his thick wrestler-like neck and said, “I’m gay Santa. I’m really gay.” David embraced Santa and gave him the most passionate kiss he’s ever given, man or woman. In his apartment, it looked as if he was kissing the floor where he laid, but other changes were happening. His messy apartment was slowly morphing into a clean room. The trash that was lying around vanished and his ratty couch disappeared. Glass shards from his shattered beer bottle floated up and created windows. His room was slowly changing, the walls going from dirty brown to a clean white. All his furniture faded from view, and after the apartment was emptied of trash and other items, leaving a sleeping David in the middle of an empty room, the building began to morph. It changed from a 5 story building in the middle of a bustling city to a 2 story ranch house in a typical suburb. David rolled over in the middle of his empty floor and his dream continued. Santa stood up while David continued to kiss him. He used his powerful tongue to explore David’s mouth while David rubbed the back of his neck. Santa then stopped the kiss and pulled David away, holding him in mid air, feeling no strain on his powerful arms. David looked at Santa with disappointment in his eyes when Santa said, “This would be easier if you were taller, wouldn’t it.” As soon as he said that, David’s body seemed to stretch towards the floor until he was the height that Santa could release him and still look him in the eyes. David smiled and went back to his embrace with the big man. In David’s new house, other changes were being played out in real time. His body floated above the floor and a beautiful King sized bed materialized beneath him. He seemed to stretch in mid air, twisting and turning and extending as Santa made him grow in his dream. Soon, he was 6’6’’ and he floated down until his back was laid comfortably on the new bed. Santa ran his fingers through David’s balding head and said, “Let’s do something about this.” He ran his palm over the receding hairline and slowly growth returned to the area. David then ran his fingers about his head and smiled. Santa asked David, “What color hair do you like the most?” David responded, “Jet Black. I always thought it looked manlier than my dirty blond.” Santa turned David around and showed him a mirror. David looked into the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see his head now fully covered with a layer of black hair and he was no longer balding. Santa stood behind him like a backdrop of muscle and said, “I think you would look good with a nice beard.” Instantly hair sprouted along David’s face, swiftly thickening into a luxurious beard. David reached up and touched his face, feeling the coarse softness of his new beard and smiled. Santa continued, “But what is a manly face without the body fur to go with it.” Santa positioned himself closer and ran his fingers on an outline around David’s chest and abs and in the area he outlined, thick hair sprouted and filled in. “And of course, we need to do something about this beer gut,” Santa said. Santa applied one firm hand and pushed David’s stomach in, molding it like clay until it was a flat surface. “In fact, why don’t we just change your whole look? I think you would be nice if we put some muscle on you. You wanna look like me?” David smiled and nodded yes, he knew it was always his dream to be a hulking monster of a muscle man, and since this was a dream, he could indulge himself. Unbeknownst to David, his body was laid spread eagle on his new bed, completely nude. As Santa was shaping David in his dream, David’s body did the same outside it. Already the hair had grown and changed color and his stomach disappeared. Then what followed was his body flexing and relaxing as if it were working out. Each muscle tensed, grew and stretched the skin to where the veins pulsed and threatened to rip through the flesh. In his dream David inflated at flexed in the mirror, looking more and more like the big man behind him. Santa smiled and said, “Now, just a few more things.” David took his eyes off his growing muscles long enough to turn around and see Santa’s huge tool swelling with blood. David was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of him was still fighting to hold on to the illusion that he wasn’t gay, the other part wanted to stop the charade and give in to his urges. David’s eyes were locked on to the awakening beast and his mind was raging in conflict with each other. When Santa’s cock became full mast, pointing slightly upward towards his rippled chest, David made a decision. “I’m tired of playing this game Santa. I’m tired of not enjoying the company of others because I’m afraid of what they might think. I’m tired of coming home every night and fighting against what I really want. I’m tired of being alone and I’m tired of my bastard of a father still having a hold on me after all these years,” David proclaimed. David dropped down to his knees and took hold of Santa’s massive cock, his small penis throbbing in pleasurable pain. He took a deep breath and began to suck Santa off as well as he could. Santa smiled and rubbed David’s head, “Are you happy now David?” “Yes Santa.” David mumbled in his sleep. His body had finished growing and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre over himself as he worked Santa in his dream. Santa allowed David to enthrall himself on his tool before he stopped David’s service. Santa stood David up and turned him around. Bending him over, Santa grabbed David’s waist and leaned in, whispering in his ear, “Are you ready to change your life forever?” David knew what was coming, but he didn’t care. “Santa, I trust you. I want my life to be different.” Santa smiled and slowly grabbed his shaft, guiding the swollen head toward David’s virgin ass. David moaned and grunted in his bed, twisting and turning before smiling as he was penetrated in his dream. Santa had finished inserting his massive penis into David, not without some difficulty, but David was determined to have this pleasure he’s denied himself for so many years. Santa began to thrust in and out of David leaning over to whisper things into his ear that he couldn’t hear. The thrusts began to increase in speed and power and David began to moan. If someone was watching this, they would’ve seen David bouncing up and down on his bed due to some unknown force, but in his dream, David was receiving the first and most pleasurable fucking of his life. Santa came closer and closer to cumming and reached around and grabbed David’s penis. Tugging on it roughly, Santa stretched it to match his size and girth. Each thrust of Santa’s hips in the dream was accompanied with David’s cock growing outside of his dream. Finally, Santa exploded in David’s ass, and David exploded across his chest and bed. Santa stood David up and faced him to the mirror. David smiled as he gazed upon the reflection. Stood before him was a rugged man, everything he’s ever wanted to be. His face was bearded and tight, no fat to be found. The beard was trimmed and his head was full of hair. His shoulders were as broad as a lineman’s and his chest was chiseled and covered with a thick layer of manly fur. His arms were huge and veiny, pulsing with power that led down to his Popeye sized forearms. His abs were six bricks covered in a light layer of hair and his crotch was amazing. He gasped as he looked at his new cock and balls, as large and as beautiful as Santa’s, surrounded by a tangle of black hair. David hefted his new tool and fondled it gently before letting it drop with a thwack on his power tree-trunk legs. David took the whole image in and sighed with love. Santa rubbed David’s head once more and David grabbed him in a giant hug. Santa returned the favor and whispered, “Ok David. It’s time for you to wake up.” David looked back shocked at Santa, “Please no! I don’t want to leave you or this behind.” “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright,” Santa said as David’s dreamscape began to fade. David started to wake up, almost about to cry when he noticed something was wrong. He remembered falling asleep on his couch, but now he was in a bed that he’s never felt before. He also felt something grinding on his crotch and his cock up someone’s ass. He opened his eyes to see the back of some guy’s head. He looked down to see his meat shoved firmly up this young bubble butt. He started to get hard and his partner began to wake. “Mmmmm, I love when you wake me up like that husbear” a voice whispered. David quickly got out of bed (and the ass) and got up. Looking around frantically, he saw what looked like a bathroom and ran in. He gazed at the mirror and saw what wasn’t him when he went to bed. He reached up and touched his face and instantly the dream flooded back into his head, along with memories of a new life. This wasn’t David. This was Mitch. He was a semi-pro bodybuilder and lawyer for Gay Rights. He had a loving family who he came out to many years ago and stood behind him. He also had a cub that he was with for five years now. Conflicting thoughts of David and Mitch flowed through his head. He splashed his face with some water, trying to discern the truth when he heard a familiar voice from the other room. “Mitch, are you alright? You never leave me with an unsore ass in the morning.” Dave/Mitch’s cock began to thicken and he ran his hands across his body. This is what he’s always wanted: A caring and understanding family, a good career and most importantly, a love of his life. Memories of Dave faded into non-existence and he stood tall and proud, like Mitch always does. He opened the door to the bathroom seeing his mate Gary lying on the bed. “Grrrrr. Everything’s just fine cub, except one thing.” “Oh really? What’s wrong?” Gary responded with concern in his voice. Mitch smiled and growled, “Your ass isn’t sore yet cub.” And with that, Mitch pounced on the bed. This post has been promoted to an article

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain,something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one,and only, truth.— Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist Another night, another dozen rejections. I swear, I just don't understand people these days. These big guys online say that they want worshipers, but they don't ever respond to a guy like me. It's just another sad night here at home. For the last few years, I've been looking for some one to get together with. I'm not picky at all. I just want a big muscular manly man to have some fun with and maybe some more. But sadly, no matter what the site, I just keep getting rejected, or worse, ignored. I still can't understand why people would be like that. If I were that huge, I would love to be able to share with people. If only I hadn't spent my time working and making a living. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I think I would've been a lot happier if I had stuck to weightlifting out of college instead of spending fifteen years on my ass behind a desk. I checked my e-mail one more time to see if anyone of the muscle bear group responded to my invitation. While I may be rich, I don't want to have someone that just wants me for my money. I want someone who wants me for me. Unfortunately, that seems to be no one. Seeing my empty mailbox again just depresses me further. I shut down my computer and get ready for bed, 9:00 pm on Friday. God, this is so sad. My king sized bed just goes to further reinforce how alone I am. I bought it with hopes that it would be filled with big beef, but that has yet to happen. I clap and the room plunges into darkness, and soon, I am sound asleep. Tonight, unlike most nights, I dream. It started with me flying along. I could look down and see green fields and crystal blue lakes along the landscape. I flew along slowly, enjoying the peace and serenity of the area. Then, along the horizon, I saw a huge mirror. I glided towards it and gently landed in front of it. The image reflected in it was obviously me. Naked, but it was me. That, more than anything else was depressing. I could see how out of shape I was. I looked horrible. I was short all my life, but at least when I was a kid, I was decently proportioned. But now, I was fat enough to make two overweight guys. The parts of me that I wanted huge like my arms and legs were sticks, and the parts of me that were big I wanted leaner. And seeing my penis almost made me cry. It was one step away from not being there. It was just a nub, no bigger than my thumb. Sadly, I muttered that I wish I were less fat. Then the most amazing thing happened. The reflection began to become leaner. I stood there dumbfounded as I watched the fat melt away until my mirror image became a lean, lithe man. This excited me beyond belief. Then I remembered that I was dreaming so stuff like this should have been expected. I then wished to be taller. The reflection began to rise slowly as I encouraged it to go faster. My image rose higher and higher until it stopped around six and a half feet. Saliva started to drip from the corners of my mouth as I wished to be massively musclebound. The mirror began to expand. Slowly at first, the neck began to thicken. It turned from a skinny stick into a huge mass of muscle that no shirt collar could hope to contain. Then the shoulders began to widen with muscles. They grew up and out, expanding till they looked like a pair of shoulder pads beneath the skin and his traps were up near his ears. Next was his lats. At first, they were non-existent. Then suddenly, they exploded from his back. They unfolded out and out and out until they looked like a pair of wings, forcing his arms to rest at an angle away from his body. Then his arms started to blow up. They pulsed with my heartbeat, each time swelling with size and mass. Finally, they stopped growing, not before they blew my mind with their awe-inspiring size. My attention was drawn to his stomach which started to look like someone was baking bread in his abs. One by one, eight perfect bricks inflated from what was a flat slate followed by a perfect pair of obliques. Even from a distance, someone could tell that they were solid as armor plating. Finally, his legs started to grow. They began to swell with muscles. I watched as his quads and calves grew until his legs were almost bigger than I was. I drunk in the absolute beauty of the man that stood before me. He was bigger than any bodybuilder I've ever seen. He could make people like Markus Ruhl and Mariusz Pudzianowski look small and weak. But I thought a few things needed to be added. I wished aloud that he was more bearish. Hair started to sprout, first from his chest, growing out from his pecs, up to his neck, down his arms. A treasure trail formed afterwards, leading down towards his crotch. His legs then exploded with a fine but noticeable layer of the same beautiful hair. Then the hair on his forearms and upper chest thickened until only the striation of his muscle could be seen through the layer of man-fur. He was almost perfect, but the reflection still had my pathetic penis. I fixated my eyes on that part of his body and said with a loud voice my desire for his penis to become huge. Out of the corner of my eye, I could've sworn the image in the mirror smiled as the growth started. Slowly, almost teasingly, his cock began to swell. It was gradual at first, but as my heart began to speed up, the growth began to double. Each pulse of his organ grew it larger and larger. As it got up to around six inches and I thought the growth would slow down, it exploded with new size. It jumped up from six to at least twelve and continued to swell. It started to point upward towards the sky. It continued to grow up and out as I watched in awe. Finally, it slowed to a stop. I was amazed at how huge it was even on a massive man his size. If my arms were as big as his cock, I would've been happy. It had to be close to fifteen inches long and nine or ten inches around. It was so beautiful, it made me want to cry. I wished aloud how I wanted that image to me. Then, off to the side, I heard a voice whisper, "What would you give to look like that?" "Anything short of my soul would be worth it if I could have that body." "Then we have a deal. Step forward and take hold of your destiny." I stood there slightly confused for a moment. But then I realized that this was still a dream so of course I could have this body. I walked forward as the imaged stretched out his arms to me. I reached the mirror and took hold of him and... The alarm jarred me from my sleep. I turned and slowly pried my eyes open. On the stand was a clock blaring at me. I instinctively slammed the snooze button and rolled over before realizing that I haven't owned an alarm clock for years, ever since I was promoted to Vice-President of Operations. Wait, that can't be right. I work at the gym. I got that job after I barely graduated high school a couple of years ago. It was a great job because I could work out for free when I wasn't working. It went a long way to help me build my body. No no, I graduated from college with honors. I majored in accounting and went to climb the corporate ladder and... That can't be right, I can barely figure out how much I need to save to buy supplements. I got out of bed and looked around the room. "Didn't I have a different bed than this? No, I remember buying this bed. It was sturdy enough to not collapse under my 360 lb mass. But didn't I have some fancy king size bed?" I wandered around my apartment for a little bit, feeling that something was wrong but I couldn't put my finger on it. Everything was normal. The bench and my 130 lb dumbbells were there, sitting in front of the camera where I did my web shows. My protein shake was already blended and breakfast was made by one of my worshipers. Last night he got everything ready after he worshiped my huge muscles. He loved watching me curl those dumbbells he could barely roll across the floor. I even let him suck my cock and watch me sleep. A beep from my computer reminded me that I had a web cam show today. After the show, I would need to head to the gym and put in my shift. While I could've lived off of all my worshipers, I preferred to just use them to supplement my income. I'm sure they got as much out of it as I did. I loved flexing and being admired by anyone and everyone. Shaking the stray thoughts from my mind, I sat down at the computer, turned on my web cam and grabbed the bottle of oil. It was great being me. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Kaos placed his feet up on the table as he laughed softly. He waved his hand and the spectral mirror showing his newest subject faded. Gleaming a bright grin, he chuckled to no one in particular, "Damn, I'm good." This post has been promoted to an article

“I don’t want that piece of junk!” “It’s tradition that the closest male relative receives the inheritance. Would you deny your inheritance?” “What good is it if I can’t spend it? What am I going to do with a bunch of beads and feathers?” “Your father and grandfather would be so disappointed in you. Would you have all our ways be forgotten?” “This is why I don’t come here anymore! Every time it’s the same thing. Tradition this and heritage that and responsibly blah blah blah. I told you when I left 20 years ago that I didn’t care about the spirits or the buffalo or any of that. The world is different now. All of you guys need to get with the century. If you don’t have money and position, you’re just going to get ran over. I don’t even know why I came here. I knew I should’ve just ignored that letter.” Sam turned to leave but was stopped by the elderly lady holding a headdress. “You can’t leave before your grandfather has been given the rite of death and ascension. You shouldn’t leave until after sundown!” Sam shrugged her hand from his shoulder, “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t care anymore about tradition and I don’t care if he died. I’m going back to L.A. and if I ever see this reservation again it’ll be too soon!” With that, Sam Smith, as he called himself now after long abandoning his birth name, stormed out of the tent. He muttered to himself in anger the whole time he stamped to his car, glaring angrily at the onlookers. He hated every moment he was here. He never liked growing up on the reservation and was so happy when he finally got old enough to leave. Sam got in his car and slammed the door. He thought again, “Why in the hell did I even come?” He cranked up the car and sped down the dusty hill, vowing to never come back to the reservation he left so long ago. Driving around 80 miles an hour under the hot New Mexico sun wasn’t the greatest idea Sam had ever had. His anger was preventing him from thinking clearly and it wasn’t until he saw smoke rising from his engine did he realize his mistake. He pulled over to the side of the road and slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “Fucking shit, this is all the hell I need!” he screamed as he got out. He popped his hood and was immediately blinded by the amount of smoke and steam that rose from the engine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he yelled at the overheated car. “This is just fucking great.” He walked to his trunk and opened it, hoping to find something that could help. Sadly, he had no coolant or water in his trunk. He walked around to the backseat of his new Lexus, cursing under his breath the whole time. He looked in to see the bottle of soda he had bought in town empty and uttered a final ‘fuck’ at his situation. He looked around. He knew the reservation was about twenty miles from where he broke down, but what was worse was the closest town was still forty miles away. “Fuck!” he screamed once again, “I gotta go back to that fucking reservation to get help.” He pounded his fist on his expensive car, cursing his luck. He knew that twenty miles was way out of his limit to walk. He knew how harsh the desert was from his youth, and when he was young, he was fit enough to handle periods of time without supplies. Now he was going on forty-six years old and hadn’t even thought about exercise in twenty years. He knew that he would probably die if he tried to walk that distance without any water. So instead, he looked for shelter. He turned a few times, glancing at the horizon before spotting what looked like a hill through the haze. “A hill out here might have a cave, at the very least, there’ll be some shade. I can just go there, wait till the sun goes down and come back and catch the people coming from the reservation. I won’t have to go back and see that damn place again,” he said to himself in triumph. After placing a red flag on the car’s antenna, he started out on his walk. The flag was for naught though as after he was about 500 yards away, the car simply vanished, turned into the same sand that lined the desert floor. The hill was farther away than it first appeared, but after fifteen minutes of walking under the hot New Mexico sun, he started to see it clearly. He could tell there was a hole at the base of it and that got him even more excited. He knew that the area had some underground caves and rivers around. That’s why his people had settled here, so it was even possible that he could find some water. That was one good thing about growing up here, the water was better than most of the stuff he could buy in L.A. Ten minutes later, his clothes completely drenched in sweat, he arrived at the hill. It was a big mound of earth that rose up against the flat landscape that surrounded it. There was a few cacti around the area, but nothing that gave good shade. He was about to curse again when he saw out the corner of his eye an indention in the side of the hill. He walked over and peered down to see a hole, slightly bigger than he was going down into the base of the mound. He could feel a cool breeze coming up from it and he practically jumped at his luck. It took a little effort, but he squeezed into the hole. It was a slight fall, around six feet, and he landed face first in a pile of dust. He got up slowly, grateful that he didn’t break anything and started dusting himself off. But as soon as he started to shake his clothes, he was overcome with a feeling similar to bugs crawling over him. He started to dance and rip his clothes off, starting with his shirt, then his pants, underwear, shoes and socks. He threw them on the ground and stumbled back deeper in the cave. If he would have looked back in the dim light of the cave, he would’ve seen two things. One, there were no bugs at all in the cave. In fact, there wasn’t a single living thing in the area besides him. Two, he would’ve saw his clothes, just like his car, slowly turn to dust and vanish from existence. Sam could feel the cave slope down gradually as he walked. Thankfully, there were pinholes as he walked letting light in from the surface. He could only assume that he was walking a few feet below the desert floor. He could feel the temperature drop slowly as he walked and soon, he could hear the sounds of dripping water. He picked up his pace, stumbling naked through the mysterious cave when he finally came upon what seemed to be an ancient stalactite. He saw that there was a steady stream of water slowly dripping from it, landing on the floor, then running downward deeper into the cave. He rejoiced at his luck again and cupped his hands under the flow. What Sam didn’t realize was, as he quenched his tremendous thirst, his memories were flowing away from him like the river that was between his toes. He was too enthralled with the cool and soothing sensation of the liquid hitting his tongue to worry about anything else. Finally, when he had had his fill, he looked up and around. “What am I doing here again?” he said. It should have shocked him that he couldn’t remember, but he simply felt a sense of calm, confused, but calm. He turned and saw a light shimmer of heat before a pool materialize before him. The water was bubbling from an underground vent and it looked so enticing to Sam. He looked down at himself and saw how dirty his body was. “I must’ve come here for a bath,” he said to no one in particular. He gingerly stepped in the pool, wincing slightly at the sudden temperature change. Slowly, he lowered himself into the natural spa, sighing with relief as more of his body became immersed in the balmy water. Finally, his feet hit bottom, leaving just his chin above the surface. Sam became so completely relaxed as he stood in the pool. He closed his eyes and simply rested in the water. But as he did, he never noticed the changes that were happening. When he stepped in the pool, he was a stereotypical fat cat. Years of working in a law firm, spending twelve hour days wheeling and dealing had left his body a complete disaster. He had a huge stomach from all the huge meals he had with clients, cellulite covered his entire body and his chin gave new meaning to the phrase, “turkey neck”. He long had stopped caring what shape he was in, money could fix that when he hit his mid life crisis. But, as he stood in the water, years of unhealthy living seemed to melt from his body. It looked like the water was boiling away the fat on his body. Sam didn’t feel anything different happening to him as he stood there, but his body was going through several changes. Finally, he knelt down and dunked his head under for a few moments to clean the dust off his face. When he stood back up, his face had completely transformed. Now, instead of the bald, pale man that went under, there stood a man that face was lean and angular, skin bronzed from many days under the sun and long flowing black hair that floated on the surface half a foot from his head. He stood up, not noticing the added height from when he went in. “Ahhh, this water feels great. But wasn’t I supposed to be doing something?” He saw a shimmer out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a few feet from where he stood an elegant headdress and chest piece made out of beads and eagle feathers. He got out of the pool and walked over to the jewelry lying on the ground. Bending down a lot further than he would have had to a few moments ago, he gently picked up the mysterious item. He rolled it around in his hands for a few moments, thinking how familiar it was, yet so foreign. His eyes fixated on a red bead. The ambient light reflected and refracted off of what seemed to be an infinite number of facets in the jewel. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, slowly rotating it around, peering into its depths like it was a kaleidoscope. As he was mesmerized by the jewel, his body began to go another transformation. His frame, which was slender and taller compared to his old one, slowly began to expand. But instead of fat, it swelled with sinewy muscle. It started from the ground with his feet. He had small feet all his life, but now they seemed to pulse. Each moment was filled with expansion of his former feet, swelling from the small size 7 he had until they were giant feet, swollen with muscle that threatened to explode from even size 16 EEEE shoes. Then the growth progressed upwards. His calves started to become warm, but he was so enthralled with the jewel, he didn’t feel any discomfort. The calves began to bulge outward, flexing and growing into a mound of muscle that would’ve made anyone proud. They split and grew until his lower legs were two beautifully sculpted diamonds of power. Then his thighs began to experience the same growth. They ballooned outward as if someone was forcing pounds of air through them. But a glance would tell you that these legs were not filled with air, but instead thick striated muscle. They swole to such a size that he was unconsciously forced to adjust his stance. That growth eventually made its way to his cock. Sam had never had anything to be proud of in that department, but the meat that was growing at his crotch now would’ve made a mule proud. It grew thicker and longer in time with his steady heart beat, pulsing with size and power until it was as long as a ruler and thicker than his wrists. His torso began to change next, first with the slimming of his waist and the expansion of his abs. From an outside perspective, it looked like the skin was drawing itself closer and closer to the muscle until it seemed like there was no skin, only six perfectly formed bricks of muscles guarded by two impressive obliques. Then, his chest and back began to expand. It seemed as if with each deep breath he took, his chest and back filled with air, but didn’t recede any when he exhaled. The growth continued to fill with muscle until his chest was as big as a barrel around with pecs that looked as big as a person’s head and a back that looked like he could fly without any trouble. His arms followed soon after, slowly filling with the same thick dense muscle that filled his legs. He didn’t even notice that his hands and arms were getting bigger as the jewel glinted in his eyes. His hands grew to a size that could easily palm a basketball and his forearms were so bloated with muscle, they looked like they could twist off the stone stalactites that adorned the cave. His biceps inflated to the size of a football on his arms and his triceps soon grew to the size of a smoked ham. His shoulders and neck grew right after that as the warm feeling traveled up his body. His shoulders became huge mounds of muscle and his neck quickly thickened to a column of unmovable mass. Finally, his face began to change. It loss most of its age and weariness to reveal a youthful look, yet his eyes exposed the wisdom of a man twice his new age. A light layer of hair began to cover his entire body except his back. It was his back that experienced the final changes. The sleek and muscular back of this young Native American was completely hairless when it started. The muscles began to flex outward, displaying its power for an unseen audience. Then, lines began to form on his skin. The first image that appeared was that of a crescent moon on his left shoulder blade. It was light blue and white, the same color as what could be seen on a clear night in the New Mexico skies. Then, along his collar bone along to his right shoulder, a few depictions of clouds appeared. Then, starting from his lower back, lines began to fill in between the numerous indentions in his huge back. Slowly, the image of a mountain cliff was visible, perfectly formed to work in conjunction with his natural muscularity. As he moved, the mountain range seemed to shift and morph with each contraction and relaxation of muscle. The coloring even seemed to blend in flawlessly with his natural bronze skin. Finally, on top of that new cliff side, making up the majority of his back, the image of a coyote began to appear. Outlined by black, the animal slowly formed on the landscape of his new muscle. It stood proudly as the centerpiece of the artwork, howling at the crescent moon that adorned his shoulder. Then, a light layer of short grey hair sprouted from his back, filling in only where the image of the coyote was. He finally snapped out of his trance when the growth was complete. He thought and said nothing, but simply put on the chest piece and headdress. He adjusted it with the skill that could only be learned with years of practice. The chest piece stood boldly against his new muscles. It felt comfortable there, as if it were there for years. No shirt would ever be able to contain the mass of muscle that was under the beaded item. He looked around the cave once again and his eyes fell on a pair tanned leather shorts. Obviously, they were designed specifically for him because the waist was so slim, yet the leg holes were exceptionally big, befitting a man of his superior size and equipment. He slipped them on and looked up, “By the spirits, I’m going to be late!” In a few moments, he was outside the hill again. By this time, the sun was approaching the horizon and he lamented his forgetfulness. “I should not have taken so much time purifying myself for the rite!” He turned towards the reservation and began to sprint, his powerful legs indenting the ground as his huge bulk moved across the desert like a cheetah. So focused on the run before him, he didn’t notice the hill behind him fading into nothingness and the desert returning like nothing was ever there. Around fifteen minutes later, he ran into the front of the reservation. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the run under the clear dusk sky, but he wasn’t exhausted at all. He was greeted at the entrance by three of the tribe’s braves. “Halt! We are not having any visitors today! You must turn back.” He stood before them, towering over the short, but fit guards. “I am Coyote Rock, son of Soaring Eagle. I have come to pay my respects to Falling Wind.” The braves stood there dumbfounded. One immediately ran up the hill and informed the chief and the great grandmother of the situation, and a few moments later, they walked down the hill. Seeing the majestic movements of the elders, Coyote Rock immediately bowed his head in reverence. The chief whispered something in the ear of the brave, and he stood down. The chief motioned for Coyote Rock to follow them. He was led to the top of the hill where the funeral pyre was being set up. Already, the tribe had started gathering for the rite of death. The chief turned to great-grandmother and her aides, then to Coyote Rock. “The braves told me that you said you are the son of Soaring Eagle. I am sure that Soaring Eagle had but one son.” “I know. I am he, son of Soaring Eagle and grandson of Falling Wind,” he said with a deep voice that cut through the silence. Before the chief could protest, the sound of thunder echoed across the village. Everyone looked up at the cloudless sky in confusion. Then suddenly, a few amazing things happened. Great-Grandmother, who was holding the headdress of Falling Wind, noticed the same exact headdress on the man who called himself Coyote Rock. Then, the headdress she was holding slowly dissolved into dust and scattered to the gentle breeze that ran through the village. Then, everyone’s eyes except Coyote Rock’s were drawn to him. A slight flicker engulfed his torso. Then, a paw print like that of a wild coyote appeared on his right hip. Then, another one, and another one until it looked like an animal walked from his hip, up his abs and across his left pec muscle. Finally, the sound of a coyote’s howl resonated throughout the reservation. All the people there stood in awe as Coyote Rock looked at the sky. Great-Grandmother simply smiled. She stepped forward, wiping the remains of the dust off her hands and said, “Young coyote, will you accept your inheritance and become our new shaman?” The chief looked at her in shock, then realization as Coyote said, “Yes, of course Grandmother. I will do all that I can to serve the tribe as my grandfather did before me.” “This is a good thing,” she said loud enough for the tribe gathered there to hear. “Then, young coyote, would you lead us in the Dirge of Sorrow?” Coyote Rock bowed his head solemnly and walked towards the pyre. Saying a quiet thanks before starting, he lifted up his head. With a low voice that trembled through everyone, he started to sing the song. His deep voice echoed though the hearts and minds of all the people, and soon, the hilltop was filled with the song of the tribe. A few weeks later, a pair state troopers came to the reservation. They were greeted by Coyote Rock. “Hello sir, we’re looking for a missing person, Sam Smith. His last known destination was supposedly this reservation. He had said he was going to the funeral of his grandfather.” Coyote Rock simply looked at the police officers as a howl was heard across the land. “I am the only grandson of Falling Wind. I do not know of whom you speak.” This post has been promoted to an article

The low hum and steady beep of the machine slowly brought David back to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the harsh florescent light that hung above him. He tried to move, but every nerve in his body seemed to scream in pain. He felt some motion to his left and slowly rotated his head to see his friend Jack sitting beside him. “What happened?” David asked, his voice dry and heaving. Coach Jack quickly shut his book and leaned closer to him, “Hey bud, you scared us there. From what your students said, you just collapsed during your lecture. The doc said you had a heart attack.” David closed his eyes and silently cursed. Jack continued, “Let me go find the doc. He said he needed to talk to you when you woke up.” Jack beamed David a brilliant smile before he got up and left the room. David, on the other hand was cursing his stupidity. His physician had told him for years now that if he didn’t shape up, something like this would happen. He knew he was a diabetic, had hypertension and was morbidly obese, but he didn’t try hard enough to change his habits. Just the simple fact that every school year he had to buy all new clothes to fit his expanding waist line should have been a clue, but being the stubborn, lazy guy he was didn’t do anything to change himself. And now, he was lying in a hospital. “Stupid, stupid,” he said quietly. He wanted to kick himself if he wasn’t feeling so weak. As he waited for Jack to get back, he started to get bored, so he tried to look around the room. He could see to his left and right, but in front of him was blocked by his bloated gut. He cringed slightly at the size of it, despairing at how out of control he allowed it. It was a huge ball of fat sitting on top of him, completely blocking his view. He wanted to blame it on all the late night eating and not exercising because of his teaching job, but he knew deep down that he could have fit in some exercise if he tried and his diet had no excuse for being junk food and fast food burgers. As he was wallowing in self-loathing, he heard a creak from his right. He turned his head to see Jack closely followed by a older man in a white coat. Jack smiled as he walked back around the bed but the doctor following behind him looked a lot more solemn. “So Doc, when can David here get back to teaching?” Jack asked with jovial tone. The doctor looked down at his chart before looking at David and Jack. “Mr. Dale, I see here that you were diagnosed with Type II diabetes around five years ago and hypertension about four years. What lifestyle changes did you make?” David winced slightly as he felt Jack looking at him. “Well, you see, I was meaning to start exercising more and eating,” he started before the doctor cut him off. “I see.” He walked towards the foot of the bed and pulled out a pen. “Tell me Mr. Dale, can you feel this?” David craned his neck to try and see what the doctor was doing, but his massive belly was in the way. “No, I don’t feel anything.” The doctor mumbled to himself before saying, “And how about this?” “No, still nothing.” The doctor put the pen back in his pocket before walking around the bed. “Move your arm please,” he asked. David, slightly worried, moved his arms upward as the doctor nodded. “That is good,” the doctor said as he scribbled something on his clipboard. “Well, what’s the verdict?” Jack asked.“Well Mr. Dale, I’m sorry to tell you that you had a stroke and a heart attack. And the combination of those two events seemed to have caused some paralysis in the lower half of your body. I’m sorry, but I would advise against going back into teaching until your risk factors have been lowered by a great deal. David’s heart shattered at the doctor’s words. Teaching was all he had in life and because of stupidity on his part, he had lost not just his legs but his reason for living. “I’ll leave you alone for a while. Just press the button if you need anything.” After the doctor left, Jack stood up. David turned away slightly so Jack couldn’t see how upset he was. “Anything I can get for you?” David shook his head no and Jack continued, “Ok. I’m going to go to the cafeteria real quick and make a few phone calls.” David simply said, “Ok” and closed his eyes. He knew Jack had to call the school to get a replacement teacher for him. He listened to the door close and sat in the quiet room, close to crying. He kept saying to himself, “How could I be so stupid? All I had to do was eat better or exercise or something and this would’ve never happened. Why did I let myself get like this?” He continued to berate himself until he fell asleep from exhaustion. While he fell into a deep pit of darkness, he saw a small pinprick of light. Not knowing what else to do, he floated towards down to it. As he moved closer to the light, it grew and grew until it engulfed his entire being. He stopped moving and just hovered in a warm, bright glow. For the first time since in years, he felt like everything was right. He smiled as he wrapped himself in the intangible threads of comfort that surrounded him. Then, he heard a voice whisper beside him, “Hello David.” For some reason, David wasn’t startled. The voice was so gentle and soothing, he felt no fear or anxiety as it spoke. “I’ve been watching you for a while and while you’ve made some mistakes in your life, you have always had the best interest of others in your mind, even before your own. I’ve decided that I will give you a very, very special gift. I want you to think about your past life, and I want you to focus on a single thing you wish you could change. One moment in time that you look back at and wish you could have made a different choice.” David started to let his mind wonder, and flashing in the emptiness before him appeared scenes from his life. Everything flew by rapidly, but they all seemed to converge on one moment in the past. Finally, the images slowed down and started to replay his first few weeks in middle school. Immediately, he knew what he wanted to change. “If I could change anything, I would have not given up so easily on the weight lifting sessions after school. I liked it, but for some reason I didn’t stick with it. I wish I had the drive and determination to lift and play football instead of being so shy and scared of what people would have thought,” he said aloud. Soon as he said that, the day in question started playing before him. David saw himself lifting on the bench. He could see the smile on his face as he felt his muscles working for the first time. Then he saw the look on his face as he looked around at the other kids in the weight room. He could see the fear that he felt then, knowing that he was getting aroused by the weights and the other kids lifting in the area. He could see the mental anguish he was feeling as he struggled to convince himself that he wasn’t gay. Finally, he could see the pain and defeat in his eyes as he put up the weights and went to leave. The scene stopped as soon as the door was opened. “Here is the point of choice. What would you change here?” the soft voice asked. Thinking carefully, David said loudly, “I would change my entire outlook right there. I would make it so he didn’t feel ashamed about the feelings he was having. I would let him know that getting aroused at the sight of muscle wasn’t a bad thing. And I would give him the focus to stick with it no matter what. I would let him know how much fun it is lifting weights and playing football, and how, even though it might not seem so right then, there were a lot of people in the world that felt the exact same way he did and eventually, he would discover an entire world of gay lifters and bodybuilders to fit in with.” “So shall it be.” The scene before him started playing and he continued out the door, but he was stopped by a large, muscular man. David couldn’t tell what was being said, but he could see the expression of awe and wonder on the his young face. As he talked, David could see his younger self begin to cry and fall forward into the bigger man’s embrace. It took a few moments, but eventually, the muscle man stopped talking and his younger self stood up, dried his eyes and smiled at the big man. The man pointed back inside and David returned to the weight room. The scene faded away and he heard the soft voice whisper, “You have been given a great chance David, remember always, be true to yourself and your life will be filled with joy and happiness.” As soon as the voice finished, the light started to fade. “Hey man! Wake up!” David’s eyes began to open slowly as some person shook him. He looked up to see Jack’s face again, but this time there was something different. Instead of a look of worry, there was simply a jovial smile on his face, coupled with a sense of bemusement. “Dude, I had no idea you were THAT afraid of needles.” “What are you talking about man?” “You mean you don’t remember? I mean, we come here to donate blood with the rest of the team, and the guys were laughing because their huge musclebound coach faints at the sight of a little needle.” “Who me?” “No, I’m talking about the queen of Sheba? How many other huge muscle bound coaches do you know?” David was about to reply, but suddenly his memories started changing. It started from his middle school experience when he chose to stick with weight lifting instead of giving it up. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about giving up lifting. It was such a great feeling in his muscles when he lifted. And who cares if he got hard every time he lifted. It was just the testosterone running through his system. That’s what the big man said. It was perfectly normal to pop boners like that. Even being gay was ok as long as he was happy with himself. The big man had told him so many things that made perfect sense and helped him get through that rough patch in his life. He remembered how rough it was to start, being an openly gay guy in the weight room, but just like the big man said, as long as he was truthful to himself, it would be ok. And it did turn out alright. The coaches saw him as a hard working and dedicated kid and his focus paid off. He grew a lot, his body responding well to all the working out. It seems that he had a lot of testosterone in his system and it went a long way to making him big. He remembered the years of playing football and wrestling, how he just kept growing and growing as he played. He remember the day he got the nickname “Dave the Dozer” from how he plowed through the line. He remembered raising the state championship trophy for football and for wrestling, and he remembered graduating school near the top of his class, and by far the biggest one there. Then, he remembered going to college, learning how to teach kids and coach, vowing that he would give back to his community. He also wrestled and played ball there, repeating the accomplishments of his younger years. David shook his head slightly, clearing out the cobwebs and said to his assistant coach, “Hey man, when you can bench 585 for fifteen reps, then you can give me shit about needles.” Jack erupted in laughter as David swung his legs off the bed. Something felt slightly weird as he moved, and he headed straight to the bathroom. When he closed the door, he was confronted by his reflection. He saw himself with fresh eyes. It started with his face. It was tight and masculine and rough from the years playing sports. He sported a goatee, but the rest of his head was bald. He always liked that look because it was so easy to maintain and since he usually wore his coach’s cap, he liked to maintain the image of the rough and strict coach, even though his jocks knew that he had a soft side. His eyes went down to his neck, thick and bulging with power. He could see the veins that trailed down the massive pillar that connected his head to his torso. Even though it was only visible for a few inches because of his traps, you still could see the power left over from when he wrestled. His shoulders and traps were massive, so wide they spilled off the mirror. He could remember the hours of doing shrugs and presses to get his shoulders to cap off with the thick layer of muscle that they had. His arms were amazingly huge and he was thankful for the genetics that gave him his massive pipes. The last time he had measured them, they were 25 inches flexed, with a pair of hairy forearms that looked like they belonged on Popeye. The polo shirt that he wore was a XXXL, but it still was stretched across his chest like it was Saran Wrap. The school’s mascot that sat on his left pec was just as equally stretched, letting onlookers imagine how massive his chest and back were. He hated how the shirt fit because while the chest was almost uncomfortably tight, the waist billowed in the wind if he didn’t tuck it into his shorts. He knew that underneath the shirt was a hair covered, mainly chest and torso, flat and hard as a rock from all the exercise that he did every day with his players. He looked at his legs, noticing the gym shorts he had on. He remembered that he was going to order some new clothes to try and fit his massive legs. He saw the thick quads and vascular hamstrings attached to his legs, thinking about how his legs were bigger than most people’s waists and chest. He flexed them a little in the mirror, thinking about how he and his team had to do squats today. Finally, he flexed his calves and saw the football sized muscle pop into sharp relief. He smiled to himself, “Yeah, going to have to hit those hard too.” He quickly washed his hands, shaking the last remenents of memory from his old life away before leaving the bathroom. Jack was standing there laughing still and David jabbed him in the shoulder. Jack laughed and rubbed his arm as David said, “Ok, ok. Let’s head on back. We’re going to need extra time for practice today because I swear, anyone that laughs is going to get extra laps.” The two of them started to laugh as they left the hospital room. As soon as they left the room, a figure materialized behind them. The white gowned woman floated towards the window and smiled. “See Kaos, you’re not the only one who can make massive muscled men.” This post has been promoted to an article

Johnny walked up the steps to his apartment after a long day at work. He dragged his feet as he slowly worked his way up the building’s stairs, cursing the lack of an elevator the entire way. He finally reached his apartment and found a simple cardboard box addressed to him lying on the ground outside his door. He bent over, groaning as he did to pick it up, then headed into the apartment. Once he got inside, he tossed his briefcase next to the computer and examined the box a bit more closely. It had a pretty simple label on it; his name and address but no return address. Just a company name: Kaos Corp. He opened the box and found inside simply a CD case. Johnny smiled to himself, “Must be a new piece of beta software.” He read the label and it said “Life 2.0” His mind ran a bit, trying to figure out what it could be as he sat down to his very fancy computer. The install process didn’t take that much time. Soon, he was staring at an intro. He brought over a pen and notepad and started to make notes. The intro was very well done in his opinion. It featured excellent graphics of people morphing into other people. Thin people morphed into big muscle people who then morphed into women, who then morphed into fat guys, and every variation that lied in between. He wrote some notes, praising the creators, then pressed the start button. The next screen had in bold yellow at the top “Character Creator”. He saw two silhouetted figures, one male and one female. He clicked on one figure and it moved to the foreground while the other went to the background. The figure in the foreground rotated as a next button became highlighted. He clicked between the two to see how well it transitioned before he selected “Male” and pressed next. The next screen offered him the choice of difficulty. He selected the hardest difficulty and pressed next. The third screen was by far the most interesting he had seen so far. At the top of the screen was a pull down box. Inside it were several professions ranging from waiter to politician to athlete; all walks of life and salaries were found within. He noticed as he switched from one profession to another, the various pull down boxes below that would light up with different traits and skills, each with a slider beneath them. He glanced over them, marveling at the apparent complexity of the system. As a waiter, he would have traits like patience, charisma, attitude, and others while a politician would have sliders for traits like morality, speech crafting, likeability and more. He settled on an athlete. When he locked in that choice, a second box appeared underneath it. In that box, he had choices ranging from archer to weightlifter. While scrolling through the choices, he noticed that fewer of the pull down boxes changed as he went from sport to sport. He nodded to himself; it made a lot of sense how it was set up. All athletes share certain traits that make them athletes. He wrote a few notes praising the designer and pressed the random select button. The system selected “Bodybuilder” as the athlete type. The cursor moved down to the slider area and a message saying “40 points available” appeared on his screen. His available traits were “Concentration”, “Coordination”, “Determination”, “Genetics”, “Lifestyle”, “Mental”, “Support”, and “Training”. He had no real idea what he needed to put the points into. Each started at a base of 5 and went to a max of 25, so he could have maxed out two traits or spent his points evenly among all of his traits. But, when he went to spend points, he noticed some were linked to others. He would spend points in Concentration and the Determination and Mental stats would rise slightly. Genetics and Lifestyle seemed to be linked, Coordination and Training were linked, and Support and Lifestyle were. Again, Johnny was awed. He enjoyed the depth and complexity of the system. He eventually settled on having his genetics close to max, followed by determination, concentration, training, coordination, lifestyle and support. He made sure to spend his points in a balanced way because he didn’t want to hurt himself in the long run. After that was all completed, he pressed the save and continue button. The next screen that popped up asked him to smile. He saw his built in web cam light up, so he looked at it and smiled. A few seconds later, his face was staring back at him. The prompt asked if he wanted to retake the picture, which he declined to, and it continued. The next page is what surprised him the most. He saw his face on top of what looked to be a wire frame model of a huge man. He watched as a progress bar appeared on the screen that said, “Analyzing racial and genetic features: Please wait”. As the bar progressed, he saw on the left side of the screen various tabs being filled in automatically. He saw his race, ethnic background, parents race and background and his grandparents background all fill in. He was quite surprised that the computer was completely right about his family tree. After the progress bar was filled, a prompt appeared on the screen. “Auto adjust to fit trait selections? Yes – No”. He selected yes and watched as slight modifications were made to his family tree; both of his grandfathers’ race changed and one of his grandmothers’ changed, which in turn changed both of his parents and in turn changed him. After that process was finished, the face on the wire frame altered itself. Johnny was very surprised and impressed by how good it looked when it finished. It still looked like him at the base, but the features were stronger, sharper and more masculine than normal. He also noticed thicker hair and a tougher demeanor. Then the wire frame began to fill in. It exploded with muscle right before his eyes. Almost faster than he could see it, the model changed into what he could only consider a dream. The stats said the avatar was 6’2” and 250 lbs. He was in perfect contest shape from what he could tell. Clad in a blue singlet that clung to his body like a second skin, Johnny could see every muscle in sharp relief. From his thick neck to his boulder size shoulders, ham sized arms, barreled chest down to his tapered waist and his tree truck legs and bullish calves. The avatar was close to perfection and made Johnny feel glad he put a lot of points into genetics. He pressed the save and continue button and was greeted by a EULA screen. It started with the words “By clicking continue, you agree to the “Terms and Limitations” that…”. Johnny skipped down to the end, like he did with almost every piece of software he owned and checked the “I agree” button and pressed Continue. Suddenly, the power went out and plunged his world into darkness. When the power came back on, everything was completely different. His apartment was gone. He now stood in what seemed to be a jock’s apartment. No longer were there computers and books around, but instead he saw bodybuilding magazines, trophies, dumbbells and weights all over the place. For a moment, he thought something was wrong, but then he saw himself in the mirror and everything flashed. He was Jonathan Armstrong, up and coming bodybuilder. He was getting ready to try and get his pro card for the 3rd time in a few weeks. Granted, everyone said he should’ve had it when he first stepped on stage, but he knew it was all politics. They couldn’t deny him this year though. He was completely ripped and bigger than ever. He had spent the entire year focused solely on getting huge with his weight lifting bud and partner. He and James were two of the most dedicated lifters at his gym and while James did more power lifting than body building, Jonathan couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Jonathan began to go through his routine in front of the mirror. He had some problems with the rhythmic routine that his advisor made for him, but he was getting the hang of it. “When you look this good, who cares if you have two left feet,” he said to himself. He turned in the mirror, flexed his bicep, and then moved to the next pose. He watched himself carefully, dissecting every motion for any weakness. He was quite satisfied with his physique. He was huge, strong and built. Bodybuilding and training was everything and he was quite happy with his life. He raised his right arm and flexed it one last time, watching the mound of muscle rise to an amazing peak. James came in behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist and squeezed his lover. No words were spoken between the two as Jonathan led the way to their bedroom. Outside their door, a muscular man walked away from their apartment spinning a DVD on his finger. He chuckled to himself, “Another satisfied customer,” before he faded into nothingness. This post has been promoted to an article