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Part 1 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7100-the-lycanthrope-genome-part-1-of-2/ Meanwhile…..Back in Washington State After calming down from what happened back in the lab, Nathan decides to go lie down for a bit in hopes of waking up and discovering that it was all just a dream. When he reawakens a few hours later, he immediately notices that he is back to his original size. He gets up from the bed and goes to check his phone which is sitting beside his suitcase by one of the closets. He notices that his husband has been trying to reach him for hours, which concerns him greatly. Roman is a man that Nathan met in Europe on one of his company excursions. It was not a business trip either. Roman is an incredibly gorgeous Italian man that caught the eye of Nathan almost immediately. His thick muscular hairy body was on display on one of the private beaches in Naples and Nathan couldn’t keep his eyes off of him the whole time he was there. They started chatting with each other mainly because of their attraction to each other, but after an incredible night of tremendous sex, they never left each other’s side after that. They married after two months of dating when the gorgeous man moved to the States to be with him. Now Roman does the same kind of traveling that Nathan does. The concerned man decides to call Roman back on his phone. ‘Roman, something has happened to me I think, I mean…..I think something has happened…..I don’t know if it was a dream or not……but I feel somewhat different.’ ‘Slow down Nate and tell me exactly what you think has happened to you. I want to know everything okay?’ ‘Well, I think I have been injected with some dangerous substance and I am afraid of what is going to happen to me now. I look normal now, but I fear I will have another episode soon.’ Roman pauses for a few seconds and speaks again. ‘Hmmm, I think I need to come see you then Nate. I think I can make you feel better if I come and help you out with this.’ They make a little small talk before the conversation ends. Nathan thinks about what he just told him and is thoroughly confused now as to how Roman could be so close to where he is staying. After about two hours, Nathan hears a knock on his hotel room door. He goes to open the door and is alarmed to see his husband standing in the doorway. Roman walks in and looks quite calm. He looks around the room for a few minutes before taking his jacket and shoes off and sits down. He motions for Nathan to come sit by him since he looks extremely distraught. ‘What is wrong with you Nate? I rushed over here since I was close to calm you down. So…..what were you saying on the phone about someone injecting you with something?’ Nathan stares at him with a bit of concern and wonders why he is even in Washington. ‘What are you doing here Roman? Why didn’t you tell me that you were in the state? You made it sound like you were further away.’ ‘You know I can’t tell you about my trips that much Nate. The company would punish me otherwise. Just tell about what you were talking about earlier.’ Nathan shows him several scars from his ordeal earlier in the day. Roman groans a few times and goes back over to the bed to sit down before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He begins dialing a phone number as Nathan walks towards him. Roman puts his hand out and tells him to stop moving. He then says to walk into the bathroom and close the door and that everything will be alright. When he does, Roman grabs a few chairs in the room and pushes them up against the door. It seems as if he is trying to barricade him in which immediately gets a rise out of the confused man. Nathan starts to yell at him in anger since he realizes that something is definitely wrong and tries to knock the door down. Roman continues to tell him to relax and not to over exert himself because he doesn’t want him to do something rash. Unfortunately though, he can’t calm down now as he feels something building up inside his body. He falls down onto the bathroom floor and crawls over into the shower before ripping his shirt open exposing his hard body. His chest heaves up and down as that weird feeling continues to intensify. It isn’t long after that that he starts to convulse uncontrollably as his muscles begin growing. His arms develop giant veins once again as he looks down and sees his legs getting thicker as huge vein branches stretch all the way down his quads and into his lower leg area. He presses himself up against the shower walls and feels the tiles cracking under his weight as his body continues to grow. His swelling pecs reach his chin as he gets down on all fours. The pain increases exponentially as he feels his skin shredding as blood sprays all over the shower floor and walls. Thick mounds of fur spring up all over his body as the skin continues to rip and fall off. His legs and arms break next as he screams in agony. They grow longer and curve slightly as they begin to resemble canine legs. He feels his nails ripping out as claws force their way out of his hands. His mind races wildly now as his eyes reshape and his sight changes. He feels his face cracking and popping as a muzzle begins growing pushing his mouth forward as his teeth break off and fangs form inside his new face. His ears fall off as two new ears grow out the sides of his wolf head. He feels the wolf’s tail explode out from under his tailbone and above his new muscled ass. Amazingly, his mind remains the same even though it feels like he is in a dream state. He tries to move forward on his new legs and makes it out of the shower. The huge mounds of skin, blood, and flesh barely register with the confused wolf as he tries to scratch at the bathroom door. He just so happens to look over to the side and sees a mirror. He tilts his wolf head a few times before growling at his reflection and breaks the mirror to pieces. Roman stops talking on his phone and realizes that his fears have come true. He nervously says, ‘Nate, are you okay man?’ before his husband comes flying through the bathroom door and out into the bedroom. Roman yells into the phone that it has happened and drops it on the ground as the voice on the other end laughs in a very gravelly tone. From the other end of the conversation, a hand with sharp claws lightly clicks the end button on his cell phone and puts it down on his desk. He gets up and walks over to a side door before letting out a slight growl. His shirt is stretched to its limits as he opens the door to go inside. The sound of his shirt ripping makes him grunt as a tiny pool of blood drips down his chest as a thick mound of hair follows as it covers his bloated pectorals. Another man is inside and smiles at him before telling the wolfman to come closer to him. He stops walking towards the man to stand in front of him and sits in the chair beside him at the meeting table. His jeans are straining now as he continues to change slowly. They finally give way as more blood hits the floor as a large forest of hair appears on his massively grown legs. The other man puts his hand out and grabs him on his thickly muscled arm which makes the wolfman growl under his breath. His growth cycle stops midway as the other man locks lips on the transforming pup as he tears off ripped shirt and pets his thick brown forest. The pup moans deeply as his master pulls his split jeans off to reveal his hairy wet brown cock which is throbbing wildly. His body is still somewhat in human form as his master rubs his big hands up and down his thick bulbous ab muscles and broad arms. He then leans down to slide his pup’s thick cock into his mouth as he slowly sucks on the hard pole. He howls softly and deeply as his master picks up speed on him. Before long, he squirts several jets of precum down inside his master’s throat and digs his long claws into him. His master immediately looks up at him with his newly revealed green wolf eyes as he begins changing himself. His suit begins to shred as his body convulses and his muscles expand at an alarmingly fast rate. His skin tears open rapidly as blood flies everywhere in the room. His reddish wolf hair shines in the lights once all of the fabric, skin, and blood lands on the floor. He concentrates all of his energy now on staying in his humanoid form so he can continue to service his sexy pup. After a few minutes of scratching and clawing at each other, the two wolfmen take turns shooting their huge loads inside each other as well as coating their thick fur with their seed before jumping to their feet to move over to the nearby couch. Still in their current hairy forms, they start talking to each other in loving ways. ‘I think our experiment worked master, he has successfully changed into the beast without much effort.’ ‘I know. It seems like both of my experiments have been successful. You now seem to be quite comfortable in your new skin Carlos.’ ‘Well, I was scared at first Domino, but I feel so invigorated now that it has taken up residence inside me.’ ‘Excellent. Next time, we will go all the way won’t we? Why don’t you let me service that beautiful brown rod of yours again my hunky Spanish wolf?’ Carlos grunts loudly as he digs his claws into his muscled superior. ‘Mmmmm, that sounds great to me master. My balls are already full again.’ The two werewolves have sex again as the moon makes another appearance in the starlit sky behind them. The Bulgarians Georgi finished the assignment that was given to him by his superiors as he walked slowly back to his desk on the ground floor of the drug facility. His clan leader Petr walks by him as he watches the big man dragging his feet back to his area. He notices how much the man is sweating and tries to cheer him up. ‘You did what you needed to do little pup,’ the beefy man says to Georgi before he pats him on his head. ‘I am quite proud of you for keeping your composure through the whole ordeal Georgi. The elders sometimes can be really hard on the younger ones especially when you are given crazy assignments like this one was. You will be rewarded handsomely though for your efforts, I promise.’ Petr turns back around and closes the door to his office behind him to go sit down to prop his large shoes up on his desk. He unbuttons the white shirt he is wearing and unveils his impressive hairy chest that barely conceals the well-built frame he has. He immediately takes the shirt off, unlocks the top drawer in the desk with a key in his pants pocket, and opens it. Inside is a syringe that is filled with a dark liquid. The clan leader has a mirror located directly in front of him he generally likes to look into to check out all of the curves of his upper body as well as the extremely thick Bulgarian’s beard that he keeps well-trimmed. He takes the cap off the syringe and holds it up to squirt a few beads out. He watches himself in the mirror and lets out a small grunt before plunging the syringe into his heart and pushing the plunger all the way down. The liquid shoots directly into his heart which causes him to drop the syringe within seconds of using it. He immediately feels the effects of it as his eyes turn a deep brown from where they were hazel before. Georgi hears the commotion from his work area and rushes into the room to see what is happening. ‘Охх дяволите .....LOCK THE DOOR PUP! IIIIII……NEEEEDDDD TO RELIEVE SOME TENSION…..’ Petr says to him with a great deal of nervousness. Georgi looks directly into his clan leader’s big brown eyes and knows what is going to happen next. He is conflicted as to what he should do next, but decides that he will stay with Petr even though he knows that he will be coaxed into the same ordeal that his leader decided to start on his own. Georgi could have definitely left him alone, but he fell in love with him a long time ago and stays with him when he decides he needs to let his inhibitions go. Petr is trying to pull his pants off his lower body but is unable to because his muscles are growing too rapidly. Georgi tries to help him out, but his master pushes him away so he doesn’t end up getting hurt too badly. His pants finally shred under the weight of his massive hairy tree trunks and he is completely naked within seconds as his dress shoes go flying off his expanding feet. His growth is feeding his massive lust now as his back stretches to accommodate the extra size he is gaining. Within just seconds, he is over 7 feet tall and is nearly eclipsing 400 pounds. Georgi notices the syringe he used laying on the ground so he rushes over to pick it up. The liquid he injected into himself this time is not the typical one that he has used in the past. This one apparently intensifies the dark half of the wolf that is within him and makes it more powerful than ever. The hair on Petr’s body is thicker and is spreading all over him as his legs and arms crack forcing him to the floor as they become engorged with unreal power and resemble wolf legs. His fangs are more pronounced than they were before and his face is now being formed into a snout. He is developing huge claws as they tear their way out of his fingers and toes. He flares his immense chest out to show how powerful he is as he glares directly at Georgi. His back pops hundreds of times as it reforms. His snout quickly changes into a full blown muzzle as he grows new ears and a new mouth full of thick jagged teeth. Georgi’s fears are realized as his master’s hold on him is forcing him to transform as well. ‘NO! PLEASE MASTER, NOT THIS TIME. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS…..Охх глупости .....’ The unwilling younger Bulgarian feels his clothes getting tighter as he feels his body changing. His legs quickly split the seams on his pants as his big beefy arms rip completely through his tight shirt. His transformation is being accelerated by the hulking wolf that is now just a few feet away from him. He doesn’t stand a chance as he changes into a wolf before his muscles ever reach their fullest potential. His body hair destroys his clothing as he gets on all fours. His eyes change color from a soft brown to a deep green as he grunts feeling the wolf take him completely over. Petr pounces on him as they roll around the room destroying everything in their path. They finally break through a nearby glass window and go running down the streets hungry for something that can quench their thirsts. End of Part 2 I may eventually come back to this series in the future.

Part 1 is here in case you missed it: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7025-a-most-muscular-year-starts-with-a-christmas-surprise-part-1-of-7/ Ed’s old friend Vaughn is one of the guys that contacted him during the week and wanted to invite him to go to a party across town on New Year’s Eve. He told him though that he wanted to wait and see if Kris had something else in mind before he would confirm the invite with him. Vaughn used to work with Ed at his company a few years ago and they started hanging out almost immediately. A relationship blossomed and they ended up dating for a while. Vaughn was never as muscular as Ed was. He was quite thin and rarely gained any weight at all back then, well at least that was the way it was two years ago since that was the last time they actually saw each other in person. The workout that Ed got in today is fierce as he works his arms over really hard to get a good pump in them since the next couple of days will be busier than normal. When he finally gets home, there is a box sitting directly in front of his door with a note underneath the bow. It states that he is not to open what is inside until 12:01am on the night of December 31st. He immediately knows that it is from Kris so he takes it inside and places it underneath his Christmas tree. Just like he did on Christmas Eve, Ed lies down on the couch and falls asleep hoping that he will be awakened by his new lover’s arrival. On the first second of midnight on New Year’s Eve, Ed awakens to a knock on his front door. He jumps to his feet to get there as quickly as he can. When he opens it up, Kris reaches out to grab Ed and gives him a giant bear hug. Their embrace is incredible as he squeezes his young lover with all of the strength in his body making every muscle tense against Ed’s nearly equal frame. Their eyes lock onto each other as they immediately start kissing. The two men start rubbing on each other lovingly since they haven’t had any contact for several days. Kris feels Edward’s chest through his black shirt and marvels at how much bigger it is from the week before. He nearly rips it down the front, but Ed grabs his hands first and motions for him to knock it off before pulling him into the house. He pulls his shirt off to reveal his huge hairy pecs that hang with quite a cleavage with a lot of space along the sides as well. Kris laughs before pulling his red shirt off and showing off his equally large chest as well. It appears that the potion they took the week before made them almost identical in size. Before he started his workout over the past week, Ed was slightly smaller than Kris, but that isn’t the case anymore. Kris most likely knew this would happen which is why he left for a few days so his young lover could start realizing his true potential physically. What is with the package that arrived the day before though? Kris moves up against Ed as their pecs press against each other as the hair on them bristle when they move up and down. The feeling feels tremendous to Ed as he feels warms sensations moving throughout his body. Kris picks him up in the air to smell just above his black jeans. As he positions himself to hold him with one arm, he unzips Ed’s jeans with his other one and watches them fall to the ground as they reveal his partner’s thick hairy legs making the older stud swoon in delight. Ed is emitting really strong odors now since his testosterone levels have increased exponentially. Kris is quite intoxicated by it all as he starts licking Ed’s wet abdominals and tasting the sweat that is running down them. This leads to Ed pushing Kris down on the floor and doing some kissing and licking of his own. His mouth finds its way towards the huge mounds on Kris’s shoulders. His arms show off the massively snaky veins that wait patiently to be serviced by their young master. Ed flexes his equally huge veiny arms which of course get the attention of his elder muscle daddy. The two men have come to the realization that they are becoming mirror images of each other physically and frankly couldn’t care less about it because they are falling in love. It isn’t so much a fuck session but rather a need to fulfill the needs that they crave for each other. Kris pulls his white pants off to reveal that he is wearing absolutely no underwear as his giant cock waits patiently to be sucked dry. Ed greedily swallows it down his throat slurping to get to the seed that is lurking inside Kris’s huge balls to plant them directly into his own belly. Remembering how thick his older lover’s cum was last time, he sucks on the huge pole rapidly to get into a steady rhythm. Kris moans feeling his prostate expanding as his balls and cock swell until they turn a dark purple. He turns his head to stare into Ed’s eyes and tells him that he is getting ready to explode. Ed preps himself for the coming river as he feels Kris’s tasty precum starting to change over to the creamy batter. Each time Kris shoots a stream into his partner’s gullet, Ed’s cock bobs up and down getting closer to the edge. Kris reaches down with one hand to grab Ed’s cock knowing that it will blast at any second and with his other hand he pulls his lover around to slap his rod along his face. After swallowing another huge rope of cum, Ed finally shoots his wad all over Kris’s face. Kris is quickly coated by the thick sauce that is pouring all over his face. He licks Ed’s gaping cockhead running his tongue along the opening and catches its contents as he moans deeply. The two men are extremely satisfied with their selves and get up off the ground to go to the shower to clean up and prepare for that night’s New Year’s party. The late afternoon arrives after the two lovers reacquaint with each other. Kris finishes dressing before going over to pick up the package he sent to Ed earlier in the week. He rips the box open with his bare hands and pulls out another bottle that is similar to the one they consumed just a week earlier. He smiles looking at it sparkle with a bluish color and takes it to Ed who is still in the bathroom. Ed stops grooming himself long enough to look at the shimmering diamonds swimming around inside. Kris tells him that this one isn’t going to be for them, but rather for another fortunate soul. Apparently he already knew about someone from Ed’s past otherwise he would not have sent it in the first place. Instead of a pouch, the bottle arrived in a box similar to one that cologne comes in. Ed has the urge to take the bottle away from Kris, but at the same time, he wonders if Kris has another agenda he isn’t letting him in on. He never believed in this stuff before, but since the gorgeous daddy came down that chimney that night, he is starting to think that anything is possible. Kris looks into Ed’s eyes and can see his temptation so he wraps his huge arms around him and squeezes him tightly to make him realize that they are done with their transformation for now. Ed still manages to get ready before Kris does and goes to find his phone to check to see if he has received any voicemails. There is one from a familiar voice, Vaughn. He says that his plans are still intact and that he still wants Eduardo to attend the party with him. Ed immediately returns his call to confirm that he will be there with Kris, but not to be shy and to come talk to him anyway. Before Ed could get back to Kris in the bathroom, he can hear that deep laugh echoing. It dawns on Ed that this must be the other man that Kris was talking about. He asks him what the potion will do which prompts the studly daddy to say that this one requires a much slimmer guy to transform. Kris finishes getting ready and the two men leave to go eat somewhere before they go to the party. The company party looks exceptionally good this year since it appears as though they poured a bit more money into it. Ed introduces Kris to a few of his coworkers and forgets that he looks quite a bit different than the last time they may have seen him. Some of the guys subtlety grab his arms and pecs while the girls rub on his ass and ask all kinds of questions pertaining to his personal life. Kris laughs as they do this since they barely notice that he is even there. Ed finds this rather peculiar that they don’t say hardly anything to him since he is standing right beside him all the time. Kris pulls him over to a nearby mirror in the corner of the facility and Ed is shocked to see that Kris doesn’t look the same as he sees him. He has the white hair and grey beard that he had before he took the potion that night. The body looks great, but that is the way it was before the potion as well. Kris says that they see what he looks like pre-potion, but not afterwards because the potion provides the results of whatever the receiver wished for. Ed understands now that only he sees the bigger and younger Kris, while everyone else sees the muscular and older version. As they look in the mirror, Ed notices that Vaughn is walking towards them and goes to turn around. He accidentally knocks the small latino man down with his huge chest which gets a big laugh from Kris and a horrified look from Edmond. Vaughn is in complete awe when he sees how Ed looks and can’t help but to feel his power when he grabs the big man’s hand and is picked up off the ground. He still looks as small as he did before, but Vaughn is quite a bit better looking now as well. His Hispanic features are more prominent with his hazel eyes and brown skin. Kris whispers into Ed’s right ear that he will give him the potion when the ball drops as the New Year begins. At this point in time, it is just past 11. Kris ventures off to allow Ed and Vaughn some privacy and to get reacquainted. He finds out that Vaughn moved away to go live with his new boyfriend, but not long afterwards the boyfriend was deployed to Afghanistan and was killed by friendly fire. It took him nearly a year to get over the shock of it happening. Ed proceeds to tell him about Kris, but it isn’t the actual story of how they met. Vaughn thinks that the two men together are quite hot and that he doesn’t even care about the age difference. Ed quickly understands why the potion is meant for Vaughn. Five minutes before midnight, Kris returns back over to hand Ed the potion and tells him that when the clock passes 12:01, he is to give it to his old friend. Vaughn spends the last remaining minutes talking with Kris and Ed. The countdown begins as everyone stares at the television monitors as they watch the ball drop in Times Square. Midnight finally hits as Vaughn squeezes Ed and tells him how much he has missed spending time with him. Ed hands him the potion and says that he bought him something for the party. Vaughn is quite surprised by the gesture and wishes that he had known that Eduardo was going to be at the party sooner because he would have bought him something as well. Kris motions for them to go into the nearby bathroom to talk in private. Ed wraps his arms around Vaughn’s back and leads him into the room with Kris following behind them. They close the main bathroom door as Kris locks it. Vaughn finds this to be a bit strange, but thinks that maybe Ed is going to tell him something important. Ed looks back at Kris getting the nod to have Vaughn drink the potion. Ed unscrews the lid off and tells Vaughn that he should drink it since what happens next might be quite enjoyable. He can sense how nervous his small friend is, so he holds his free hand and leads his other hand to his face. He tells him to trust him as he tips the bottle towards his mouth as Vaughn opens it and swallows the contents. The sensation going down is quite shocking to him because he says it feels like his body is on fire. He is wearing a shiny short-sleeved silver dress shirt and a nice pair of black trousers on his 5’8 135 pound frame. He can feel his body reacting to the liquid fairly quickly as his arms start swelling expanding the veins as they rise to the surface. His chest fills out his shirt and stretches it until it is so tight that he can barely breathe. Both Ed and Kris grunt as they see him begin his metamorphosis. He starts to panic when he feels his legs growing inside his pants as a few threads along the side seams slowly rip. This prompts him to place his arms up to his head as he groans in agony making his biceps shred the fabric as they continue to thicken up. He runs into a stall and places both of his hands on to the side walls. His fingers continue to widen as the stall starts to squeak. His bloated delts and lower back muscles split the back of his shirt open as the two other muscle studs watch eagerly hearing Vaughn’s black boots blow out as his socks shred and his feet continue to grow. His butt is so thick now that it makes the seams completely rip out as it frees itself from any fabric in its way. His brown skin is all shiny now from the river of sweat coming from his pores as it continues to stretch over his expanding muscles. His triceps destroy the rest of his sleeves as his shirt glues itself to his body. His newly acquired lats bust out the side seams as his shoulders and traps massacre more fabric over top of his new cobblestone abs and obliques. Ed approaches Vaughn with caution as the growing man is in such euphoria that it might be dangerous to interfere. The heat radiating from the much heavier Hispanic man is fogging up the windows in the bathroom. Ed lightly places his hands around Vaughn’s thick waist and begins running them along the amazingly firm ridges before moving them to the front to feel his incredibly swollen and wet abdominals. He then reaches up and marvels at the power radiating through Vaughn’s pecs as he feels them stretching under his hands. He presses himself up against his old friend as Vaughn’s huge quads finally blast through his pants and fall to the ground. His ass is pulsing against Ed’s throbbing cock which is trying to burst out the front of his own pants. Thick black hair is now sprouting all over his new muscular body. Ed moans as he reaches down to feel Vaughn’s huge brown cock as it drips a thick stream of precum onto his hands. Kris smiles since he foresaw this happening days ago. He watches as his lover rubs Vaughn’s new body and starts stroking his own cock in his pants. As Vaughn becomes aware of his surroundings again, he turns around and rips the rest of his outfit off. His huge thick brown rod stands straight up as it rubs its thick goo all over his friend’s pants and shirt. Ed moves down to gobble it up as the syrup flows down his throat. The taste is so good that it makes the eager sucker start to touch his self. Vaughn’s hazel eyes stare down at his friend as he flexes his huge guns and attempts to push the side walls down with them. At nearly double his size from before his voice has deepened greatly as his confidence soars and demands for Ed to service him. The new brown hulk reaches down and rips Eduardo’s shirt off to start rubbing on his imposing hairy chest. As he sucks on Vaughn’s cock, Ed reaches up to rub on his big friend’s thick hairy forearms which are now covered in huge hose-sized veins. He traces two of them all the way up to Vaughn’s massive softball-sized biceps and soccer-ball sized shoulders. His touch makes Vaughn growl as he starts to pick Ed up. He rips the butt out of Ed’s pants and boxers and plunges his thick brown rod into his winking asshole. Ed moans feeling it spreading his hole wider as it swallows it inch by inch. Kris has completely stripped naked now and moves over behind Vaughn to get on the toilet to find a position to make Ed suck his cock to eruption. In order to do so him and the brown hulk knock one of the stall walls down to get more space. Ed gulps down Kris’s cock as he starts rubbing on Vaughn’s thick hairy pecs. After a few minutes of this, Kris’s cock turns purple. Waiting for his reward, Ed opens his mouth to catch the thick volcano of cum as it showers his face and runs down his bare chest. Vaughn stops fucking Ed so he can taste the cum as well on Ed’s body. Ed pulls Kris out so Vaughn can down whatever was left inside his pole. Vaughn picks up speed again as his thick cock swells and his balls rise. He pulls his cock out and lets Ed move down to catch his cum. The white spunk flows out and on to Ed’s chest before the beautiful veiny pole is plunged into Ed’s waiting mouth. Kris moves down with Ed as they pass the spurting rod back and forth to each other. With Ed really close now, he moves up to Vaughn’s face and jerks faster on his cock. Vaughn tells him to spray his chest and arms because he wants to feel like a dominant master for once. With pleasure, Ed shoots a huge load all over his brown partner’s pecs, abs, and biceps leading the big Hispanic stud to rub it into his muscles. He flexes his incredible body in front of Ed and Kris and demands that they both lick the cum off. Without wasting another minute, they do as he asks. With the three studs now completely spent from this whole sequence, what will Vaughn do about clothes? Kris hands him his shirt since he is the only one that still has a shirt. Vaughn puts it on even though it is actually a little too big for him. He laughs a little since he never imagined that something like this would ever happen to him. He asks Kris if he can kiss Eduardo since he misses it so much and of course Kris says why not. Vaughn immediately grabs Ed and plants a very passionate kiss on his lips that lasts for well over a minute at least. The feeling is so amazing that he shoots a quick load onto the floor again. The fun part now is to try and get out of the party without being seen. They end up finding a back door and manage to run out into the street with Vaughn only wearing a loose shirt, Kris wearing just pants, and Ed wearing torn clothes. The brown hulk races into Ed and Kris’s car to lie down in the back seat as the other two follow into the front seats. The three of them laugh as they rush out of the parking lot and roll up at Ed’s place. There is a race to the shower with Kris deemed the winner. While he cleans himself, Ed and Vaughn start rubbing on each other and end up fucking once again. Instead of pulling out this time, Vaughn shoots his thick load inside Ed. The hungry bottom lies there in ecstasy as he feels the spunk coating his insides as he kisses Vaughn at the same time. The two men manage to get in a position to rub each other with their pecs, as the hair bristles and their nipples touch perfectly. The sensation from this contact makes Ed cum on to Vaughn’s thick abs as he rubs some of it in and feeds the rest to Vaughn. Kris gets out of the bathroom and sees what they are doing. He tells Ed to get off Vaughn so he can go shower. Once the satisfied bottom leaves the room, Kris winks at Vaughn and grabs the smaller muscleman to flip him over and start fucking him. Kris pushes his thick rod inside Vaughn’s tight hole and starts thrusting rapidly. The Hispanic stud squeals as Kris fucks him really hard. As Kris gets really close to cumming inside him, Vaughn pulls himself off the older man’s pole and makes the cum spray all over the floor. Ed comes back in again as he sees his mature lover shooting and gets down on his knees to catch watch is left in his mouth. He gets a little irritated because some of it hit the ground and he will have to clean up the mess. Vaughn gets up and runs into the shower before something is said to him about it. Kris looks at him and promises that he will help him clean it up since he didn’t mean to do that. They kiss on it and go to get some towels and floor cleaner to clean it up with. When they finish getting it clean, they both go to the bathroom to invite Vaughn to stay since he can’t go anywhere at that time of night and in that condition. He agrees since he doesn’t have any clothes to wear at the moment and admits that he still has strong feelings for Eduardo. A decision is made to where Ed and Kris will sleep in the bedroom while Vaughn will be sleeping on the couch. The three men manage to wind down to sleep as the New Year gets off to a very rousing start. The story continues in Part 3, coming up in two weeks.

BEACH MUSCLE DREAM BY GLAMLEATHERPUNK (AKA GLAMROCKCOWBOY) INSPIRED BY NO NAME'S REMORPHED PICTURE OF THE SAME NAME ON THE DEVIANT ART WEBSITE It was a cold, raw, brooding day in early February—the kind of day that exactly suited the mood of the solitary figure walking up a deserted beach in northern California. 18-year-old Greg Brzinski was slowly making his way towards an old lifeguard's beach house. Just that morning, he had finally re-ceived his high school diploma in the mail, after passing all his exams a semester early. On learning of Greg's graduation, his father had immediately pulled out a gun and forced his son to pack all his mea-ger worldly possessions in the large duffel bag that was now slung over his slender shoulders. He had repeatedly told Greg that, once he did graduate, the two would part ways forever. Even with that, how-ever, the boy had never expected to be forced out of the house at gunpoint. Once he had packed his things, his father had actually blindfolded him, put him in his very old and rus-ty car, and driven him out of the city, cursing Greg all the while. He had never wanted a child, he said. Indeed, he even went on to complain that the only reason he had married Greg's late mother was that he had been forced to do so by his own parents after getting Greg's mother pregnant. He then went on to curse her, and his parents as well, in the vilest language imaginable. (Greg's mother had died of cancer some two years earlier.) When they had reached one of the entrances to the beach, they had stopped. Greg had then been flung out of the car, followed, only a moment later, by his duffel bag. As Greg slowly picked himself up, his father pulled the door shut and drove away, laughing insanely as he did so. Despite his having been blindfolded, however, Greg had immediately recognized where he was. It was a small private beach, owned by an alumnus of Greg's high school, that Greg and his schoolmates had often used during the spring and summer months. Now, however, the beach was closed for the winter. Even the lifeguard's beach house toward which Greg was now headed was most likely deserted, although it was available for rent on a month-to-month basis during the winter months. Greg was acquainted with the owners of the beach. Indeed, he had told them of his father's threats the last time they had seen each other at the beginning of the school year. To his astonishment, the owner's son had given him a key to the house, telling him that he would be welcome to reside there if necessary until he could make some sort of other arrangements. Now, with his father having disowned and aban-doned him, Greg had no choice but to do just that. The slender youth sighed with relief as he came up to the door and gently laid his duffel bag on the ground beside him. Then, digging deep into his pockets, he extracted the key that his friend had given him. He sighed again as the key unlocked the front door of the house without the slightest difficulty. Breathing a prayer of thanks, he went inside and locked the door behind him. Much to his surprise, the beach house appeared to be clean and comfortably furnished. He flipped a light switch on the wall beside him. A series of concealed fluorescent fixtures along the walls instantly came to life, setting the room ablaze with light. Greg blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted them-selves to the higher level of illumination. Although the house was small, it had a combination living room and dining area, with a fireplace along one wall. To one side, there was a large wood box, which was filled with driftwood as well as kindling. There was even a box of matches on the mantelpiece. Since the house was already reasonably warm, Greg saw no need to start a fire as of yet. Instead, he went into the small but well-planned kitchen, along with a small pantry, that opened onto the dining room. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the shelves were all fully stocked, and so was the large refrigerator along one wall. There was even milk, butter, orange juice, and eggs, and all recently pur-chased at that, judging from the dates on the packaging. Greg shook his head in wonder as he made his way to the bathroom. Here again, the room was fully stocked with towels and wash cloths, along with soap and other toiletries. There was even a bottle of liquid bubble bath, along with a Jacuzzi tub! A front-loading combination washer-dryer stood in an alcove off the bathroom itself, along with a linen closet which was also fully stocked, including detergent, fabric softener, and non-chlorine bleach. Greg once more shook his head in wonder as he made his way up the small staircase to the beach house's second floor. Here, there was an enormous bedroom, with a California King-sized bed. To Greg's astonishment, the bed was swathed in what had to be the richest satin sheets, pillowcases, and comforter that he had ever laid eyes on. There was also a small bookshelf and desk area, including a telephone and computer, complete with high-speed internet access. The room was completed by a large overstuffed recliner, upholstered in the richest, softest black leather Greg had ever beheld. Indeed, the recliner appeared to have been a recent addition to the bedroom, for the aroma from the leather all but filled the room, actually causing Greg to experience an erection! Off to his left, there was a set of curtains, which, when opened, revealed a sliding glass door that led to a roofed balcony or porch, complete with beach chairs and a small picnic table. The view from the porch was nothing short of spectacular, even in weather like this. Indeed, even with the glass door shut, the occupant would have a marvelous view from the inside. Clearly, this beach house was not only built to last, but for comfort as well, even in the stormiest weather. Going back downstairs, Greg fetched his duffel bag, then returned to the bedroom and began putting his meager wardrobe into the walk-in closet and dresser. As he did so, Greg wondered if the house's owners might not have been keeping tabs on him, and prepared the house accordingly. Well, he would check on that possibility soon enough, Greg thought to himself. Right now, he needed to get a hot meal and a hot bath, and then maybe take a nap. Going back down to the kitchen, Greg decided on some hot chicken noodle soup, a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a large glass of milk—a simple but comforting repast. After washing the dishes, Greg then drew a hot bath, including an appropriate amount of bubble bath, and turned on the Jacuzzi jets full force. He sighed in delight as he settled into the tub, where he lounged for over an hour. He slowly got out of the tub and dried himself in an enormous, incredibly soft bath sheet, which he had hung on an electrically heated towel bar earlier. He then swathed himself in a rich white satin bathrobe, slid his feet into a set of sheepskin slippers, and headed upstairs to his new bedroom. On checking the bedside clock, Greg saw that it was only 1:00 in the afternoon. He wondered if he should try to call his friends to let them know that he was now safely ensconced in their beach house. A surprisingly strong wave of sleepiness, however, made him decide to postpone doing so until later in the day. He thereupon knelt down by the bedside and gave heartfelt thanks for this unexpectedly rich safe haven, then doffed his robe and slid between the rich satin sheets, falling asleep just moments after his head touched the pillow. As he slept, Greg dreamed that he was walking up and down the beach on a warm, sunny day. As he did so, he noticed, to his astonishment, that every muscle in his body was growing. With every step he took, he was getting bigger—taller—stronger. His skin, which before had been a sickly, pasty white, gradually morphed to a gorgeous golden tan in color. His hair was growing, too—longer, thicker, ful-ler, richer, shinier, softer, and silkier every minute. His already cute face became even cuter—prettier—handsomer—sexier—with a perfectly-shaped nose, high cheekbones, and lips that were growing big-ger and fuller and poutier and more kissable, until finally he became what could only be called the ulti-mate beach pretty boy. As he now turned and walked back toward the beach house, his stride changed slightly, becoming more and more the swaggering strut of a full-blown bodybuilder. The pace of his muscle growth now quick-ened, while his gonads now swelled to a size and power and potency he had never even dreamed of. By the time he reached the beach house, Greg had morphed into what most of his peers would have re-ferred to as a "muscle freak"--and Greg revelled in that realization. So much so, in fact, that as the dream came to an end, Greg experienced by far the most powerful orgasm of his life, pumping out what seemed like gallon after gallon after gallon of his male essence. As his "wet dream" finally tapered off, Greg's sapphire-blue eyes flickered open. He flushed with em-barassment as he realized that he was lying in a huge puddle of his own semen. He promptly flung the satin comforter to one side, then jumped to his feet. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the large 3-way mirror that stood to one side of the bed. His mouth fell open, and he stiffened in astonish-ment as he realized that at least part of his dream had come true, and that he now actually was a full-fledged muscle freak. Even his hair had grown every bit as big, as long, and as rich as he had dreamed it had. To top it all off, his skin was now an even more beautiful golden tan than it had been in his dream! Greg shook his head in utter wonderment, then realized he still had some cleaning up to do. He there-upon pulled the soiled satin sheets and pillowcases off his bedding, then went downstairs to the alcove where the washer-dryer sat waiting. He loaded the machine, then began measuring out the appropriate amounts of detergent, bleach, and fabric softener, which he then added to the proper dispensers. As he did so, Greg noticed a brand name on the packages that he had heard of, but had never seen before: “Nu-Yu.” Greg's pulse quickened. He had read about the Nu-Yu company online. They had recently been under fire from a number of government agencies for their extravagant claims. The resulting combined law-suit had gone all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—and the company had won! In a stunning unani-mous decision, the Court had overruled the various government agencies, couching their decision in language that was so strong, so unequivocal, so decisive, that even the Attorney General of the United States had publicly admitted defeat. The memory prompted Greg to check the labels of all the other cleaning aids and toiletries he had used. Sure enough, they were all labeled, “Nu-Yu.” In fact, every cleaning aid and toiletry in the entire beach house carried the “Nu-Yu” label. On a hunch, Greg examined the labels of the bubble bath, the soap, and the shampoo and conditioner he had recently used a little more closely. The soap and bubble bath both bore a designation of “Ex-treme Beach Muscle,” while the shampoo and conditioner were labeled “Extreme Glam Rock Big Hair.” Greg promptly grinned from ear to ear as he digested the labels' implications. Then, realizing that he needed to clean himself up as well as the bed sheets and pillowcases, he removed his underwear (which had somehow enlarged itself to accommodate his new size) and added it to the washload. After starting the machine, Greg went back to his bedroom to fetch fresh underwear, as well as the satin bath-robe he had worn earlier. Then, hanging the huge bath sheet on the towel heater once more, the young giant took another bath, being especially careful to wash his newly-enlarged gonads. As he did so, an incredible feeling of pleasure and exultation came over the young muscle giant, for he realized that his muscles were growing even larger and more powerful, while his hair was growing into what could only be called a super lion's mane, towering more than a foot beyond the top of his head, then rippling down in super-luxuriant, coal-black waves over his rapidly-swelling chest, shoulders, and yard-wide back, fi-nally terminating at the bottom of his now medicine ball-sized calves! As the now teen muscle super-giant got out of the tub and dried himself off, he realized that not even such big-haired rock legends as Bill Kaulitz of Tokio Hotel and the 90's rock group Nitro would be able to match his hair in length, volume, or for sheer beauty. After putting on deodorant and donning his newly super-sized underwear, on impulse Greg decided to look for some makeup. After all, he thought, since he now possessed tresses worthy of any glam rock megastar, why not complete the look? Checking the vanity top, for the first time Greg noticed a wide selection of unisex cosmetics, as well as shaving cream, after shave, and cologne, all of which bore the Nu-Yu label. There were even a Nu-Yu toothbrush and toothpaste and mouthwash! Despite his still-increasing size, Greg found that he was easily able to shave, brush his teeth, and put on a selection of cosmetics that amplified and magnified his “pretty boy” good looks and sex appeal until they were almost unbearable. As he headed back upstairs, Greg suddenly realized that his new abode had somehow modified itself to accommodate his now super-giant status. He shook his head in wonder as he re-entered the bedroom, carrying a load of satin sheets and pillowcases to replace the ones he had soiled earlier. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the now “California Super-King” mattress was undamaged, despite the volume of his earlier ejaculation. After putting the replacement linens on his bed, Greg took a good look at himself in the big 3-way mir-ror that stood next to the closet door. He was genuinely shocked to see how enormous his muscles had become. By this time, his pectoral muscles had actually grown to the point where they were within an inch of his nose, while his traps were up to the tops of his ears. His neck had been all but swallowed up by his shoulder muscles, including his deltoids, which were as big as medicine balls. His biceps were also medicine ball sized, while his triceps were at least half again as big! His thighs were each the size of a 1200-pound giant pumpkin, while both his calves and his forearms were slightly larger than medi-cine balls. His glutes were about the same size as his calves, giving him the biggest, tightest, sexiest-looking “bubble butt” he had ever seen. Even the muscles of his face were bulging with power, yet in such a way as to maintain, and even enhance, his “pretty boy” looks. The incredibly deep cleavage be-tween his massive pecs enabled Greg to breathe, talk, and eat without any difficulty. In fact, despite his incredibly massive musculature, Greg found that he could move around with surprising ease and flexi-bility. He was also astounded to to see that his each of his testicles was now the size of a giant canta-loupe, while his now “ultra-mega-SUPERmanhood” was now a whopping 14 inches long and 7 inches around—and that was in its relaxed state! Greg swaggered over to the closet to see if there was anything he might be able to wear, given his now-enormous size. To his astonishment—and relief—he found several dozen pirate and poet shirts, over a dozen pairs of what could only be called “pirate pants,” plus several pairs of buccaneer boots, super-wide belts, sashes, enormously wide-brimmed “pirate king” hats, and even several 17th-century-style “commander's coats.” He also found several satin sharkskin business suits in both single-breasted and double-breasted styles (all with wide-leg slacks!). While all the suits were in an unmistakably high-fashion style, he noted that some of the suit coats were waist-length, while the rest were regular-length. To complete the wardrobe, there were several pairs of ankle boots, some with stacked heels and plat-form soles, as well as a selection of neck chains, earrings, pendants, and other jewelry. Greg was agog to behold such a luxurious wardrobe, and he was surprised to find so many pirate-type items in the closet. On giving the matter a little thought, however, Greg realized that, at least for now, he was living in a seaside environment, and so it made sense for him to dress accordingly. So the young super-giant swaggered into the closet and selected a white silk gauze pirate shirt with sleeves that actually dwarfed even his huge arms, a pair of black rayon pirate pants whose legs all but swallowed up his enormous thighs and calves, a pair of thigh-high buccaneer boots in black patent leather with high stacked heels and thick platform soles, a 3-inch-wide black patent leather belt with a huge ring buckle, and a 4-inch-wide sash in royal purple satin. Checking the dresser that stood to the right of his 3-way mirror, Greg burst out laughing when, in addi-tion to a fine selection of over-the-calf hosiery, he found more than a dozen pairs of what could only be described as men's pantyhose! Then, remembering from one of his history classes that men had in fact worn stockings quite similar to pantyhose back in Elizabethan times, he cried out, “Well, why not?” He thereupon selected a pair of black silk pantyhose and put it on—and promptly experienced the erection of his life! It took several minutes, in fact, for Greg to calm down and thereby avoid yet another super-orgasm. Once he did, however, he quickly proceeded to put on the shirt, the pants, the belt, the sash, and finally the boots. Greg almost fainted as he looked over the final result of his efforts in his 3-way mirror. If there were any such thing as a “super-swashbuckler,” he decided, he surely qualified, especially with his rich, dark chocolate-brown tresses coming down to his ankles, both in front and in back. On impulse, he selected a rich burgundy velvet coat and the biggest, widest-brimmed “pirate king” hat he could find and added them to his outfit. The result was nothing short of staggering, both in looks and in sex appeal. Greg let out a positively thunderous laugh of exultation and exuberance as he once more preened himself in his 3-way mirror. He didn't just look like a “pirate king”--he looked and felt like a “pirate emperor!” Now that he was fully dressed—and then some!--Greg decided to let his benefactors know that he had taken them up on their kind offer to reside in the beach house. He thereupon powered up the computer, which of course took several minutes to get going, especially in view of the number of system updates that needed to be downloaded and installed. While all of that was going on, Greg decided to go down to the kitchen and brew himself a pot of hot tea, especially in view of the fact that it was cold and raw outside. As he did so, he spotted several bottles of food supplements in one of the kitchen cabinets. He was not surprised to find that they too carried the “Nu-Yu” label (including, of course, the customary and mandatory FDA disclaimers, the sight of which caused Greg to snort with amusement). As he looked over the labels of the supplement bottles, he saw that one was labeled, “Extreme Super Intelligence,” the second read, “Extreme Wealth,” and the third read, “Extreme Musical Ability.” After reading the directions on each label, he took one—and ONLY one—tablet out of each container. (The directions warned that taking more than one would render the supplement useless, especially if more than one supplement were to be taken at the same time.) Since the directions indicated that each sup-plement was to be taken on an empty stomach, he filled a water glass, then took each of the pills, one at a time, washing each pill down with at least two swallows of water. Within a matter of minutes, the supplements began to take effect. In five minutes, Greg sensed that his intellectual capacities had increased to the point that his already high IQ had skyrocketed beyond any measurable level. In ten minutes, Greg's net worth had shot up to over a trillion dollars, and the beach house had morphed into a mega-mansion that even the Sultan of Brunei would envy. Lastly, by the time fifteen minutes had elapsed, a huge pipe organ had become part of the walls and ceiling of the beach house, and manuscripts for several new organ symphonies had appeared on the solid gold coffee table in the mansion's huge new music room. As the transforming effects of the supplements tapered off, Greg suddenly noticed that there were jew-eled rings on every finger of both of his massive hands, while his outfit had become at least a hundred times more lavish and extravagant than all of the legendary Liberace's richest costumes put together. Shaking his head in wonder, the young trillionaire made his way back to the bedroom, now enlarged to the size of a small house. He was amused to notice that the computer he had turned on just half an hour before was only now finishing up downloading and installing the system updates it had begun working on when it had first been powered up. Before he could even sit down at the desk, however, the computer, having finally completed its soft-ware updating, suddenly began updating its hardware as well, finally morphing into what Greg knew had to be the hottest, fastest, most advanced luxury gaming computer system on the entire planet. He once more shook his massive, gorgeous young head in wonder as he finally seated himself and began the task of contacting his benefactors and letting them know what had happened to him. Within five minutes, Greg had composed an email to his benefactor, David Johannsen, thanking them for their incredible generosity, and briefly describing the changes in himself and the beach house. Within another five minutes, he received a reply, telling him that the beach house was now his to keep, along with its contents (all of which, of course were now greatly augmented in luxury and value due to Greg's taking the “Extreme Wealth” supplement only a short time earlier). The message also stated that David, along with his twin sister, Jenna (Greg's long-time girlfriend) and his own girlfriend, Ruth Bohr, would be coming to visit him shortly. Needless to say, Greg promptly acknowledged the message. He then logged off the Internet and printed out a report listing both the hardware and the software that were now installed on the system. Greg whistled in admiration as he looked over the listing. All of his favorite computer games, as well as the latest in multimedia production software and his favorite glam rock music videos and audio tracks, were at his command. In addition, the system was equipped with full 7.1 surround sound capability, as evidenced by the numerous satellite speakers positioned around the room, to say nothing of the massive subwoofer in one corner of the room. He also had a full selection of cable TV channels at his disposal for viewing on the big 50-inch monitor on the desk in front of him. By this time, Greg realized that David and his party would be arriving shortly. He was about to turn off the computer when he saw a notice on the screen that more updates were being downloaded and in-stalled. With a snort of amusement, he arose from the desk and left his new toy to augment its capabili-ties still further. As he did so, Greg felt an enormous surge of increasing power and strength rushing upward through his body. He felt himself growing taller as well, and he somehow sensed that he was now at a height of well over 7 feet. His already massive gonads swelled up even bigger, creating an obscene bulge at the front of his pirate pants, which were now of heavy black silk satin. Thankfully, his trousers promptly enlarged themselves just enough to correct the problem. As he made his way down the stairs toward his now-massive front door, his hair began to sparkle from the presence of gold, silver, and platinum dust, as well as powdered precious and semi-precious stones in every color of the rainbow. Although Greg was ecstatic about his now ankle-length tresses, he still could not help thinking that having his hair styled in long, big, brawny-looking curls might actually be more fitting, given his greatly-modified appearance. As if in direct response, Greg's hair began curling itself exactly as he had envisioned. Even when the curling process concluded, however, his hair was still long enough for him to sit on! Just before he opened the door, Greg pulled his hair back such that it all fell over his incredibly broad back and shoulders. He then fluffed up the numerous rows and layers of ruffles and lace on his “mega-pirate” shirt, which was now of cloth-of silver, and straightened his massive “commander's coat,” which was now of cloth-of-gold. He then opened the massive door, only to be confronted by three of the biggest, most lavishly-clad young super-giants he had ever seen. Quite clearly, David, Ruth, and Jenna had had given themselves the same “Nu-Yu” treatment that he had. The very sight of his three transformed friends enraptured him, as he threw his gargantuan arms around each of them in turn, es-pecially Jenna, whom he favored with what could only be described as an “ultra-mega-maxi-SUPER kiss”--a kiss that kept going deeper and deeper and deeper, until at last Greg simply had to break it off in order to breathe. David had brought the necessary documents for Greg to sign in order to formalize and legalize the transfer of the property from himself to Greg, an action which Greg promptly carried out with all man-ner of flourishes. David then gave the documents to a lavishly-clad young servant who was standing outside the front door, with orders to forward them to the proper authorities. Even as he did so, much to Greg's delight, his best friend's outfit became even more lavish, indicating an increase in David's net worth. He joyfully covered his best friend's face with kisses, thanking him again and again for his in-credible generosity. David, for his part, did the same to Greg, thanking him for his love and friendship, which had begun when they were both in kindergarten, and was now reaching its apotheosis. The culmination of these events took place two days later, when the two young couples were formally married in Las Vegas. Local newspapers described the affair as “the most lavish double wedding in Las Vegas history.” Every member of Greg and David's graduating class was present for the ceremony, all of them gorgeously dressed for the occasion. They all went wild when Greg announced that he was arranging full-expense-paid scholarships for each and every one of them all the way through their PhD studies, should any of them want to go that far. The reception and concert that followed featured the hottest glam rock groups and singers from the 1980's, all of whom wore outfits so extravagant that even Adam Ant shook his head in wonder. As might be expected, the two young “MEGA-couples” then proceeded to consummate their unions in the most luxurious honeymoon suites Las Vegas had to offer. They then returned to the beach house, now a “mega-mansion,” where the whole affair had begun. The two couples had decided to share the house, for they wanted to live together always. Despite the staggering wealth and muscle they all now possessed, the four young “mega-muscle-teens” were humble and grateful, and they all recognized the enormous responsibility that came with such blessings. As they made the return journey to their new home, they all prayed sincerely for God's guidance and help as they began their new lives of muscle and luxury together.

My Weekend JOB part two by F_R_Eaky Dedicated to so many artists, writers, etc. that inspire. PART ONE: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6983-my-weekend-job-part-one/ Joshua went to take a shower in the hotel room, but became lost in thought looking at himself in the mirror. His crotch was just up over the counter top now. He looked down at his feet to see their new size and comparison to the floor tiles. He stood and marveled in the shower to see where the shower head now came to on him and how he could look over the shower curtain rod with just a slight tilt of his head or a raise onto his toes. "I'm six foot four....six foot four!" He said to himself over and over again. He rubbed his hands up and down his body to wash it and felt how he had not only grown, but lost all his unhealthy weight. Like his friend, Brent, he too had grown taller and achieved the build of a swimmer. As his hand went further down though he suddenly had a very shocking revelation. "OH MY GAWD!" "You alright, Josh?" Cried Brent from the other side of the bathroom door. "Ye....ye...yeah." stammered Joshua. "You just discovered your third leg, didn't you?" "WHAT?" Said Joshua, realizing the implication Brent was making. He turned off the shower, threw open the curtain, grabbed a towel and stepped outside to see Brent sitting on the bed, laptop open, watching a growth video, and his cock was enormous. Joshua was so taken back that he dropped his towel. Brent looked up and over to him and then smiled. "You look about the same soft as I did - nine inches" Joshua looked up to Brent's face, who just took a ruler from his side and tossed it to Josh. "It's fully erect now and is twelve inches exactly. Can you believe that? Twelve inches. We're some of the largest hung men on Earth." Joshua felt his cock rise up and bob, the new length and girth of his cock fought against its rising and made a compromise by simply sticking straight out. Sitting down on the bed, Joshua began to watch the videos Brent had pulled up and suddenly Brent began to stroke Joshua's cock. The sudden jolt of pleasure was so powerful, it made Joshua convulse a little and his toes and fingers curl. "OH GAWD!" "I know.... they're soooo sensitive now. and I think our balls have increased in size too." Joshua reached his hand out and made contact with Brent's magnificent member and began to stroke it. This in turn made Brent begin to contort and curl his digits inward as well. The two watched more videos and stroked until they couldn't stroke anymore and blew two very large loads into towels. After a second shower, Brent presented Joshua with some of his clothes and a pair of size sixteen sneakers. Joshua was nearly ready and raring to go again, an erection trying to happen once more as the idea of wearing Brent's clothes and them fitting turned him on very much. "I kind of figured yours weren't going to fit too well anymore and you needed something to drive home in." Joshua thanked Brent for the clothes, and the two packed their things and said goodbye to one another. Joshua almost didn't make it home without blowing a load. He had to get used to the fact that he was tall. In some hallways and some older gas stations and convenient stores on the way home, he had to duck signs or watch the door frames as they were much lower than the modern standard average. Getting used to walking with longer strides and his large size sixteen feet and their shoes was also a challenge, not to mention he now had to put his driver's seat much farther back than it used to be. ***************************************************************************** * It had been about a month since Joshua had spent a weekend with Brent, as per usual. Normally between his schedule or Brent's schedule, plus the fact of how far apart the two of them lived from each other, the two could only meet about every three or four months or so. But oh, what an exhausting month it had been. Although Joshua enjoyed his new height, his larger feet, his slimmer build, and his larger cock, and enjoyed them immensely, they created a few problems. The first was Joshua's friend, Lawrence, Larry. How on earth would he, could he explain a seven inch growth spurt plus a several pound weight loss or change over the course of a weekend? He had to dodge Larry over and over again, for him not to see Joshua, until Joshua could come up with an explanation. Not only that, but none of Joshua's clothes fit him, so he couldn't make an appearance at work or even in the mall or parks, not until he could buy some clothes. And that didn't come easy. Although only being six foot four inches tall, there were still many things on the normal rack that didn't fit well on Joshua's body. That didn't even take into account that Joshua had to start learning to "wear" his soft cock down one pants leg or the other as it all wrapped or balled up upon his larger testicles simply created too large of a bulge. At any rate, there were some clothes, especially the shoes, he would have to buy either custom made or at much higher prices due to there being a much more limited supply of them. He called in sick for two days, feigning the flu, and went on a shopping spree the best his savings could allow. Then he came in early and left late every day so as not to have coworkers see him too much standing so much taller than he used to. When it did come time for him to have to walk to a meeting with a group of people he would hunch so his new height wasn't quite as noticeable. He also had to think cold shower thoughts whenever he did have to go walking around the office because he noticed how many more people he stood taller than or that most of the people he thought were really tall in the office, were at best just as tall as he is now. But Joshua also decided to help his financial situation out a little bit. Thinking about how expensive it was to have to buy a whole new wardrobe, not to mention that the mattress on the bed seemed a little short as well, he wondered how on earth he was going to earn all the extra money he needed. The answer came to him as he passed by an old costume shop window in the heart of his city's "old towne." They had as one of the displays an old eighties style wrestling outfit, but had combined it with a Mexican style wrestling mask. He went in a bought a couple of wrestling masks and then went to sports store to buy some wrestling trunks. Once he was back at home, he created an account on CAM4 under the name, Clyde S'dale, and listed himself as a behind the scenes wrestler lithe but toned build, 76" x 8-13" plus 12". At first things were a little slow, but once everyone got a glance at the size of the bulge in his trunks and the unveiling of his cock, the rise of his cock to erection, men and women began to flock to his page like moths to a flame. And of course many wanted to see him jack off or self suck his cock, and Joshua was all too turned on and willing to do just that, but made those acts private so as to have folks pay for the privilege to see that. He moved on to or added other muscle or cock cam sites and it didn't take him long to earn a decent amount of money. But the buying of new clothes, some new pieces of furniture, and nearly nightly jack off sessions, sometimes multiple, was making Joshua exhausted. Then one night Joshua received a phone call from Brent. "Hey Josh, how you doin'?" "Hey Brent, doin' well. You?" "Doin' okay. Whatchu doin' now?" "Not much." "Really... not been growing? Not been getting big?" "Oh yeah! Constantly, man. You know me. Hardly a day goes by I don't dream of getting huge, muscular, and hung." "Still? Even now, when you're six foot four and hung like a bull?" "Oh maaaaaaan. Even more so now. I can't believe we both grew. To have our fantasy kind of come true like that. It's such a turn on. Hmmmmm fuck...." "Getting hard now, just thinking about it?" "Yeah....aaaw gotta get these jeans off and set my cock free..." "I understand. I still can't believe how big our cocks got. How meaty and hefty they feel." "And still so rock hard and throbbing." "Yeah.... and we just want them to get bigger." "Ooooh yes.... bigger.....biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiii iiiiiiiii gerrrrrrrrr..." "No... we can't get into it.... not right now." Joshua stopped speaking or moaning rather, but silently kept playing with huge, engorged cock as he listened. "I need to meet up with you again, and I think you need to meet up with me again. We need to hang together because we rock, we understand each other, and now understand what a well endowed man needs." "Awwww man... I agree...." And Brent told him a hotel he had booked, the city it was located in, and arranged for him to meet the following weekend. After hanging up, Joshua imagine how much fun the weekend would be, what happened the last time they met up, and about growing hulk sized. It didn't take him long before he was spraying a supreme sized load from his natural hose. ***************************************************************************** After knocking on room 1709's door and greeting Brent after he opened it, Joshua walked into two surprises for the weekend. The first was that this room wasn't a room. It was a couple of rooms that contained a living area, a dining nook, the bedroom area, and a bathroom. Brent explained that both of them being tall men now, he decided to use up his hotel points to get some accommodations that were just under the presidential suite level. He also did this because of the second surprise. "Whoa! You're right, Brent, he did grow." Joshua turned the corner to find two other net buddies he made: Darien and Andrixos. Darien was a 6' 1", balding blond man, blue eyed, with a slightly stocky and hairy body. Andrixos was 6' 4", average build that was pretty smooth, green eyes and thick mop of sun-kissed brunette hair. These two were also fond of the same fetish Brent and Joshua liked, again some slight variations in hose they fantasized about things, but still the general outcome was the same: bigger, taller, stronger, more hung men. "Sorry to surprise you like this, Joshua, but I had to tell someone what happened. I was visiting with Darien a couple of weekends ago and he at first didn't really believe my story until he noticed my new shoes and that they were definitely bigger than size twelves." "Not to mention the fact that once you took them off, I could tell your feet filled those shoes and filled them well." Said Darien. "Anyway, I told them about our little growth and of course explained the greatest changes happened to you. They went to looking at your Facebook page and saw your pics of you standing next to your tall friends, one whom I remember you telling me was six foot three inches tall. They decided to have a major weekend and see for themselves what you looked like now." The trio stood there looking at Joshua as he looked back at them and thought for a minute. Finally, Joshua relaxed his stance and placing his laptop case on the dining table announced... "Cool... .... I've had to hide the changes from all my coworkers and my friends. I mean, how does one describe a seven inch growth spurt, not to mention a five and half inch one down there, over the course of just a weekend? It's nice to be able to tell someone and talk about it." With that the four of them changed into more casual and comfortable clothes, pulled out laptops, and began to watch and talk all about the growth that happened and the growth they'd love to see. Towards the end of the night, or very early in the morning, they decided to wind down the first night of their growth fest and retire of the evening. "So really, you guys were just jacking off to some videos, you released, and the next morning you woke up changed?" asked Andrixos. "Yeah," said Joshua. "Just like we had hundreds of times before with those particular videos we showed you earlier this evening." "Well, we don't feel any different? Do you two feel different or like changes are going on?" "No" said Brent, "But there was one thing we had done differently, by accident that we normally didn't." "What was that?" "We came on each other." Joshua blushed as he spoke, "actually we accidentally blew into each other's mouths." "You sure it was accidental?" said Andrixos as he gave Josh and Brent a smile. "It was." said Brent. "He helped me climax and I herky-jerked and wound up pointing my cock his direction upon my release. To be polite, I helped him get off and aimed it at myself, so he didn't feel like I was just shooting at him for fun." Brent then got up off the bed he and Joshua were lying on top of and went to go use the bathroom, at which point Andrixos got up off the other bed he and Darien were on and took Brent's spot. "Whatchu watching over here?" Andrixos asked Joshua as he reclined across the bed. "Oh, it a series of morph videos. The artist takes these video clips of bodybuilders and after a certain point he has them blow up in size and then everyone takes photos of them. Sometimes they blow up twice from two different normal poses, or he blows them up twice, bodybuilder to super human to inhumane." "Oh yeah, I like those videos." Said Brent as he came back, and reaching for his laptop, grabbed it and sat on the other bed next to Darien. He threw a chord end over to Joshua. "Here, let's sync up so we can easily see what you're playing over there, over here." Joshua plugged the chord into his lap top, clicked on some things, and soon whatever he was playing on his laptop, Brent was viewing on his. [...(crowd grasps, the sound of slightly heavy footfalls as a bodybuilder takes the stage....) ] "Oh I like this, that's Alexey Lusekov. He is so fuckin' thick!" said Brent. [... (Alexey makes his way center of the stage, raises his arms to do a frontal lat and chest spread.) pow pa-pow pa-pow pow pow pa-pow.... errrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRT! (Alexey blows up to twice his size... the crowd ooo's and ahhh's even louder and more and more photos are taken) .... pow pa-pow pow pow pow pa-pow pa-pow pow pow pow...] Darien leans over to see Brent's screen better. "You like Alexey cause he's all thick and swole, you like him now that he's even.....bigger!?" "Hmmmmmmmm oooh yeah....." Andrixos leans over and queries Joshua. "How 'bout you, Josh? You like Alexey?" "Ooooh yeah... I like Alexey. He's so fuckin' thick and dense, full and hard, yet defined...." "And now that he's even bigger?" "Uhhhhmmmm yeah.... love that...such power..." [....(Alexey turns and does a side chest shot. The crowd ooh's and awes when he suddenly breaks it and then goes back into it and then swells even bigger.) ... errrrrrRRRRRRRT HURRR! POW PA-POW PA-POW PA-POW POW POW POW....] "You like it when they swell, don'cha, Joshua? " "huh huh....oooh yeah....muscle's poppin' getting fuller..." "How 'bout you, Brent?" "Yes.... Those big full muscles just getting... huh...huh.... larger and thicker... Oh look... huh... Joshua, it's Lee Priest. You love Lee Priest. ..." "Oh yeah.... huh huh...loved him for ages..." [ (Lee steps up in front of machines in the weight room. His arms are hanging so far out to his sides because his lats and upper arms are so thick. He stands there and straightens his posture.) eeerrrrrRRRRRT! (suddenly his shoulders and back broaden even incredibly wider, his arms become a little fuller and so does his waist line, even though it looks tight under his white tank top. He flexes his arms a little bit. The scene repeats only this time it's slower...) HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!] "You like that don't you, Brent. Getting bigger... Stronger...." "Yeah... more muscular... harder....denser..." "Come on, big boy.... don't let Lee outgrow you..." "Yeah...huh huh...huh....huh.....getting so pumped up." "You like it too, right, Joshua?" Said Andrixos as he placed his hands on Joshua's shoulders. "huh ... huh....yeah.... growing bigger...denser... stronger... fuller....huh huh huh..." "And Lee's not goin' to outgrow you. Why you're a full foot taller than him, maybe more. You can't outgrow him... you're doing it now aren't you...ERRRRRRT!" "OOOH FUCK! YES! Growing...." [(Scene changes to Lee now doing shoulder shrugs... in the middle of which he suddenly grows) eeerrRRRRRRT! (the scene again repeats itself in a slower fashion as the hunky Lee Priest begins, slower this time to work out those shoulders and then grow...) HUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!] "You're swelling right there with him, aren'tchu, Brent big boy?" "UUUH... yes...growing...huh huh...swelling....huh....ballooning...." "Come on, big man....grow... GROW! You a wussy? I SAID GROW!" "HUhh BIGGER! huh huh huh....stronger....denser....harder...thicker! huh hhu hhuh...." "You're not gonna let Brent and Lee out grow you are you?" "NO! NO! Getting bigger! huh huh huh more swole! Fuller! STRONGER!" "Must be hard for you to stroke that cock... it's so much longer and thicker than it was before." "HUH HUH huh huh huh huh huh yeah....oooh soooo... huh huh big....the sensations! Ooooh." "Look here comes Phil Heath to the stage. He's gonna swell and outgrow you." [ "He said he wanted the word massive to be used amongst the other words that I commonly used to describe..." (Phil Heath does a double bi and then....) HUUH! (Instantly he doubles in massive size and the crowd gasps and cheers).....] "No... NO.... huh huh huh huh our growing him!" "And your cock is growing even longer and thicker too..." "OOOOOoooooohh OH! YEAH! huh huh huh huh huh .....gettting soooo bi-HIG! huh huh huh..." "You're growin' too, aren'tcha big boy. Gonna become a real man?" "Yes....huh huh..." "Yeah?" "Yes...bigger...huh...STRONGER!..... DENSER!.... huh huh huh huh..." "Why don't you show me how you can grow...." At that moment, Andrixos and Darien each grabbed either Joshua's or Brent's cock. One hand grabbing the head and squeezing it hard while rubbing the thumb up over the head and the slit, while the other hand pulled long, firm, and slow down the shaft. "AUUUUUUUUUUGH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" "AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" The sensation of this blow was so strong, both Joshua and Brent convulsed, shook, spasmed, as they blew their load and then passed out. Andrixos and Darien both took the shots into them and then proceeded to jack off to the rest of the videos, falling asleep after they came. ***************************************************************************** The next morning, three of the buddies awoke to the sound of one of them screaming. "HOLY SHIT!" The three sat up in the beds they were laying on and looked towards the bathroom door. Andrixos, slowly peeked around the corner towards his three friends and saw them all breathlessly sitting up, awake, on the beds. "Sorry, guys....didn't mean to wake you..." "Well, what surprised or scared you?" Asked Brent. "oooh..." stated Darien.... "I think....oooooh..... I know....." Everyone looked at Darien.... the sheets over his lap began to shift and move, rise, and a pillar like formation began to rise up and cause the fabric to tent. It began to sway and bobble a little, then suddenly there was a snap, like the sound of an elastic band pulling taught against skin after being pulled and stretched too far. Joshua shot a glace over to Andrixos. "I take it you're now a member of the foot long club, too?" Andrixos, shrugged and stepped out of the bathroom, revealing that his member was tenting his underwear to maximum capacity. "You seemed to have slimmed down just a titch and toned up as well." "Alright, Darien," said Brent, "Stand up..." "What?" "Get out of bed and stand up." "But uhmmmm...." "We're jack off buddies, we've seen each other before, and the two of us have been walking around with a ruler in our pants now for a month. You're not going to surprise or scare us." Slowly Darien stood up, and then walked over to Andrixos, whom he was now just as tall as. "Ok to make it official," said Joshua, "Go attempt to put your shoes on and see if they fit." The shoes didn't fit of course, both of them now wearing size sixteens. After the initial shock wore off the four men began to talk and discuss how great it was all of them being tall, slim and trim, and hung. Brent and Joshua pulled out some extra pairs of shoes and gave them to Andrixos and Darien, while Andrixos loaned some clothes to Darien to wear and then the four of them all went out to grab some breakfast. The four of them had a hard time keeping their cocks deflated, and smiles from spreading across their lips, because all of them being slim and six foot four inches tall, had folks asking obvious questions such as "Was there a basketball tournament in town?" or "Is there a meeting of International Tall People Clubs nearby." They had fun knowing they were making quite a sizeable impression on most folks, even though they did run into other men who were slightly to quite a bit taller, and many who were larger built. Still it surprised them that at "only" a "mere" six foot four how many men they were taller than. They spent the late morning doing some clothes and shoe shopping for Andrixos and Darien, taking a couple of pictures in garages showing how they stood as tall or almost as tall as the height restriction for occupancy. They returned to the hotel room around noon and got things unpacked and sorted, placed things they bought for lunch and dinner on the table, and slowly began to just be seated in various spots of the suit. Finally Andrixos spoke up. "Ok... I have to know, is anyone else's horniness factor up like a thousand points? I mean, I don't know about you. It was already hard getting used to having to snake my cock down my pants leg, but the rubbing that was going on, the people asking if we were parts of sports team, talking about how big and huge we were, made me want to nearly blow several times." "Yeah..." laughed Joshua. "...It does take some getting used to, but you don't really get over it. I mean, that cock is just....THERE! There's no other way to say it, and it's going to get moved and rubbed regardless." "So, how did you two...get used to it? Control it?" "How else?" said Brent as he flipped open his lap top. "We jack off." The guys proceeded to have another waking session... and then another....and another.... before actually stopping and having lunch properly. They talked about the changes in their lives between the height difference experienced by Joshua, to the new shoes needed by everyone, they moved on to some politics, favorite movies and t.v. shows, guys they thought were hot, and other things. After dinner though, they began to stroke their individual mighty meat and think about bodybuilders, strength, growing, and being hung. A few hours and several bathroom towels later, it was late into the evening again. They were set for one last load to blow and feeling of euphoria. Andrixos had called up a 3D animation, still , video on his computer.... [ (sound of hard rock playing, while a man in an olive pull over complains....) "My head! What is happening?" (He suddenly holds his stomach) "My stomach. I'm gonna.... Whaaaa!" (Suddenly the man collapses to his butt on the ground....) "Pain gone. So...horny..." (his cock suddenly inflates, but then his body becomes just as rigid...) "uh....grrr.... I can't move! ... ... ... My voice! That's not me! It's too deep..."] "Ooooh yeah.... " cried Joshua. "Get a real man's voice... deep...low....make a chest rumble when you speak..." "hmmmmm" "oooooh" "oh, yeah...." Called out his three friends. [ "What is going on? Why is this happening to me? .... .... ... What the fuck?" (Suddenly the man's chest begins to inflate, thickening, widening, barreling out with muscle.) "Grow....Grroowww Bigger. Make me bigger!"] "Yeah... grow bigger, boy... get massive like us!" called out Darien. "Bigger....'' "Stronger..." "Denser...." [ (The man stands up and then begins to arch his back.... his muscles begin to inflate filling his clothes up to their maximum capacity.) ] "Getting bigger!" called out Brent "Stronger..." "Fuller..." "Swole...." "Harder...." "Denser...." "Thicker...." "Bulging...." [(suddenly the man begins to get taller too. His pants hem riding up his shins. His shirt hem riding up his abs. His sleeves travelling up his arms. All while his muscles continue to grow and pull and stretch on his clothes....] "More massive.... huh huh ....." cried out Andrixos. "Peaks, cuts, definition....huh huh huh ...." "Bigger muscle bellies...huh huh ...denser....huh huh...muscle fibers....." "Fuller...talller...stronger....bigger....massive...huh huh huh huh ...." [ (suddenly the man's balls inflate, his dick grows longer and thicker, bursting his fly wide open. The camera backs up for all to see the man has torn his shirt wide open down the front with just his burgeoning chest, while the sleeves have been shredded by his arms...) "FUCKIN' HUGE GROWIN' FUCKIN' HUGE!!"] "Cock getting huh huh huh larger..." "Balls getting bigger....huh huh huh huh" "More cum huh huh huh swirling round and round huh huh huh inside..." "Nads producing more huh huh hormones..." "Making us grow even bigger...huh huh huh " "fuller...huh huh......LARGER!...." "Which causes them huh huh huh to gro-OW bi-HIGGER! HUH HUH HUH" [(the man now stands nude, almost in a crab or most muscular pose, the whole world to see his giant and immense height, muscular, and cock size...) "PUMP ME, MOTHER FUCKER" (His cock rises even larger to the occasion...) "OH YEAH, I'M GONNA BLOW!"] "BLOW HUH HUH OOOH AND HUH HUH GROW!" "BIGGER! HUHU HUH HUH" "STRONGER! HUH HUH HUH HOOOOO-OH!" "BROA HUH HUH HUH BROA HUH HUH BROA-DER! ER!" "TALLER! HUH HUH MUCH MORE HUH HUH TALLER!" "MORE HUNG! HUH HUH HUH HORSE HUNG!" "EVERYONE HUH HUH HUH IS GETTING SO SMALL COMPAIRED HUH HUH TO US HUHU HUH...." "NO MAN IS OUR MATCH! HUH HUH HUH HUH" "WE ARE MUS HUH HUH HU HUH HUH MUSCLE HUH GAWDS!" [ (The man begins to spew his load of hot seamen everywhere his body, cock, and balls still inflating and growing as his blowing.) "C'MON FUCKER KEEP GROWING!... .... ...GAWD! OH MY FUCKIN' GAWD! (He continues to swell and blow....)] "YES! BIGGER! STRONGER! HUH HU H HUH AIIII OOH! GAWD! I...IIIIII" Joshua bucks and humps the air as he goes into orgasmic spasms. His hand jerking towards his right. "OOOOOOOH DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN!" Brent sees Joshua's involuntary motion, but goes into orgasm as he tries to roll to his right to avoid the cum shot. Instead he rolls to the right, but his head jerks back to the left, his mouth receiving the first full blast from Joshua's skin cannon. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK AUH AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!" Darien goes into orgasm, leaning forward and screaming not aware of the trajectory Brent has just sent his load into. It makes its mark right into Darien's open scream, who then jerks back on its taste sending his spunk to the right. "YESSSS YESSSSS! GROWING BIGGER AND BIGGER! HUH HUH HUH WHOO! WHOOO'S A MUSCLE HUH HUH GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWD!" Andrixos scoots down the bed, his head collapsing into the pillow that would've received Darien's volley, but now it makes contact with Andrixos' mouth. His body convulses and twists to the left, and he has an orgasmic release that at first is all release of tension and then suddenly tightens so fast and hard, it cause his body to convulse to the left and thrust his pelvis up high. Creating an arc of spoo that goes soaring over Darien, Brent, and into panting lips of Joshua who's attempting to recover from a most powerful release. Swallowing, coughing, the four gasp and spit and swallow, trying to regain their composure and senses. Attempting to get feeling back into their feet and hands, allowing their fingers and toes to uncurl. Shivering, shaking, they pass out into a horny oblivion. ***************************************************************************** * During the night, the four men have hot and fevered dreams. Each one in their own fashion sees his self continuing to grow, to pack on muscle, to become more hung, their bodies becoming ultimate paragons of towering strength, power, and virility. All other men a small compared to them and they are shrinking by the minute. These men are becoming gods....TITANS! The same one who woke everyone yesterday will wake everyone again. He has dreamed that he has grown so big and so powerful, his pinky tow alone covers a metropolis of millions of people and their sky scrapers. A blimp too small for his eyes attempts to show him pictures of the people crowding around, rubbing, and jacking off on his feet, worshipping him madly. His cock springs into action soaring up and Up and UP! Such a massive meat monster it is it dwarfs the Empire State building by two, three, four times its size! He strokes as he pops his other arm's bicep and bounces his pecs, laughing lightly at how like fleas humankind has become to him. Suddenly he releases a load that cascades down in a deadly torrent. The first shot alone floods the city. The second takes the support or foundations out of building causing them to collapse. The third volley causes his sperm to spread out and empty into the sea or travel across plains.... Suddenly he is awake. His cock is still spewing. He tries to clear his head, knowing that the sensation is wrong due to the dream. Yet, he knows... he knows he's spewing more spoo than he did just the night before. Now... he must pee. Wincing in pain as he pulls back the sheet. He can feel the dried cum that became glue from last night, binding his skin and the sheet as one. He can still feel his cock giving up more spunk as it pools on the mattress a bit. He stumbles and fumbles his way to the bathroom, stooping a little because of how tired he is. He points his cock at the toilet and urinates, then flushes. He thinks to himself, "I should go ahead and shower, get this dried spunk off of me." It is mere moments after the shower is turned on that he yelps out in horror. His three buddies again sit up in bed and turn their attention to the bathroom. Andrixos comes to run out the door when suddenly... WHAM! His head meets the door frame. Crumpling to the floor, Andrixos nearly loses consciousness, and remains in a haphazard seated position. "Did... did... I just see that right. Standing all the way, straight up.... did....did Andrixos just bang his head on the door frame?" "Yes, Joshua, you did." Said Darien and he flung the sheets off to stand and go check on his friend." "Good lord! " cried out Brent. "Darien! Look at yourself... you're.... you're... kind of built!" "So are you!" "So are we all." said Joshua. "We're all that mildly athletic to soccer player kind of build. You know just before you begin to look like a personal trainer." Darien gave a hand out to Andrixos. "Easy does it... tilt your head forward before you come through...." "Good....night... look how his leg muscles bunch and pop as he stands....oh my gawd....." "Look at how you, Joshua, rise a tent pole in the middle of the bed!" Sure enough from seeing how built and tall they were now, Joshua had begun to develop a chub. This was eventually done, willingly or no, by Brent and Darien as well. As Brent reached over and pulled the sheet off of Joshua... he let out a yelp of fear and then began to hold and strangle his penis as though he had a monster. "My gawd! This thing is like a foot and a half long now!" "And judging by the door frame," said Brent. "We're all now six foot - ten inches tall." The four sat or stood there in silence, in the room, staring at one another.

Preface Dear muscledrain, You wanted a magic switch of brains and brawn. I could have chosen to make the protagonist a black-metal kid called Moonsorrow Bloodpain, who invoked Cthulhu,* or something similar, to facilitate the magic, but then both himself and his recently muscular friend would eventually have been eaten by unnamable and eldritch primordial spacegods* of the elder days, and – as I understood your story idea – you expected something slightly more feelgood than that. But which sort of magic would be feelgood? Classical gods from Greece and Rome transforming mortal men is a story idea already used several times over at Metabods (Dionysus and Mars, if I remember correctly), so that idea was already taken. It then struck me, that some people out there IRL believe in a sort of magic Moonsorrow Bloodpain definitely would shun: Hoodoo – which is a mix of native Congolese religion, Protestantism, Dutch folklore, Catholicism (since the 1960’s) and slight traces of renaissance esotericism. It would probably be feelgood enough. But then another dilemma emerged: Which red-blooded, sports obsessed young male in a predominantly Agnostic environment would get the idea to even ask an eccentric and mysterious hoodoo lady for help? I then realised that bodybuilding and martial arts are very popular among young Syriac men, and that they – however laddish they are indeed – often have an honest respect for the saints. I have also observed that a lot of MMA fighters like to wear rosaries. Some of my former neighbours are Syriacs – very nice and friendly people with a flair for making good food. This is the way one of the protagonists was invented. I want to thank sithspawn, CardiMuscleman, mrk78, yourself, and some others for very valuable linguistic and stylistic advice. To write in a foreign language is full of potential errors. Any remaining errors are my own fault. Just as Northern Americans (and I don’t mean Canadians and Bahamians at the moment) let their Muscle Growth Stories take place in the US (or in a fictitious country identical to the US when it comes to educational system and cultural patterns, such as sports scholarships, pompoms, American football and resident colleges), I will, as a Swede, let the following story occur in a fictitious country with an educational system and cultural patterns indistinguishable from the Swedish ones: an academic year consisting of two semesters (not three terms), no school uniforms, pupils/students living at home with their parents at least until the age of 19, mixed social backgrounds at many (but not all) schools, and Agnostics observing Christian holidays. The difference between working class and middle class is probably more subtle and fluid over here than in other parts of the world – at least that was my impression on vacation in UK and Italy. The city in the story is, however, a city that never was. It will be futile, if any other Scandinavians reading this will try to figure out exactly where the story takes place: Everywhere and nowhere. The spelling of surnames have been anglicised. That wasn’t, however, necessary with the first names, which could pass for many nationalities just as they are. Comics readers: Look out for the easter egg. I hope you will have fun! Addenda * Long after writing this introduction, I actually wrote a horror story about Lovecraftesque forgotten eldritch primordial spacegods, called Professor Schnackenburg's mistake. With a little help from magic Chapter One The cold wind pushed the red and yellow leaves over the schoolyard with a rustling sound. The sky was steel-grey and unforgiving. Inside the brick-building housing the sixth-form school, lockers were clattering, and the sound of many voices blended into a tiresome murmur. Feet swiftly hurried to lecture rooms. John had put his rucksack in his locker, and was taking his chemistry book out, when he heard a disturbingly familiar voice behind him: ’Isn’t it Swotter? Oi! Swotter, I’m speaking to you!’ The eighteen-year-old closed the locker, and tried to look in another direction. Sometimes it worked. ’Look at me, when I’m talking to you!’ A hand on his shoulder. A foot behind his heel. Suddenly, John found himself on the floor and the chemistry book a few metres to the left, between another row of lockers. It was Peter and his friends. As usual. Peter and his little crowd of followers had made primary school, secondary school and the initial two years of sixth form a living hell for John, and there was no sign that anything would change, until John left for university in another city and Peter’s gang left school, most likely in order to face unemployment. Peter put his black cowboy boot on John’s chest. Like his chums, Peter had enthusiastically embraced the 50’s revival when it became fashionable, and they all tried really hard to look like exaggerated stereotypes of 50’s rockers. Most of them wore black leather jackets, unbleached denim jeans, and white T-shirts or plaid shirts, and they had put some gunk in their hair and combed it in a 1950’s style. Unlike some of his friends, Peter hadn’t been able to afford a leather jacket, so he wore a cheap denim jacket instead, and had sewn a Confederate flag on it, in the belief that ’that was very rock’n’roll’. ’Is that an army jersey, Swotter? Considering joining the forces?’ John felt embarrassed. If he kept silent, it would just go on. If he answered, the result would be identical. ’It is a hunter’s jersey.’ ’We didn’t know you were hunting! Did we, lads?’ ’I don’t, but I take photographs of rare birds. The jersey protects from cold weather.’ ’Scared of blood, I see. It wouldn’t be a good idea to join the army then? Would it, Swotter?’ ’I said it isn’t an army jersey. Ouch!’ Peter had moved his boot to John’s Adam’s apple. ’Listen very carefully. If I were you, I wouldn’t insult our brave boys in green by wearing that jersey, whatever you call it. Now take it off!’ ’But… Ouch!’ Peter increased the pressure on John’s Adam’s apple, then removed his foot, and came closer to John, sitting in a squatting position. Peter grabbed John’s jersey, and minuscule stains of spit rained on John’s face when Peter shouted. ’Now, you little pansy, you take that jersey off – either putting it in the cafeteria dust-bin or giving it to Anderson here. He deserves it better than you. Isn’t that right Anderson?’ Anderson, a blond football player, about the same height as John, but considerably more athletic, had been a henchman of Peter for years. He had a smug grin on his face. ’And what do you think you are doing, you friggin’ racist?’ Peter and his friends had to turn around. John rose from the floor, dusted away spots of sand from his clothes, and looked for his chemistry book. The newcomer who had spoken was Simon, the tall leftie intellectual from the other science class. Peter leered at him. It seemed that he had met Simon before. ’Don’t meddle, Simon. This isn’t your concern.’ ’Sure it is. Yesterday, you and your gang bullied Aram’s little brother and neighbour. But after what I can see today, you like to bully anyone, regardless of origin. Ridiculous greasers!’ John adjusted his eyeglasses, and now saw that Simon wasn’t alone. He had brought Aram, the brawny Syriac hockey guy, and Carl, the anti-racist skinhead, with him. Although Peter and his friends outnumbered Simon and his friends with five to three, Peter sized up his opponents a few seconds. Although not very muscular (but rather on the slim side), Simon was tall, and it was well-known at the school that he had practiced kung-fu, before his deep commitment in the Anarchist Student Society, Amnesty International, the local melocore club (and a handful of other associations) had limited the time available on exercise. Two years ago, Simon and John had served together in the Student Council, and John had appreciated Simon’s wit. Carl was shorter than Simon, but taller than Aram. He spent some time at the gym, but not as strictly and devotedly as Aram obviously did. His shaved head gave him an aggressive demeanour, and that impression was enhanced by the gauge in his earlobe, his snug fitting maroon polo shirt, the blue braces that contrasted well against the maroon background, the bleached jeans, and the extremely well-polished, heavy and steel-capped boots on his feet. His black Alpha bomber jacket was covered with patches and pins: ’Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice’, ’The Oppressed’, ’The Burial’, ’Operation Ivy’, ’FC St. Pauli’. He oozed of angry adolescent masculinity. Aram was of average height, but more broad-shouldered than any of the young men. He had an innately muscular constitution, and had been in good shape already during his time in the hockey team. When he left secondary school, and began his sixth form education, he had left the hockey team in order to take up martial arts of some sort, and also joined a gym. He now looked like a bodybuilder without any body fat, and moved like a tiger: A very broad shouldered tiger. During their entire time at school, Aram had always been so absorbed by exercise, that he never noticed if bullying occurred somewhere around him. If Aram had begun to spend time with a decent guy like Simon, it was probably a step in the right direction. After eyeing his opponents, Peter ordered his crowd to leave. ’Everything alright now?’, Simon asked. ’Yes. Thank you for helping me.’ ’To be honest, it was just a coincidence, but I am glad that we could be of assistance. Aram here is beginning to develop a social conscience by hanging with me and Carl, aren’t you?’ Aram mumbled something, and looked down into the floor. ’I’m late to the student newspaper meeting. Later.’ Simon disappeared around a corner. Carl had to leave his bomber jacket in his locker, and was on his way to a math lesson, but Aram was scheduled for the same chemistry class as John. They were late. ’You both know that late arrival will affect your grades. It will perhaps not concern you very much, John, but in your case, Aram, I would be worried.’ It was Mr. Gustavson, the chemistry teacher, known for his sardonic personality, and secretly nicknamed ’Snape’ among the students. ’As I said before you arrived, you have to team up in pairs and study how a primitive form of plastic is produced. It is a very simple example of how polymers behave.’ ’It seems like we have to lab together, today’, John said shyly. Aram didn’t speak very much while he assisted John, but, despite their late arrival, they were the first among the students to achieve a nice cylinder of plastic in a test tube in the end of the lesson. That gave Aram an idea. * * * It had been a few days earlier, during the Sunday church lunch at the Orthodox church of St. James’. ’Ameen. Moryo nqabel qurbonokh, wlan n’adar bashlawothokh.’ The last prayer in the extremely ancient Aramaic-speaking Christian liturgy ended, and the congregation left the room, kissing the Gospel Book at the entrance, and receiving pieces of non-consecrated bread. There were old ladies in mantillas, old men in their three-piece Sunday best, lots of parents with children, a dark-eyed and doe-eyed girl’s choir in choir dress, and a bunch of young men slightly younger or older than Aram. The last group was the most noisy one, and the lads were joking and playing with each other. Most of them wore jeans, expensive jerseys and shirts, but a few of the oldest ones wore suits, and some of the younger ones were dressed in tracksuit pants and hoodies. Most of them were dark haired and wore a lot of hair gel, but some were buzzcut, and two of them were redheaded. Many of them wore sturdy golden chains around their necks, from which crucifixes or the Syriac nationalist symbol of a feathered archer hang. Some of the attendees immediately left the parking lot, but most stayed inside for the Sunday church lunch. A buffet was prepared: Bulgur mixed with roasted noodles, tabbouleh – a salad of parsley, couscous, tomatoes, onions, garlic, mint leaves, lemon and olive oil – and several smaller bowls filled with falafel, dolma, chickpea sauce and eggplant sauce. Aram sat down with his mother, his uncle and his aunt. His mother was putting her folded mantilla in her purse, now when she no longer stood inside the consecrated room. ’Listen Aram’, uncle Benjamin began, ’there is a thing your mother and I have been talking about.’ Uh, uh. Now it comes again. Aram felt tired of this. His uncle meant well, but it felt like he was picking on him. ’Before your father died, I promised him, that I would help you become a doctor, just like your father and your grandfather. We have talked about this before: You have to achieve better grades, otherwise you will not be able to study medicine.’ A steel grey lady in her sixties approached the table. Mother and aunt Layla rose, gathered around her, and began to discuss with her in the old language. Aram wasn’t good at the old language. He was born in the new country, and spoke its language without any accent. ’Your mother and I are worried about you. The medical trade is a family tradition, but your grades have not been good the last years.’ ’But you are not a doctor. You own a grocery shop.’ ’This discussion is not about me, young man, but about you. If you begin medical studies, I promise to help you financially, but if you don’t, you can’t expect any money from me for university.’ * * * It was a day later. Aram and his girlfriend Emma entered the room for the history lesson. ’Hi, Emelie!’, Emma shouted, and claimed a chair close to her friend Emelie. Emma and Emelie didn’t at all have the same preferences when it came to style, but were friends anyhow. Emma was a blonde young woman with black high rise slim fit jeans and a yellow top which revealed some of her cleavage. Her shoes were yellow Converse. Emelie, on the other side, had dyed her hair black, and wore a black dress with a lot of lace. Around Emelie’s neck hang several pendants of different sorts: A cross, a star of David and a pentagram. She didn’t discriminate between religions, but it was also possible that she didn’t care very much for what the symbols signified to other people. Aram looked around, and when he found that the chair close to John was empty, he sat down beside John. ’Hello again. Do you mind if i sit here?’ They both unpacked their laptops, and had to end their chat, since their history teacher, Mr. Johanson, had begun to talk. Mr. Johanson was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and didn’t have many years left until retirement. He always wore black jeans, a sleeveless pullover and a tweed jacket. Unlike the younger male teachers, who dressed less strictly, he always had a tie knit around his neck. His hair was white and slightly receding. ’The world events of the 20th century, would probably had been very different, if World War One hadn’t occurred. The stern conditions of the peace treaty of 1919, caused many Germans and Austrians to feel disproportionally and unjustly punished, and that prepared the way for Hitler and the Second World War. For the British Empire, the end of the war initiated the slow devolvement of the empire: The Irish Free State was declared in 1922, and in 1931 dominions – such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland, South Africa and the Irish Free State – were defined as ’completely self-governing’. Some sorts of constitutional reforms would probably have occurred in Russia anyhow, but not necessarily in the revolutionary Bolshevik way it now did: Don’t forget that the February Revolution in 1917 was about limiting the power of the Czar constitutionally, and preparing the way for free elections, general suffrage and civil liberties. The Bolsheviks didn’t grab the political power until October, and would probably not have reached the necessary level of initial popular support, if the Russian people hadn’t been exhausted by three years of warfare. The war also caused USA to change the way it behaved in international politics. During the 19th century the Monroe doctrine had isolated the US from international politics, but – with the exception of the Philippine-American War about a decade before World War One – the US had until then avoided entanglement in any conflict far beyond its own borders. From a certain point of view, the Philippine-American War and World War One, became templates for what later happened in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The history of the 20th century is impossible to understand without World War One as the background. When we now begin to look closer…’ John felt good sitting so close to the big and warm lump of muscles. John hadn’t thought much about it before, but became now aware of the warm brown colour of Aram’s eyes, like brown gemstones reflecting a golden light. Aram emitted a nice scent of some sort of anti-perspirant, but probably not an expensive one. The presence of Aram made him feel comforted and protected. Aram had never or seldom preferred to sit beside John before, so this was something new. The lesson had ended. ’John, you are really smart. Would you possibly help me with homework? I want to get better test results, and who better than you?’ ’We could have begun this years ago, if you just had asked. Which day would be best for you? I often go by bus to Willow Lake in Thursdays. Wildlife photography, you know. And I suppose you exercise very often. Which day would be best for you?’ They agreed to keep Tuesdays open for study together. Emma approached them. ’You must hear this, Aram! Emelie has found such a cute shop with books and magic candles and stuff, and I could probably have my horoscope done. Isn’t it amazing? You must follow me and Emelie to that shop after school!’ * * * The following afternoon, Emelie, Emma and Aram got on the tram, and went to a picturesque part of the city Aram seldom visited. They left the tram at a stop just outside a Neo-gothic church building called Holy Trinity, and then followed a narrow and meandering, cobblestone paved alley on their way to the shop Emelie had mentioned. The houses were small and old here, but some of them seemed to have been restored recently, as an effect of ongoing gentrification. Withered roses and dark green ivy covered some of the exteriors. They passed by a tailor’s shop, a vegetarian restaurant, a dentist’s clinic and a former – now closed – bicycle workshop. A few of the buildings seemed to have been turned into homes very recently – which was easily recognised through the fresh plaster in yellow, lavender or dove blue colours, but other buildings were still shabby, some of them derelict. ’Here it is.’, Emelie announced. Aram got a first impression of the shop. He had definitely not seen it before. Grey stairs of stone led downwards to a door under street level. Two rather small shop-windows before his knees announced: Madame Cremorna. Books. Herbs. Readings. It felt a little bit spooky, but Emelie enthusiastically led them downstairs, and opened the door. A bell tinkled. The first thing that he noticed was the scent. The fragrance of many sorts of herbs and incenses mixed with each other. He felt awkward again. This wasn’t the sort of place a masculine guy like himself was expected to frequent. Wasn’t there something slightly feminine or gay about this scent? He considered to leave immediately, but that could make Emma mad at him. He didn’t want that. The second thing he noticed was the broad mix of things in the room. This was not just a book shop. The books were there, for sure – he saw a rotating stand with them: How To Earn Money By Positive Thinking. The Dolphins Speak: Telepathic Messages From Our Cousins In The Sea. The New Age Of The Flying Saucers. It could have been an ordinary New Age shop, but he could also see tin boxes with herbs, packets of soap or dry foodstuff with Spanish labels, shelves with incense sticks and small jars with the sort of incense grains he was able to recognise from church. His association to church was increased, when he found shelves carrying a large number of glass encased novena candles with stickers depicting saints. Some of them he could recognise, but, with his family background, he was more familiar with Eastern saints than Western, and the identity of some Western saints on the candles were undecipherable. The cash register stood upon a glass desk. Inside the desk he could see decks of cards in many shapes. He hadn’t seen any cards like these before. ’How do you play poker with these?’, he asked Emelie. ’They are not for poker, stupid.’, she answered, ’They are divination decks, for reading the future’. ’I am not sure I believe in that.’, Aram replied. Just now he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed. There was an eerie feeling in the shop. He wanted to get out. ’You are free to believe in anything you want. We are all responsible for how we use our freedom, and it is unwise to go against your own conscience.’ The alto voice vibrated with a rich timbre. It belonged to a woman in her early sixties. She had probably looked good during her younger days, and she obviously still cared about her appearance. Her hair was black, without any traces of silver in it yet, and she was dressed in a rust-coloured dress and a dark grey vest of wool. Around her neck hang a tin pendant depicting a very complicated geometrical pattern. In her younger days, she could have been a hippie. ’I’m sorry lady, but I can’t believe in telepathic dolphins and flying saucers.’ Aram waved in the direction of the rotating book stand. ’To be honest, I am not at all impressed by these books myself, but some of my customers ask for them, so I sell them. It pays the rent.’ There was a slight, possibly American-English, accent when she spoke, but very faint. ’So you don’t believe in the supernatural, yourself?’ ’Oh. I do! But that depends on what you call supernatural. If you mean telepathic dolphins, saucers, physical trolls or god-kings inside a hollow Earth, I do not believe in the supernatural.’ Emelie was studying the card decks inside the glass desk, but Emma stood by Aram’s side, hugging his arm. ’You are into sports, I suppose?’, the shop keeper asked him. ’Aram was a hockey player for many years.’, Emma answered proudly. ’And now I work out and practice martial arts.’, Aram continued. ’Then the psychology of sport can’t be unknown for you.’, Madame Cremorna said, ’And you surely must have experienced, how your own mind affects your physical achievements?’ ’Well. Yes. But that’s not supernatural.’ ’It is anyhow a part of scientific reality which borders to the supernatural – that is, supernatural in the sense I use the word.’ Aram was on his way to answer, but the shop keeper continued: ’And you belong perhaps to the Assyrian Church?’ Aram smiled: ’Close enough, but you were wrong there: I belong to the Syriac Orthodox Church. The Assyrians are our cousins.’ ’And you believe in God? And in angels? And in saints?’ ’Well. Yes, I do.’ ’The supernatural I believe in is about God, about angels, about saints, but also about sports psychology. It is admittedly not a complete description of what I do – far from it – but it seems like we are able to agree about a major part of it, anyhow.’ She was silent a few seconds. ’And what are you looking for? Books? Devotionals? Cards? A horoscope? Or do you want me to use magic for some purpose?’ ’We are just looking. Emelie told us about your shop, and it is just adorable’, Emma answered, ’but it looks much more Catholic than the other New Age shop on the other side the canal.’ Madame Cremorna smiled. ’It’s perhaps because it is not a New Age shop. Not in the general sense. It is inspired by botanicas of the sort common in Florida, where I grew up. We had a lot of Cubans and Puertoricans there.’ ’Have you lived in this part of the world for a long time?’ ’Quite a long time. Yes. My former boyfriend thought it was a good idea to move to Northern Europe a few years before the end of the Vietnam War.’ Emma continued to chat with the shop keeper for several minutes. Emelie still looked at the decks. Aram began to wander around in the shop. A square diagram with twenty-three arcane symbols hang on a wall. Bookshelves contained titles such as Three Books on Occult Philosophy, The Enchiridion, Selected prayers by Allan Kardec, and The Long-Lost Friend. A burgundy-coloured curtain covered door opening to an inner room. Curiously, Aram peeked inside. Several small tables were pushed up against the walls, covered with cloths in different colours. Candles were lit, scented in several different ways. The air was sweet and heavy. ’Uh oh. The inner sanctum is only open for some customers.’, Madame Cremorna said, where she stood behind his back. Aram blushed. ’I didn’t mean to do something wrong. Sorry, lady.’ When they left the shop, Emelie brought a recently bought tarot deck, and Emma carried a folder with her personal horoscope. * * * It was two days later. The bell tinkled in the usual way, when the door to the shop opened and closed. ’And what do you want, young man?’, she asked. ’I haven’t done well in my exams. I want to be sure my grades are good when I finish Sixth Form.’, Aram said. ’And when is that? If I hadn’t first met you with that young gothic girl and her friend, I would have guessed that you were older than a Sixth Form student.’ She eyed him knowingly. ’The last semester ends in June next year.’ Her face expressed mixed emotions: Pity, astonishment and a slight amount of aunt-like cunningness. ’Magic works normally through natural means, and natural means works slowly. A lesser working could have been enough, if you had asked me a year ago, and backed the magic up with real effort in class. But now, with just eight months…’ She didn’t end her sentence. There was a sad expression in Aram’s eyes, reminiscent of a very large, but very young and sad, puppy. The element of pity in Madame Cremorna’s eyes became more prominent. ’Let us discuss natural means first. You would probably learn more, if you do homework together with someone in your class, who’s got a talent for study.’ ’I already do.’ Aram told Madame Cremorna all about John. ’You have got a good new friend in him. Be nice to him.’, Madame Cremorna said. ’Homework with John helps, but not enough, and not fast enough. And I wish I could make mother and my uncle proud. But if you can’t help me…’ ’If something of what I do works, it is not because I have helped you, but because God has answered the prayers of several beings. Some call it magic, but ultimately all things and events comes from The Supreme Being anyhow. The ways and the means and the chains of events may vary, however. Or so is the way I see it.’ ’But you said, that I should have asked a year ago?’ ’I said, that a lesser working could have been enough then. With only eight months until graduation, I have to do a greater working, but only if you are ready to pay the price.’ ’I don’t own very much, but…’ ’I don’t talk about money. I talk about the willingness to choose talent for study before anything else. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I will give you a reading.’ ’A reading?’ ’Just relax.’ She opened a purple bag of velvet, laid a pack of cards on the table, and mumbled a prayer. Aram couldn’t hear the words. She let him shuffle the cards, and then put three cards on the table cloth. The first card depicted a knight in armour, sitting on a horse. The second card depicted an old man with a beard, clothed in some sort of mediaeval brown gown, holding a staff with a snake – similar to the symbol sometimes used by hospitals and chemists – and holding a lantern in the other hand. By his feet lay a scythe and a hourglass. Far away, the presence of an owl could be distantly hinted at. The third card depicted a young man in renaissance clothes, carrying a round plate, smaller than a shield, but larger than a coin. From his bag a scroll and a quill pen peeked out. ’Hmm…’ Madame Cremorna didn’t say much for a while. Suddenly, she gathered all the cards into the deck again, and began shuffling. She laid the deck on the cloth, and pushed it over the table. ’Here. Shuffle, and think intensely about your friend John.’ Aram did what he was told to do, and gave her the deck again. ’That was all for today. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I will tell you if I have found a way to help you.’ Aram felt a little bit disappointed. It had been stupid of him to come here, to begin with. He shrugged and left. When he had left, Madame Cremorna again lay three cards on the table. She was rather surprised to find the knight and the squire from the last reading come up again, but this time with reversed places: The squire with the plate to the left, and the knight with a sword to the right. The card in the middle was not the same. Where the card with the old bearded man had laid a few minutes ago, now lay a card depicting a half naked and extremely muscular man clothed in the skin rug of a lion. He had left his heavy club on the ground, and was breaking a stone pillar in two halves. Madame Cremorna remained almost expressionless, but one of her eyebrows twitched. She had got an idea. When Aram returned the next afternoon, he expected bad news. The shop keeper seemed, however, to be in a good mood, although perhaps mixed with an amount of harshness. She put two class encased candles on the desk. ’You are young. I will not let you pay the full price I charge an adult with full time salary. But you must be aware of the consequences of your request. Are you willing to let your friend become less talented, while you increase your own study results?’ ’Isn’t that black magic?’ Aram felt a chill on his back. He would probably not have asked for this, to begin with. ’I never accept black workings. I accept grey ones, however. Most human wishes rests in the grey area. The born-again nonconformist who prays to God for promotion at work, the churchman praying for a happy marriage, the white light Neo-pagan sending away a spell for fair weather at the picnic – all their wishes are tainted by a certain amount of selfishness. And so is yours. All of them are mixed with good intentions. And so is yours.’ ’But I can’t rob John of his intelligence. It is not fair.’ ’That depends. A greater working will affect reality on a deeper plane. In a sense, you will have switched – or better, mixed – destinies with each other. I have tried to conjure good destines over both of you, but you will still have to pay the price of tampering with destinies.’ ’Not my soul?’, Aram asked bleakly. ’Then I refuse.’ ’No, not your soul. I do not dabble in diabolism. Actually, I have fought against the minions of darkness on several occasions. But a greater working, affecting the threads of destiny, will take its toll from the one who ordered it, quite soon after the commencement. We are all responsible for our actions. Do you really want a talent for study?’ The question hung in the air for a moment. It cannot have been for a longer time than a second or two, but for Aram it felt like time stood still, like if a gigantic pendulum in an ancient clockwork was swinging over his head. It was still time to thank her for her willingness to help, but refuse to go further. ’Yes. I really want it. Just be sure that John will be happy.’ ’No-one can be one hundred percent sure, but I have reason to believe that he will enjoy the turn of events that will unfold, as well.’ ’Ooo-key? Well, then I suppose there will be no problem? What are the candles for?’ She pointed at one of the candles. It had a card on it, depicting a man in a bishop’s mitre, writing on parchment with a quill. He was surrounded by bookshelves. ’This is St. Isidore of Seville. You will take this home, and burn it nine consecutive Wednesdays until it is all burned away. St. Isidore wrote one of the first encyclopaedias in the world, and was recently designated the patron saint of internet.’ She pointed at the other candle. The card on it depicted a broad shouldered and bearded giant carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulder. ’This is St. Christopher. In the legend he was a giant who converted to Christianity. In reality, we don’t know very much about him, but the moral of the legend is edifying anyhow.’ ’What am I supposed to do with that candle?’ ’Give it to your friend John. If he don’t want to burn it every day or night, let him burn it whenever he likes. Tuesdays would be good, however.’ * * * It was Tuesday again. According to their new habit, John was helping Aram to study. ’And what am I supposed to do with this?’, John asked, curiously holding the glass encased prayer candle. ’You know that I am an Agnostic, don’t you?’ ’Some people burn it because they like how it looks or because they like the scent. It is just one month left until Advent, isn’t it?’ Shall I tell him about it? Aram thought intensely, and felt divided. To tell him the truth. But if he became angry and refused to help anymore at study time together? John was helpful. It would be awful if something terrible happened to him. But Madame Cremorna had said that he would enjoy what was happening, whatever that was. ’But isn’t it a little bit girlish, don’t you think?’ ’Not among my relatives. It is quite common that lads wear saint pendants, for instance.’ ’Yes. Now when you mention it, I have seen some of your martial art friends wearing rosaries, and I can’t accuse them for being girlish.’ The tension disappeared when Aram began to laugh. ’No, you can’t. At least not if you don’t take into account the time they spend in the bathroom, but so do I.’ ’Well, just as a sign of my gratitude for your gesture…’ John lit the candle, and then changed the subject. ’I have been thinking’, John said, ’about exercise.’ Aram was relieved that the subject had changed: ’What about exercise? You may be good at integral calculus and derivate – I have problem understanding what the bloody words mean – but I know a lot about exercise. Ask whatever you wish.’ ’To be honest: I think it is rather – ehrm.’ John’s cheeks and ears became more red than usual. ’I mean, I think it is cool to have muscles, even if it is hard to admit.’ ’It is not something to be shy about, little buddy. Many men like to be beefy. I guess most men would like to be built, even if not everyone like to admit it. Could you imagine Snape lifting weights?’ It was not only Aram’s joke about the acerbic chemistry teacher, but also his facial expression, which helped John to explode with laughter. It also shattered John’s embarrassment. ’Could you teach me how to work out at the gym, if I help you with homework?’ ’Fair enough. I sometimes feel stupid with you. At the gym I will be the teacher.’ Aram proudly flexed his right biceps, and felt cocky when he saw how John’s eyes involuntarily became wider. ’You like what you see?’ John suddenly looked shy again. Aram felt protective. John was so short and thin. ’Want to feel that bicep? Don’t be afraid. I’m not teasing you. It is fun for me to show my results.’ Shyly, John laid his palm over Aram’s biceps, and pressed carefully. ’Harder!’, Aram encouraged. John pressed harder. Aram’s biceps was of the size and density of a croquet-ball, and it rested on a really big triceps. John felt awkward again. His dick was growing and hardening. He sat down on the bed, and hoped that Aram hadn’t noticed. ’Which gym would be good for me?’ ’Why don’t you follow me to the one I workout at?’ ’Aren’t there a lot of big guys there? And doesn’t Peter and his crew hang out there?’ ’Peter is lazy at the gym, and I haven’t seen any of his friends there. Anderson is preoccupied with football, and the others spend their time with driving lessons, booze and grass. They aren’t very healthy, if you ask me. And I will be with you there. If Peter mess with you, I will have a serious conversation with him. He better stay away. The big guys at the gym are alright. Some of them like to give advice. Carl would probably join us at some times.’ * * * John stood before the desk at the gym, and felt shy. A very fit, but not gigantic, trainer manned the desk, dressed in a snug red T-shirt with the gym’s logotype on its chest. ’I’m waiting for a friend.’, John explained apologetically. He peeked into a folder about prices, and found a one-year membership mandatory. In September next year, he would most probably study at university in another city, and the last two months of a one-year membership would be wasted. Aram came in through the door, and began discussing membership and prices with the trainer and John, and, as a result, John got a deal, which meant, that he only had to pay for ten months. They entered the locker room, changed clothes, and Aram began to introduce John to the machines and weightroom. ’For anyone experienced, free weights are more important than machines. For a beginner, machines may have a purpose, especially for avoiding injuries. Look, for instance, on this one…’ One and a half hour later, John laid on the floor in the locker room. He had Aram’s towel under his head, and rested his legs on a bench, in order to let blood return to his head. He dripped of sweat, and felt nauseous. Aram returned from the loo with a paper towel dipped in cold water, and laid it on John’s forehead. ’I am sorry little buddy. I didn’t know where your limits were. I didn’t mean to exhaust you that much the first time.’ ’It’s not your fault. How could you know?’ * * * John and Aram had developed a habit of visiting Carl’s family on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Carl often spent Fridays and Saturdays with a bunch of SHARPs from the other side of the city, but Sundays were an opportunity for them to meet outside the gym and watch films together in Carl’s room. They all sat on Carl’s bed, with their backs against the wall. They had watched ’Captain America’ and ’Elysium’, and were now halfway into the Dwayne Johnson version of ’Hercules’. ’Look at all that muscle!’, Carl exclaimed impressed, for the third time during the evening. Aram poked him with his elbow: ’Do you know how gay you sound, Carl?’ ’Who you calling gay?’, Carl answered, and threw himself over Aram, playfully and boisterously tickling him. John bounced up in the air before landing back on the bedspread, but Aram and Carl fell to the floor, laughing and wrestling. It ended with Aram sitting on Carl’s back, holding his arm at an uncomfortable angle. * * * ’Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Will you eat dinner with the entire family?’, John’s mother – who worked with care of aged people – asked him the day before Halloween. ’I will stay home on All Saints, but Emelie has invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow night.’, John answered. ’I’m glad that you leave home more often, nowadays. But you know what grandmother will say.’ ’That borrowings of ghosts and pumpkins from the Americans will commercialise and destroy any decorous celebration of All Saints.’ John and his mother looked silently at each other with giddy looks, and both said in unison: ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ They laughed. John’s grandmother was not a particularly religious person, and, just as most of their relatives, she unreflectedly mixed Agnosticism with Lutheran Christianity, but she was fond of family traditions, and decorated her home zealously at Advent, Christmas, Easter, May Day and Midsummer, just as she had done as a young Mum in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners when summer turned into autumn. The recent introduction of masquerades at Halloween hadn’t found any approval from the old lady, since she thought that such merriment would distract from the solemn commemoration of the departed. She had decorated her own parents’ tomb today, before travelling to her only daughter and her family. Unlike most persons of her grandchildrens’ generation, his grandmother celebrated her nameday, and since her name was Inga-Birgitta, she celebrated both the seventh and the twenty-fifth of October. While Aram, Carl and John lived in council flats in grey five-storied concrete buildings built in the 1970’s (and Peter lived in a council flat from the late 1950s), Simon, Emma and Emelie lived in a residential garden suburb nearby, where hedges and fences kept one-family houses of mixed age (some of them as old as the 1920’s) apart. A very busy road marked the border between the two areas, but narrow asphalt-coated paths, for bicycles and pedestrians, ran in graffiti-painted tunnels under the road at two different points, connecting these two areas. John met Aram and Carl close to the nearby tunnel. John was dressed in a black suit he had bought half a year ago, when he attended the Confirmation of a cousin. John had put white theatre grease-paint in his face, and fastened vampire teeth on his eye-teeth. ’Greetings, children of the night!’ Aram and Carl smiled. Carl was dressed in camo trousers, but wore the same boots as usual. He was dressed in a black NATO jersey and some sort of combat harness. ’What is that supposed to mean, besides a soldier in general?’ ’Don’t you see? I’m G.I. Joe!’ ’I didn’t watch that film.’ ’You didn’t? It’s awesome! Let’s watch it on Sunday!’ Aram was green painted in his face, and dressed in a thick woolen overcoat. ’And you? That isn’t obvious… unless…’ Aram opened his coat. He didn’t wear any shirt, despite the cold autumnal weather. His entire torso was painted in bright green, and his trousers were purple. ’That’s hilarious! The Hulk! And it is convincing, too.’ ’You are much better than me with words, but I thank you for the compliments.’ ’Than I am’, John absentmindedly corrected Aram. The night was cold and filled with mist, but they found Emelie’s house without any problems. The house was full of very young adults, and it turned out that Emelie’s parents attended a dinner somewhere else that evening. The night went on rather well. The punchbowl probably contained something persons of their age weren’t officially supposed to drink for another two years, but, since the girls in Emelie’s circle of friends were well-behaved, and since most of the boys didn’t want to spoil the hard earned results of their physical exercise, utterly few of them drank too much. Emelie wasn’t known for having patience with fools, and had planned her guest list carefully, weeding out known drunkards. Parties with her classmates and parallel classes were otherwise known to be rather wet. Emelie had succeeded in her attempt to look like Morticia Adams. Emma was clothed in a furry pink rabbit suit, and only her face was visible. Several of the girls were dressed for an ordinary party, and qualified for a masquerade just by wearing pointy witches’ hats. John wasn’t the only vampire among the young men. A few of the guest looked like characters from animes or computer games. Emma seemed disappointed of Emelie’s choice of music: ’Emelie! Now we have listened to Fields of the Nephilim for half an hour. Don’t you have any tunes by Justin Bieber or One Direction?’ ’Are you kidding? Personally, I think it would spoil the Halloween mood, but if you wish to log into your own Spotify account, you are welcome to do so. You know where the computer is, but don’t expect me to tolerate your unbearable music for very long.’ On his way home, John felt awkward and slightly flattered. One of the lightbulbs had broken, and Emelie suffered from dizziness. She had asked John for help. When he stood at a chair, changing the lightbulb, his shirt had left the inside of his trousers and revealed his belly. Emelie had began to giggle nervously, and called after Emma. John didn’t understand why, and felt insulted. ’Please, John. Show us your abs again.’ ’My abs? What are you talking about? You know that I don’t…’ Giggling, Emelie had pinched the shirt fabric and revealed his abs again. His abs? He didn’t… He DID? ’Cool’, Emma said. ’Exercise suits you.’ * * * An Advent wreath stood on the kitchen table, burning with two lit candles and two unlit ones. It was dark outside the window, and, since the first snow had melted away, there was nothing to lighten the winter night up. John stood at a kitchen desk, taking notes of how much various foodstuffs weighed. That would simplify the composition of gym friendly recipes in the future. His mother entered the kitchen, and began to heat a small amount of mulled wine on the electric stove. ’I received phone calls from your chemistry teacher and your biology teacher today. Your physics teacher called yesterday.’ ’Yes?’ ’They are worried about you. Since you started two and a half year ago, they have regarded you as very talented in natural science, but recently your results have deteriorated. They wanted me to talk to you about it.’ ’Nothing is wrong. I just performed unusually bad in a couple of tests the last weeks.’ The mulled wine had reached a desired temperature. She poured some of the content in a mug. ’Do you want some? It is the soft drink version, so you don’t have to worry. It’s cold outside, so I needed something to drive away the chill in my bones.’ ’No, thanks. I avoid sugar as well.’ ’John, I don’t disapprove that you exercise. It seems to be healthy for you, and I am happy that you have a lot more friends now than you had before. But don’t you think you take it a little too far? Why don’t you play floorball or badminton, or jog or swim, or any other more normal sport? It can’t be good for you, to be so obsessed with what you eat. Are you going to eat like that way during Christmas as well? What will grandmother say?’ ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ ’This is not something to joke about. I’m afraid that your exercise will affect your school results. And I have read about body dysmorphia and eating disorders in the newspapers. Don’t you understand that I am worried about you? What will happen to your plans to become a physician, a biochemist or a physicist, if you let exercise distract you from studies?’ ’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!’, John shouted, left the kitchen, took his training bag and closed the door with a bang. His teenage anger went rampant through his mind and body: Thoughts going in a loop, his emotions boiling, his blood pressure pounding, his body temperature steaming. He loosened the wooly scarf and opened the closed zipper of his large jacket. The staff had left the gym, and the doors were closed, but members were given a key tag that unlocked the door at night. The scent of steel corroding under the influence of sweat. The scent of rubber mats. Furiously, he worked out in the almost empty gym: Only two or three other members exercised this late. It felt much better afterwards. The machines, the barbells, the dumbbells: They had helped him to release his irritation, and he now felt calm, content and harmonious. Freshly showered. Meanwhile he had been indoors at the gym, the temperature had dropped, and it had began to snow. The chill had some bite. On his way home, he unexpectedly met Carl, who was on his way home from something else: It had something to do with music. They talked. About parents and other things. Carl. Reliable Carl: Hard as nails, incredibly funny, and a kind friend to his friends. ’Ah. Come here, mate. It will be better tomorrow.’ They exchanged a hug. A brotherly hug. A rather long brotherly hug. Carl’s polo shirt was warm of his body heat. Carl’s glistening, black synthetic bomber jacket was cold of the winter temperatures. The scents from their different anti-perspirants mixed in the cool night air. A brotherly hug. Carl patted John at the back. ’It will probably be better tomorrow.’ * * * Emma sat in her sofa. Aram sat in the same armchair he had sat so many times before. A lit Advent star hung in the window, and spread a soft glow in the living room. From windows on the other side the street other electric Advent stars shone back. Emma was finishing her explanation: ’It isn’t you, it is me. I am not able to appreciate what you speak about. I miss the old Aram from when we first met: My teddy bear. My kind puppy with hockey butt. I am not interested in nuclear science, new medicines or what’s going on in parts of the world I don’t even know where they are. We have nothing in common anymore, if we ever had. I’m sorry. I like you as a friend, but …’ Her lip began to tremble. Aram hug her sadly, carefully and more softly than usual. ’I’m sorry, but I suppose that I understand…’ * * * Madame Cremorna had closed her shop at 7 p.m. as usual. Since the supermarkets kept open until 9 or 10 p.m. she had lots of time to buy the food and Christmas decorations necessary. She returned to her shop, in order to do some work. Supernatural work. She lived in an old-fashioned flat upstairs, which she had bought several years ago, before the prices had begun to rise ridiculously. Her phone rang. ’Madame Cremorna. … O hello Stephen! How is life in New York? I don’t even know what time it is in your time zone. … It is? … Aha. … A disturbance? … Oh, yes, I am up to a major working, but it is far from world-shattering, you know. Professional secrecy, so I can’t say anything, but I can assure you that it is just about the private life of two persons and their surroundings. It is not like I am about to open a gate for Dormammu or Nergal, if you know my drift. … Not funny? I see. … You are? London? Why? … But what brings you and John to this corner of the world? … No? You are kidding? … Yes, of course. Do you have any dietary restrictions before that working? … No. … No, it is no problem at all: I have a lot of vegetarian Christmas dishes. … Pardon? … No, it doesn’t surprise me that John isn’t picky. If he would like it, I could probably find a christmas pudding and a turkey for him God knows where, but you have to know that the locals prefer ham, meatballs, cabbage and vanilla rice pudding at this time of the year. And herring. Lots of herring. Remind me to put an ash tray in my living room while you stay. … Oh yes. … No, no problem at all. Take care, and give me a call when you think you will stop by.’ She hang up and washed her hands, first in running water and a non-perfumed soap, then in Florida Water. She sprinkled herself with holy water, went before her private shrine and lit both the altar candles and the incense. The air in the room felt thicker now, and the room felt connected to the rest of the world and to the unseen aspects of reality. Her highly trained senses could feel the presence of God, of spirits of many sorts, and of unseen subtle influences stretching themselves out from the room as a cobweb of spiritual light. ’Almighty and everlasting God, who harkened to the prayers of Moses in the wilderness, when he, assisted of Aaron and Hur, prayed for victory against the Amalekites, hear me…’ After a long prayer she stretched her hands out over fragments of candle wax she had removed from a candle, in order to fill it with scented oil. ’O God of my fathers, and Lord of Mercy, who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom, that he should have dominion over the creatures which thou hast made, and order the world according to equity and righteousness, and execute judgment with an upright heart: Give me wisdom, that sitteth by thy throne; and reject me not from among thy children…’ Then she did the same to fragments from another candle: ’It is God, that girdeth me with strength of war: and maketh my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts’ feet: and setteth me up on high. He teacheth mine hands to fight: and mine arms shall break even a bow of steel…’ She had repeated this for weeks now. Divine Spirit was answering. The wheels of the invisible and incomprehensible world machinery turned, and unseen chains of causes and effects slowly turned the former reality into something slightly, slightly different. * * * Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/

The Introduction Nathan needed to get up for the day, but was already 30 minutes behind when he looked over at his bedside table as the alarm keeps ringing incessantly. The job he accepted just a few weeks before was very important to him but it also required him to travel all over the country for different contracts. He sells experimental drugs to medical research companies that have locations throughout the US. As he races out his apartment door, he manages to get into a taxi and arrives at the airport just barely on time. He had to skip shaving and grabbed a protein bar on his way there at a convenience store. Normally, Nathan works out when he is not on business trips which usually happens about twice a week. He wished that he had time to get a chest workout in but had to skip the gym this time because it was considered top priority. He boards the plane as soon as he gets there and tries not to get too mad at himself since it seemed like time was going too fast. He lands in Washington State a few hours later in a place he has never been to before. The address he was given by his supervisor was located about two blocks from the airport which seemed rather odd to him for some reason. He noticed where the facility was when he got into the taxi at the airport. He thought maybe he could have walked there, but he would have had to go to the hotel first anyway. He quickly dropped off his luggage there, changed into his nice work clothes, and grabbed his briefcase which contains the drugs he plans on selling to his client. He arrives at the facility and is immediately met by two very large men who recognize the briefcase he is carrying. He is directed into a lab area where a technician awaits. The tech takes the case from him and places it on one of the metal tables they are working at. They open it up and start examining the contents of the drug vials. The tech then motions for the two large men to grab Nathan by the arms and place him into a chair located behind the door to the lab. Nathan tries to fight to get away from them but is unsuccessful as the tech fills a syringe full of the drug and plunges it into his neck. He can feel it moving through his body as he begins to convulse violently. He can feel his body warming up quite rapidly and can’t control what is starting to happen to him. The two men holding him down can feel Nathan’s body reacting to the serum as both look up at the tech and look quite fearful. The tech smiles at them before racing out of the room with the briefcase in their possession. The veins in Nathan’s arms start to grow as well as the muscles just beneath them. His eyes turn almost entirely white as he watches his forearms swelling and lifting both of the big guys’ hands off his arms and the chair. He can hear the sounds of seams being stretched to their limits as the fabric strains under the weight of his swelling mounds of flesh. Both men press down harder on Nathan as their muscles bulge through their tight shirts. He feels his abs starting to press through his tight shirt as his pecs push the fabric even tighter as they attempt to free themselves. His anguish is becoming clear as the pain cascades through his body. His legs are swelling to the point that his trousers are now making loud creaking sounds. He screams in pain as his voice gets much deeper. He can feel his neck muscles swelling as they push themselves outward from the general area of his neck. The veins in his arms protrude as his biceps and triceps rip through the fabric in his shirt as the seams on his jacket slowly split open. His shirt underneath his jacket loses its battle and shreds open revealing his wide chest as his pec shelf continues to spread. His abs split a few times before thickening up into a bloated eight back. He can feel his trousers splitting open now as his quads spill out the sides and continue growing. His calves rip the lower half of his pants completely open. He involuntarily flexes his lats which push up against the chair as the entire back of his jacket rips off of him. It is impossible now for the big men to hold him down as he pushes them off of him and goes rushing out the lab door and bursts through the front lobby door into the street. He is now only wear his boxers which struggle to contain the immense package and huge bubble butt which hugs his backside. He is dazed and confused as he looks down at his body with bewilderment. Did these drugs do this to him? He was in decent shape to begin with, but his new size makes him feel so different. He wonders if this is permanent or temporary. He races down the street, gets into the hotel he is staying at, and races past the lobby and into his room. He gazes into the mirror in front of his bed and stares at his body while rubbing it down with his hands. He likes what he sees, but is still uncomfortable with this foreign substance swimming around inside him. He begins to think about the company he works for and wonders what exactly they needed him for in the first place. He has never actually met anyone from the company and is beginning to think that they set him up for whatever experiment this is. The Drug Company A company executive walks into the boardroom and hands the CEO a document. The CEO smiles and immediately tells the executive to leave the room. He pushes a button and a screen pops up from behind a wall across the room. When a connection is made, a man shows up on the screen and says to the CEO, ‘I suppose we have a match now otherwise you would not have contacted me right?’ The CEO grins and says, ‘the experiment is indeed a success and we will pick him up as soon as possible.’ His smile is unusual because he has two very long fangs that stretch down from the top of his mouth while there are two other smaller ones that on the bottom canines. The other man exclaims, ‘you have done well Domino, the royal clan will be pleased to see if this one will progress beyond the ones we already have.’ The connection is then ended and the screen disappears behind the wall once again. The CEO stands up and walks over to a corner window behind him. He looks up at the sky and looks directly at the full moon in between the stars. He knows that it is just a matter of time before he gets close to another howling cycle. Before he decides to just let it take him over, he hears a familiar voice getting closer to him. ‘Sir? I’m not interrupting you am I?’ Domino turns around to see who exactly is trying to get his attention. He seems a bit out of sorts, but knows that he can’t hold back what is going to happen to him. The other man comes up behind him and starts rubbing the thick brown fur on the CEO’s face. The well-dressed man feels himself calming down a bit from the light petting he is receiving. ‘Mmmm Valentin, I am glad you are here baby. I was about to let him take over when you came in. I know how much you revel in my wilder side.’ ‘Indeed sir. It amazes me how you can control him. I know you feel so good inside me when you become him.’ Valentin stops rubbing his face so Domino can return to focusing on his transformation. A couple of pops resonate from the man’s body as his lover runs his hands up and down the man’s shirt feeling his body starting to heat up. A few growls rumbling from the CEO’s throat as he feels the beast being summoned from within. ‘Val…..baby, it always makes me nervous when we do this. I really have to concentrate like hell to control him you know. He just wants to rip you to shreds most of the time, well….. until I am inside you.’ ‘I know sir, I can’t help myself though. *starts pulling his pants down and takes his shirt off* I love the beast as much as I love you Domino. He remembers who I am now so I am not worried about it anymore.’ The CEO’s body shakes wildly as he feels the body hair thickening up on his skin. The sweat cascades down his body as his legs begin cracking, making him fall to the ground. Valentin moves back a bit to watch his lover go through his metamorphosis. Domino agonizes as he feels his legs reforming as his feet lose their shape with his emerging paws and claws. The dress shoes he is wearing fall apart as thicker striated muscles start growing up along his hairy paws and hind legs. Val strokes his cock seeing the CEO’s legs swelling and stretching his pants to their limits before blasting through the seams revealing massively muscled furry quads that have retained a humanlike appearance. The changes are moving into Domino’s crotch making him groan deeply as he feels his cock transforming. A jet of blood goes flying into the air from below his tailbone as a tail emerges from his lower back. His ass bursts through the back of his pants before it is completely enveloped in a thick forest of fur. His anus pulses rapidly which draws Valentin straight to it. He knows the risks but doesn’t care as he gets down on his knees and plunges his tongue directly inside the swollen hole. The emerging wolf immediately tries to reach around to grab him but misses. Valentin jumps back and yells in fright for a few seconds. The wolfy side of Domino is taking over now as his chest and arms stretch his shirt to its limits. His back cracks multiple times as it appears his back is growing longer than before. His cock has grown a huge sheath over top of the human cock he still possesses. Val moans seeing it drool pre down Domino’s bloated wolfy legs. The loud growls from him would normally serve as a warning, but the love struck human wants him so badly that he is willing to take the risk once again. Finally, the CEO’s shirt rips in half as the heavily muscled wolfman’s chest appears. His arms pulse with newly grown muscle as his face struggles to maintain its shape. A few cracks are heard from within his skull as a muzzle forms while two ears emerge from his head. Several pools of blood form beside him as his human face falls off revealing the wolf that was hidden inside. He growls at Valentin and shows him his newly formed claws and paws on what were Domino’s hands. ‘Domino…..I love you sir. I trust you won’t kill me, I want to make love to you like we always do.’ He slowly walks back over to the brown wolf and gets down in front of the wolf’s sheath. He lightly rubs it’s thickly muscled legs which makes the animal growl and shutter at the same time. Valentin starts tonguing the sheath and shoves it down inside rolling it around and lapping up the pre its cock is dumping. The animal growls lightly and starts to moan as its cock begins to grow. Val feels it swelling as it pushes its way out of the sheath. He licks its sides making the animal grunt loudly. It shoots several jets of precum in the air which hits his human lover on the back. Valentin then gulps as much of the wolf cock down as he can and slowly sucks it feeling it thrusting inside his throat. The animal howls in lust as it grabs a hold of his legs with its powerful arms and runs its huge tongue up and down his hamstrings. The surprised human has never had this happen with him before as he moans loudly. The wolf’s tongue finds his ass and goes slithering inside his eager hole making Valentin submit to him immediately. ‘OH MY GAWD! Mmmm sir…..fuck yeah find my prostate please…..*feels its tongue searching for it and hitting just the right spot*……OH FUCK! OH FUCK! I AM GOING TO EXPLODE!’ The wolf remembers where his prostate is and slowly massages it over and over with its tongue. Valentin feels it swelling each time the wolf licks it as his body violently shakes and his balls and cock turn a dark purple. The wolf senses that he is about to erupt and tries to grab his cock with one of its paws. Valentin screams as he feels the massive flood racing through his prostate and into his cock. The wolf stops licking his insides and pulls his tongue out of his ass to flip him over. He shoves Valentin’s cock into his muzzle to drain him. He finally unloads down the wolf’s throat and tries not to panic as the animal has a tight grip on him. ‘Domino…..please don’t bite it off sir. I really want to keep it because it makes us both happy, don’t you think?’ The animal gulps a few times before running its tongue along Valentin’s cockhead to lap up what is remaining. The human sighs as he finishes cumming and hears to wolf growl before letting him go. The wolf’s cock is now fully erect and ready to blow as Valentin starts stroking it vigorously. The animal thrusts each time he does this as the pre gets a bit thicker. The eager human licks a bit of it and moans as he swallows the sticky spunk it drops while he massages its big hairy balls. ‘MMMMM feed me sir, I do love the taste of your cum.’ The animal howls as it tenses its powerful muscular body before it finally erupts. Valentin senses this and locks his lips on top of the engorged cockhead. He chokes as the huge volume of wolf seed goes barreling down his throat, face, and chest. Not wavering, he continues to suck on the thick tool making the animal howl again as it continues to shoot thick ropes of cum over and over again. It reaches down and grabs Val by the legs once again. He knows that the wolf is about to pound him into oblivion as he releases his mouth from the leaking pole and feels himself being pushed down on top of it. The animal holds him in place and starts fucking him rapidly while growling as it sits its muzzle up against his back. It runs its tongue up and down it before teasing his human lover by running its claws down the front of his chest making him shiver feeling them lightly rip the skin. He doesn’t feel very much pain though which makes him wonder what is happening. Tiny beads of blood start slowly trickling down his chest. ‘Please don’t Domino…..you are starting to make me wonder what your intentions are with me.’ Val can feel the animal’s cock swelling up inside him as it growls louder against him. It squeezes its powerful muscles around him as it howls deeply emptying its seed inside his human lover. The sensation sends Valentin into another realm as he moans lying up against the horny animal. Once Domino finishes cumming, he starts to revert back to his original form. Valentin feels his lover’s body cracking and reforming against him as he looks down and sees each claw break off as the bones and skin change back to their original shape. The muzzle that was leaning against his back breaks off and lands beside him which makes him cringe a bit. He feels Domino’s cock shrinking inside him as well. He reaches around and caresses his lover’s chest feeling the tacky skin as it continues to drip sweat heavily covering what appears to be a much bigger torso than he had before. Domino’s face has returned to normal as his eyes remain closed and he has a lot of thick facial hair now. Valentin pulls his lover’s cock out and turns around to check on him. He kisses him on the lips as the weakened man opens his eyes. His brown eyes immediately lock onto Val’s green ones and he squeezes him tightly. At this point, the werewolf is nearly done reverting back inside Domino. The remnants of the wolf lay all around them which sort of disgusts Valentin. ‘Yuck! I still can’t get past all of the dead stuff that comes off you Domino.’ Domino smiles and looks down at his body and notices something different. His muscles are considerably larger this time and he is much hairier. He bounces his pecs and tenses his arms making the veins stand out. Valentin moans grabbing both biceps and runs his tongue on both of his hairy pecs. The big hairy stud growls and picks his lover up to slide his cock back inside Valentin. The small assistant stops moving to speak. ‘Oh damn sir, is this such a good idea? You won’t change back again will you?’ ‘I promise baby, he got what he wanted I think. I don’t feel him trying to come out anymore, besides I think I have finally been able to keep some of his more alluring attributes. I am so much bigger now and my balls feel like they are going to constantly fill up. *notices a few scratches on Valentin’s chest* OH NO! He scratched you! Are you going to be okay baby?’ ‘I will be fine sir. He has pumped a lot of cum inside me before as well. I seem to be immune to his virus as you have called it before.’ Domino reaches down to lock his lips on Val’s and starts to fuck him slowly and lovingly. The full moon starts to dissipate behind the clouds as the two lovers continue to have sex with each other. It is not known exactly why Valentin has not changed into a wolf himself, perhaps he also has a secret that he hasn’t revealed to anyone yet. After having a night of letting the wolf roam free, Domino meets up with the board of directors for a late meeting to announce the unveiling of the new experimental drug that they have been developing for several months. The briefcase that was previously in possession of Nathan has now ended up in the hands of the CEO. He opens the briefcase to show off the four remaining vials of the drug to the executives. He proceeds to take out another vial and asks for a volunteer. When no one raises their hand, he turns to his assistant Carlos who is standing off to the side and motions for him to come and stand in front of him. Carlos immediately recognizes what he is intending and wants no part of this. He tries desperately to leave but is unsuccessful when he is led back into the room by company security. Domino laughs a bit when he sees this happening before he starts talking again. ‘My assistant is just a bit shy. He will enjoy this more than he realizes, he just doesn’t know it yet.’ Domino plunges the syringe into Carlos’ neck and pumps him full of the clear fluid. It isn’t long before Carlos feels the effects and starts to change physically. His chest expands rapidly as it makes tons of popping and cracking sounds. His arms stretch his olive-colored skin to its limits as the veins instantly grow into garden hoses. His shoulders and back muscles shred his shirt instantly as his legs completely bust through his pants without a second thought. The pain is extremely excruciating for him which makes the board talk amongst themselves as they watch his extreme growth cycle. It just stops short of being too much for his boxers to handle as he nearly loses consciousness from the ordeal. ‘This is our breakthrough ladies and gentlemen,’ Domino tells the board. ‘We have the power to turn ordinary men into supermen like him if we continue to develop this serum.’ He turns to motion for security to come back over once again and has Carlos led into the next room before he is taken to the top floor for further evaluation. The board stands from their seats and begins applauding for several minutes. Domino waits until they finish before he provides them with the information they need to continue the research. The drug is approved shortly thereafter for continuation and will be distributed among their lab facilities before they are finally ready to be sent to the FDA for approval. End of Part 1

YOU & I The Beginning It started on Wikipedia. You know, that site that tries to provide a page about anything and anyone? I was just fucking around online one day and decided to add a page about me. I figured that if the site wanted to provide something about everything, I was just as important and newsworthy as a Kardashian or some third-rate actor with a speaking role on some soap opera, wasn't I? I started out typing things about me that were true - and rather boring. My name, obviously, year of my birth, personal statistics, career highlights, all the usual shit no one gives a rat's ass about in the scheme of things. I had typed a few paragraphs and sat back in my chair, looking at the browser window on my computer and I think I said, out loud, “Fuck it,” or something equally meaningful and decided to start embellishing the truth with some colorful but fairly innocent…not lies, exactly. More like exaggerations. I'm just going to explain this to you exactly as it happened. No need for embellishment - not that it matters to me. There is no such thing as embellishment anymore, as far as I'm concerned. So, I leaned forward and placed my fingers to the keyboard and added some other details to my biography. They were innocent enough at first, things I thought that no one would bother to correct or look up, but details that I knew were not exactly true. I typed in, near the beginning of my biography, "It has been noted that he has rather large feet." I typed that as a sort of joke. About my dick. You know? The thing about a man's foot size being a correlation to the size of his cock? I thought it was funny, and I thought someone would come along and erase the whole thing anyway. But I felt an odd sensation at the moment I placed the period at the end of that sentence. A feeling of tingling, I guess. Nothing hurtful, more like someone scratching the soles of my feet with a fork or something. I reached down to rub at that itch without looking and felt something distinctly odd. I looked down and I could see my feet growing. My heart almost stopped in my chest and I'm sure my breath caught in my throat. I could see my feet enlarging, I was watching them literally growing. I wasn't on any drugs, I wasn't high or drunk. And after a moment my feet stopped growing and the tingling sensation, or whatever it was, ceased as well. I had discarded my shoes next to the desk and I picked one up, placing it against the sole of my foot. And, clearly, my foot was larger than it had been by more than an inch. In all other aspects, my foot looked exactly the same. It was as simple as that, the first time. There was no previous indication that I could do these sorts of miracles, or whatever it is that I am able to do. Had I never typed something like that, perhaps I never would have known of my power. Perhaps it only manifested that day, or perhaps I had been able to do it all along. Does that matter? Does it matter when or how or why I can do it, when the fact is that I can? Maybe. From my perspective, I don't give a fuck. I stopped worrying and wondering about that a long time ago. At any rate, and for whatever reason, my feet had grown larger. I contemplated this for a minute, probably, checking and re-checking that the problem wasn't with my shoes and that the growth was real and not some figment of my imagination before I realized that I could just type something else to test what was happening. "He also has a third nipple on his chest,” I typed, figuring that I could not possibly mistake something so unusual as a figment. Feeling a more subtle but still noticeable tingling again, this time at the center of my chest, I lifted up my shirt and there it was, just as I had typed. A new, third nipple. I'm sure I laughed or made some odd noise in shock and surprise. I touched it and felt that same slight sexual charge that my other nipples delivered and then I dropped my shirt and back-spaced the nipple from existence again. There was no tingling sensation this time, but checking my chest revealed that the extra nipple was now gone. I sat back and considered my options. My big feet and extra nipple seemed to prove that whatever I typed onto my screen became immediately true for me. I wondered how far this power extended. "He lives in a large mansion" I typed, and as the words appeared on the screen, my surroundings changes, seeming to melt from the old appearance to the new one. I was sitting at the same computer, on the same old desk, in my same chair, but my room had altered substantially, and there was a soft echo to reflect the new, larger size of everything. I stood up and looked outside. Indeed, to all appearances, nothing else had changed at all. I was living on my same street, in my same city, with the same houses around me and the same neighbors and garbage cans on the curb and mailboxes. But I was now standing on the second floor of my house, and by opened my window and looked outside I could see that it was, indeed, a mansion made of red brick with a grand entrance below me and windows stretching out for some space. The street itself had been changed to accommodate this new edifice. The same small houses lived at either end of my new larger home, so completely out of sync with the other buildings, but no one had charged from their own homes to gawk at this suddenly-appearing huge new mansion. People walked along the sidewalks normally, as if I had always lived here. I grew giddy, then, and sat back at my computer to finish my new sentence. "He lives in a large mansion outfitted with the best and most expensive furniture with a full crew of servants and an Olympic-sized swimming pool in the back yard." "May I get you anything?" I heard an unfamiliar voice ask, and I turned to see a man dressed as a butler standing at the door of my large office. He looked extremely butler-y and I realized that even as I had typed those words, the reality I was manifesting lived up to my expectations perfectly. Without elaboration, the butler I had created was the butler I had seen in my head - were I ever to imagine what 'my butler" would look like. I shook my head, he bowed his, and I laughed again at what was apparently happening all around me. But typing everything was going to become quickly very tedious. Did I really want to carry around something and have to keep adding to this Wikipedia entry to make it so? Of course not! The next words I typed, therefore, were: "When he speaks his desires, they become real." I stood up and cleared my throat. Then I said, simply enough and without considering the meaning, "I am the most beautiful man in the world."” I spoke the words, just nine little words, and looked down at myself to watch the change manifest. I should have been standing before a full-length mirror absolutely naked, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead. It was momentous, that change, and everything that came afterwards stems from those nine words. I looked down at myself as my words became real. The changes were subtle at first, and it was only later than I understood the real meaning behind them. What does beauty mean? Everyone has their own interpretation of it, don't they? But I became to everyone else the most beautiful man in the world, even as I became it to my own interpretation. It was so simple, so effortless. Merely speaking the words made it so. And over the course of a few moments, I became the most beautiful man on the planet. Only after I felt the changes cease did I wander into my walk-in closet (filled with the most beautiful and expensive clothing, naturally) and looked into a mirror. Dissatisfied at first, I said, "I am naked," and then I was. I came instantly, gasping for breath and pushing a sudden wealth of cum from my dick. Seeing myself - my utter beauty, the perfection of the human form - made my exquisite cock throb to instant erection. My libido grew inflamed, my gorgeous balls seized up, and I came hard and suddenly and fully. My face, my body, the perfection of my new self, it was beyond comprehension; overwhelming. I smiled as my cock - the most beautiful cock on the most beautiful man - jerked and throbbed and pumped out the last of my cum from my beautiful balls and I sighed with contentment on my perfect face. I wanted to cum again, but I couldn't. The force of my orgasm was absolute, leaving my beautiful body aching to achieve endless orgasms. I had never beheld someone so magnificent, so gorgeous, so perfectly beautiful. No man or woman in my experience, no one I had ever seen, could begin to approach my own level of physical perfection. No matter where I looked on my new body and face, no matter what attribute I concentrated my attentions upon, everything about me now was absolutely - and almost unbearably - beautiful. I glanced at the reflection of my throbbing - almost painful - erection, deflating from its explosion and dripping with my spent load from my perfect, beautiful, heavy balls. I licked my lips and said, ”I can cum as much as I want to, and as often as I want to, any time that I want to.” My cock, perfect and beautiful, suddenly turned red and shiny as it engorged with blood and rose immediately to its majestic erect perfection. I shot a long, fat, thick stream of cum that wasn't like any other orgasm I had ever experienced. I was nearly overwhelmed with pleasure as I came, watching my prick swell and thicken and shoot a fat rope of bright cream against the mirror. I could see my balls swell in my reflection, feel their weight and size increase as I began to produce an endless supply of hot, sticky cream that swelled in my balls and ached for release. I shot it out of my dick - my perfect, beautiful dick - over and over, coating my reflection in a film of masculine essence. I merely stood there, hands balled into fists at my sides, my hips thrust forward, my fat cock jerking and jumping, watching myself pumping fat ropes of hot cream from my thick and beautiful hard-on. I kept pumping and experiencing the intense pleasure of orgasmic release each time, moaning with satisfaction and desire, and then pumping another long, thick stream. “I… I am the… the most powerful person… on the planet." I gasped these words as I experienced this new powerful and unending orgasmic release, my beautiful body overwhelmed by the pleasure my cock was delivering again and again. I said these words and anticipated the results, but nothing seemed to occur. I realized as the final word left my lips that I already was that being. I was certainly the most powerful human being simply because I could make anything happen in an instant. Nothing seemed beyond these strange and unaccountable powers already. But that hadn’t been my intention. I tried to gather my thoughts even as I continued to come, pushing fat gouts of cum up the thick inches of my perfect cock, swallowing dryly and pulling air into my lungs. "I am… the physically strongest and… most muscular person… on the planet," I said, amending my previous statement to more accurately convey my intention. I'm certainly glad that I had said "person," because if I had said "being" or 'thing," who knows how strong I would've become? I would later amend these instructions, of course, and I came to understand how to describe what I wished, increasing my strength again and again as I tested my limits, evolving my superhuman abilities step by step. But at the time, at the start of my changes, when I still had no conception of my abilities and was afraid to test the limitation, becoming the strongest person on the planet seemed like more than enough power. But besting the strength of one man? That wasn’t enough. Why not ten? Why not a hundred? Why not a thousand? Why limit myself at all? But those notions would come in time. Then, at the beginning of my evolution, merely being the single strongest individual on the planet seemed enough. I leaned forward and wiped away some of the overwhelming load of my extended cum explosion. “The mirror is clean and clear,” I instructed, wanting to watch my changes manifest unhindered, and instantly the wealth of my unending orgasms disappeared from the glass. I could already see my muscles swelling along my extended arm. I felt my weight increasing, the sensation of growth manifesting when I began to bulk up as every muscle’s mass and density grew larger and thicker and heavier. A constant throbbing sensation of strength shook my body as my muscles increased in size and power - but even as they did so, my previous instruction that I was still the most beautiful man in the world remained intact. I watched this reflection, having difficulty believing not just that it was me in that mirror, but that anyone could look as I did. Muscle inflated outward as I grew increasingly stronger, surpassing the level of the most powerful weightlifter, the largest bodybuilder, the strongest man on earth. My chest swelled forward, the two hard globes of power pressing against each other, increasing with mass and weight, and my arms ballooned with inflating strength. I twisted sideways and observed my gorgeous ass rise and harden and push outward, becoming a marvelous and beautiful engine of jutting muscular beauty, two perfect rounded humps of muscular mass. My legs bloomed with thick, hard wedges as I ran my hands along them, and my belly tightened into a perfect six-pack - then eight-pack of power, each lobe blooming and swelling. Bigger and bigger. The muscle was packing itself onto my frame, inflating with sinew and power every second, growing massive - bigger muscles than anyone had dreamed of until I was gargantuan, swollen with muscle enough to surpass the strength of anyone else on this planet. Each muscle perfectly developed and as large as it could possibly become, all while maintaining my position as the most beautiful person on Earth. I began to pose, to watch my new muscles flex and bulge. My marvelous and unstoppable dick rose up again and I began shooting fresh ropes of my plentiful cum, pumping out thick splattering spasms of it as my balls drooped producing more and more and more, my gaze enthralled by my own power and size, and that lust manifested by explosions of cream. I looked down as I paused in my muscular efforts with my next obvious goal, still shoving fat ropes of cum from my cannon. My tremendous body was now pulsing with strength beyond imagining, a sensation I'm sure I can never adequately convey. Hyper-masculine. Hyper-strong. That feeling that one can accomplish any goal, and feat of strength, a feeling of invincibility. Muscle bulged everywhere in massive balls and cables, pressing insistently against my flawless skin, showing every fiber of power. I pulled in a slow breath, as if preparing for this next step. Opening my beautiful mouth, and watching myself with intent interest I spoke these words: ”I have the biggest penis of any man on the planet.” I gasped and struggled to keep my eyes open, nearly overwhelmed with a sudden coursing explosion of sexual pleasure. I watched my cock lurch and swell. The head pushed forward as the shaft inflated. I was lengthening and thickening at the same time, the size of my beautiful tool magnifying with incredible size. I grabbed it with both hands, feeling it thicken and stretch in my muscular grip, surpassing eleven, then twelve, then thirteen inches. I was breathing hard as I grew, feeling an overwhelming sensation of sexual pleasure. Someone else had a thirteen-inch cock, I marveled? But whomever had owned the previous record - wherever that man was - he would now be permanently in second place. It was a massive sexual tool with a fat plum of a head and heavy balls to match its new size. And still it grew. Fourteen… fifteen… sixteen inches long and as thick around as my wrist. An impossible, gargantuan, beautiful marvel hanging fat and heavy from my loins with perfect pink skin and a plum for a head. It throbbed with heat and a thick clear honey appeared at the tip and it began to drool copiously, as my unstoppable balls dutifully began to shove their overabundance down its new, thick, heavy inches. I stoked myself, hefting the majestic colossus into my large hands and feeling its weight and heat. It tingled with need and desire, rewarding my touch with strong shocks of utter bliss. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes as I ran my hands along my new augmented length, squeezing and teasing and stroking myself as the flow of precum increased, pushed by my ministrations. I did these things - said these things - all in quick succession, somewhat intoxicated as the changes so quickly manifested. I would later amend them all, adding nuance and detail, not satisfied with merely surpassing every other man"s beauty or size or strength, and instructing myself in more exact terms. All effortlessly and without apparent limit. I held my new, thicker, harder, longer cock and felt my balls droop with the weight of cream that I now produced in endless supply. The whole of it, every fat inch, began to throb and tingle with intense pleasure, and I felt my load travel up every heavy inch of my massive meat and watched it explode from the mouth of my record-breaking cock, shoving ropes of white cum in thick, wet pumps. Even though I was the most beautiful man on the planet, this new monster prick made things look out of balance on my body. I realized it was my stature, but that was easily remedied. "I am also the tallest man who ever walked the earth." Instantly I began to rise. Surpassing seven feet tall, nearing eight, as my beauty and strength compensated, my new super-powered muscles swelled and lengthened. Still taller. Eight-and-a-half feet, and then nine. Nine feet high - half again as tall as I had previously been. I watched my refection as I changed again, my head and face disappearing above the edge of the mirror"s frame as I extended taller than any other man on the planet. My muscles stretched and swelled, given space on my taller and wider frame, filling in and still maintaining that I was the most beautiful and the most muscular and the tallest man to ever stride this world. I cannot say and still don't know why the changes I make occur happen over a short matter of time rather than instantly, as if I could blink my eyes and everything changes in that moment. Perhaps it is because I want to see the changes. I want to be able to enjoy the improvements I make and witness the alterations like a tailor, so that I know that I am doing these things, and that they are to my own specifications. No one else ever seems to notice the changes as they occur. Only I do. Maybe time slows down. I do not know. I looked down at myself, my perfect body, my massive dick, my swelling chest and thick arms. I willed myself to come again, feeling my balls obey and start to grow heavier and heavier, producing a load of cum so thick and profound that my orgasm would also be the largest in the world. More. The thought came into my head. More. I watched my balls inflate, the skin drawing tight as they sank along my heavily muscled thighs. I stroked my - how long was I now? Seventeen inches? Eighteen? I worshipped my cock meat, luxuriating in the constant electrical shocks of pure sexual bliss my touch created. "Gonna cum," I said to no one there. "Gonna cum harder than anyone has ever cum before." I grabbed my massive prick and released my pent-up wealth of cum. I could feel the air move as it erupted from me like a geyser and hit the ceiling, shattering the plaster and wood like a rocket, blasting from my cock like a fountain, opening a hole through the ceiling and into the upper floor and again through that ceiling and the roof of my mansion, shooting hundreds of feet into the sky. I gasped and groaned and shuddered from the intensity of the biggest orgasm the world had ever know. Gallons of cream escaped my cock in one lengthy sexual explosion as my balls produced more and more and more. I shook with the power I controlled. "Stop," I whispered. It was time to take my powerful form out into the world. I strode like a colossus, feeling my new dimensions and my new weight rather awkwardly. I was unsteady at first, unused to managing this hulk I had become. I now weighed hundreds of pounds, and even my shoulders were several inches wider. My view of the world had altered dramatically with the increase in height, and it was warmer near the ceiling that I anticipated. I had to duck my head to move between rooms and twist my giant frame sideways to fit through normal door frames. I paused and considered my new abode, and I said, “my home was built to accommodate my size and strength easily.” I heard strange splintering and groaning as every room, every door frame, every ceiling expanded, every wall and floor grew reinforced to withstand my power and my size, and I smiled and came again, grabbing hold of my mammoth cock as I sprayed a fat arc of cum across one wall. Almost immediately, servants appeared to clean up what I had just created, and I realized that this could not be an unusual occurrence. It was likely, given that I could now come as often and as copiously as I desired, that I probably would partake in this sexual gesture in every room, and that my retinue of servants merely took that as part of their job. Perhaps they even looked forward to it, for it allowed them to be in the presence of the most beautiful and most powerful man on the planet, if even for moments. I paused at the front door of my mansion and looked down at my naked form. Although the idea of wandering the world in the altogether aroused me, I thought that it would be difficult if I were being thrown in jail for indecent exposure very day no matter how attractive I was. "People accept that I am fully naked in public, indeed that I am always naked, and special laws were passed in every city and nation that allow me to do so.” I considered this, and took it to its logical ends. “In fact, I am allowed to do anything I want to at any time without punishment or penalization." Satisfied that I had covered any contingent that may have caused me a problem, I opened the door and stepped outside. I must confess that I wondered, up to that point, whether this was all a dream or an illusion. Had I gone insane? Were the things I was seemingly capable of without apparent limit truly happening? So, in broad daylight, naked as the day I was born, now possessing the world’s most beautiful and perfect male body, the biggest cock in the world hanging fat and firm between my legs, bulging with the largest and most powerful muscles on earth, I stepped into the sunlight to see what would happen. Oddly - and somewhat disappointingly - nothing happened. At least, not at first. And why should it? Hadn't I just cleared away any possible public danger to myself? "People accept that I am fully naked," I had described, and so they did. Still, seeing my newly enlarged, improved, perfected, and overtly sexualized form would cause someone to stop dead in their tracks to simply gaze upon my magnificence. I still cannot fully fathom what it is for someone else to look upon my perfection. After all, I am simply looking outward from my own eyes and only sometimes catch a glimpse of the flawless physical beauty and utter perfection of my body and face. The street where I lived then was not particularly crowded with pedestrians or traffic, and I suppose that no one thought it out of the ordinary for me to stride out of my estate in the altogether and walk along the sidewalk with my nearly 19-inch cock swinging like a heavy pendulum from my over nine-foot-tall frame. I was stuck my the sensation of the wind on my skin. How often is one allowed to feel that? I mean…everywhere? I could feel it on my ass, and I suddenly wanted to know that sensation fully. I paused in my strides and reached around to pull my muscular buttocks apart and feel the cool brush of the wind against my warm and moist asshole. I stood there on the street and moved my middle finger onto the sweet tenderness of my own butt hole and gently stroked myself, feeling my balls tingle and swell and I grabbed my cock with my other hand, squeezing it as it quickly inflated to erection and then I came heavily, pumping thick fountains of bright cum that arced high and far, splattering against the hot asphalt of the street. I groaned with pleasure as I stood there fucking my ass while I felt the heavy pumps of cream swell up the fat inches of my world-record cock and puddle against the curb. I bent and moved my mouth into the stream and shot thick, sticky, warm jets of my own delicious cum into my open mouth, swallowing the sexual cream greedily. It splattered against my check and neck and chest, and that made me cum even harder. ‘Harder,’ I thought. “My….” I gasped for breath, overcome by the sheer power of the unending orgasm I was experiencing. “My cock is harder than steal. My cock is always slick and warm and delicious and every inch…every fucking millimeter of it is super sensitive and delivers deep shocks of intense sexual pleasure.” The power of my sexual bliss suddenly increased - dramatically. I felt my dick harden like iron and the surface became as slippery and sleek as if it had been oiled. My stroking grip slid along its thick, hard inches with absolute ease. I imagined myself sliding inside some lucky man’s ass with this thing, without any need for spit or lube at all. And then I’d seat my mammoth meat inside his tight hole, pumping in and out with the most powerful and muscular ass on the planet, unleashing endless thick, hot, sticky floods of cream again and again and again. My eyes rolled up into my head and I practically screamed with pleasure, almost unable to withstand the sexual beast I had become. I straightened and arched my back and thrust my hips forward, pushing the hard meat of my massive monster towards the open sky and let loose with torrents of cum, fountains of it, pumping it now as the pure bliss of sex engulfed me utterly. I came and came, because I could. I stood there with my steel-hard cock fountaining an endless supply of cum, a stream of thick white cream spewing endlessly from my monster prick, and enjoying the sensation of orgasmic release and realized, somewhere in my mind, that I could easily become a slave to my own sex drive. It was now a boundless beast, one that could never be fully contained or controlled - unless I did so. In the midst of this tide of bliss, I said, "I can…control…my libido. I have complete control over all aspects of this body - and anyone else’s I desire.” I cannot say why I added that last part. Admittedly, it has become one of my favorite powers, and I daresay that the others I have practiced it on have enjoyed its benefits as well. Regardless, with those words some clarity of mind overwhelmed that sensation of sexual pleasure and I pulled in a deep, cooling breath and my cock and balls calmed themselves. I stood up and wiped the final drooling dregs from the tip of my enormity, sucking the warm cream between my supple, perfect, beautiful, kissable lips and tasted myself, the richness and power of my seed coated my tongue and I found it sweet and delicious. I decided to set out for my gym, a place I had grown unfamiliar with lately due to one thing or another. I certainly looked as if I had been living there, though. My body was huge, probably outlandishly outsized, but I reveled in the feeling of size and strength and just kept…adding on. I certainly caused more than my fair share of problems just walking to the gym. I could no longer fit into my car or probably any car - it did not occur to me at the time to simply wish a vehicle large enough to accommodate me into being - so walking was the only practical solution. Again, it just didn’t occur to me to “wish myself” to the gym. And, actually, that’s never a good idea. Simply wishing myself somewhere. Control, again. Without being super specific, if I had said “I wish I was at my gym” it’s impossible to tell where I would have appeared. Maybe even occupying the same space as someone already there. Can get kind of awkward. I’ve fixed most of those little accidents by altering the nature of my instructions. Less literal, and more intuitive. Sometimes, the thing you’re thinking of doing is more detailed than the words you can use to describe it. I don’t have that problem any longer. Well…most of the time. Anyway, as I was walking to the gym, my new body and face were causing unforeseen problems.There was some absurdity to my appearance, my size and strength and that huge prick swinging thick and heavy, but I was like a baby using superpowers. I’ve gotten a lot better. I’ll show you, soon. Hope your cock can stand it. And if it can’t, I can help you out. It wasn’t like I was causing spontaneous orgasms or traffic accidents or anything - those sorts of reactions came later, as my control evolved. But the reactions were not at all what I expected. Sometimes people laughed (I suppose I did look odd with those giant, oversized muscles and that beautiful but out-of-place face), sometimes they looked away, embarrassed by that more-than-foot-long prick. It taught me a valuable lesson about making my changes have broader ramifications, and also to limit my effect on others. Because I said, “Everyone loves me.” Big mistake. Love is a super-power all by itself. Love can cause devotion, but also jealousy. Love can cause lust, but also possessiveness. A sort of wild and worldwide fight broke out. I had no idea what I had just done, no idea of the extent of the change I had caused. I could only see the local reaction, as people - all the people - ran towards me and began to fight with each other for proximity and…well, you get the idea. I was in shock, and the quickest thing to occur was to erase my mistake by saying its opposite: “Nobody loves me!” Even bigger mistake. But you can see how things can get out of hand very quickly. My turn of phrase is important as well. Saying something like “You want me so much your balls ache,” may just be a figure of speech, but when I say it, it isn’t just that. And, sure, some guys like to feel their balls ache, but an unsurprising number would rather not. When I finally arrived at my gym - after a series of “humorous misadventures” - and walked in, the place came to a sudden and complete halt. All eyes turned towards me, which was admittedly what I had hoped would happen. Guys were springing boners as I passed, some even rubbing themselves while others tried to hide their body’s reactions with embarrassment. “Don’t be embarrassed,” I remarked offhand, and just like that everyone the place started to take their clothes off and some were jerking off. I had to stop myself again, and I was going to “fix it” and try to return things to “normal,” when I thought, well, I kind of like things better this way. “No one here is embarrassed by their sexual desires or their body, and everyone is accepting of everyone else.” Now guys were making out with each other, and some approached me as well. I have to say that the effect on my prick was immediate, and my hungry wiener started to plump and throb as several guys began to kiss me and stroke me and even attempt to suck my huge dick right there in the middle of the gym. Frankly, nothing like this had occurred to me! I was still locked in to the idea of the existing world, that some things “had to be” and that I would somehow fit around those “facts.” But I had just illustrated to myself how much of a change I could enact with just a few words. I decided to take another step, to live out a fantasy of my own. “All of the equipment in this gym works ten times better than ordinary equipment.” What I meant by that was that anyone who used the equipment in this gym would see muscular and strength gains 10 times faster. I wanted to see guys sitting on weight bench and pumping out a few chest presses and watch their pecs inflate at record speed. But I wasn’t quite that precise in my instructions. As I watched my words take affect, suddenly the weights were made of gold, and the equipment was shiny and new. I hadn’t made the equipment more effective, I had simply made it ten times better. No one else, of course, recognized the alteration, and they were all still engaged in making out and fucking and kissing and doing whatever else they sexually desired without embarrassment. So I tried again. “The equipment in this gym looks like ordinary gym equipment,” I said between kisses, watching it all return to its previous appearance, “but its muscle-building effects will be ten times stronger for anyone who uses it.” Of course, no one was using it because they were all now happily indulging in their new sexual freedom. But I wanted to see if the effects were as I intended. “When you’re in this gym, you…you still are not embarrassed by your sexual desires or your body, but you concentrate on using the equipment to build your muscles.” From one second to the next, everyone stopped making out or fucking or whatever, and turned their focused attention to the gym’s equipment. At first it was a bit like musical chairs, with dudes nearly fighting to get onto the nearest piece of equipment. And then I noticed that guys were physically straining to move the weights even an inch. I went over to a set of free dumbbells and lifted one marked 25 lbs. My newly increased super-strength allowed me to lift it easily, but I realized it no longer weighed 25 lbs., it was now a 250 lbs. dumbbell. Again, my words had taken immediate effect but not with the intention I had hoped. I realized my mistake, and I sought once more to rectify it. I had said that the equipment was “ten times stronger” when what I meant was that it should be “ten times more effective” in helping these men grow bigger, stronger, and more muscular. But what would that change? I decided to try to be as specific as possible. I watched the other men struggling but determined and I knew I had gotten one part right, I just needed to change the other part and add a little spin on things. “The equipment in this gym operates the same as equipment in any other gym, except that its effects are ten times faster on muscular growth and development. When anyone uses this equipment, their body will react the same as if they are using any normal gym equipment, except that their muscles will derive ten times the usual benefits and develop at ten times the normal rate in one-tenth of the normal time. These effects extend to all the weight training equipment in this gym, and the men using the equipment will use it for the amount of time they would normally use any other gym equipment.” It was a lot of carefully worded instructions. I stood back to watch and see what effect my words would have. To say that the effects were both dramatic and awesome would be a severe understatement. If I had thought about what I was saying, I might have toned things down a bit. Ten times? Ten?!? That’s a 1000% increase in effectiveness. Sounds good, and maybe we all would want to be able to get more bang for our workout buck, but in practice things turned out a bit differently than I anticipated. Muscle was exploding everywhere, but not…everywhere. Guys doing squats were suddenly inflating their legs and butts with hard, raw braun. But nowhere else. Dudes curling dumbbells watched their biceps swell like balloons, but the rest stayed normal. It was…weird. But also awesome. I just needed to add some more tweaking to get it just right. “The amplified effects of the gym equipment here will apply to the entire body, so no matter which equipment someone is using or what muscle they are exercising, the muscular development will be applied to all their muscles simultaneously.” From one moment to the next, everyone sort of…evened out, and then I was watching men slowly, steadily, evenly swelling with muscle. My dick was again steel-hard. It was working exactly as I had envisioned it. Guys were uniformly swelling up with muscle. Everywhere I looked I could watch some dude’s body growing. Pecs were swelling forward, lobes of hard muscle grew across their shoulders and arms, thick wedges of power inflated along their thighs, fat rocks of hard braun grew on their calves. Every pump brought more size and power. They grunted with the effort, sweating and groaning, even as their bodies were swelling bigger and bigger. After just one workout, the gym became overwhelmed with huge, strong, powerful men swollen with fresh, hard, beautiful muscle. But then it didn’t stop. It had become exponential. By making the effects encompass the entire body, and making it ten-times its original effectiveness, every man was now essentially doing ten-time-ten, and then ten-times-ten-times-ten, and so on, because I had said “use it for the amount of time they would normally use equipment.” They continued working out, getting larger and larger, their muscles swelling up beyond anything I had ever seen. It was amazing. I had done this. I had made this real merely by speaking it, and as I watched the men growing larger and larger with muscle, I realized that they would not stop until they became musclebound - literally too large to move. Their muscles would continue to grow and swell and they would not stop working out. Because I wished it. “Everyone in this gym is exactly the same way they were when they entered it,” I said. “The equipment has no special power and behaves in an ordinary fashion according to its design.” And then there they were again, those men, all ordinary and no longer inflating with muscular growth. I decided to focus my powers on just one man, to attempt some changes on him that I could more easily control. This is a general rule I still follow to this day. Random, global changes that involve “everyone” tend to have many side effects - both good and bad - that I cannot foresee. Limiting my changes to just one person, or a small handful, allows me to temper my miraculous changes and keep some control over the situation. I selected a rather ordinary looking man - though in comparison to me, all men looked rather ordinary now. I had a strong desire to change that. I did not know him and had never seen him before. It was unfair of me to be so cavalier about someone else’s life, I realize now, but at the time I did not consider the full ramifications of the changes I was about to make. I strode up to him in all my glorious naked perfection and he looked either scared or excited - possibly both. The gym’s walls were covered with mirrors so I had an excellent view of my new body as it moved, the way the muscles bulged and flexed, the sheer beauty of this body, the overwhelming power and perfection. My face almost stopped me in my tracks when I was again reminded how handsome I was, and my ever-hungry prick swelled and throbbed with sexual need. It took some time for me to be able to look into mirrors without being extremely aroused by my own reflection. It seemed wrong, somehow, to have sexual feelings about myself, but I now understand that it’s actually a healthy response. Perhaps it was more about accepting that this stranger in the mirror really was me, now, and not someone else I was wearing. “Hello,” I said simply, and smiled at him. He came. Just like that. I had done nothing at all but speak a single word and smile, and this man shuddered and moaned and shot a fat load into his workout shorts. “Thanks you for being naked.” And he was. “You’re beautiful,” I added. I watched him change with interest and desire. I have since learned that there is a difference between calling someone beautiful and handsome, but I’m not certain if that’s only because I myself consider the words to have different connotations. His face and body changed in a sort of fluid manner, resolving themselves into a presentation of breathtaking male beauty akin to the most attractive male model you have ever seen. He was not my equal, as I had called myself the “most beautiful,” and his muscles and cock did not swell to superhuman proportions. Instead, he because a heartbreaker, with a gorgeous face enhanced by sensuous, full, kissable lips, jewel-like eyes, soft waves of hair and flawless, glowing skin. His body was marvelous, very well balanced and very well trained. He looked like a gymnast, now, with sleek, perfectly proportioned muscles under smooth, flawless skin. He was truly beautiful. “Thank you,” he said. I thought at first he was thanking me for giving him that gift of beauty, but he was only thanking me for the compliment I paid him. No one else was aware that I was doing anything, and that still holds true. “What’s your name?” He gave it to me, though now after so many men I have given these gifts to I’m embarrassed to say that I cannot remember it. Perhaps I was so focused on my end-goal that I chose not to remember details like names. I wanted to see how far I could take someone else. Certainly, all my instructions concerning my own body and surroundings manifested instantly - could the same be said of someone else who had no idea of what I could do? “Why are you at the gym?” I asked. It seemed a logical place to start. “You can be absolutely truthful with me.” “I want to get bigger,” he said. Then his gaze drifted across my own magnificence and he added, “Like you.” My cock pulsed. I could almost feel his lust for me like heat. Yes, he wanted to look like me, but he also wanted me. He wanted to be with me. Did he want to fuck me? “Do you want to fuck me?” “Yes.” “Do you want me to fuck you?” He looked down at my throbbing monster and his eyes widened. “Will it hurt?” he asked. He did want it, he wanted me inside him, but he was scared as well. And why wouldn’t he be? No one on the planet had a bigger cock than I did. No one had ever seen such a huge meaty slab of sex hanging so full and thick. “It won’t hurt at all,” I said, “If I fuck you - if I fuck anyone - it is the most amazing and pleasurable sexual experience they’ve ever had. Any man I fuck will experience multiple orgasms - powerful ones, as many as they desire - and they often say at the end that it felt like we were made to fit together, like it was the most natural sensation of pure sex they ever felt.” Saying all this made it immediately true - or so I assumed. There was, of course, only one way to determine whether that was fact. “What if I fuck you?” he asked. “My ass is perfect,” I said. “It feels like slipping inside a tight, smooth, wonderful velvet glove. It feels like your dick is being sucked and squeezed and licked and stroked all at the same time. And when you come inside my ass, you’ll shoot harder and fuller and with more pleasure and satisfaction than you’ve ever felt before.” But why stop there? “I am also the world’s most talented and experienced fellatio artist. And it is an art, I assure you. When I take your cock in my mouth, when I lick you, kiss you, suck you, caress and comfort you, your cock will deliver strong, perfect, beautiful shocks of pure sexual bliss. And when you finally shoot your load, it’ll be the strongest, most complete and perfect orgasm you’ve ever delivered during a blow job.” That sounded sufficient. Since then, I have managed to finesse and perfect all my sexual abilities. I can bring you to the edge of madness, now, making your brain spin and tingle and explode with so much pleasure that you will wonder what your previous orgasms were. That seemed like an excellent experience. I did not feel anything change about my body, but I knew it was true. My ass was a sex machine, built for the pleasure of whomever I brought inside. “How big is your cock?” “I’m not sure,” he answered, reaching down and grasping himself. “Your cock is nine inches long,” I said, his size already lurching towards my stated measurement, swelling into a prominence. He grinned and looked suddenly more confident. “I want to fuck you,” he said, “with my fat cock.” I nodded, “But first,” I said, “you’ll need to suck me, because when you swallow my load…” I paused wondering what magic might be performed. “When you swallow my cum, you gain 10% of your weight in new muscle.” “I know,” he said, because it was now true. “Every swallow,” I said, “you’ll get bigger and bigger.” “With muscle.” “And cock,” I added. “Your nine-inch cock will swell to 9.9 inches with the first swallow, and then again. And again. Even as you grow heavier and stronger with muscle.” “Yes,” he agreed, happily. “But first you have to make me cum,” I said. “And that is no easy feat.” I grabbed my monster to boast, “I have the biggest cock in the world, and satisfying this beast takes stamina, talent, and passion. Do you believe you can make me cum, to receive your reward?” He nodded vigorously and dropped to his knees, setting about his task. In truth he was not very good, though I should grant him some favor because he was attempting to take on a fairly substantial burden. But I so wanted to see his body swell and his cock to lengthen - with the knowledge that it was my own rich delivery of hot cum that was making it happen - that I granted him three deliveries from my beast to see the changes manifest. It was hard not to keep pumping my cream inside him, seeing its effects taking shape so swiftly. He slobbered over my hugeness, stroking and squeezing me in hopes of steeling his prize, and I grasped his head and shoved his mouth over the plum of my great monster as I allowed my first full gushing fountain to erupt. This was not some small delivery, like drops of pearl on his tongue to suck and swallow, or small squirts of warm cream. I fairly exploded into him, unleashing the full strength of my new superhuman cock and balls, watching his cheeks expand and his eyes tear as my new copious flood gushed inside him, forcing my surging stream down his throat. Only a moment later I felt him moaning against my cock, his eyes closed in evident ecstasy, and I watched his shoulders begin to swell and his chest to inflate as pounds of new muscle formed on his body in seconds. My heavy load dribbled from the corners of his mouth and drained down his chin, the powerful muscle-building cream dripping onto his swelling pecs. I could see broad cables of power swelling up beneath his skin, stretching across the expanding globes as pounds of fresh muscle bulged across his body. I moved my large hand behind his head, felt my balls swell and stretch, and I came again, a second fat explosion of hot cream, thrilled and excited that my words could do this. I could feel my cum traveling up every steel-hard inch of my monster and rocket from the gaping mouth, shooting inside him like liquid fire. His muscular development redoubled. New striations formed along his biceps and traps. His grip on my cock grew tight and profound, but I was hard as steel. He gulped down all that he could knowing what it was doing to him, greedy for more power. His chest continued in its inflation of muscle, pushing his nipples downward as each pectoral globe expanded, swelling with increasing muscular mass. I felt a hot splash against me and looked down to see his cock reaching forward, swelling longer and thicker and pumping pearl explosions from its mouth. It was incredible to watch his prick growing, and I wondered what it felt like to him, this increase in mass arching up between his swelling thighs. What must he have been feeling, to spontaneously explode his load on my skin like that? He came over and over, pushing out his load, a mere trickle compared to mine. I sighed and smiled and my balls began to inflate with more cream. I could feel them pushing against my inner thighs as I allowed them to fill up, inflating like balloons, pushing more and more power into this magic elixir my cock would force inside this man’s mouth and then into his muscles and his own prick, forcing them to swell larger and larger. I licked my lips and looked down at him, still struggling with my last delivery of hot cream when I released my final load on him and felt it rush along my prick and explode from the mouth of the world’s largest cock. I came for the third time, the sensation of my delivery traveling up the thick, hard inches of my huge meat and shoving its power inside him, adding yet more pounds of muscle to his body and his cock stretched another inch longer when I pulled myself from his sucking mouth and he fell back, pulling in a deep breath and I watched the final pounds of strength swell everywhere beneath his skin. He was clearly overcome by the experience, trying to suck air into his lungs as his new body coalesced into its ultimate size and power. Sweat coated his skin and he came again, hard, grunting with the pleasure and effort as he pushed his load up his new fatter cock to splatter on my perfect skin. I rubbed my thumb against my nipple, enjoying the sensation of sex but holding back from another delivery of cream, and merely watched him slowly adjust to this new reality. What would he do now? Where would he go? What had I done to this man? I didn’t even contemplate these questions then. I merely looked at the product of my body’s abilities and smiled. Nearly 50 additional pounds of muscle were now bulging off his body, and his hard prick was nearly a foot long. “Now,” said, looking down upon this massive muscular brute, “you are worthy of me.”

Hey Guys. Here is a new story I have been working on. It's a little different, so I welcome reactions and feedback. Also your thoughts about where you would like to see it go.... Enjoy! DIARY OF THE GERMAN MUSCLE BABY Part 1 I'm stronger than you. Why don’t we start there? Without knowing anything about you, your age, your size, your weight, the sports you may excel at, I can unconditionally say that my muscle strength is greater than yours. Not just pound for pound, but absolutely. At the age of seven, while tussling with my father over not wanting to take a bath, I inadvertently broke both his arms. (Needless to say this shamed and horrified me, and taught me early on to respect and restrain my dangerous strength.) I call myself Torsten for this book, but that is just a convenience. My real name has never been publicized, and only a few, fairly anonymous photos from my early childhood have ever been seen. My parents were scrupulous about that, for which I thank them. If you have heard of me at all it is as “the German muscle baby,” a title I was knighted with by various TV outlets and websites when I was four years old. Like most labels it has a grain of truth but also conceals dozens of misapprehensions and half-truths. Frankly, most of the real facts about me have never been revealed until now. To be honest, quite early in my life I became bored with the astonishment my unusual strength and precocious muscular development produced in people. After all, this is the only body I have ever had, and the appearance and capabilities of my muscles have never seemed anything but natural to me. And yet, on the other hand, it is certainly not wrong to call me a superman. Numerous scientific tests have established that my muscular power (measured in a variety of ways), my endurance, my stamina, and the physio-chemical properties of my muscle tissue are prodigiously beyond the curve of normal human rankings. And this is why, even though I am only nineteen, I have chosen now to tell my story. The fact is there may never be another human creature quite like me. So I consider it my responsibility, even my duty, to put a clear and precise telling of the facts on record. I have two other reasons for stepping forward at this moment. For most of my life I have been a glorified lab rat. I served this purpose for drug companies, for the military, for medical researchers, strength coaches, professional sports teams and Olympic associations from at least a dozen countries. A year ago I turned my back on all of that. I wanted the freedom to travel the world and to study the peculiarities of my phenomenal body (I mean that literally) on my own. As a result I am something of a hunted man. More on that score later. My other reason for writing this book is a bit more personal. Most of my life I have been the object of constant, intense, and frequently obsessive sexual and romantic pursuit by men and women of every kind and variety. I don’t ask for your sympathy. But, not to be coy, I harbor the hope of one day being loved and desired for something more than my disarming appearance, my flawless, tempered-steel physique and my superhuman strength. So this tale, in a way, is my message in a bottle. I hope it will let the world know who I am in my heart and my soul. And perhaps, who knows, it may reach someone out there for whom it will make a difference. Someone else like me, perhaps. * * * * * Having said all that, there is no way to begin this story without talking about my looks. As I said, I am 19. I stand exactly 183 centimeters, or a tad over 6 feet tall. My hair is thick and blond, with natural brown and reddish highlights. My eyes are a pale bluish-green, a color that subtly shifts, depending on the quality of the light. My complexion is golden brown. My skin smooth, moist and clear. If all of this sounds like I have spent a lot of time looking in the mirror, I have. If it sounds like I am in love with my own splendid physicality, I am. I say this without embarrassment. It couldn’t be otherwise, and if you saw me for even a moment you would understand. Regarding my physique… I am certain that “muscles” is the first word I understood, and possibly the first I ever spoke. From earliest infancy the air around me was filled with the sound of “his muscles,” “the child’s muscles,” “such remarkable muscles,” “astonishing muscularity,” “the strength of his muscles,” “amazingly muscular,” “huge, solid muscles.” Only now, in retrospect, do I understand how strange it was for a child of two, three or four to be constantly encouraged to flex and show off his body. But those were my beginnings. More than anything, my muscles have shaped my life and my destiny. They are, by many objective measures, the most extraordinary human muscles that have ever existed, and as you read on you will understand why. At the moment I carry 135 kg (297 lbs.) on my perfectly proportioned frame. Based on those numbers you would quite naturally assume that I am an Olympia-sized leviathan like Roelly Winklaar or Mamdouh Elssbiay. But in fact, because my muscle fibers are roughly twice as dense and hard as those of other elite strength athletes, my measurements at the moment are only slightly larger than those of a top physique competitor like Jeff Seid. My biceps are an inch or so bigger than his, and certainly my quads and calves are larger. But standing elbow to elbow the beautiful Mr. Seid and I occupy almost the exact same volume. The difference is that he fills it with 205 lbs. of brutally trained beef, and I fill the same sized vessel with nearly 300 lbs. of ever-mutating, titanium-like strands of wiry, responsive myocytes. In other words, Jeff and I are shaped somewhat the same (at the moment, and I’ll explain that as we go.) But if he is like hard rubber, I am more like solid steel. In terms of appearance what this means is that there is a shimmering hardness to my muscularity, striations in places, and on muscles, where they are rarely seen. And also, because of the difference in the number and quality of muscle strands, my body parts expand much more dramatically than those of other bodybuilders when I flex. I said “other bodybuilders,” but it is somewhat inaccurate for me to refer to myself as such. My muscular physique occurred quite naturally and easily, as a result of a child’s normal eating habits and physical activity. While I was incessantly tested and put through my paces by various scientists from early childhood, I never set foot in an actual bodybuilding gym or paid much attention to what I ate until the age of 14. It was at that point that I discovered the astounding degree of control I have over the size, shape and condition of my body. For many sad and complex reasons I have had few true friends in my life, but certainly Helmut is one of them. As a rising youth football star back then (he is in university now) he paid careful attention to nutrition, and devoted hours to intense training in our town’s most hardcore gym. I resisted many invitations to join him there. After all, the constant testing and assessment of my strength and muscularity was like work to me, in a way it was my job, and the thought of doing it for recreation held little appeal. But, after a while, for the sake of Helmut’s bracing humor and companionship, I accompanied him to the gym. Not surprisingly, in my first training session I was able to pump some of the gym’s heaviest iron with jaw-dropping intensity and stamina. At least a few of the regular crowd were competitive bodybuilders or powerlifters. It is a gross understatement to say they were shocked by the sight of a smooth-cheeked 14 year-old matching them on most movements, and even outlifting them on a few. The astonished attention of these powerful athletes was certainly an ego boost. But as I know you have already gathered, my ego is quite large and healthy and it doesn’t particularly need massaging. What kept me returning to the gym with Helmut, however, was the exhilarating sensation of accessing my deepest muscle fibers with those heavy weights. It isn’t an exaggeration to describe the feeling as sexual, and the “pump” in that first workout included my delighted cock in addition to my muscles. And what a pump it was! Having never been challenged in quite this way my muscle fibers swelled and inflated gloriously as blood flooded in to replenish them. I know for a fact that my biceps increased at least 2-3 cm (an inch, roughly) over their cold measurement. When I took off my shirt and flexed in the locker room mirror, Helmut and I both broke into uncontrollable laughter at the sight of a very young body that had seemingly grown about 20 kg in a single workout. This was an illusion, of course, the effect of my incredible pump. But Helmut was tickled and impressed enough to grab my right biceps in both of his hands and dangle his entire 65 kg body weight on my flexed arm for half a minute as we continued staring delightedly at the mirror. These outrageous pumps were a function of my unusual physiology, and they continued, workout after workout, as I trained with Helmut for the next many weeks. Naturally, my appetite increased prodigiously. I had no interest in following my friend’s strict diet regime. So I simply stuffed my face with whatever I wanted to eat, and as much of it as possible. Pizza, pastries, wursten, potatoes, dozens of eggs, litres of whole milk, chocolate bars. Amazingly, the huge caloric intake (I’m guessing at least 10,000 kcal/day) had no apparent effect on my bodyfat. Even as my size and weight increased dramatically (to say the least!) my skin remained paper thin, and I stayed shredded and vascular. (Yes, at fourteen, even earlier, I was already veiny.) Meanwhile, in seven weeks I almost doubled my bodyweight, from 75 kg (165 lbs) to 142 kg (312 lbs.) As I have explained, my muscles are unnaturally dense, so my body tends to look about one third lighter than it actually is. But to get an idea of how I looked after my first two months in the gym, picture a rock-solid, striated, 100 kg fourteen year-old and you have some idea. These first few months of bodybuilding taught me something new about my muscles, a thing the researchers had failed thus far to discover. Unlike a normal man or woman (unlike you, for example) I possess a genetic makeup that places no limitation on the growth of muscle mass. In those first seven weeks I quickly reached a point where I was lifting our town gym’s heaviest weights. But if there had been a way to continue increasing the resistance I was working against, and if I had been able to eat more and more calories, there is almost no limit to the amount of muscle I could have gained. Had I kept building at the same rate (and there is little indication that I wouldn’t have) I might have weighed twice as much, and looked considerably bigger, than Markus Ruhl or any of the other most massive Mr. Olympia contenders, before my fifteenth birthday. This is a good time to speak, in a little more detail, about some of the science behind my uniquely superior body. If you read any of the early reports about me you were told that I possess a rare genetic mutation that inhibits the expression of myostatin, a protein the body produces in order to limit the growth and proliferation of muscle mass. You were told that certain people are born with one allele, or half, of the myostatin inhibiting gene. But that I, along with a tiny number of other people, was born with both alleles; in other words, the entire anti-myostatin factor. To illustrate what this condition meant the reports included pictures of genetically altered mice, nicknamed “Schwarzenegger mice,” with muscular little mouse limbs. Or shots of double-muscled Belgian Blue cattle, giant steers whose bodies were covered with abnormal bulges of hypertrophic beef. But the truth is, the anti-myostatin gene is only one of at least six genetic mutations I possess that have an effect on my muscles and their capabilities. There are half a dozen other humans in the world who have been identified as sharing my anti-myostatin mutation. But so far no one has been discovered to carry any of the other genetic irregularities that account for the astonishing properties and capabilities of my muscles. The first sign of this revealed itself when a national science magazine brought me, at age 11, to pose with one of the double-muscled Belgian cattle on a farm. My co-star for the shot was a beautifully marked, proud looking 1200kg adult bull. The shot called for me to pull as hard as I could on the rope tethered to the bull’s harness, so that my shockingly developed, eleven year-old muscles (I was shirtless of course) would flex impressively as I strained against the bull’s unyielding mass. But to everyone’s surprise, not least of all mine, my physical strength proved powerful enough to pull the animal toward me, against his will, and force him down onto his knees. At this point the photo shoot was suspended and the magazine article postponed, since no one at that point had any words to explain how I had overpowered and shamed the giant beast. If there are photos from the shoot they are hidden away in secret drawers at the magazine or in the photographer’s vault. I’m sure you would love to see them, as would I. The point of this story is that for the next seven or eight years I continued to stumble on new abilities my muscles displayed, new modes of adaptation, new powers and potentials they had that no one, until now, had even thought were the domain of muscle mass or muscle fibers. The scientific studies being conducted began to bear titles like “The Results of Elevated CPK Levels on Multi-efficient Myocytes,” or “Bio-Chemical Properties of Newly Discovered ‘Super Muscle’.” As we proceed I will explain the various ways that my muscles are so uniquely superior, and when I can, I’ll offer the scientific explanations for this. But I think it is clearest to handle that as we go along. For now let me take you back again to the summer, five years ago, that I began training with Helmut, the chaotic reaction my results produced, and the dramatic way it changed my life. * * * * * * * As I said, in the summer of my 14th year my appearance, to the naked eye, changed from that of a muscled and athletic looking 65kg young teen, to that of a brilliantly conditioned, 100kg, jacked and stacked bodybuilder. (Bear in mind that my actual weight was 142kg!) If you looked closely you could still see I had the baby face of a 14 year-old. But no one could look at the amount of aesthetically arranged, granite-hard muscle I was carrying and believe that I could possibly be any younger than my mid-20’s. This new ‘Super Torsten’ became an exciting new toy, not just for myself, but for my great friend Helmut as well. Every day after training we would go to the busy promenade and the beach alongside the river to see what kind of noisy disruption my remarkable physique would stir up. Even in those spring and summer months when there was still a moist chill in the air, any glimmer of sunshine would be enough to bring out hordes of townspeople and visitors intent on enjoying the great outdoors. The stony beach would be populated by little groups of hopeful sun worshippers, the bravest of them stripped down to their thongs, the more modest at least rolling up their trouser cuffs and doffing their shirts to take advantage of the few weak rays that poked through the clouds. At least one brave soul would inevitably risk a dip in the freezing river, which as late as May sometimes still had clumps of ice floating on its surface. Helmut and I had of course romped and played on the promenade as small children (not that I was ever exactly small!) But around the age of ten or so we stopped spending time there. When he began to be recognized as a local athletic phenomenon we couldn’t walk fifty meters without being stopped by some adult who wanted to chat, or to take his picture. I, on the other hand, would draw disbelieving stares, none of them approving, due to my overly-muscled child’s body. Things became even worse after a meddlesome local physician visited my parents to scold them for giving me steroids. They naturally told him the real reason for my muscular maturity. As a result word spread through our town that I was some sort of genetic freak. Added to Helmut’s growing fame, this made a carefree or enjoyable afternoon on the promenade a virtual impossibility. By fourteen, however, we were both at an age when girls and sex were very much at the top of our thoughts. (It would be some time before I discovered that my own sexual tastes were much wider and that I actually preferred men over women, given the choice.) Helmut discovered that he could tolerate humoring the town’s hardcore football fans if it meant he could also ply his fame to good advantage with attractive young girls. And as for me, my recent “growth spurt” had been so dramatic and transformative that everyone just assumed I was newly arrived in the town. No one connected the baby-faced muscle god with the Torsten they had known for 14 years. The promenade was a fifteen minute walk from the gym, but Helmut and I would race there, in order to arrive and pull off our shirts (our excuse for this was any weather warmer than 10 degrees C.) while we still retained most of our pump. Natural jock that he was, Helmut had a body that turned heads. Only, now he was seriously outshined by the sculpted monster that strode beside him. This did not bother him at all. Good friend that he is, he was tickled by the attention that was drawn to me, maybe even relieved that he now had a fellow “celebrity” with whom to split the burden of local fame. And I, for maybe the first time in my life, began to enjoy being a magnet for the attention of others. Instead of just being gawked at and poked over by thick-spectacled physicians and science journalists, I was drawing smoky glances from the best looking girls (and mature women!), not to mention some of the hottest, sexiest men. We would play a little game, Helmut and I, on our daily, post-training treks along the promenade. We would bet each other how long it would be before someone stopped us and asked me to flex. And we would bet on whether it would be a boy, a girl, a grown woman, or a grown man – and if so whether he would be gay or straight, as far as we could tell. The shortest time it ever took was fifteen seconds, which threw us both a little off our game. This was a young man, very fit, who was training for a bodybuilding competition later in the summer in Frankfurt, and wondered if I might be competing as well. Had I thought a little longer I might have paused and been more compassionate. But instead I laughed and blurted that I was only 14 and had only been training for two months. The young man was noticeably devastated, and mumbled as close to a compliment as his utterly deflated ego could manage, before traipsing away with a troubled expression on his face. Something tells me he never made it onto that stage in Frankfurt, which would be a shame because he appeared to have some potential and might possibly have placed decently among a group of amateur, regional bodybuilders without my particular gifts and talents. (That day I was forced to buy Helmut a huge lunch at the next Bistro und Kneipe along the way, because his guess of ten minutes was so much closer to the actual time than mine.) In this carefree manner we made our way down the riverside each afternoon, laughing and marveling at the variety of reactions my powerful, hyper-masculine physique would provoke. These ranged from the red faces and downturned eyes of passing schoolgirls who flushed at the sight of me… to a middle-aged gent who, on seeing me, grew wide-eyed and then casually ducked behind an abandoned kiosk to masturbate. Helmut, for his part, was snorting with a mix of amusement and disgust. But I felt a secret pride, a secret delight at this affirmation of my sexual power and magnetism. A few weeks later, after the incident at the building site, of which I am about to tell you, these feelings would lead me to the series of experiments I started to conduct, alone, in a few of the neighboring cities. But we’ll wait just a moment for that. A couple of weeks into our daily adventures beside the river Helmut and I became bored and decided to wander further, past where the promenade ends and the streets and buildings of our little town come to a stop. We leapt off the edge of the concrete walkway and continued along the river, passing a few bleak-looking industrial sites (the town’s sewage plant being one) that rise out of the brush and scrubble that line this little-used stretch of the river. Three or four kilometers along we were surprised to find a kind of clearing, a place where backhoes had scraped away a big swath of earth and vegetation in preparation for a building project of some kind. Stacks of cinderblocks, piles of heavy wood beams... (TO BE CONTINUED)

The Cake, the Candles, and the Birthday Wish – A short story by Scriptboy Ethan Crews had a very special day coming up. He was about to turn 17 on July 17, 2017 and his mother was prepared to do anything to mark the event in a special way for her son who hasn’t celebrated his birthday in the last four years. Ethan was pretty geeky, to say the least. He was about 5-foot-6 inches tall, thin and he had no muscle to show for. He played soccer because he was too short to be on the basketball team and he was too small to make the football team. He loved to play video games and he dabbled in programming and web design in his free time. He also loved to play music online and act like a DJ for an online radio station on weekends and play his favorite tunes for his small group of regular listeners. Other than that, he was an introvert with only a small number of friends who kept to himself and liked to stay in his room and do stuff on his computer when he wasn’t studying or playing soccer. On the evening before his birthday, Helen, his mother, walked into his bedroom and kissed him on his cheek as he was typing up an essay for school. She had just come home from working at the department store in the mall and she had not seen her son all day. Ever since she had gotten divorced she had been working full-time as a manager at the store which meant she had to come home late every night. “Aww… Mom! I’m doing homework…” Ethan groaned as he was caught by surprise. “I’m in the middle of writing an essay for history class!” “Hey, Ethan! Tomorrow’s your big day, sweetheart!” she smiled as she looked at her teenage son. He looked great with his short, brown curly hair and his deep, brown eyes. “You’re gonna turn seventeen! Aren’t you excited?” “It’s just another day, mom! You know I don’t care for birthdays! I just wish I had more time to go to the gym or something with all this homework that I’ve been getting. I keep on running into Gerry and his football goons at school who keep on pushing me around at school. I’m such a great target since I’m a short, skinny nerd at school…” Ethan grumbled. “And having a nerdy name like ‘Ethan’ doesn’t help, either…” “Well, I have a surprise for you, sweetie…” Helen said softly as she ran her hand through his curly hair. “Aww mom…. I’m not throwing a party! Please!” Ethan said angrily. “Just go to Joe’s Bakery down the street and pick up the chocolate cake after school, okay? I’ll get off early from work so we can indulge tomorrow afternoon… Mother and son!” she replied. She kissed him on his forehead as she turned around and walked out. “Don’t forget! I already paid for the cake!” “I won’t forget, mom…. I’ll pick it up as soon as I get out of school tomorrow!” he sighed. Ever since his parents got divorced Ethan really didn’t feel like celebrating his birthday anymore. The family just wasn’t there. Birthdays and holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving just didn’t feel the same anymore without having his parents together. His father moved to the opposite side of the country and remarried so there was no chance of his parents getting back together. And then getting bullied for being a nerd in school wasn’t making life any easier, either. Ethan just got up like he normally would the following morning and showered and got dressed for school. Once he arrived at his high school, he got pushed around and shoved into the row of lockers by Gerry again, who sneered at him for forgetting to write a paper for him. Ethan was supposed to do an assignment for Gerry and he forgot all about it. After classes were over, Gerry cornered Ethan again, confronting him about the missed homework assignment. “Listen here you big lug! Do your own homework!” Ethan shouted. “I have to go to football practice! I don’t have time to do my homework! That’s what you’re here for, you nerd! So, now you gotta do my math homework as well! If you don’t then I’ll smash your face in!” Gerry roared. “I can’t… I’m… I’m celebrating my birthday with my mom this afternoon!” Ethan groaned. “Well… Happy Birthday!” Gerry scowled, before punching Ethan in the stomach and throwing him on the ground. “You’re a nerd and I’m a big muscle jock so it’s your job to do my homework!” Gerry walked off, laughing as Ethan cringed while lying on the floor. It took him a few minutes to recover, when he finally did, he got up, grabbed his backpack and stumbled out the door towards the bakery. Ethan walked in the bakery and handed the large man behind the counter a slip of paper which he had gotten from his mother the night before. “Oh… A birthday cake for Helen Crews? Oh yes… Got it right here! Along with seventeen candles!” the big man said as he placed a large white cardboard box on the counter. “It’s all paid for!” “Thanks…” Ethan said as he raised up the lid and glanced at the round, chocolate cake. “So… I guess this must be for you, huh?” the baker said. “Uhh… Yeah…” Ethan replied shyly. “Well, you’re getting seventeen candles! So, put them on the cake when you get home and light them up! Make a nice wish when you blow them out!” Joe the baker instructed. “I hope ALL your wishes will come true!” Ethan thought about that for a moment before he took the box in both hands and started to walk towards the door. Joe, of course, held the door open for him. “Thanks… I think I already know what I’m gonna wish for…” Ethan said as he crossed the street while carrying the cake in his hands. About five minutes later, Ethan reached the front door of the house and opened it. He walked in and set the cake on the kitchen table. Then, he took his cell phone and called Helen, letting her know that he had gotten home from school. She was on her way home already and would arrive shortly. Indeed, she got home within ten minutes, carrying a large bag of clothes from her own store. “I bought you some clothes from the store, sweetheart!” Helen said as she unpacked some shirts and set them on the table. “I know how much you like to wear nice clothes!” ‘Thanks, mom!” Ethan said as he kissed his mother on her cheek. “Now, let’s indulge, share we?” Helen grinned as she placed the candles on the cake and lit them with a lighter. “Come, Ethan! Come and blow out the candles!” Ethan walked up to the kitchen table and stood before the cake, staring at the cake and the seventeen candles. This was it. This was the moment to make his wish, today, on his seventeenth birthday, on July 17, 2017. Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I wish my muscles would just grow bigger and stronger every time I was threatened, bullied or in danger from this point forward… I also wish my muscles would grow bigger tonight, so I wake up big and strong tomorrow morning!” Ethan thought silently as he filled his lungs with air before opening his eyes and blowing out all the candles all at once. “Happy birthday, Ethan!” Helen cheered, as she cut off one slice and served it up on a small, round paper plate. “You get the first slice!” Ethan and his mother just enjoyed cake and punch that afternoon and evening while watching TV in the living room. “Mom? Umm… If these shirts don’t fit me for some reason then… You can take them back and exchange them for bigger ones, right?” he asked his mom. “Why, of course honey! I’ll get you others if these are too small…” she responded. “No problem!” “Oh…. Good… Just in case I, Uhh… Grow tonight…” Ethan chuckled. Ethan finally went to bed that evening, feeling happy but wondering if his wish would really come true. He walked into his room and crawled in bed, dozing off almost immediately. His concern was now how to face Gerry at school since he didn’t do his homework for him… again! The radio kicked on about 7 hours later, playing the usual pop, rock and EDM tunes that Ethan liked to hear in the morning. A large hand reached over and slammed the snooze button, knocking the radio off the stand with one mighty blow. “Aww… what the heck?” Ethan groaned as he slowly turned around. Did his bed seem smaller? Wasn’t his bed wider the night before? Did the bed shrink? Or…. Has he grown? Ethan raised up his hand again and noticed something. His hand was big. But so was his arm. He had biceps now… and they were BIG… Like bowling balls! “Hey…. What the heck?” Ethan felt bigger. He seemed heavier. He covered more space on the mattress. He was wider. He slowly slid off the bed and let his feet touch the ground with a thud. He wasn’t any taller but he surely felt like he had gained weight. Ethan stumbled over to the mirror on the wall and examined his reflection. He was only wearing his underwear so all his muscles were clearly visible. “Holy crap!” Thick arms joined in the middle at the torso where mighty pectorals were jutting out from his chest. Broad shoulders were staring back at him, followed by his round, beefy pecs, ending with ripped, washboard abdominal muscles covering his once flat stomach. “Whoa! My wish! My birthday wish…. It came true!” he exclaimed, while rubbing his hand over his hard abs. Looking down even further Ethan noticed his thick, wide quads, which were wider and thicker than before, followed by his bulging calves. The skinny nerd was now a very athletic and muscular jock in his own right! “Hah! Look who’s a jock NOW!” Ethan grinned. “Take that, Gerry!” Then Ethan realized that he had better get ready for school. But that was not going to be a problem. He remembered his wish. When faced with danger or when bullied, his muscles would grow and become even BIGGER! Things would only be better from now on! “Time to go to school!” Ethan grinned as he grabbed the largest shirt he could find. “Yup… Mom has to exchange some of these shirts for larger ones…” he grinned. But, that was a good thing! Ethan got dressed and walked to school, eager to see the reactions from his classmates when they saw the NEW, muscular version of him as he looked now….

A Christmas Surprise Edmond is a very charitable man and has always done whatever he could for his friends. Whether they needed financial or emotional support, he was always there for them. He has never once felt like he should ask for handouts even if they were offered to him. Despite his good deeds, Edmond is quite lonely and feels a bit empty inside. While it isn’t unusual for him to attend the yearly parties at his friends’ pads and at his workplace, he has never found that one person to fill the empty space in his soul. His friends have never caught on to this since he has always been really good about covering up his emotions with them. This year he put his Christmas tree beside the fireplace for the first time since he moved into a new house just a few months prior. He positioned it to where he could look at it as the fire crackles in the room to give it a nice ambiance. It has made for great photos as well since he has snapped quite a few pictures on his camera, and even filmed the whole scene to send to all of his buddies. Edmond is quite modest about his body as well. Being as lonely as he is, his workouts have been ramped up to deal with the feelings he is having. His friends’ remark about his huge biceps all the time and how they always stretch the sleeves on nearly every shirt he owns. As a bit of a joke this year, he decided to film himself shirtless in front of his tree and did a few bodybuilding poses. He has played the video back several times to stare at his thickly muscled torso as it would glisten in front of the fireplace. After editing the final product, he sent pictures to most of his friends who once again remarked about how studly he was looking. Still modest by all means, he found this to be a bit ridiculous but deep down inside he was loving the way he looked and wished that he had a companion to share Christmas with so they could enjoy the fruits of his labor. He wasn’t always alone. His ex-boyfriend Les still comes by once in a while with his husband Ralf, but this year they were going to Florida for Christmas. (Les and Ralf live in Connecticut.) After attending one of his friend’s parties on Christmas Eve, Edmond arrives home around 11 to crash on the sofa. He ends up dozing off after a few minutes. As he lays there sleeping, the fire goes out and something makes a really loud sound on his rooftop. It seems as if something or someone is trying to make their way down the chimney. Feeling the room getting colder, Edmond wakes up to go check on why the fireplace went out. He can hear rustling coming from above his head and reaches over to grab the fire pick located on a rack about two feet away. A man falls out of nowhere and lands on top of Ed’s head as his face plants directly into the soot. The large man gets up as Ed jumps back to clean his face off with the clothing he has lying beside the couch. When the man walks out from within the fireplace to look at him, Ed is shocked to see that it is the man from those stories he heard about from his childhood. The man is not as heavy as they described him to be either. He looks like he could be in his 50s, but is a remarkably handsome man as well. He is laughing as he walks towards Ed. In complete shock, Ed drops the fire pick and nearly passes out. The man grabs him before he reaches the floor and picks him back up to lay him on the couch. Ed can feel how strong the man is by the way he holds him against his chest. The man’s red and white suit is quite snug as the heat emanates from his body. The man speaks in a very deep manly tone and tells him that his name is indeed Kris Kringle. He says that he came to present a gift to Edmond which has quite a few perks that he might enjoy immensely. The man’s sexy brown eyes never look away from Edmond as he speaks to him. His white beard clings to his firm face as Edmond finds himself surprisingly attracted to the man. He tries not to show it but the man is completely on to him. Kris is now sitting beside him on the couch too which doesn’t help matters. Kris hands Edmond a red velvet pouch with what looks like a bottle inside it. He tells Ed to take the bottle out and to read the inscription on it. The heavy glass bottle contains a green liquid which sparkles as it hits the light in the room. Kris says that he can decide what to do with the liquid since it can provide joy if he so desires it. He thinks, ‘What does Kris mean by happiness though and is this some kind of test?’ He looks at the bottle again and wonders what he is supposed to do with it since all it says on it is ‘Happiness’. Kris puts his arm around Edmond and pulls him in closer to his body. He whispers in his ear, ‘you can drink it, rub it into your body, or don’t use it at all. It is your choice.’ Ed’s eyes widen as he is given these options. Kris already knows what his choice is going to be, but wants to hear it straight from Edmond’s lips. He unbuckles the black belt attached to his suit and opens the top part of his jacket as he reveals his greying hairy chest which has a treasure trail that moves all the way down to the hairy bush he is sporting. Ed is floored that the man he knew from his youth is in reality an extremely muscular daddy and he is sitting beside him. Kris grunts a little as he slowly leans in to give the surprised man a soft kiss on his lips. He takes the bottle out of Ed’s hands as he kisses him so he doesn’t drop it by accident. It turns out that the bottle is only part of the gift that the hairy man is giving him. He places it on one of Ed’s side tables as it continues to sparkle like diamonds beside the lamp and the fireplace. Kris gently slides him down onto the couch as he gets better situated on top of his chest as his hugely muscled gut presses up against the striped shirt that Ed is still wearing. Kris nuzzles his face with his beard and plants long wet kisses on his partner’s neckline. It isn’t long before the mature man decides to take his entire suit off to get completely naked. Ed grabs Kris’s huge ass and feels both of his firm glutes in his hands as they flex and strain. Before he can do anything else, the sexy older man pulls Ed’s shirt off and massages his thick chest with his tongue. Kris asserts his power over his younger counterpart as he unzips Edmond’s pants and pulls them off as well. The two men’s cocks are playing hockey with each other as they slap each other numerous times before they finally lie up against each other and throb together. Kris smiles and laughs in his deep husky tone as he lets Ed know that he will feel a huge amount of ecstasy as they get further into the sex. He slides down the couch to pick the young man up so he can play with Ed’s hole as he licks it slowly before laying him on his musclegut to push his big cock inside. Ed doesn’t put up much of a fight as he gives in to the sexy older man’s advances and relaxes his hole completely to let the muscle daddy slide all the way in. Kris starts fucking him in quick bursts exerting a great deal of power into every thrust. Ed is confident that he can take it though since he focuses quite a bit on his core in his workouts. After several minutes of steady pounding Kris stops fucking him to reach over and retrieve the bottle from the table to open the lid. Ed looks at him and motions for him to drink it since it is what he wants him to do. The big stud moans under his breath and agrees as he gulps down half the bottle. He pulls his cock out of Ed before pouring the rest of it onto his heaving chest. The contents roll off the edges of his massive pecs as it trickles off his swollen nipples and into Ed’s waiting mouth. He licks the hair on Kris’s muscle gut before working his way up to munch on his big pecs and chews furiously on both of his swollen nipples. The happy older man squeezes Ed tightly as he feels his body starting to change. His skin gets tighter and more vascular as the veins grow thicker along the surface of his skin. His body hair changes to a solid brown as his cock gets more rigid than before. Ed moans feeling the muscle daddy changing as he continues to worship the mature man’s amazing chest. At the same time, Ed can feel his body changing as his muscles starts expanding. The pleasure he is feeling makes his cock shoot several ropes of cum all over his partner and himself. He looks up into his lover’s eyes and sees how incredibly handsome Kris Kringle is becoming as the man’s brown eyes look down at him as he grins. Kris proceeds to penetrate Ed once again as he fucks him with even more force than before. The feeling he is getting from this makes him almost numb as Kris continues to pound him. He can sense the big stud is about to cum and fears that Kris will plug him up if he comes inside his body, but the sexy brown-haired man assures him that he will be safe because another part of the gift is immunity from sexual diseases as well. He stops fucking Ed just before he starts blasting several ropes of cum into his gut as it coats his insides. They both moan loudly letting the rush flow through them. Ed is completely unaware that his body has grown by 10 pounds through this whole sequence as Kris massages his bottom’s bloated muscles. Kris pulls his wet cock out of Ed again to move himself down to work on Ed’s slightly larger cock. He toys with the head as it fills up with blood and then gobbles it down his eager throat. He moves in rapid succession as he immediately manages to get Ed close to unloading a monster of a load. Ed sweats profusely as he squirms back and forth on the couch as Kris holds him down promising him that he won’t lose a single drop of his manseed. After noticing his partner’s cock and balls turn a deep purple, Kris moans feeling the thick cum creep up into Ed’s shaft as it swells against his lips and teeth. He positions himself to catch the first massive rope as it sprays the inside of his mouth making the big man gag a couple of times. The next few ropes end up hitting him in the face before he locks back down onto Ed’s cock again and swallowing the rest of his load. The sensations he feels from it flowing into his stomach makes him grunt and growl with absolute delight. He continues pumping Ed with his big hands as more cum flows down into the muscle stud’s throat before letting the last few spurts shower his face as he moans deeply rubbing his younger lover’s dick against his beard. After this final exchange, Kris tells Ed to lay back and just relax as he moves back up to wrap his arms around his lover and to pull him into his chest to hold him close. The sexy older man tells him to go to sleep and not to worry that he will still be there in the morning. Christmas Day arrives and after a great night of sex, Ed wakes up and sees a much younger Kris Kringle standing in front of his Christmas tree wearing just a pair of red boxers with white fleece along the top edges. His back is to Ed as all of his massive curves glisten while beads of sweat roll down each one of them and disappear into his gorgeous butt crack. He spreads his lats out as his stands there with his hands on his hips. Ed says something to get Kris’s attention. As he turns around, his pecs bounce and his biceps clinch since he is not expecting his younger counterpart to be awake yet. He smiles as his new brown beard glows just a tad as he says, ‘Good morning, I hope you enjoyed the time we had last night.’ Ed responds by saying, ‘It was one of the best nights of my life.’ which prompts the sexy man to do a few poses himself in front of the Christmas tree. Kris stops posing to go sit beside him and puts his huge arms around his equally big partner and turns to look him in his eyes. He tells him that everything that has been given to him so far is permanent and that he will remain with him for as long as it is deemed necessary. Ed tries to hide his loneliness from Kris, but the older hunk is fully aware of how he feels just from the way he is acting. He leans in and kisses him very passionately as their tongues meet. They have sex again as Kris pulls off his red boxers to move his lover on top of him to slide his huge cock inside Ed as he rocks him up and down making the younger man moan deeply. The fucking feels so much different this time because the numbness he felt before is dissipating. Kris squeezes his lover’s thick arms and worships his huge chest with his mouth and hands. He tells Ed to just relax and let him do all of the work since it is Christmas after all and he is the one receiving gifts. He sucks on Ed’s huge nipples and rubs his hard ab tiles prompting Ed to grunt loudly as he starts to produce precum down below. Kris picks up speed inside him and promptly pumps his seed inside his lover over and over again while he continues to worship Ed’s muscular body. He finally stops unloading inside him to pull his cock out so he can return the favor and get his partner to shoot his load next. Kris somehow has the ability to make Ed’s cock swell bigger and wants him to watch as he makes this happen. The stimulation from the older stud’s tongue quickly makes the muscles in his pole pump up as it moves all the way down into his balls which are doubling in size. The pressure is so unreal that it feels as if he is going to explode in the literal sense. Ed begs him to let him cum since his cock is now turning purple. Kris laughs as he pumps it slowly with his mouth and positions himself to catch the thick river as it flows into his mouth. He growls feeling his body tense up as he starts to get a huge pump all over his body as it turns purple like it is getting ready to burst. Ed jumps to his feet to feel Kris’s hairy chest as it gets all wet from the huge amount of sweat coming from every pore in his skin. It feels so good that both men blow their loads again this time onto the floor. Ed asks Kris how long he will stay like this which he responds by saying that it is only temporary, but it could last longer if he decides to make a resolution for the upcoming New Year holiday. This is something that Ed has never done before, but will for the first time in his life. Since Kris said he was not leaving, this next New Year’s holiday would be more meaningful than ever before. Ed tells him that he wants to introduce him to some of his friends just as a way to include him in some of their social gatherings; however, the big hairy stud tells him that this can’t happen until after he makes his resolutions on or after January 1st. The two sweaty men get up to go to the shower to wash each other off. This of course leads to more passionate kissing and nice prolonged handjobs from both men. A question that is being asked in Ed’s mind is, ‘Where is all of this cum coming from?’ He is spurting nothing but solid white cream from his balls and it makes him wonder if perhaps he would continue to do so after the New Year begins. Kris smiles since he knows what his partner is thinking and unloads a nice thick load of cum as well. It appears that the happiness potion has made both of them more virile and more youthful as a result of consuming it. He then asks his older lover, ‘How is he going to keep this secret for an additional week?’ Kris tells him to relax and not to worry because he has other places he can go to in the meantime so he can just live life the way he did before they met for the time being. After draining their hoses, cleaning up their mess, and drying off, Kris tells Ed that he will be return in a few days so he can make his resolutions since there isn’t much else they can do together at this point. Ed looks at him with a bit of concern on his face but once again Kris reassures him that he isn’t leaving for good and that he will return when the time is right. After a few more minutes of hugging and kissing, he leaves out the back of the house wearing his red and white suit and slowly disappears into thin air. As he tries to keep from getting emotional over Kris leaving, Ed immediately starts texting several of his friends to tell them that he may have finally met someone that he cares greatly for. Some of them find it quite peculiar that this would happen on Christmas Day, but they do believe him somewhat. He hopes that they can meet him after the New Year starts, but he does agree with them that maybe he should just take this one day at a time. After an extremely busy week at his workplace, Ed tries to cope with being alone again since Kris still hasn’t returned from wherever he said he was going. It is the 30th of December and he has heard nothing from him. Luckily though, his friends have visited since they really want to know who this mystery man is. He doesn’t have any pictures of Kris yet to show them because he forgot to take some when they were together. One thing they didn’t pick up on was the fact that he is slightly bigger from when they last saw him at the Christmas party and from work. By drinking the green potion he was given, he ended up gaining at least 30 pounds of muscle through several days of slow gradual growth and even has more hair on his body as a result. He wasn’t too shabby before the changes, but even he has noticed some major changes like how much bigger his biceps are and how his pecs are even closer to his chin than beforehand. His workouts have gotten quite a bit easier as well. He has upped his max weight on the bench and can squat at least 100-200 pounds more than previously. The stress he had from not having Kris around has kept him focused on the gym more than ever. He has made it a point to get a bunch of workouts in before New Years Eve since he doesn’t know what Kris has planned for him. The anticipation has been building up in his brain and he wants to look his best for when he does return. The story continues with New Beginnings, coming soon!

My Weekend JOB part one by F_R_Eaky Dedicated to some inspiring friends and net acquaintances. "Come on, you don't have to do this." said Joshua's friend Lawrence. "Yes, I do." replied Joshua with a firm look on his face, but with an inner smile that almost escaped. "But there is a convention in town. It's like the next best thing to Comic-Con. Everyone is going, you should too. You need to take more breaks." "Look. I take breaks. I get out and have fun, but every once in a while I have mini-conventions to go to for work. They are planned way ahead of time. I can't change them. Every once in a while I have to go to my weekend job." Joshua smiled inside knowing the little lie he was stating. He wasn't really going to anything with work; he was heading for a relaxing, fun, yet exhausting weekend of wanking. When friends and family asked him where he was going he always told them it was a mini convention or conference and said it was his weekend job. Only in this case the word "job" was an acronym for him meaning: Jack Off Buddies. He shortened the phrase to the acronym and thus felt he was telling the truth and could get away with his little fib. "Those weekends aren't a convention, they're conferences for your job. And I've seen you when you return from them. You must be studying so much over new rules, regulations, and whatever that you're always exhausted. You come home by late Sunday morning and you're already out like a light by two p.m. Come on.... give it up for once." Joshua closed the lid on his luggage, then zipped up the bag around his laptop. "No. The reservations are already made. I'm supposed to arrive tonight. If I cancel now I'm out a hundred bucks for late cancellation. And then I'd have the money to spend on getting into the con, plus whatever I'd spend to eat and things I'd be tempted to buy. It'd be like paying for two conventions and then I'd be out my money for the rent this month." "All work and no play, man." Joshua smiled at Lawrence as he got into his car and then rolled down the driver's side window. "Go home, Larry. If I know you, and I do, your costume for the contest tomorrow probably still isn't done and you need to finish it." "Screw you!..." but then with a smirk and an expression of fear, Lawrence took off running down the street to his apartment building as he suddenly realized how much work his costume did indeed still need. Pulling out onto the street and driving off, Joshua's heart took a leap and he blushed and smiled. These weekends always made him feel ecstatic. Several years ago when he made friends with one, then three guys on the net who were all into the same fetish as him it was a secret joy and pleasure that made his life to much happier. It sounds kind of odd to mention it that way, but the thing is Joshua's fetish wasn't like a regular hobby. It wasn't playing on a baseball league team, or football. It wasn't golfing or rock climbing, hiking, or biking. Neither was it board games or role playing games, re-enactments of any history, or art and crafts of some kind. No, it was truly a sexual kind of fetish but not one that could be acted out or performed like being chained, bound and gagged, or acting like a school boy or being Tarzan. It was growth, muscle growth specifically, although Joshua and his friends, in varying ways liked other types of growth or displays of alpha masculinity: Macro height growth, uber bodybuilding muscles and beyond, super superman like strength, hyper cocks and balls that deflated all men who saw it and spewed greater than any water fountain. "Hmmmmnnnnnn" Joshua was so excited about going to this weekend, just barely thinking about it and only about fifteen minutes out from home he was already tenting his pants something fierce. It didn't help that he drove a stick shift and the pulling on the gear shift, the pumping of the pedals caused the fabric of his jeans and underwear to rub against his throbbing cockhead. "HMmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn" Joshua bit his lower lip. "Down, boy. You've got all weekend to be at attention." And attention it would receive. Joshua met Brent online after having posted in a fetish group board a couple of his own stories of muscle growth and some drawings of hyper grown, macro sized men. Being able to talk about other things in life and finding each other amiable, the two decided to meet up one day for a mini macro-fest. They would watch videos of bodybuilders working out or posing after a workout or in competition, or morphed videos of body builders posing and then suddenly with a grunt inflate to almost twice their normal size. They watched 3D animations of normal men suddenly growing and growing, inflating full of muscle, getting taller and taller than the average man, gaining and gaining in cock and ball size. Or they listened to audio clips of various men who suddenly got stuck with some military serum and began to grow into the size of a muscle bound, porno pricked, skyscraper sized giants. During all that viewing, they gave their cocks the workout of their lives, pretending the feeling of each stroke was a source of power shooting through them causing them to grow and grow, getting bigger and bigger, taller, broader, thicker, stronger. until they were giant muscle gods with massive cocks. Sometimes they might reach over to help one another reach climax but tweaking a nipple or helping in the stroking, but would keep it up watching, chanting how big they were growing, until they at last exploded. They would sit for a while basking in the feeling a great release gave, then they would clean up and sit and talk for a while, maybe go out and grab dinner, and then an hour or two later, go right back to watching and jerking. "OOOOOhhh fuck!" Joshua shifted his potbellied 5' 9" tall frame in his driver's seat, trying to relieve the pressure in his groin. He felt the wind on his balding head and through the short reddish-grey hair that created the three-fourths crown surrounding that head. Focusing his blue eyes on the road, he cranked up the tunes trying to think of anything other than the subject for this weekend. But he couldn't help it. It was his fetish. It was his turn on. He didn't know why, but it was always there, even during childhood. He wasn't ashamed of his body. Yeah he wasn't tall, but he wasn't really short either. He could reach both the top and bottom shelves without straining his back. His weight he wouldn't mind changing being almost 300 pounds - all of it in his waist area, but he wasn't ashamed to go out or be in public. Grant it he might not go shirtless, as his frame was a "potato on toothpicks" as he described it, but it didn't keep him inside bound to home. Somehow he just never got into sports or weightlifting. It just wasn't in his nature. He was an artistic soul. However, the sight of a tall, well built man, especially a hairy one just turned him incredibly. As a child, that moment when he began to get erections, he noticed this when looking through comic books. He love the look of those super heroes, but then he'd see those muscle ads selling one a program on how to become huge and muscular with pictures of guys who had gone through the program. Sprrrrrrrrrrrrrrroing! There he was tenting. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" Joshua's free hand, now that he was out on the highway, was rubbing his fingers through his own chest hair, thinking about those men he saw then and all the others he's viewed to his now middle age. "I became hairy at least...." He thought to himself, wishing that his body would've developed into a giant hulking powerhouse, but despite having reached his full height by seventh grade, making folks thing he was going to be a towering figure, it didn't happen. It also didn't help he had a long sitting desk job which increased his lateral spread, but not in the great v shape way he would've loved. ************************************************************************** Arriving at the hotel, Joshua called up Brent who told him what room to come up to. Knocking on the door, Joshua was happy to see Brent open it up and greet him with a smile and a, "Hey, how are you doin'?" Brent was closer to Joshua's dream than Joshua was. He was hairy...and tall. Standing about 6' 3", if his shirt was off you could see he was a hairy man as well not just his arms and legs, although his hair was a little denser and curlier than Joshua's. He still had a full head of jet black hair, along with deep brown eyes, and unlike Joshua who was kind of light skinned, Brent was a bit more olive complexion. His build was an average slim one that was just beginning to produce a tiny little paunch of belly that was never noticeable whenever he had his shirt on and with it off not noticeable until he sat down. Joshua looked up at Brent after they gave each other a welcoming hug. "I'm good. How are you doin'?" "Doin' good. Glad to be able to do this weekend with you. Work has been auuuuch... stressful as all get out." "Ignorant coworkers again?" "And customers, and administration. I wish I could grow right there to tower over them, pick them up and say, 'Get your head in gear or leave.' Then drop them and do a crab shot for emphasis." The two laughed at the thought. "Hey, " said Brent. "I was able to travel with an extra suit case this time, so this time I'm able to bring my entire collection of shoes." "Oh, too cool." Brent had the same kind of fetish that Joshua did, but he liked to roll play a little bit by wearing larger shoes. Truthfully speaking, Joshua, who only wore a size US men's 9.5 already loved Brent's size 12, but there was just something about slipping one's foot into a greater size. They would walk around in a pair of size 16 and pretend they were part of some professional NBA team. But then they would grow... and pretend their feet were bursting out of those shoes and slip into a pair of eighteens. They'd grow again and slip into a pair of twenties. They loved wiggling their feet in these shoes, feeling how big, engulfing, and heavy there were, wondering how much more powerful a man was just being taller to lift his foot up in a pair of these size of shoes. Eventually they would work their way up to a size twenty-four, but Brent only had one pair of those, so they would each wear one and then sit on the bed and watch videos and such pretending they were still growing taller and bigger out growing that shoe and quite beyond. "That is excellent... and I have something to contribute to that." Joshua went over to his suitcase, placed it upon the stand, opened it up but kept the lid down, put his hands inside it and smiled at Brent. "You remember the one story I wrote with the nine and half footer?" "Oh, yeah. One of my favorites. You described his growth so well, how the muscles inflated, his feet burst out of his shoes, how he got taller and broader, not to mention how hung he became." "So you remember his shoe size?" "Yeah... I think it was something like a US men's 46 5E wasn't it?" "Yep." "I'd love to see my foot and my shoes compared to a pair of those." "Well...wish and wonder no more." And with that Joshua pulled out a ginormous pair of sneakers nearly as long as his whole arm. "Holy cow! Where did you get those?" "I made them. Took a re-enacting class in shoe making, altered the pattern for a modern shoe, created the pattern, and got the supplies and voila! Here they are. Not only that..." said Joshua as he handed the pair over to Brent. "... but I made two sets of them!" Joshua produced another pair of size 46 sneakers. "Now we both can wear a full pair." "That is awesome. I can't wait to grow into them. Let's get started." So the two quickly changed into comfortable clothes, sat down on the bed, pulled up their laptops and began to view and chat and watch. ************************************************************************** It was going on two thirty in the morning and Brent and Joshua were at their fourth growing session, laying out on the bed, their laptops in front of them: Joshua had 3D animation clips of men growing taller and muscular or extremely endowed running, while Brent had video clips of bodybuilders working out, muted, while an audio clip was playing. [... ... ... Wait what are you... is...are you watching? No! aw fuck! Put... put it down. Ok, put it down. Don't press play, man. Look, I know you're scared, and...and I know this looks like a good idea and...and they look like they're having fun but this isn't the answer, man. Okay? I mean, who knows how big you could get? We're in this tiny , cramped basement. You gotta think, man. Think about it. ....] "We are... we're thinking of ...awwwwww....getting bigger." "Ohhh yeah, getting stronger...." "Taller..." "Broader..." [...you could crush everyone here. Aw, fuck. GRRRRRUH No, man. UUURUH HUUH! Look what you're doing to yourself....] "Hmmmm yeah....growing...." "Grrrrrowing" "GROWING!" "Getting bigger..." "and stronger..." "Muscles exploding..." "Height increasing...." [...awww fuck. Getting too fucking big. HRRRRRRUAH Your arms and your fucking chest. Can you even bend your arms? Aw gawd damn it, somebody just no... no....ok... he's gotten so big he can't move. No you don't...you don't have to hold him back. He unplugged... siiiigh.... look at you...fucking pecs up against your chin. You fuckin' mountain of a man. BEAST...] "Yeah...mountain of man!" "Beast!" "BEAST!" "Oooooh huh huh huh fucking growing bigger!" "AH-HUH...huh....and hmmmmf bigger!" [...Me, the beast. You found me. What do you....what...what are you even looking for? Why are you all fucking hunting for me here? GRRROOOOW Yeah, you did that. You're as big as you're gonna get, big guy. Look at yourself. Fuck, why would you need to be any bigger? You're already too big to leave this fucking basement. Already too massive to go near another human for fuck sake. GRRRROW......] "Hmmmmm yeah...grow..." "Grow bigger!" "Grow more!" "Grow taller!" "Grow stronger... nnnhuh huh huh huh" "Huh huh huh grow denser..." "Thicker... huh huh" "Broader...huh huh huh..." "just growing and growing..." "And not wanting to stop...." "Keep getting bigger and bigger..." "More and more muscular..." "More and more hung..." "Bigger balled...." [....you're pinning me down. You're so fucking heavy, man! Fuck. What are you doing? You're going to crush me here. ... Wait... GRRRROW.... No! .... Put the cell phone down. GRRRROW Take the headphones.... YOOOOOU.... out my ears. Auuuuuu....fuck, man turn it off. Ooooh fuck. I can't... I can't listen to this, man. I've listened to this for hours and hours editing these. ... Oh God! Oh! I can feel it already! Awww-huh... oh God, it's so much. Please...] "Yeah.... huh huh huh growing!" "Growing bigger!" "Makin' everyone look small." "and smaller..." "like children...huh huh..." "Like babies.... and getting smaller...." "Cause we're getting bigger... so much bigger...huh huh huh...." "So much larger...huh huh..." "Taller.... huh huh..." "Broader!... huh huh..." "Thicker!.... huh huh..." "Fuller!.... huh huh..." "More swole!... huh huh..." "Denser! ..... huh huh..." "Stronger!.... huh huh..." "More defined and cut! huh huh..." " huh huh...bigger feet! ... huh huh..." " huh huh... taking up blocks.... huh huh..." " huh huh... stretching for miles.... huh huh..." " huh huh... our pinky toe is covering the whole city... huh huh..." " huh huh...our cocks growing to half our body length... huh huh..." " huh huh...our balls inflating to half way down our thighs.... huh huh..." " huh huh... huh huh...producing... huh huh...some much... huh huh... cum!" "It'll huh huh...flood... huh huh...the whole... huh huh..... town.... huh huh..." "I'm gonna.... huh huh...gonna huh huh...blow.... huh huh..." "Do it... huh huh...Brent.... huh huh...when you blow!....OOOOOoooh....you huh huh... grow!" "Bi...bi...bigger...." "Ssss..ssst...strong.... huh huh... stronger..." "AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! OOOOOOOH! HUH! HUH AAAAAUHHHH! "OH FUCK!" smack... smack... cough...laugh... "Oh, my god, Josh... are you ok? Did I get you?" "Yeah... you produced some load there and blasted it really far... You hit my mouth..." "Oh...sorry." "No... it's okay... kind of hot..." "Have you blown yet?" "No... that kind of shock surprised me..." "Then let me help... " And Brent's hand went to his buddy's cock. "AAAUUGH! Brent.... oooooh..." "You're still growing..." "Auuuuuuh huh huh..." "Bigger...." "huh huh..." "Stronger..." "huh huh..." "Taller..." "Hmmmmmnnnnnooooooo!" "16' tall." "huh...huh....huh..." "25 feet tall." "huh...huh....huh..." "50 feet tall!" "huh...huh....huh..." "100 hundred feet tall!" "huh...huh....huh..." "200!" "huh...huh....huh...ooooooOOOOH" "400!" "HMMMMMMMMF! huh huh huh huh huh...." "800!" "AAAAAUUUUU huh huh huh huh SHIT! huh huh" "SIXTEEN HUJNDRED!" "OH FUCK! HUH HUH HUH HUH HUH!" "FUCKING THIRTY TWO HUNDRED FOOT TALL MUSCLE BOUND GOD WITH A COLOSSAL COCK AS LONG AS YOU ARE TALL!" "AAAAAIIIIIII AAAAAAAIIII FUCK! BRENT! OH! STOP! STOP! OOOH!" "TEN THOUSAND FOOT TALL! SITTING ON YOUR BALLS AND YOUR COCK IS TWICE AS LONG ARE YOUR TALL!" "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NNO NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND FEET TALL!..." "AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH OH! AH! AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! OH HUH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" "huh...huh....huh..." "huh...huh....huh..." "huh...huh....huh..." "huh...huh....huh..." "Hmmmmm we're even... I aimed you towards me and got me too. haha..." "Ahaaa hooooooooo." "Need to clean up after that." "Yeah...." So the two cleaned up, changed clothes and went to go to sleep. "Hey, Josh?" "Yeah?" "You think I'd look good as a body builder? I'm thinking of starting to really lift." "Hell, yeah...If you can pack on muscle onto that six foot three inch frame of yours, you'd be one of the bigger bodybuilders. Especially if you have decent muscle bellies to build." "Hmmmmm..." The two drifted off to sleep. Joshua had some weird and wild dreams. All about growth of course. Him growing into a decent sized athlete, which then one day during a game just suddenly hulked out in muscle, splitting his uniform into strips of fabric. Then he switched to competing on the Mr. Olympia stage, his muscles dwarfing everybody else. Then one day during a competition he began to grow and grow, getting taller and taller, growing even thicker, harder, denser, and stronger. His package getting bigger and bigger overflowing the tight briefs that were already getting tighter and tight until he burst forth from and kept growing until he burst out of the auditorium and massive muscled giant. Suddenly there was Brent approaching him, smiling, and saying... "Josh! Wake up! Wake up, man! Something's happened!" Groggily, Josh looked up at his jerk buddy and blinked until his vision cleared. "What happened? Someone break in? One of our cars stolen?" "No...something weird and kind of wonderful. I don't fit into my shoes." "What?" Joshua sat up in the bed. "What do you mean you don't fit into your shoes?" "Exactly that. My feet grew. Look." And with that he plopped his size twelve sneaker on the floor and then placed his foot on top of it. Joshua stared in amazement. "Your foot is like slightly longer than your shoe!" "Yeah... I've tried on the other pairs of shoes; they fit into a size sixteen now. Some nice thick, muscular manly feet for me. Not only that, look at me. I've thinned out, but it's not just being skinny, I have the body of a swimmer. If I start working out, I don't have to work through losing weight and toning up. I already am. And I'm an inch taller too. Look. I've marked it up on the wall." Using a tape measure he had in his travel case, Brent showed the height mark on the wall it came up to exactly seventy-six inches or six feet four inches. He then backed himself up against the wall showing his head hitting that mark exactly. "Holy cow! You have grown!" said Joshua, excitedly and standing up. "WHOA!" said Brent while backing up. "What? What's wrong?" "You've grown too!" "What?" And Joshua then took that moment to look around and realized his point of view had changed and changed dramatically from where it usually was. "Josh, I think you're as tall as I am..." Brent pulled Joshua over to the wall and sure enough, his head came up to the same mark as Brent's. "Oh my gawd! I'M TALL!" Brent came up beside Joshua and planted one of his feet firmly next to one of Joshua's. "Not only that, looks like you wear the same size shoe too, size sixteen." "Sixteen...."

Your Growing Body and You by F_R_Eaky "You just come in and sit down, buddy. No need to do anything right now, especially after that horrible layover." said Dillon, Ricky's friend, as he pushed Ricky into the living room and onto the couch. "I'll take your bag and throw it into your room. You just sit and relax and I'll figure something out for dinner. How 'bout pizza?" "Dillon, we're two college age guys, of course pizza is an option." "Great, I've got some homemade dough already proofed that I can use. I'll just see what kind of ingredients you have left in this house. You just sit and get comfortable." "Well, you've got this house just like mom used. It's stifling in here. If I'm gonna get comfortable, I'm gonna take my shirt off. Will that bother you?" Dillon laughed. "Really? Will it bother me? Did you forget what I told you when you told me beginning of this school year that you were going to tell your mom?" "Yeah yeah yeah... I know. You told me you were gay too and that I shouldn't worry about coming out." "Right. And sorry, bud.... but I like my men with a little bit of meat on them." "A little bit of meat?!? More like Alpha Mr. Olympia on growth hormones." "Hey... we all have our fetishes, mine is really built guys. Yes, one has to look a bit like Hercules before I start worshipping them." Ricky stood there looking questioningly at Dillon for a bit. "Alright... alright... if a guy has the slightest definition, bit of muscular bulge, I'm all over them. If he's built like an Olympian, I worship him like a god, especially if he's a hairy colt model kind of guy that's hung to here! There... I've said it. I'm a size queen, but just remember you've shown me some pics of the guys you're interested in at school and none of them would be able to enter the lightweight division I can assure you." "Yeah yeah.... I like muscle too. I just wish I could build more of it. My personality isn't exactly twink like and that's all anyone wants me to be." "Well... don't think about it over break. You just think about relaxing and what you want to do. Speaking of which, there's a box on the coffee table. It was in your mom's bedroom but it was marked as 'Things for Enrique.' I figured that'll be the easiest box to start on since it was stuff to be given to you and not her personal items. The other box over there is your family's Christmas tree and ornaments. I'm not sure what else decoration wise you guys have, but figured, if you wanted to put that up at least, it's up from the basement." "I'll think about that later. You, get in the kitchen. I'm starving. Airplane food sucks." "Yeah, I know, right!" Dillon went back into the kitchen as Ricky pulled off his sweater and dress shirt and then plopped his very lanky and thin 6' 1" frame onto the couch. He looked at the box and let out a big sigh. "Mom" he thought. "I miss you so much." End of September he had just traveled back to his college to start his Sophomore year. He was working a part time job off campus, one on campus, and studied his ass off for good grades and scholarship. On occasion he would get some extra money from his mom now and then, but two weeks into the new school year he got the phone call from his best friend, Dillon: his mom had an aneurism and died in her sleep. Without his mom he knew things would be even harder to pay for, so he didn't want to suspend or drop this fall term. Instead he made call in arrangements for the wake, funeral, and came in on a couple of weekends for the same and then for the reading of the will and arrangements for the house. Luckily the house had been paid off, and his mom had set it up under a company so that Ricky could take control of it as the new CEO of the company, but not necessarily ownership of it, and that way he wouldn't have to pay inheritance tax on the property and home. The company board made up by his mom consisted of herself, her brother - Ricky's uncle, Ricky, Dillon, and the local priest, Father Birch. His father had passed when he was very young, the grandparents as well. So there really was only Ricky and his uncle in the family now. Although his mom and he always managed to count Dillon. Dillon was like Ricky except his father hadn't died, he just up and left when Dillon was two, and his mother was still alive. However, because neither had a dad, the two became fast friends and stuck by each other since they first met, second grade through high school. The two were definitely a contrast to one another, yet were a match for being so odd in looks. Dillon was six foot tall and very stocky - that kind of build that looked almost like fat but was complete solid like muscle. He had kind of the outline form or shape of a muscular man, but when he turned sideways one could see a little bit of a belly. He had a natural kind of olive/tan look to him, which was odd as he was a natural blond in hair coloring, and then even more off because he had the deepest brown eyes one ever saw. He had a semi-square jaw that was hidden just a little by fat around the jowls. His arm pits were pretty hairy, he had a small little trail that started just above his navel, went around it, and proceeded down, as well as two circles of hair that went around his areolas and nips. His arms and legs had hair too, but it was very fine and thin. Now, Ricky was the opposite, but just as off matched. His was six foot one inch tall, very thin, almost too thin, with a skin that was nearly alabaster in color. His body was crowned by a thick head of jet black hair that frequently liked to hide the most sparkling emerald eyes one ever saw, however he didn't have any hair anywhere else, or it was barely there, almost as if he hadn't gone through puberty. It was very confusing for teachers at first, as they'd call out, "Enrique Cabriola?" and expect to see someone tan, kind of swarthy looking, black or deep brown hair, with brown eyes, but the "HERE!" would come from a black haired, green eyed albino. Because of being so skinny, Ricky was frequently picked on, and although he wanted to be more athletic, he simply couldn't put on any weight, neither fat nor muscle. Originally his mom and teachers figured he'd be destined for playing basketball or some sport as he hit a rather tall height early, like age twelve, but he just stopped there, maybe an in or two from age 12 to his current age of 20. And it wasn't just for sports; he'd always wished he could be bigger in muscular size. Sometimes, depending upon how picked on he was, he wished he could be taller too. A really big behemoth of a man, with mountains of muscle that towered over his bullies, but that was not to come. His mom tried to help him feel special anyway, and teach him that he was just fine; he just needed to find out what his talents were and develop them. Not everyone had to be a sports star or great athlete. Ricky grew up alright though, with his friend Dillon beside him, and mom's encouragement. He decided to go away to college and was studying computer sciences. He was coming home for Christmas break to sort out items of his mom's that he knew neither him nor his uncle would need or want, set a sale or donation of her clothes. His arrival was late as there was a delay in his plane's departure at the airport. This in turn meant that instead of coming home on Sunday evening, he wouldn't get in until late Monday morning. This of course ruined being picked up at the airport by Dillon because he had to go to school and work. Instead he hung around the airport shops until late afternoon, then took metro ride to his hometown where he was picked up at the station by Dillon that evening. And now, there he was... sitting in the living room of his house, no other soul, save Dillon, was there. Dillon was asked to help look after the place, so he made sure the heat was on and working, that any pipes not being used while Ricky was gone were turned off, the electricity was on, but barely used, the yard cleaned and mowed, and so on and so forth. Now... Now there was just this break to get some stuff done and a house that felt empty even though there was a plethora of furniture in it. Sighing he sat up and began rummaging through the box his mom had left for him. There was an envelope with some money in it, some used books on computer technology, much of it out of date, but at least she was trying to think of him. Some other knick-knacks and bric-a-brack were there and then one other item caught his eye: it was an old film and movie projector. "I hear you rummaging in there... anything good?" "Naw...not really. There was an envelope with some money in it. I guess mom was going to ship this box to me some point during the school year." "That's good. Anything else?" "No....although there is an old film and a movie projector." "Are they home movies or something?" "No.... we would've had those at least on VCR tapes if not digital recording. We had at least some high tech savvyness." Dillon laughed. "So what do you think the film is then?" "Not sure... it says... get this, on old lettering tape, the kind that you had to put through a clicker thing where you dialed the letters gave it a squeeze and then moved to the next letter..." "Oh wow... that is old school!" "Anyhow the tape on the film canister says, 'Your Body and You.'" "Oh my gawd. It sounds like one of those films from the 1950's about puberty." "Why would she give me something like that?" "I don't know. She was always trying to help boost your self esteem about your physical appearance. Maybe this was one last boost." "Whatever..." Ricky laughed. "You should put it on. It's going to take a while to produce dinner and those films from the Fifties are so cheesy, they're always good for a laugh." Ricky sat for a moment and thought..."why not? This'll be my way of honoring and remembering mom." With that, Ricky set up the projector, turned to face it against a wall and took a couple of pictures down, as a movie screen hadn't come with the projector and film, then he pulled the film out of the canister and loaded it up. A few clicks here and there and the hum of the machine started and Ricky plopped himself down to enjoy the amusing take on puberty from the nineteen-fifties. "Acme Body Products presents: 'Your Body and You!' : A film about boy growing into young men through puberty and becoming adults. We going to visit a local high school to find out our answers. It could be any high school anywhere in the country, and it's probably just like yours. Why look! We're coming into a gymnasium and there is the basketball team just breaking from practice. And there leading them is their coach. Hello, Coach!" "Oh, hello there. Nice to meet you. I'm Coach Johnson. I help coach most of the teams here at the high school. We're just getting done with basketball practice. I understand you have a few questions about your body. No, don't worry. It's normal to have them number one, because there are a lot things happening inside and to your body and number two, because like any other red-blooded young man you probably want to join a sports team of some sort, you probably wonder what sport you and your body can play. "For instance you might have wondered if you could play basketball, but noticed that many of the players on the team seem exceptionally tall. You, yourself maybe short right now, or you think yourself short standing next to them and wonder if you could play well with them, or against other players like them. Or perhaps your thing is football, but you've noticed many of the young men on the varsity team are pretty big and broad and next to them you still look like a small child. Well, let me you tell you something you might not have known or realized. None of them were as big or tall as they are right now say six, five, four or even two years ago. They were all like you, smaller in stature and size, but grew up and into their frames to become the athletes they are today. "Which is why I'm here. I'm here to look at young men's potential, see what they have to work with, what kind of body they'll grow into, and to help them hone and train that body. So, I've seen all kinds of combinations and body sizes, know how to train them, how to fuel and take care of them, and how to mend them. Which is exactly what I'm going to talk to you about today. Come on back here to the coaches office and we can talk personally without any fear of being interrupted. ... ... ... "There we go, have a seat. Let me call your attention to some charts as I explain what's going to happen to your body. There is no exact set pattern to puberty and what happens to each young boy. There are some basic similarities: you will get taller than you once were, a little broader and more muscular, you'll become a bit hairier, and your private parts will grow and become frequently aroused. However, how much of this happens to every boy depends upon their genetics, what genes they received from their parents, grandparents, and forefathers before them. So some young men wind up very, very tall, while other are short, and the majority wind up in a range that's called average. Some young men wind up very big and muscular, other remain thin, and many become what's known as an average build somewhere between the two. "Now the first thing you need to know is that puberty can happen at various time for young men. The age range is listed as around 12-16 for most young men, but it can happen as early as 10 or as late as 17 or 18. They are known respectively as early or late bloomers. Nothing wrong with either of them they just started their journey earlier or later than most of the boys. Don't get frustrated or worried if you are a late bloomer. Some young men don't have their growth spurts until age 19 or 20. In fact young men have been known to grow until age 25. That of course is a rarity and probably [sKIP] happen to you." Ricky shifted on the couch suddenly feeling a very warm tingling sensation all over his body, almost as if a warm stream of water went down his spine. "The first thing that's going to happen is that your testicles, sometimes in slang terms referred to as your balls are going to drop. We'll explain a little more about what happens to them later, but for now the important thing to remember is they, in conjunction with the pituitary gland are what begins to send signals throughout your body tell it, it needs to grow and grow now! "One of the first things that will happen is that your feet and hands are going to start to grow. They will become longer, wider, and will begin to create some problems for you. The hands won't be so much of a problem. Oh, you may find yourself dropping things here and there because where once you had these tiny little pincers to grab onto things and now you have these larger mitts to engulf those objects, but that won't present too many problems. "The big problem will come with your growing feet. You've been used to them at an approximate size and proportion to your body most of your life, but now they're going to prep for your body's growth spurt and they will become proportionately larger than the rest of your body. See this shoe, it's a men's shoe size six. Now your younger body has been used to carrying, lifting up, and stepping forward a foot this size, but suddenly it's getting longer and wider, preparing itself to match the taller bigger body you will have. So now, your legs that were used to say perhaps this size six foot, are now having to suddenly move a size 8, 10, maybe even a really big size 12 or giant size 16. How big your feet will get depends upon what kind of genetics your family has. Smaller feet usually appear on shorter individuals, while larger feet are on taller individuals. It's alright [sKIP] you have [sKIP] a pair of gigantic dawgs. [sKIP] even [sKIP] overly [sKIP] large for [sKIP] your [sKIP] tall frame [sKIP]..." Ricky began to squirm and fidget his legs and feet. His shoes were getting tight, really tight, and beginning to pinch his toes something fierce. Ricky almost thought of moaning or groaning, something, but decided to try and keep quiet as he didn't want to worry Dillon. Soon however the pain was becoming intense. Looking down at his converse sneakers he could see the canvas was being pushed out all over and his shoe was beginning to morph into the shape of a foot. He could see his toes pushing up and forward in the front of his shoe. He could feel his heel spreading out wider and over the back of his shoe. Suddenly the were this micro bursts of sound as if little pieces of fabric were being torn. Then there were pieces of snapping as if lacing or threads were being broken in half. The smaller series of rips began to turn into louder and longer ones. Suddenly Ricky felt relief and a cool sensation of air hitting his feet, even though they were still covered in his socks, which surprisingly were beginning to ride down his shins. Ricky lay there in awe as he watched his feet growing bigger and bigger, fuller and wider. The toes stretching out so long, yet becoming very thick. The top arch of his feet and the whole of his foot becoming wider and higher, even his heel. His feet began to feel so heavy...and dense.... He reached over to the coffee table to grab a glass of juice Dillon had left for him, but he caused it to tip over and off the table. His arm reach was where it was supposed to be, but the opening of his hands to grasp it just before contact, his fingers smacked it and sent it flying. He now sat and looked at his hands as the pulsed and grew. His fingers stretched and reached growing longer and longer. His palm pulsed and widened become a huge bear like paw. "Now don't worry about all the tripping and flipping you'll do. You'll eventually get used to those larger hands and feet, and then have to contend with longer legs, arms, and torso. As your body develops and gets bigger, you will have to learn to adjust and get comfortable with your new size. Once you do that, you won't be looking like a clumsy klutz all the time. "Speaking of how big your limbs will get, you'll probably want to know how tall are you going to grow? Well, again, that depends upon the genetics of your family. The average range listed for most young men is anywhere from 5 to 9 inches taller. Now don't worry guys if your family is shorter in stature. It doesn't mean you wind up with only two or three inches of growth spurt, just that you start out at a shorter height than most and therefore still remain shorter. Although sometimes some genetics mislead one. There have been some reports of young men going through a 10, 12, or 14 inch growth spurt. A lot of times those great spurts happen to the late bloomers as well. I've had one young man who came in as a freshman all of five feet two inches tall and he watched during all of his high school life as the other boys grew and grew and grew taller than him. Then one day it happened - WHAM! - his body went into over drive. Within the course of year we were looking a new tall and proud young man who stood a towering six feet four inches tall! There are even reports of a young man who apparently had a sixteen inch growth spurt. And then some young men continue to grow during college anywhere from a half an inch to two inches. However, that sixteen inch and the couple of inches in college are probabl[sKIP] and [sKIP] happen to you. ... ... ..." Once again Ricky felt that warm sensation feeling tingle all up and down his body. Without moving his legs or feet he began to watch his feet move from where they were lying, moving off of the remnants of his old tennis shoes and moving towards the end of the couch. But the angle of viewing his feet was becoming weird too... for his head was raising higher and higher from the couch. He was growing. He was really growing! He was having an honest to goodness growth spurt. His legs and arms just kept growing and lengthening, he could see the hems of his sleeves riding up his arm. The cuff of his pants riding up his legs. He could feel the shoulders of his shirt pulling in snug and then tight... tighter across his back. Up to the ankles his cuffs rose, then to the bottom of the shin, then up further to the bottom of his calves, finally resting about half way up them. His short shirt sleeves rode up his biceps, higher and higher, until they were in that in between space where the deltoids and the upper arms met. Still they rose higher, for his torso was growing taller as well, and his shoulders and back were getting wider too. This cause his sleeve to ride up half way over the deltoids. Not only that but the hem of his shirt was now so short to him it was a mid-drift. Ricky winced in pain every once in a while. It was so intense, all this throbbing and piercing pain he felt from his growing. "You may have heard the term, 'growing pains.' This is a feeling of pain, almost like you've been suddenly poked, or stabbed with a very thin sharp object, or maybe even like you've been stung. It's ok. Nothing is wrong. It's just that your body is growing at an incredible rate and sometimes this makes the bones and joints feel tired, worn, and achy." Slowly but surely, Ricky's growth slowed down and then came to a halt. He breathed a few minutes trying to relax himself, calm down, and hopefully the pain would lessen, when suddenly his body gave a few jolts of pain, a few forward lurches so to speak, and his vision just suddenly ... POP! ... POP!... rose higher ever so slightly. His feet rammed and pushed into the far arm rest of the couch just a bit further. Then his body relaxed and his pain began to ease. Figuring he needed to stretch a little to work some of the pains and kinks out , he moved his legs and feet and put them up on top of the far arm rest. He couldn't believe how small he was making the couch look now. "Another thing that's going to happen to you is your suddenly going to get a bit more muscular. Now again, don't worry if you don't seem to develop into a Hercules of sports. Some men have great muscular genetics, some don't. Not everyone is going to have the necessary body type to build an astonishing physique, even if they take up the new fad sport sweeping the country called bodybuilding. "You see there are three types of bodies: endomorph, mesomorph, and ectomorph. Ectomorphs are those who are average on down to those who can't seem to put on any muscle at all. They are the very skinny to the average built guys that most everyone sees. Then there are the endomorphs who are the people who frames carry a lot of heavy weight, but not muscular, it's more fat. They are the young men who are healthy, husky, or even heavy and fat. And don't be upset if you are fat. Different people developed different body types depending upon where they were raised. Take for example the Inuits in the northern most part of North America. Many of them are pretty chubby. One might even say fat. However this is a level and layer of fat that became built in their DNA because they live in an extremely cold climate and in order to survive, they needed not only good clothing, but also a body that developed a good layer of fat to help protect them from the cold harsh winters where it can get down to some very frigid temperatures. "Now the third kind of body is the mesomorphs and these are the people who look like they are built of nothing but muscle. It comes so easy to them, it appears that if they think about working out, their muscles are already twice the size they were at the end of the day. They are the ones who are listed as being raw-boned or Herculean. They look like the great statues from museums come to life, and are usually some of the greatest athletes around. "In truth though everyone's body is actually a combination of at least two of these body types, never are they really just one kind. Someone might be a bit skinny and muscular, or skinny and fat, muscular and fat. You will [sKIP] find [sKIP] mesomorph and mesomorph [sKIP] [sKIP] [sKIP] to be you. "'But Coach,' you say, 'What about Johnny Jones who lives down the street from me or Billy Boyd who I heard about on the news. They are extremely skinny and the other is extremely muscular. Well both those conditions are syndromes where the body isn't producing some kind of hormone properly. One makes the body exceptionally thin and weak, where they can't build any kind of mass - fat or muscle - at all. The other the body over produces a hormone and is prone to develop large, powerful muscles almost to the point of becoming muscle bound. This particular condition is known as myostatin-hypertroph, but this is such a rare instance you will [sKIP] develop it. ...." The warming sensation came over Ricky once again and he began to shift and squirm in his reclining position on the couch. He began to flex his ankles up and down, back and forth. He watched as those ankles became a bit more defined and a bit thicker. He saw veins rising to the top of his skin, fully engorged with blood, travelling, gliding their way up his legs. His calves began to breath in and out with the pounding of his heart, the pulsing of his blood, and with each beat and breath they became larger....and larger.....more defined....Bigger....harder.....heart shaped....diamond shape....hope diamond sized diamond shape.... Ricky watched as his calves inflated with so much muscle strength and power that the bottom part of his pants soon were becoming very tight to his calves. Then they were becoming molded, form fitting to them. His pants were restricting, or at least trying to be restricting, becoming tightly bound around his calves and stretched thin like seranwrap. Finally the sound of small snaps were being heard here...there...everywhere until a loud series of rips fill the air and the cuffs of his jeans burst open revealing his colossal calves in all their growing glory, and boy did they continue to grow in size, density, and power! Ricky didn't have the ability to watch the grow further for he suddenly watched as all the wrinkles in the top part of his pants get pulled tight and taught, and then mounds...tear drop shape mound began to appear on each leg. One.....two!....Three!.... FOURFIVESIX! It was almost as if his legs were a bag being vacuum sealed. The pants just became filled to the brim showing the definition and size of his monstrously growing quads! And it wasn't just the top. Ricky could feel the chord that was his hamstring pull tighter and become thicker and stronger. It began to fight against the jeans as well. Soon joining it was the thigh's biceps, the back part of the leg muscle, growing, bulging, inflating, become dense, hard, and strong. It began to rise his legs up off the couch cushions much like the calves had done for his shins. Ricky could tell if he was lying on a hard wood floor with his legs stretched out, the back part of his knee would never, ever touch the floor because of the size of his calves and thighs. POP! POP! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP rri rii riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip ri rrriii riiiiiiiiiiiiip Suddenly there it was, the seams gave way. His thighs actually just pulled them apart and then tore them all the way up to his crotch. Even with those main seams giving way, his thighs were still ballooning so big and full that the denim of his jeans began tearing in other places and ripping all the way up towards his waist band. "Oooh- HOO!" Ricky wasn't sure what to do... He felt a sharp pain in his groin. His thighs were bunching and mounding so full and out they were pressing in on his balls, as well as pushing them up, forward and out. The only problem is, his cock was resting over them and between his inflating quads and his now much larger midsection and crotch area due to his growth in height, there was nowhere for his balls to be pushed! Into the cock they went who was pressed against the fabric and zipper. His button had snapped simple because of the ration of girth between a young man of six foot one inch tall and one now roughly seven and half feet tall... or so. PRRRRRRRRRRRRRIP! The zipper finally gave way to the pressure of the pushing of Ricky's gonads and cock. It pulled apart and spread as wide open as it would go, but it didn't provide much relief as his briefs still held tight, tight indeed. Still Ricky squirmed and wiggle while laid out on the couch. The warming sensation had moved up into his ass and he could feel it thump and plump, mound and round, getting harder, denser, fuller, more and more bubbled. It was becoming a very nice and round firm ass that matched his thighs in size and power. STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERIP! Ricky sat up a bit in an unexpected jolt. The back of his jeans just blew apart straight down the middle as if they wished to mimic the fine crack of Ricky's ass. Although his underwear was still there, albeit beginning to look more like a thong than tighty-whities, he could still feel the rush of cooler air caress his butt cheeks and make his hole pucker. Then, despite the fact that the waist band button had already popped off, he began to feel his flesh, his midsection dig into his pants. Looking down below his now mid-drifting t-shirt, he saw as he breathed his obliques and abdominal muscles come into being. Each breath the outlines became etched in that much clearer, that much deeper. All the individual muscles began to push out just a little further, to mound out a little more. Bit by bit, brick by brick they all came in, until although he was still tight waisted, his midsection was a thick column of granite blocks and interlocking and bunching in tandem to create the hottest and hardest looking set of washboard abs ever seen on a professional bodybuilder. Reaching down with his hand to try and rub it over his new lower torso, he kept having to readjust because his arms where getting pushed away. Then after four or five times of his arms getting pushed away, he began to notice that his shirt hem was getting tight around the upper part of his torso. There began two tears one on either side of his body at the hem line of his shirt and they slowly just ripped and tore all the way open from the middle of his torso to his armpits as his lats grew wider and wider, thicker and broader become a truly magnificent set of wings on his upper torso. "HUH!" Ricky took in a short gasp of breath and then pinned his arms down at his sides as best as he could, the inner sides of his biceps and triceps, what litter there were feeling the bulk and weight, heat and power of his lats growing and growing. But if he was hoping to keep his ever shrinking shirt on him, his body was having none of that. trrrk trrrk shrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk! His back and shoulders had decided to join those airplane wing sized lat muscles, growing bigger and wider, broader and thicker. If he could have seen it, he would have seen his back widening to reveal a v.....Widening to diamond.....WIDENIIIIIIIIIIIIING into the upside down Christmas tree. It split the back part of the held t-shirt wide open from bottom to neck line. It pushed his delts further and further apart until the sleeves completely rode up onto the deltoids; they came nowhere near the muscles of the upper arm. Two more pops were heard and Ricky's traps began to rise higher and higher, mounding more and more, growing in thickness and height. Ricky could feel them pushing in on his neck, sitting heavy on his shoulders and back, growing and rising higher and higher 'til he swore they touched the bottom of his ears. They caused the shirt to rise up and take their form and attempt to cling to deltoids as best they could yet utter fail as the tore the top seam apart and rose through the holes it made. But Ricky took no notice of that. He simply kept feeling his shirt giving way like his jeans did and he knew he was soon to be a near naked giant... a giant hulk! He was trying to figure out when it would end when he began to feel a heaviness and warmth seep into his chest. He sat motionless, arms still forced down at his sides, pinning the remain fabric down, but he watched as that fabric became stretch tighter and tighter, further and farther, becoming harder and harder to keep a loose shape, to be pinned down, to remain whole and intact. At first it looked like he had developed some boobs. Not real girls boobs full and voluptuous, but like an adolescent boy who just started to gain some weight. There was a chest, a little more cone and mound like than should be. However in a few breaths that mound began to travel down and form two solid crescents that began to flex and bounce together with a muscular twitch every now and then. They continued to spread pushing both up and out becoming like two small plates, making it seem like they were pushing up Ricky's clavicle and perhaps pushing his nipples down? More breaths, more spreading, more growing and indeed they had ground round and solid the size of two large platter, definitely pushing his shirt out and almost up off of them. The top part rose higher and mounded more pulling the hem of the shirt up the bottom quarter of themselves, while the lower part of the pectorals began barrel out wider and swell forward even more and then the nipples came out from under that shrinking hem and began to point downward. Still they grew and grew into the two huge globes of solid mass with a slight oval shape to them hanging precariously over the abdomen threatening to move down and engulf the first row of cobblestones and hide it. Ricky's nipples kissing the cool air grew a little longer and became hard. They pushed the arms further out to Ricky's side and challenged the lats for space, while pushing his traps up even higher. Suddenly there was a loud rip and the front of Ricky's shirt burst wide open showing a set of ginormous pecs that bounced up and down separately, alternating one side and the other, for if they bounced or flexed together, anything caught between the enormous chasm that was the cleft line between them would be crushed to dust whether it was made of wood , steel, or even perhaps diamonds. The warmth spread back up Ricky's shoulders and into his delts causing them to swell like inflating balloons. Small hand balls....fffffffft; softballs..... fffffffft; rubber playground balls......fffffffft; bowling balls.....fffffffft; soccer balls... The sleeves, now so diminutive on Ricky's frame and musculature, gave up the ghost almost immediately and split in several places due to his swelling deltoids. All Ricky had of his shirt now was a collar with strips of fabric hanging from it. Now, however, Ricky was having a difficult time keeping himself balanced on the couch. His back and lats were already causing him to list slightly to the left and a little bit off the couch. Spreading to his arms, the warm was causing them to grow and inflate. Involuntarily Ricky began to pop and flex his upper arms then extend his arms all the way out. Each time he did so there was swelling. There was growth. There was power. Over and over again Ricky watched as the ball of his biceps grew and grew, reached and peaked over and over much like his deltoids did: the handball, the baseball, the softball, the foot ball, the miniature mountain peak, the nearly square formation! All the while that was happening his triceps were growing as well, expanding and increasing in size and shape in the opposite direction. Larger and larger, forming the huge horseshoe shape and then some until between the biceps and itself Ricky's upper arm was most assuredly as large, if not larger round than his own head! The growth and warmth spread down to his forearms causing Ricky to keep flexing and twisting his wrists causing those forearms to bulge and pop and swell and grow until Popeye himself would be jealous of Ricky's size and development. Then Ricky began to swallow hard and crane his neck. He felt himself hold his head higher, and his neck and back stood straighter. His traps that already pushed upward on his head pushed further up and then spread out as Ricky's neck got thicker and thicker, more and more developed. It was a twig, a broom handle, billy club, tree club, tree trunk, marble column. Where once Ricky looked like a bobble head with a big head and thin spring to support it, he now had a massive and muscular neck that was not only as wide as his own head, but went just that tad farther and was as wide as the outside of one ear to the outside of the other. Ricky still lying on the couch that he was now much taller than its length and broader than its depth, tried to think on moving... just a bit. He was so huge now... so built....so muscular....so heavy. But he had forgotten about something that was still running. "Besides the growth of your bones and your muscles, other things will be happening to your body. For instance you may begin to notice that hair begins to appear on your body, perhaps all over. Some men can become very heavy while other develop very little hair. Some men will have what they call a five o'clock shadow, which means their beards are growing in so thick, dark and fast, that even though they shaved at six o'clock that morning, by five p.m. that night you can already see a slight stubble of a beard covering their chin and jaw line. "For some of you, you won't grow that much hair at all, but will grow it where almost every man does: some facial hair, although it might be very fine and hard to grow a mustache and beard, under the arms, around the groin, and perhaps a little over the forearms and the legs. "Still others may almost grow into bears with hair all over their bodies. [sKIP] you are [sKIP] a bear you [sKIP] find hair all over you face, n[sKIP] sh[sKIP] b[sKIP], chest, abdomen, b [sKIP] groin, thighs, shins and calves. Don't worry about being too hairy, men develop into all sorts of various shapes, sizes, and even hairiness." Ricky felt the warm sensation again, followed by an itchiness all over his body. He wanted to scratch, but after doing so for a couple of minutes it began to hurt, so he turned to simply rubbing his hands all over his body. But as he began to do so he began to feel this strange sensation. It felt like he wasn't just rubbing his skin anymore but something kind of like sand paper, then a very short wire brush, then a slightly softer bristle brush, then something kind of furry, then he could actually run his hair through the fibers like... like it was... it was hair. Actually looking himself up and down as best as he could manage over his protruding pectorals, he could see that his legs and arms were covered in hair, and so too was his chest. He moved one hand down under his chest to feel his abs and then down to his crotch and he could feel hair all the way down. It was soft and feathery but thick. Thick enough that even his long and thick giant fingers could sift down into and run through it. Mean while his other hand had traveled up to his face and he could feel the prickliness that was stubble all across his jaw line, running along the hard modelesque angles of his cheek bones, over his upper lip, up the side near his ear. It made a scritch sound when he rubbed his hands over it. "One of the other effects of all the growth hormones is that a young man's voice begins to change and deepen. Some men may not change to much while others will drop what feels like octaves. Just know that it may transition smoothly almost overnight or it may take several months and your voice will fluctuate up and down in a process we call 'breaking.' Remember it [sKIP] matter if your voice drops [sKIP] low [sKIP] [sKIP] you are [sKIP] a man." Ricky was now becoming more aware of what was happening to him and a bit scared to boot so he tried to call out. "Di-ILL-oooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" In just a few seconds Ricky's voice dropped and dropped very low. It was a big voice, a low voice, a deep and rich voice. Ricky's tried to clear his throat and then tried to just whisper Dillon's name. Even whispering, the rumble from his voice was so much, even Ricky felt the rumble vibrate in his chest. "Now the last set of changes will talk about is with your penis and your testicles. Remember your testicles, sometimes known as balls? We mentioned them at the very beginning of our talk. They, along with the pituitary gland are what started you on this whole journey. "You will find your testicles begin to get a little bit in the way. You might not have every really noticed or felt them there in your groin before, but now they are very sensitive and every move you seem to make, makes them hurt. This is for two reasons: One you balls used to be carried pretty high up and close to your body, whereas now they are beginning to drop a little bit lower. They do this because of point number two: they like the rest of your body are growing in size. They are helping to produce hormones to make your body grow such as testosterone, as well as producing the thing called seamen and sperm. Sperm is the thing a man produces that, after he's married and wishes to have children with his wife, with which he impregnates his wife. We will talk more about that in another chat sometime, or you can talk with your father about it. I'm certain he knows what to tell you and will be happy to help answer your questions. "For now, just know that your testicles will grow and you will begin to produce sperm and the fluid that helps carry them, seamen. Your body will be producing a good amount of this at first while your body is growing up and changing. In fact, you may be producing so much of it that you will have what is called 'nocturnal emissions.' Nocturnal emissions is where you have produced to much sperm that you have a pleasurable dream in the middle of the night. You might be aware of it, but many young men aren't. What happens is you will wake up in the morning and you may find your pajama pants stuck to you as if glued near the waist band or some other area around the groin. This is because you had a nocturnal emission where your body produced too much seamen and has gotten rid of or ejected some of it out your body, your testicles. Don't be afraid or worried, this happens to every man, and all you have to do is go to the bathroom, take a little soap and a little water upon a wash cloth and wash it off and unstick your pajamas. "You may notice that some men seem to have larger balls while some men have smaller ones. This is again, like the body and muscle size, due to the genetics in one's family. But don't worry [sKIP] the size of your balls. [sKIP] will be big [sKIP]. [sKIP] will produce [sKIP] as big [sKIP] and [sKIP] can produce too much." The warming sensation moved down into Ricky's crotch now and he felt his balls begin to swell and come away from his body just a bit. But they grew and grew. The pain he was feeling earlier was beginning to become too much, way too much. There was already not enough room in the crotch area of the nearly nonexistent jeans and now that was filling up as his balls swelled and grew, became more and more bulbous, got heavier and heavier, became fuller and fuller. He could actually feel his sperm swirling and whiling round and round in his ever increasing ball sack. When it stopped there was definitely a defined little mound just above his thighs and under his cock. A couple of snaps were heard from the zipper area of his jeans and Ricky breathed a little easier. "Of course you're probably wondering how the seamen got out of your body. Well, it does the same way your urine does, through your penis, and that's the last part of the body that goes through a change. As you grow so does your penis. It will begin to become a little bit longer in length and a little bit thicker in girth. It will also begin to have what is called an erection, where it seems to swell a bit larger and become stiff like an iron rod. Don't worry, it's not like a swelling or stiffness as if a reaction to being stung by a bee or severely bruising a muscle. It is a natural thing and it occurs when a large flow of blood fills the chambers of the penis, making it swell, grow in girth and lengthen. When it is in this state, it, and probably you too, are aroused. You will probably find that it does this when you see a young lady you find attractive, but that's more of the discussion your father needs to have with you. "At any rate, you may find that your penis becomes erect in the middle of the night, early in the morning, suddenly at lunch break, in the showers after gym, it frequently happens any time, at the drop of a hat as a young man and his body is developing. When you find this happening when you don't want to, don't think about it or excuse yourself and go take a nice long cold shower. "Now the important part to know is that your penis is just like your body. Size does [sKIP] matter and will be different with each and every young man depending upon his family's genetics. However most men are somewhere between 3.5 to 5.5 inches long when erect. Yours will [sKIP] be [sKIP] like these men here who [sKIP] and have [sKIP] eighteen inches. And don't worry about your penis size when flaccid. From flaccid to erect some penis just become hard and thicker but no longer, while some nearly double in size when becoming erect [sKIP] Yours will [sKIP] believe those old wives tales [sKIP] there is [sKIP] truth to them things like: as long as [sKIP], [sKIP] your shoe size minus two." "AHHHHH!" Ricky took in a sudden gasp of breath as the warmth spread through and down his cock. He felt the shaft just ooze and ooze out longer and longer in his jeans groin pouch and his underwear. On and on it continued getting longer and longer, become thicker and thicker as well. The mound around his crotch grew and grew, spreading out further and further causing the zipper to pull further and further apart than it had been. His cock still growing had grown down, under, and was working its way back toward its own base still inflating in girth as well as the growth continued. Finally there were rips and snaps and tears happening all over the groin and the heavy stitching holding the zipper to the fabric gave way. With that gone the jeans and underwear exploded into shreds, slipping off of Ricky's super schlong and behemoth balls, being pulled all the way off and around by his burgeoning thighs. Ricky stood up trying to keep his balance, trying to move his limbs, trying to see and feel what all had happened to him. He stood for a moment looking at an entertainment center with a glass door and stared at his reflection. He was the hulk! He was behemoth mountain of muscle! He was beyond any Mr. Olympia. Any Basketball player. Any football player. All three of them combined! As he stared at his reflection and began to run his hands up and down his body, feel his nips, heft his cock and balls, feeling how extremely large they felt even in his own hands, he began to become aroused and his cock began to become erect. It rose and rose from the position of the tip hanging almost near his near to jutting out further and further growing more and more until it nearly doubled in size. "Now remember in order to keep a healthy body, as well as a body to protect you if you want to play sports, you need to get out and exercise. In fact it is shown that young men who exercise can be anywhere from one to four inches taller than their fellow classmates who sit around all day and do nothing." "AUUUGH!" Ricky suddenly remember in order to keep his health up from all the class work, class time, and two part time jobs, he'd taken to some training in the gymnasium every night so he would be tired enough to get his eight hours of sleep. Which then of course meant that now, Ricky was suddenly lurching, popping, growing, up another few inches in height. His muscles gained that much more in size, density, and strength. He took a couple of faltering steps to reposition his standing stance. They created a series of very large thuds that made the house rattle and shake tremendously. "WHOA! Someone decided to light off some fireworks in the neighborhood or something. Or there must have been a semi truck and trailer with one hell of a load barreling....through...oh...my...gaw.... .... .... .... Ri....Ricky?!" Having heard the stomps and feeling the shakes, Dillon had come in to make his comments only to see a giant of a man standing in the living room taking up all the vertical space from the floor with his enormous feet, to the ceiling with his hair brushing it, perhaps an inch left. The man was huge, gigantic and turned to face him with the largest set of balls and cock he had ever seen on a man, not to mention that he was built like a shit house made of titanium let alone brick. The top of Dillon's head came just to the bottom of the top row of abs on this gorgeous giant hulk. His arms were easily twice the size of Dillon's head, and the hands could probably engulf Dillon's simply by bending the fingers forward no thumb folding or palm cupping required. This man's thighs were easily bigger round than Dillon was anywhere on his torso, and his feet made Dillon's feet look as if he had none at all. "Dillon...I.... I'm...... I'm huge!" Dillon swallowed hard and made a kind of punch drunk smile. "Yes... Ricky.... you....are." There was suddenly a tenting in Dillon's pants. "Dil...Dillon...are you attracted to me?" "Yeah....Rick...I am very attracted to you." "But I'm a giant...I'm a freak... I'm....I'm...." Dillon cut off Ricky by stepping forward, pulling down on Ricky's enormous cock, and letting it lift him upwards from the springing, until Dillon could grab a hold of Ricky's neck, hang on and plant a kiss, as he kicked of his shoes and placed his feet onto Ricky's cock for support. "You're are fucking irresistibly hunky... hmmmmmmmmmm Beautiful! hmmmmmmmm SO DAMN SEXY!" "You think I'm hot this way?" "You still like to watch sci-fi marathons?" "What? ... Yes..." "You still like to sleep nude?" "Uhm yeah...." "If you're still mentally the same Ricky I know, but in the body...I not only find you hot, I want to become a woman and have your child. I want to be yours, take you, pleasure you, be with you all my life...I've always loved you, now I find you irresistible." With that Dillon began to rub his hands through Ricky's chest hair, to play with his nipples, to alternately kiss his lips and suck on his nipples, while taking one foot and rubbing it up and down Ricky's shaft. "...and remember to listen to and be with your family. They say that is also a helpful benefit and that young men who are with a good and strong family, grow up to be taller and stronger than their classmates who aren't.... .... ....." "This is the end of sex education film one." The end of the film came out of the projector while the wheel kept turning, slapping it against the machine. Ricky let out a moan and a groan, while the floor began to creak and wine under increased new weight as Ricky began to grow just a few more inches once again, his head pressing into and through the ceiling, raining small bits of plaster down upon his body, Dillon, and the floor. Dillon mean while moaned in ecstasy, clasped his arms around Ricky's expanding neck, after shucking his pants and underwear down, and began thrusting his cock between Ricky's pecs. "OOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Dillon splattered a load just above Ricky's chest, who found it so incredible that Dillon was so small now. That Dillon's shot of spoo seemed like a small bit of spit. That he stood taller than the eight foot tall room, and probably about half as wide as it. That Dillon was able to help keep himself up and balanced standing upon his own cock that was now as long, longer than Dillon's arm and as thick as his waist line. And Dillon was rubbing it with his socked feet.... "OH! OH! DIL!! DILL! dill-ON! DILLON! DIIIIIIIIIIIIILLON! AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!"

Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part VIII Part One: https://muscle-growt...-one-by-freaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growt...r-eaky-part-ii/ Part Three: https://muscle-growt...-eaky-part-iii/ Part Four: https://muscle-growt...r-eaky-part-iv/ Part Five: https://muscle-growt...-r-eaky-part-v/ Part Six: https://muscle-growt...freaky-part-vi/ Part Seven: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6652-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-vii/ "I don't like to be kept waiting, gentlemen!" bellowed Henri Marasme in the inky blackness of the night. He was standing out in front of the little cabin of Callum Addams, while his new found friend and super hulk, Brandon Brockman, stood near the back door of the cabin. "I will give you until the count of three to come out, or then Brandon and myself will come in, whether you want us to or not!" Henri and Brandon both stood in the cool night air of very early, o-dark thirty morning hours, their massive fifteen foot tall bodies, covered in mammoth mounds of muscle that popped and flexed, bulged and bounced with every twitch of their nerves. Their clothes were completely shredded from all the growth in height, muscle weight & size, and their testicle and penis development. Nothing actually remained of their clothing saved parts of their underwear which truthfully speaking were only being held in place by the rugged stitching and metallic zipper of what was their denim jeans, and that, on both of them, was pretty much just a few threads away from snapping off and fluttering to the ground. It hung around a thigh, Henri's left and Brandon's right, went over the crotch as best it could, and then back up around still attempting to try and cling to one ass cheek but pretty much sliding under it. Their cocks hung obscenely forward and out from their groins, the head caught in the remnants of the underwear, the shaft oozing out down and then doubling back up, riding on itself until it reached it origin point at the base of the abdomin region. Their balls hung out on either side of the fabric and yet were pushed forward by the size of their own thighs, which in turn pushed forward and rose their cocks. Standing there, their nearly fifteen foot tall silhouettes rising with their breath, heavily, powerfully, they were about to begin the count down when a chant began to be heard. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Softly at first, and the two mega men outside of the cabin mistook it for whispered prayers. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Then it was a little louder and the pair thought the men inside were perhaps moaning. Were they attempting to get one good jerk off session before the monstrous mass monsters stole more of their size? "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" But the sound grew londer and louder, and Henri knew they were chanting but he wasn't sure what. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Suddenly there was the sound of massive splintering. It wasn't the usual sound like small twigs being broken, or even the sound of a two by four being forced to bend. This...this sound was becoming a great din to the ears, completely filling the entire night air, and the sound was more akin to the sound of a sequoia somehow being ripped apart. Within minutes, just as the dawn broke over the horizon, the roof and parts of the walls of the cabin began to break and the six men Henri Marasme was looking for suddenly rose up and out of the cabin in staggering height, muscle definition and size, and cock and ball measurements. Up and up and up the six men grew, their heads rising higher and higher than the roof point was. Their feet, backed by massively long legs that were swelling and plumping with greater and greater muscles, were bursting through great log walls and knocking over foundation stones. Henri stood staring further and further up and higher, breathlessly whispering the word, "no." Brandon meanwhile backed up from the cabin as he was staring at the rising heads of the enemies he came to steal from and shrink. Not looking behind him, he stumbled several times as he watched the men grow and grow until their crotches rose well above where the roof top had been. He scurried as fast as he could so as not to be over taken by the massive dogs that were these giants' feet, as those spread out longer and wider, across the whole yard. The six men were bucking and humping, thrusting and slamming into each others ass, moaning and chanting the whole time. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Bigger and broader, higher and taller, thicker and denser, fuller and more bloated they grew with muscle size and strength, giant sized height and feet, with pronounced prongs of tube steak pushed up and out by the globulous set of balls ever seen on a human being. Their hair cascaded down their heads, over their shoulders and continued half way down their back. Their body hair grew in thick, yet feathery, covering their chest, abs, partial upper arms, forearms, crotches, thighs, and feet. It came in a spread out, making them colossal size colt men, yet it didn't hide their muscles, it somehow managed to accent and highlight the curves, the rises, the peaks and valleys of their sickeningly full yet defined muscle heads and bellies. Finally one or two more thrusts did it and each man moaned loud, long, and hard, as their body shook and quivered, their feet and toes bend and curled, their arms flung back slack and useless. They bucked and spasmed as their cocks each swelled just that much larger, enough to actually be seen by their front partner's ass cheeks spreading open just a touch wider. They pumped volley after extremely long volley into their front partner while receiving the same from their rear partner. They began to moan and shout in ecstasy with each volley for it was both a release and then moment of tension with each blast. On one hand they were releasing built and pent up sexual energy, on the other hand each volley caused them to have another massive growth spurt, expanding their bodies even further and harder. Finally when all the spasm and ejaculations stopped, the men stood frighteningly impressive. The point where the nearly two story tall cabin roof would be now only came up to the six men's calves....just beneath them! Groggily the six men pulled out from one another and stumbled round the ruins of the cabin, cursing loudly as every once in a while the mighty logs used to make the walls now proved to be matchstick size splinters poking the giant men's feet. Shaking off the euphoria, Sebastian looked down and round, finally resting upon Brandon and said, "I think we need to divide and conquer." Brandon stood motionless, not sure what to do, run or attempt and attack. Suddenly he was smacked, lifted, and tossed a good forty, fifty, hundred or more feet from the cabin sight as one of the men had pulled buck on his still fairly erect cock and let it smack Brandon like giant billy club. The sextet then turned their attention upon Henri, but he slowly, carefully had backed away a bit and went to chanting on his own. "sump.... Sump.....SUMP!" One by one each of the six giants felt his touch and had to stagger to regain footing having suddenly lost some height, muscle size, foot size, cock and ball size, or a little bit from all. They tried to advance on Henri, but being the much smaller man at first, he could dodge in between the trees of the surrounding forest. After a moment of slight skirmishes, Sebastian began to moan and shrink, but only in muscular size, and it quickly went. His muscles went down from freakish hulk to beyond Olympian bodybuilder down to new pro contender to amateur bodybuilder to football player to gymnast to soccer player to swimmer to slim twink. The loss was so quick and draining, Sebastian nearly fell and passed out on the spot. "Auuuuh.....guys we've got to take him down." There was the sound of splintering wood again, but from their vantage point so high up due to their height, the six men couldn't see where it was coming from, not until suddenly one of the trees began to move on its own. It was Henri in complete and utter uber swollen beast mode. He had taken on all of Sebastian new giant muscular size on his much shorter frame. His muscles were so full, so swole, so pumped that his veins bulged extremely full and thick. His muscles mounded and bunched almost like great massive pillows nearly swallowing up his head, hands, and feet. He looked like a cross between the Hulk and the Michellen Man save he had a very tight and defined waist. Yet somehow he had managed to grab a fairly large tree and rip it from the ground with his new found strength. With that tree, Henri turned it and struck Brook right in the solar plexus and then up in Brook's face has he came down from the stomach blow. This sent Brook staggering backwards and landing on his ass, dazed for a few minutes. While everyone was looking at Brook, Henri called out to Brandon telling him to follow his voice and get over where he was. Connor turned attempting to find Henri by voice, but suddenly fell to the ground and smashing his face into the dirt, but hard. The impact of course would send warning signals to geological survey sites in the North America. "My feet! I have like no friggin feet!" "What?" Called out Zachary and Callum, but as they moved to get near Connor, Zachary went down with loud surprised gasp and cry. There was also heard a slight scream from Henri. While everyone had been distracted with Brook's fall, he took Connor's feet size away and was now using his extremely large dawgs to trip Zachary. As everyone turned to look at where Zachary landed, Henri came out enough to set his focus and gaze on Mason. "SUMP SUMP SUMP SUMP!" Suddenly Mason started shrinking in height rapidly. "Auugh AHH UUUGH AAAAH WUAAAAH!" Mason fell to his knees mid stride of attempting to walk and soon stood about a third shorter than the other five men of his group. Meanwhile Henri was now much taller and stronger and he turned and gave a hell of a punch to Callum's right ankle, causing that man to wince in pain as though he just had a rock tossed at his ankle by lawn mower. Floundering around a bit with his extremely over-sized feet he called out to Brandon, screaming at him to get over to him. Brandon did indeed eventually find his way over to Henri and they positioned themselves for the siphoning of energy but to be transferred to Brandon: Henri's cock stuffed right up Brandon's firm bubble ass. However in the time it took to get situated, the Strangwick Strangers had slightly regrouped and not sure what do they followed Callum's suggestion of "let's fuck!" to perhaps be the best option. There was some adjusting here and there as Henri via Brandon had managed to get a few chants in before the giant mega men got their act together, but once they did it turned out to be Henri's doom. "Sump!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Brandon received the new dose under the combined power of all six words, but he didn't how he thought he would: a combination of all the enhancements. No instead he just got one, height. Suddenly blowing up about eight feet taller, this upset the balance of the position Brandon and Henri were in. Henry's overly muscular legs could have supported the weight, even the size, but he didn't have those legs positioned correctly to manage the balance. He fell backwards and Brandon simply sat on him. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Within the time it took for Henry to get Brandon up and off of himself so he could see what was going on, the six Strangers were all aroused, screwing their previous partners like before, and had grown back all being the same height, shape, strength, feet, cock & ball size. With that, Sebastian turn slightly and announced they would take care of one threat now. The back of his hand sliced through the air with speed and struck the body of Brandon, who went up and sailing much further this time that when he had been struck by the spring platform like motion of a giant cock earlier. Henri, now with the weight of his controlled partner off of him, began to concentrate on the six men again to siphon off their gifts. "SUMP!" But the young giants continued their sex and their chants. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" The affects were either quite comical or grotesque depending upon how one looked at it. The power surge being siphoned off from the six fucking giants was so powerful, Henri couldn't control how or what he was getting, nor how he placed it into or upon his body. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Suddenly Henri's cock just sprang to life and grew and grew and grew, snaking along the ground to an incredible nine or ten feet, almost half to two-thirds the length of his body. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Whap! His right bicep just suddenly inflated looking like a bit of mountain top resting on top of a small man's arm. The peak actually smacking him in the head. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" PHHHHHHHHHHOMP! "AUUGH!" One, just one, of Henri's testicles blew up like it was attached to a highly powerful air hose. His legs spread out wider and wider as though doing the splits. Almost both of his feet left the ground the titanic testicle grew so large and round. It was the left that just barely stood tippy toe to give him some stability. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Buh-BOUCE! Buh-BOUCE! "Waaaaaah...." Henri's chest, both pectorals, filled and grew like gigantic punching balloons being filled with water. So full and round they looked almost more like tits, and his nipples were forced so far down, they nearly doubled back under the pecs to point inward. But Henri was groaning now for the added weight made it one, hard to breathe, and two, added more weight that rested on his one giant swollen testicle. This in turn produced a prolonged feeling of being kicked there. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Huh-WAAAAAAAAH!" Henri's cock received another massive dose and oozed out longer and thicker like some snake of play-dough being squeezed out of press. His cock had now grown to be as long as he was tall...flaccid! But the feeling of his cock growing, sliding along the ground, much of it grassy and slick with dew, made Henri aroused and suddenly his cock began to grow and swell longer and thicker become erect as much blood, perhaps too much blood, was being shifted into his engorging schlong. And that increased size also meant more weight pressing down on his gigantic testicle. Trying to focus, but now slightly dilerious, Henri tried to keep going. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! RRRRRRRRRICK! "uh-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" This time Henri's thighs got it and got it but good, receiving the muscular size from each and every single one of the six colossi. Each tear drop in the front swelled and ballooned until it became a grotesque shape, looking nothing at all like the tear drops one is used to seeing even on the biggest of bodybuilders. One...two....three.... four....five....six...... and then the hamstrings tightened so fast and hard it pulled his shins and feet up against the thighs as the thighs' biceps portion grew out to overly puffed proportions. This of course meant there was more weight being placed upon the one mega-testicle of Henri Marasme, and on top of that it mean that the super thighs were so titanic in proportions, thickness, and strength, that they were also closing in on that one testicle and squeezing it firmly and constantly. Henri now lost in confusion and pain tried to focus, clear his head, and think of what he needed to do, but all he could think of was what he had been doing and that that must be the correct action to take. "SUMP!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Henri now experienced a large heady feeling, for that is where the growth was taking place, all in his top head. Henri suddenly looked as though he was become a rather funky looking bobble -head. His head kept gaining in size, teetering upon his much smaller neck. It eventually became to heavy for his neck and body to keep up and so it titled backwards, taking Henri's torso down with it. The motioned ended with Henri's eyes going cross-eyed for his head his a decent sized rock, as well as the fact that his head added more weight on top which assisted in further racking his gi-normous sperm-sphere. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" The six men now lost in pleasure and ecstasy once again, kept on chanting and chanting. Henri's body kept absorbing random amounts of growth a couple to three times after he had passed out and looked a horrific gross mash up of hyper-masculine parts looking now like a cross between the Hulk and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The young men however continue to grow up and out, up and out as they fucked and chanted, reaching a somewhere around one-hundred fifty to two-hundred feet tall. But despite the feelings of pleasure and power, Sebastian managed to break free of his hypnotic euphoria and gasp out that they needed to finish the job by hand. They couldn't make themselves even bigger as they were already way too big. They had to give their loads up to the air, the universe, whatever. And so one by one they each pulled out of one another and faced each other in a circle, becoming the site to behold - the world's largest circle jerk! Slowly but surely, they all succumb to the vigorous rubbing of their shafts. They all began the dance of the one-working-leg-man as that feeling zipped down their cock head, through the shaft, over the abs, across the chest, up the neck, around the chin, and right into the lower lip. "AAAAUUUUUUGH!" "FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYUMN!" "SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" "MOTHER!" "SNFABIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!" And with an almost choreographed like thrust of the pelvis, each titan of power blew his load which rose up and out of their cocks and shot well above their heads in such thick ropes of cum, it looked almost as if their cocks were shooting out strands of silly string. With their moaning and release, the young men began to shrink. "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGH!" They shank some more and so did Henri and Brandon. "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGH!" Shrinking more, along with Henri and Brandon, but suddenly on the other side of campus in a doctor's office, Santiago de Silva began to grow, as well as his sick bed mate, Blake Smythe. "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGH!" More shrinkage from the eight men, but others who had experienced sudden bone and musculature loss, penis or ball size, virility problems, height shrinkage, were growing and filling out more and more. "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGH!" It seemed as though the spurts of cum were meeting up high in the air and almost exploding like fireworks, but then vaporizing and misting back down upon those who were once blessed with the gifts of the Strangwich Strangers. Brandon Brockman returned to his regular size, but once he awoke, ran for his dorm room, packed his belongings and transferred that day; he was never exactly the same. Santiago de Silva and Blake Smythe became two of the biggest men on campus, returning to the blessed height and size the Strangers had given them, but then growing and swelling just a bit larger to 7' 6" tall with bodies like pro-bodybuilders and equipment like the biggest of porn stars. Henri Marasme continued to shrink even beyond his regular height. In fact it's rumored it's some kind of punishment from the universe. It's said that any time he gets his dander up and proclaims he will be a huge, massive man, once again, he looses another two inches of height, becomes that much thinner and frailer, and his cock is damn near threatening to invert and become a vagina. As for the Strangwich Strangers, the five, now six men.... well they still live in the area and one can't help but see them. They continued to shrink down quite a bit, but their height seemed to reshape itself into more muscle mass, or more cock extension & testicle inflation. When the young men awoke after their supreme jack off session, and the authorities were arriving, they stood up to see that they had indeed kept quite a bit of the growth that had occured. Their muscles were so full and pumped it was hard to bend their arms and legs, to reach for anything in front of their chests - the massive pec shelves they are. They waddled instead of walking regularly. Speaking of walking, you hear them coming a good distance away. That's because those uber built bodies are on such tall frames. When the police arrived and the six men stood up....and up.....and up....... The tallest officer at six foot six inches tall still only came up to about the knee cap or so of the six giant men. They were sixteen feet tall. In order to tell their story, they had to sit down and lean forward a little bit so they could see the police over their protruding pecs. Course the police had a hard time trying to focus on their jobs. Not only were they speaking to six young men built bigger than any Mr. Olympia ever, if not bigger than all of them together, that stood sixteen feet tall, but also, also... had flaccid cocks that hung down to their knees and had enough ridges in them they looked like they could grown almost a foot longer when erect. The Strangwich Strangers have a blog and cam site now where one can see them perform daily tasks of picking up their property, setting new foundations, lifting into place walls of their old family houses as they improve them and equip them for men of their size. Usually you can see them perform in the nude, and paid members can see them get it on with each other. They each combined their properties as the couples they came to be: Knight-Fletcher, Wells- Woode, & Addams-Rabbits. Callum sold the property the demolished cabin sat on, and claimed the old family homestead and dug up and moved his ancient ancestor to the local grave yard, along with his memorial marker. Since then, things seem to have settled down and become very prosperous in the region. Although there are still some tales of giants...men far bigger...two...three....four ti....five times the height of the Strangwich Strangers. Men who can rip trees out of the ground and snap them in two like match sticks. Who can crush granite boulders with their bare hands and leave giant crater like footprints in the earth. Surprisingly the stories always seem to escalate right after one of the parties on the Strangers property where one can hear it echo through the hollow... ... ... ... .... "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "AAAAAUUGH!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "FUUUUUUUCK!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "DAAAAAAAAYUMN!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "MOTHEEEEEER!" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "SNFABIIIIIIIIIIITCH!"

Twenty Something Inches (the Remix) Forum Note: I've always loved this story, and ploder4 on our site mentioned wanting to continue it (his continuation here: Twenty Something Inches - continued). I decided to start posting my remix of the original. Please keep in mind that this version, my version, is also relatively unedited, but I wanted to start posting what I have to get some feedback and buzz going. So, its A Work in Progress! I'll be posting updates as the creative juices flow. ** A heavily edited and modified redo of the original "Twenty Something Inches" - credit for the story concept and original content goes to the original author, theEd. ** Where should i start? boys? men? muscle gods? well, in order to talk about these gods-among-men, I guess I need to start with the .. uh ... well, with the blast of gamma radiation ... yeah. its gonna be one of those kinda stories... cept this is real. Let me talk about my life first. Male. 20 years old. I recently moved out of my parents house. No big deal, it was way overdue and I loved the freedom. It was a whole new adventure for me, out on my own, even if it meant living with roommates that were nothing like me. There was Bill, the guy who decided it was safer to park his motorcycle in our living room. There was Chris, a quiet emo kid who raised tarantulas and snakes in his bedroom. And, there was Nick, a very bad guitar player who had a grower connection and sold dope on campus. We were all about the same age, the youngest being Chris, at seventeen. It was a shitty living environment by any standards: bugs everywhere, the shower muddy and barely a trickle, food, clothes, papers everywhere. The roommates had these unexpected parties which only further trashed the house and made the whole place reek of pot smoke. I never partook and really didn't like the smell, so, of course, the thick haze somehow, without fail, would always manage to settle right in my bedroom every time. We were lucky that this house was buried in the woods, or we would've gotten to know our local cops quite well. Another good part was that no one ever knew who the true owner of the house was. We never met, or even had a phone conversation with, anyone who claimed ownership. We all found the house on craigslist and sent our rent checks to some corporate management firm. No one ever bothered us, even if one or more of us had missed payment last month. We enjoyed our freedom in this arrangement, so we tried to pay rent as often as possible. I was the one who almost regularly missed rent payments. I was there because I had no money and the rent was super cheap. Even then, it was rough for me. But, I still had my notebook, so I could write; I was going to be a famous writer someday, and repay all these debts. Writing was my gift, my passion. I approached the world with an open mind and an open heart, pen and paper at the ready, but I never quite expected that I would write about Bill, Chris and Nick. That's all the background you need about them: Bill was always an okay kind of guy, Chris was kind of creepy, really, and Nick… well, we never got along very well. Nick’s all-night-long parties got popular mainly because of the non-stop supply of beer and weed, but he also had live, local bands blasting throughout the night and eventually, the parties became known for the overall "higher" quality of guys and girls that would fill the house. Popular kids from the schools, jocks, athletes, dealers, actresses, up-and-comers, all started flocking to Nick's parties. The house always seemed near collapse, though somehow it would hold together til the next day. In the beginning it was fun; I even scored with some girls and guys. (I’m bi, by the way.) But, then it started to get on my nerves. I couldn’t sleep normal hours anymore, the kitchen was always a total mess, and the bathrooms were beyond disgusting. We had to start pooling money to pay a clean lady to come in two times a week, but after four or five months, even she gave up on our mess. One random Tuesday night, Bill and Nick decided to barbecue at 3am. They fired up the grill on our outdoor roof/deck/rickety-death-trap/patio area and proceeded to laugh and yell and stomp around until the whole house was awake. Drunk and stoned outta their minds, even more than usual, the guys were interrupted by a bright falling star streaking across the clear night sky. Bill laughed, pointing, “Hey man, look at that! Make a wish!" The star suddenly froze in place and started to swell with a white so bright the boys had look away. “Wow, dude, what the fuck is that? It's so fucking bright!" Nick said after a few moments of awed silence. "Where's our wannabe astronomer? Hey Einstein, get out here! You're missing the most awesome thing!” Nick yelled down in my general direction. They called me Einstein, very original, aren’t they? I looked out a nearby window and saw the blinding ball of light, now the size of the moon. “Shit, what the hell," I muttered to myself before reason kicked in. "Guys! Come inside, quick!” I yelled. “Fuck! Who we should call? NASA?” Bill asked, completely ignoring my warning. "Someone get a camera! Grab my phone!" Nick yelled into the house, never taking his eyes off the light. "Come inside! Quick! That thing could be dangerous!" I repeated from inside the safety of our house. Chris rushed passed my open bedroom door with his phone in hand. I followed after him, hoping to at least get him to stay inside. No dice. He quickly tucked his thin frame through the open window and climbed out onto the roof. “Look at that,” he said, watching the light show through the screen of his phone's video app. I peeked out at the scene from the edge of the window frame. The star exploded with a blinding light that turned the entire sky white. I stepped back as the guys outside covered their eyes. Whatever it was, I had to protect myself. Those guys were crazy to stay out there! I slammed the old, leaded window closed just as a burst of purple and green flashes filled the horizon. I crouched down into a ball as I felt the whole house start to shake. I was scared shitless! The rumbling got louder and louder, making everything rattle and vibrate with a deadly intensity. "We're all gonna die!" I cried in a meek whisper, mentally complimenting myself on a wonderful choice of last words. At the peak of noise and shaking, there was a huge BANG! and then it all just... stopped. I was trembling; too afraid to open the window to see if they got toasted by whatever THAT was. I made myself stand and was about to peek through the window when I suddenly heard Nick and Bill yelling "oooh"s and "aaaah"s, like they were watching a 4th of July firework show. Seconds later, they calmed down and that was it. That was the moment that changed our lives. That brief moment... and no one had a single clue. **** Two months later, I started to notice odd things happening to my roommates. Specifically, to their bodies-- They began to ... "swell," i guess is the word ... with muscle. That Bill would grow muscles easily, was expected. But Chris and Nick? Both were sticks. Two totally flat, tall guys. I had always been attracted to athletic bodies, male and female, and Chris and Nick flew under my radar. Nick always dressed tight, emo/punk shirts. I started noticing those old shirts were straining against his now-curvy body. His arms had visible muscles swelling now, and when he played his guitar, veins would start to web across them. I also started to notice, to my quiet anger and jealousy, that he was scoring a lot more often, and off a wider variety of girls. Chris would never leave his room and he when he did, he would always wear baggy clothes, so I had quite a shock when he finally started coming out of his cave. The first time he came up to "chill" nearly killed me! My initial surprise was that he was being overly social all of a sudden, but what really dropped my jaw was that he wearing very little, allowing me my first real glimpse of him shirtless. He had pecs, big pecs, and abs, and biceps-- the whole package! He was still border-line "slim," but he was already becoming muscular, showing off more size and thickness than I could claim on my own twinky body. I knew that this guy had never set foot in a gym, and the last, and only, time I saw his chest, there was not a single, pale muscle to speak of. My brow furrowed in confusion, asking myself, “What the hell is going on…?" I tried to ignore all three of them, chalking up their changes in normal male growth spurts, but each week it became more and more difficult to ignore. I had some abstract suspicions by the forth week, and by the fifth and sixth, my otherwise wacky suspicions were becoming fact. On afternoon, I realized I was now about an inch shorter than everyone. Bill, already tall, became much taller. So did Chris and Nick. I began to wonder how much longer they were going to pretend nothing was going on. How could they continue to pretend not to notice when they were obviously starting to tower over me? My main theory was, of course, something related to that night. I began my quest for answers and searched everywhere i could imagine. I Googled, Binged, Yahoo!'d, and newsgroup'd long into the night, digging deep for a single, tiny shred of information that could connect an odd, unexplainable celestial event to multiple counts of spontaneous, unnatural muscle growth. I found some great muscle growth-related sites, but I found nothing of scientific merit. (I bookmarked the fiction and morph sites) **** One night, Bill knocked on my bedroom door and started shouting through the wood about needing more condoms. Of course, I had plenty. I grabbed a couple from my sad, unused stash and opened my door. My jaw dropped. There was Bill, one hand holding onto a loosely tied towel, stretched taut across the bulging muscle of his thighs. His pecs were huge and thick, his abs deep and defined, his bis swollen and round-- My eyes didn't know where to start! I was drawn back down to his waist, where my eyes froze in place, locked onto his crotch. Pushing against the towel, and outlined in glorious detail, was a full, huge, hard dick. It was big-- abnormally big-- mouthwateringly big. I was speechless. For way too long. Who was this muscle beast?! I already knew (from his loud bragging) that he had 18’ 1/2 biceps, but that stat was from a while ago, and now... now, the rest of his body seemed unreal. “Hey man? Something wrong?” his pecs bounced as he adjusted the towel. “It’s… I... uh... here. I… hope they fit...” “Me too, I already blew three of these fuckin things tonight. They just don’t make rubbers like they used to!" he laughed to himself. "I mean, man, it sucks, you know," he said, leaning in, lowering his masculine baritone a bit, "I have two babes worshiping me down there and these fucking rubbers don’t last a fucking second. Fuck! Can I take more?” I started at his enormous body... Too long, apparently. He raised his eyebrows and loudly cleared his throat. "Sure," I stammered out. “Thanks pal, you’re the best,” he said, bouncing his pecs again as he took the second handful of condoms. I couldn't help but watch him saunter away. For the next hour, I heard Bill absolutely trashing his dates. I decided those girls had to be waaaaaaay too drunk to scream like that. I soon found out, though, they weren't drunk at all. All the screaming and begging for more and "Oh God"'ing was because of, what I would later call, Bill's "Factor." I wouldn't understand any of it until much later. **** One day later that month, I was coming back to the house from school and was surprised to find Nick, tanning on the death-trap-patio above the main entrance. He was completely nude except for a tiny, little pair of white bikini underwear. Now, normally, he was that kind of guy that avoided sun at all costs, but apparently, "New Nick" had other ideas. I was dumbfounded and had to make a snarky comment, “Hey Nick, sunbathing?? You?” This got his attention and he stood up, moving dangerously close to the edge of the roof. The sun was glaringly bright, but I could still see he wasn't big as Bill, but was certainly getting close! I made special note of big swell his legs were showing. "You got a problem with that, Einstein?” he said, looking down on me, like a god surveying his property. “Hey, woah. No problem, man!” I shot back, trying to recall the last time Nick had been a dick to me. I couldn't remember a time, but then again, we never really interacted much. Maybe it was a bad day? I continued on into the house and managed to overhear him taking a phone call. He certainly wasn’t a dick to the person on the other end of the call! I began to wonder, "did I do something to him?" I found Chris fixing himself something to eat in our huge, common kitchen. He never cooked! I quickly took in his impressive new body. His enhanced curves and swells pulled his otherwise shiny, black UnderArmor outfit to the point of being translucent in places. “Hey, Chris, hungry enough to finally cook?” I managed to get out, fighting my suddenly dry mouth. “Yeah. I get hungry a lot, lately.” “Oh. I see… do you…” he turned to me, and my God, his pecs were the size of Bills! Maybe bigger! “…are…” His body stopped my brain, dead. “Are... what?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. His biceps exploded as he lifted a huge jar of water to his lips. He gulped and gulped, but some water spilled from his mouth and soaked his shirt. “err… uh... nothing...” I was sweating. When I first met Chris, we were about the same height and build. Not anymore. He was now quite a bit taller than me. I actually had to look up at his eyes. What. the. fuck!? What is going on?! Is it just me? Am I the only one noticing these sudden changes to my roommates? Am I going insane?! **** I gulped, “Well…uh... I guess you are on the right track…" My eyes followed his hands as they moved around his body, feeling and testing his mass. He paused and I looked back up into his eyes. He caught me staring, again! I had to distract, "but aren’t you concerned about how or why this insane muscle growth is happening? I mean, this sudden gain in size isn't norm--" “Yes… a little…" he interrupted. "But, I have a feeling that whatever this is, it's good for me... and it'sh beyond any of our control… you undershtan, Matthew?” I suddenly realized that he was drunk. “I… guess…” “I shaw that you started lookin at me in a different way, too…” he smiled at me with this cocky grin, totally out of character. “I…. What you mean?” My eyes jumped down to his hands as they cupped at his delicious-looking pecs. “Everyone should look at me the way you do…” Chris let his hands fall to his sides and balanced his weight on one hip. He looked at me through tipsy, yet expectant eyes. “Ok... Chris, lemme put it this way… you… are not exactly my type. You know? Just not a match." He actually looked disappointed! Then, a bit angry. Then, defiant. "I saw you checking me out." “Waaait a minute… you are like… growing bigger, right in front of me! What do you expect?” “And, it doesn’t turn you on?” He flexed his arm under my nose. Whatever gorgeous visage was standing before me and making me drool, I had to remember the person that lie beneath. “Look Chris, sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but…” I could see he was not happy. He had opened up to me and I was treating him like he's crazy for thinking anyone would be into him. I mean, he was a kid! More than three years younger than me and, besides, he had pet snakes and spiders. He was kinda creepy like that... He loved watching his pet predators killing their prey, up close. Growing muscles aside, that kid had problems that I didn’t want anything to do with. “Let’s be friends, okay?” “I understand...” he said coldly and turned his wide back to me. He didn’t talk to me for weeks after that night. I think he always thought of himself as a freak and I just validated those core fears-- I might have even made him feel worse! **** During those following weeks, the musclehead trio bought some free-weights to use in the house. They started to spot one another, spend all their time together, eat tons and tons of food together, and even go to clubs together. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. I'd even listen for their heavy footsteps around the old house so I could move around without incident. It wasn't a precise science, but with Bill's extra muscly pounds, I could at least hear where he was; from there I could kinda guess where the other two were. And, throughout every single day, dawn to dusk, I could hear at least one of them lifting weights in the garage. With their all-over size gains, it was hard to guess who was spending more time in there. Then, by early evening, they'd be pounding away at some new herd of slutty "friends." All three of them were fucking as many holes as they could. They didn’t even need to throw parties anymore-- the parties came to them. To the party clique, I was totally invisible. My witty banter couldn't compete with the guys flexing an arm. People just wanted to be near them. Chris was still struggling, though. He was an oddball at heart, and didn't always fit in-- Well, that wasn’t my problem! But, most of the time, I could walk around the party-packed house without any rude encounter. I'd just throw out the obligatory ‘hi’ now and then to the random faces I saw, and scoot along my merry way. But, when I'd actually see one of my roommates, in the center of the throng, I had to fight so hard not to stop and stare at their increasing muscular size. But what would stop me in my tracks, without fail, was the fact that their dicks were getting bigger, too. I think. Each of the guys, with their own clothing styles, managed to wear pants that clearly outlined every lump, flare, and vein of their increasingly huge alpha cocks. The boys now looked porn-star hung and didn't care who saw. It was getting more and more difficult the bigger and bigger they got. For the first month, it was relatively easy for me, but with their bodies lookin the way they do now... **** One day I got really hungry and was too tired to go out and grab food myself. So, I went to the fridge and grabbed some meat to cook-- our fridge overflowed with labeled chunks of various beasts, wrapped in plastic or covered on plates. I was really hungry and ate a whole portion of honey-roasted chicken breast. I didn’t realize the danger I'd put myself in. I turned around to see Nick standing in the doorway, and, man, did he explode at me: “What the FUCK are you DOING?” He was shirtless and huge, and had two of his "groupies" behind him. Nick was bigger than I ever seen him before. And, the last time I had seen him shirtless, he had 19’ arms. He was starting to look like a competitive bodybuilder! I jumped at his sudden appearance and the pure anger in his booming voice. “Man, I was hungry. I'm gonna replace it later when I go to the store! I'm--” his speed surprised me even more, given his new size. He was right up against me and, grabbing my neck, he lifted me in the air, choking the air from me. “You fucking PRICK! Who gave you permission to take MY food?” “I’m… sorry…” my feet were dancing in the air, scrabbling for something to alleviate the pressure on my neck. My face felt like It was gonna burst. “…I--" “Answer me!” “I… am…(gasp) answering… you(gasp)” The two swooning groupies, a blond and a ginger, begged Nick to he put me down after a minute or two. I crashed to the floor, gasping to breath. I coughed and looked up at him to see, much to my relief, that the girls had managed to soothe the beast. As the girls continued to rub themselves against his solid form, I saw his cock starting to swell and push out hard against he jeans. He groaned as the girls rubbed their tits on his arms and back, whispering in his ears about how strong and huge he was. His torn jeans barely held his legs muscles-- every lump and mound clearly visible, with the tough fabric stretched to near-transparency over his waist-thick quads. I found myself staring again. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot. Get my food now, or I’ll fucking rip your fucking arms off!" “Ok," was all I could manage as I scrambled to my feet, stunned. What the fuck was that?!! Roid rage?!! Jesus! He turned and strolled out of the room, leaning in to kiss each of the girls as they grabbed at his hunky muscles. Fuckin steroids! I rubbed my throat, thinking, and it dawned on me. Now I get why he named his band "Roid Rage!" He's fuckin' explosive! And fuckin psycho! About as psycho as the dumbass producer that actually seems interested in signing him. Maybe Nick attacked him like he did me just now, and the dudes too scared to say 'no.' My brain worked to quickly block out what had just happened and I started to ponder Nick's career. He's gonna get signed?? No way! He’s not that good! Not at all... He’s a prick. An immense prick. And dangerous, apparently! But, then there's that body... I followed his movement out of the kitchen and into the chill zone, where two more girls joined the threesome. They all fell onto a couch and basically started a little orgy right there in front of me. Nick was getting too dangerous to be this close to. He could have killed me, the fuck! What the hell could I do, though? Call the cops? Leave? In the end, I went out and bought two big packages of fresh meat which more than replaced what I'd eaten. **** I realized I was feeling fucking submissive. Hearing Nick call my name, or any mocking variation thereof, would knock the wind outta my sails, and he knew it-- Fucking bastard. He never exactly "bullied" me, but there was psychological torture that he definitely enjoyed putting me through. And, his new favourite torture was to tease me with his big muscles. He totally got off on how I got mesmerized by his size. He would even go as far as to taunt me by jumping on my lap, grinning that cocky, hot, alpha grin, and trace his finger along each muscle, going from group to muscle group, pointing out just how much bigger he was than me. I was just an average guy, with an average life and a slim, albeit defined, average body, but Nick... Nick was becoming this arrogant, swole, bulky muscle god-- and I hated that I loved watching it happen. It was quickly becoming hell to deal with Nick. ***** Bill seemed easier to deal with, at first. Even bigger than Nick, he at least started off with a bit of respect for me. But, I saw their growth was starting to do funny things on their heads. Some weeks ago, Bill asked me to take down any random messages that came in for him on the landline. (We all used that number as a dumping ground for spam calls, but I guess he was giving it out more frequently now.) What started as a favor turned me into his personal fucking assistant. He hated electronic stuff, so every email, every call, I had to be there or Bill-- William, I had to call him, now, to sound more "professional"-- otherwise, William would get pissed. He probably be even more pissed if he knew i often called him "Billy" in my head. He opened up to me and finally started talking about how his newfound, massive muscle gains were absolutely changing his life. He proudly went on to tell me about his financial windfalls. He'd grown huge and now he was gettin paid! BANK! His body was generating some serious cash revenue... People all over were sending him money for various reasons. He got a new computer for cam chats, several new phones to help track his progress, brand new cutting edge gym equipment, clothes, shoes, supplements, giant new flatscreens-- even a fancy, 3D, curved behemoth for us to use in the chill room. He got money to buy a chopper and was even given a modded Subaru WRX-somethingerother. He was as surprised as I was! He had no idea that people would actually pay just to touch him. And, neither of us could've ever imagined exactly just how much his "fans" were actually willing to pay! Turned out, by doing absolutely nothing cept flexing on cam and maybe dancing a bit, he was making more per month than both my parents, combined!! I had to admit, tho, he'd gotten to the point where I could totally understand why. He was prime, huge, alpha stud. So Bill paid me to be his personal assistant, which barely put food on my table. I saw the money coming in and quickly decided I deserved a bigger cut. But, typical mousy me, I didn't have the balls to mention it. Granted, greed aside, he was being nice to me as it was... and I did really, really enjoy the primary perk of the job: getting up-close, VIP-level, nearly unlimited access, to behind-the-scenes views of that fuckin huge-ass body! Bill-- William-- was now proudly sporting guns that broke the twenty inch mark weeks ago. He had always been a jock, not necessarily intelligent, or "book smart," I guess you could call it, but he was certainly smart enough to manipulate the hell outta people. **** Once, in his newest gift, a badass truck, I was complaining about friggin Nick when Bill suddenly interrupted me. “Man, you remember that night you freaked out because we were growing…?” “Yeah...” I asked cautiously, quietly impressed that his muscular frame was taking up my entire view. I realized that even with our new working "relationship," we'd never actually discussed that night. “We were playing dumb… Of course we knew it was happening!" Finally! The validation made me smile, inwardly. "C’mon, do you really think that…” he flexed his monstrous bicep pretty much in my face “…that we wouldn't notice... this?” “oh, really...” I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue. “Those days, you couldn’t stop staring at us. It was so funny!" That snapped my mouth shut! I began to blush-- I wasn't expecting that hard truth! I wasn't ready to admit anything to anybody about my inner feelings; I certainly wasn't ready to openly discuss it with Bil-- William-- right here, right now! “What the hell you are talking about, William?” I tried to feign ignorance then anger. He stopped the car at a light and faced me, “Look at my body, bro. I know what you're thinking..." I gulped, my throat suddenly dry, “Oh? What am I thinking, William?” He grinned at me, that cocky alpha sneer, for an uncomfortably long time. He grabbed inside his collar with both hands and tore his shirt halfway down his torso, exposing his gorgeous chest to me. The ripping motion made his pecs bounce into view, swollen with an unnatural weight. I literally lost my breath. My jaw went slack. Bill was so huge that my brain couldn’t compute. I reacted like a girl seeing a penis for the first time. My eyes were everywhere, trying to take it all in. I actually felt an embarrassing rivulet of drool slide along my lower lip. The traffic light had long since turned green, but neither of us cared. He shifted in his seat and grabbed at his bulging crotch. My eyes couldn't help but follow. "Now, you're thinking about the size of my horse cock." He grinned after that matter-of-fact statement. I couldn’t even react because that was exactly what I was thinking. I could only make out lumps and curves, exaggerated by the glow of the truck's console. A car behind us beeped in annoyance and we started moving again, but William kept his hand pressed on his crotch. As we rolled along the street, the evenly-placed street lights began to animate a beautiful thickness, creeping down his thigh. The surreal flip-card show ended abruptly as we pulled into a parking lot and, Bam! There, in his tight pants, the fine details of this massive snake were illuminated-- the lump was just the base, and halfway down his huge thigh sat the most well-known shape in the history of modern man. The drool fell heavily off my lower lip. “It's over ten inches, dude." “…ten…” I dragged the back of my hand across my lips, absent-mindedly trying to wipe away any more tell-tale drool. The slurping sound was abnormally loud. “Each month, a new inch, Matt... Can you believe that?! Fuckin awesome!! An inch a month! Fuckin sex god, right here, bro!" My eyes followed his hand down to the plump cock head clearly outlined by, and straining against, the fabric of his shorts. I licked my lips. "What if we don’t stop growing, man? Can you imagine...?” He kinda trailed off, lost in his own fantasy. His cock flexed hard against his shorts, the mushroom tip starting to peek out from the stretched leg opening. “This is just the beginning, Mat... can you fuckin imagine?” I didn’t have to imagine! It was real. This tank's shoulders took up almost the entire width of the front seats. I was being pressed against my door just sitting next to him. His big-ass cock was now threatening to rip his pants if it grew any longer or harder. I forced my eyes shut and tried to imagine what it would be like to actually have sex with this guy. I would be squashed like those bugs on the windshield. I'd have to hold on to his massive frame for dear life, constantly pushing back against him just to get a breath! I could easily fit on his lap, my legs wrapped around his tiny waist, if I were lucky enough to be given the option to ride him. Then I could focus on surviving all 10+ inches pummeling my insides with animal abandon, it's arrow-straight thickness reinforced by the tree trunk enormity of his quads, flexed hard against the seat of the car. The painful hardness of my own cock suddenly ripped me from my fantasy. Shit!! OMG! I was ready to explode! My rod was clearly tenting out my shorts. I was oozing pre-cum. Dangerously close to "go time." I froze in fear, embarrassment, lust, everything... paralyzed. A sliver of clear liquid inched down my inner thigh. He could do whatever he wanted with me. We locked eyes. And, I would let him. Not that fighting against him would make any difference. And, I would love it. He kept looking over at me with that arrogant grin shining across his huge muscular frame. Bill knew I was trapped-- my senses, lust, fantasies, all locked me up, rendering me totally unable to think properly. I felt completely invaded by his gaze and control over me. “...are- are you going to rape me?” I've never been harder or more horny. I ached. My puppy-dog eyes belied my feigned surface fear, desperately pleading for him to take me. God, how I wanted him to push me down, hold me in place, and just destroy me-- to just fuck me hard. I heard myself whisper in the faintest of secret breaths, "Please--" I could feel the truck shaking. He was howling with laughter! "Hey, Mat, you are so fuckin funny!!" He patted me hard on the shoulder. "That’s exactly what every fuckin client of mine wants! But you might have actually had that pleasure!" Another rough pat on my shoulder shook me totally back to reality. "Fuckin crazy, man! People all around me, hoping I'd actually rape them. Isn’t that fucked up!?" I could only nod. "Grab me another shirt from those boxes in back.” I didn’t know what to think. Did he get his huge cock hard in front of me as some kinda joke? Was ripping his shirt off just a mind fuck? If so, these were games I would always lose. I recovered a bit more and asked, “Are you sure these people don't want normal sex, not… uh... to be raped…?" What a weird topic of conversation. And, damn, his cock was still as hard as before. I busied myself with finding a new matching shirt for him in the pile of boxed clothes, stuffed in the back of the truck's extended cab. “That’s the weird thing, before all this growth I had this girlfriend that I fucked on daily basis. Her mother fuckin hated me. It was worse with her dad. They totally despised me... But as soon as I realized every hot-ass chick in sight was startin to get all up on me, I dropped my girl faster than flaming shit." I pulled out a XXL polo and handed it to William. "So, last week she called me again. She said she missed me and all that bullshit. I went to her pad to bang her one more time; kinda a goodbye/sympathy fuck. But, when I walked into the living room and her hater family saw me, all brand new, with these swole-ass guns and big-ass pecs…” Bill pulled off the rest of his destroyed shirt. I could hardly pay attention to his story, every move was an explosion of huge tanned muscle. His old shirt was basically glued to his body and the new polo was no different. He pulled it down, covering his godly torso. It was like an angelic light had been suddenly shut off. I could think again! But, was immediately entranced by his cloth-covered, massive pecs, lit perfectly by the lot's security lights. And, his bis!! Good God! They were like footballs tucked under flesh! Everything pressed against his strained shirt, bouncing and bunching as he continued his story, talking loudly with his hands. “...and then, I had her fuckin mother, under the table, suckin on my cock while her fuckin daughter was taking a shower for our date! Unreal, bro!" My eyes fixated on his cock again. "I could fuck anyone in that family. Haha! I came on the old bitch’s face while her wimp-ass husband was sitting right in the other room! I made sure he knew what was goin on, but he kept pretending it wasn’t happening! Man, I totally dominated that fuckin family. Talk about change of respect.” Shit. God. When is William gonna do that to me? Bend me over, break me in, make me a slave to his every whim? Am I gonna have to act like a dog and beg? Get on the ground and look up at him, "Please fuck my face, sir?" What if he doesn't like it, tho? The possible punishments... Would he crush me? Never talk to me again? The truck's windows had completely fogged over and it was friggin sweltering inside. “So, uh, William, let’s go back home?” “Nah, let’s go inside." “Hooligan’s? Isn't this the place that Nick plays?” “Yah. Always a lotta chicks. Haha! Look at my fuckin cock! It's ready to go all night, bro! It ain't gonna rest til I sink it deep!” His arrogance shot right to my dick again. Hot. And, Hello? Billy! I'm right here, mouth open, totally fucking wanting to suck you dry! Right here, fucker! Don't even have to get outta the car. He swung his door open, “I’ll fuck the first set'a huge titties I see! Promise you!” He wasn't even really talking to me anymore, but I didn’t doubt it. Waking side by side towards the club, anyone could see who the real man was. Bill towered over me with his 6’6" or 6’7"-- I wasn’t sure anymore. There was a pretty long line to get in, but William pushed right through everyone, his 10 incher rock solid, bumping asses, and totally on display. The line of generic people hushed as he moved through them. Bill was hunting for a good-looking girl to fuck. Of the hundred or so people, he zoomed in on a decent-looking brunette. She knew she'd been chosen-- her pupils dilated and nipples got hard. She tried to look away as he approached, but went crazy with lust when she finally got a full view of him. He grabbed at his crotch while she feverishly groped his arms and pecs, then, without a word, they pushed out of the line, and tucked around a nearby corner. Bill started to fuck her, right there, in a nasty little alley, just three or four steps off the busy sidewalk where everyone was waiting. Flashes of flesh and clothing would briefly pop into view, writhing and whipping around, giving visual to the unmistakeable sounds of hungry sex audible just under the walla of the crowd. Watching the edge of the wall long enough it was easy to tell he was ramming her from behind, standing, pressing her up against the wall. To Billy, it was quite normal, I think. But to me and others keen to the show, it felt beyond surreal... A cheesy porno plot made real, right before a shocked audience's eyes. To the normal Joe, this would never even begin to take place, but with his model-boy, chiseled looks, his enormously pumped, muscular body, and his 10"-and-growing Magnum dick, all powered by his alpha cockiness and sex drive, this was an expected, regular event for Billy. A typical weeknight, really. After a solid 10 or so minutes, Billy was making his way back to the front door, still stuffing his deflating cock back in his pants. “Shit man, I fucking ruined her clothes.” I looked past Billy and saw her walking back to her friends, with her dress in rags, completely soaked with his cum and sweat. She could've been ashamed of herself, being so openly and quickly dominated and fucked, but instead, wore her fucked-up hair as a trophy. Her friends were asking all about it and him-- they envied her! Wow. What the fuck was going on? He was a total dick to this random bar chick and she still wanted more. Billy was ready to go inside and didn’t give a shit about the line. He pushed to the front and I noticed none of the doormen made moves to stop him. I was pulled inside right behind Bill, but I quickly moved off to the side for a second, so I could adjust to the loud, dark nightclub. My mind was still reeling from the previous 20 minutes, and I was still in shock over the stuff with Billy in the truck. Shake it off. **** While Bill was being showered with attention, I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Sipping at it and getting lost in thought, someone patted me on the shoulder. Turning around I saw Nick looking down at me, over and between his pecs; his wifebeater left nothing to the imagination, helping to show off their size and symmetry. He squinted his eyes at me before shouting over the noise, “Hey girls! The music critic is finally gracing us with his presence!" In an instant whirlwind, I was thrust into the center of Nick’s ‘friends'-- people whose lives were spent in his shadow, agreeing with any stupid bullshit thing that came out of his mouth. The "yes" crowd. But, man, he certainly did have a lot of these ‘friends.' “I come in peace, Nick,” I yelled over the music, trying to sound cool. “You have to, bro. Joe, tell him what happened to the last… critic." Joe was the original bandleader, the alpha, the number one, the rising star, before Nick’s unexplainable growth. Now, he was a zombie like the others. “Haha! All I remember was him having his mouth too full to talk any shit, right Nick?” The laughed. “Yeah, dude, his face was fuckin hilarious!! But, he -was- begging for it, wasn’t he girls?” All the chicks swooned in agreement. “Tooootally,” said one punk girl as she patted and ran her fingers along Nick's cock bulge. It had to be a full moon! Two muscle-monster roommates of mine, basically threatening to rape me on the same day! Nick adjusted his cock to help it snake down his leg while the punk groupies rubbed him. It grew obscenely large, incredibly quickly. Two other girls were feeling him from behind, cupping at his pecs, squeezing his bis, but none of that stopped him from glaring down at me with a sneer. He flared his muscular back and the two babes gasped and moaned as they continued feeling him up. Hands were everywhere, dwarfed by his frame. It made me suddenly realize, as he flexed, that he'd grown so massive, he now rivaled most pro bodybuilders I'd seen pictures of! He was wearing some kind of purple dark unitard beneath the white wifebeater-- clothes only a Mexican luchador would choose-- clothes that managed to make every line of his growing cock and thick-ass legs stand out with a bright, glowing shine. He was looking like a glam-ish version of Conan, the Barbarian. He was just plain huge. Everyone looked like children next to his 6’5", thick, broad frame. “Show time! Means, time for you to go, critic!" He shoved me away, with a wink. "Later, you gotta tell me what you think of my show!" As could be expected for a band called "Roid Rage," their show was a bunch of guys torturing instruments and insulting their audience. It couldn't even be classified as thrash metal. It was just noise, a very loud noise, created just to deafen any ear. Of course, the primary focus of their stage show was Nick, lit by spots, destroying a guitar and yelling at a microphone. His guitar was a cheap piece of crap because it wouldn’t survive that night. By my side was an older guy, an odd figure amidst the clubgoers. He was entranced by the spectacle. and when Nick ripped off his sweaty wifebeater, this guys eyes practically burst into cartoony dollar signs. Apparently, he was a low-life unsuccessful music producer. Needless to say, he quickly became Nick's producer, but thankfully, and just as quickly, he faded into the background, becoming just another sex slave, worshiping at the altar of Nick's neverending growth. But, for the moment, he was just another guy who couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nick’s crotch. I realized that I had lost track of Bill, and he was nowhere to be seen. He was probably off fucking some girl(s). Some stupid lucky hoes. Some pretty, titty, trashy tramps that... weren't... me. Huh. Was I actually pissed that he was off long-dickin some gutter skanks when he should really be fucking me? Did I fall that hard for him, or, shit... them... that fast? Fuck!! My dick was sprung imagining Billy and Nick just destroying some faceless bar whores, but my heart was aching in an ugly jealousy that it wasn't me being banged unconscious by the two godly studs. Their lives were suddenly heavenly-- like twin white-hot suns, scorching to ash everything they looked upon. It made me think of Kafka’s Metamorphosis; it was about a twenty-something guy turning into a repulsive, very fragile giant cockroach. Enduring this transformation took everything he had. He survived, only to die in the end from hunger and loss, abandoned by all, even his family. It was a fucking sad story. Really. But here, it was the complete opposite-- it was Kafka antimatter! Each day, these boys were getting more and more appealing to everyone around them... Forcing a kind of pervasive mob-mentality onto the throngs of slack-jawed groupies, brain-washing them all into living for one thing, and one thing only, the worship of their bodies-- their muscles, their enormous biceps and pecs and quads-- their unchecked egos, their alpha male monster cocks, their insatiable appetites. Each day, their power and control grew, and their true prime alpha status became more and more obvious. And, stuck at ground zero? Little ol me. I've been forced to watch this whole... ascension... from the very beginning! I couldn’t hold in my own shameless desires for Nick and Billy any longer. Each day, I felt would finally be the day where I crumble and give in to my lust. My addiction was becoming harder and harder to feed. Sometimes, I'd find myself hiding in some cramped corner in the garage just to watch Bill work out. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that tomorrow they will actually be bigger. Bill's musings in the truck that day started to dominate my thoughts: when it will stop? Will it stop? What if they turn into giants, fucking and devouring everything in sight? They weren't anywhere near that point yet, but, my god, these boys were pushing all the right envelopes already. The sound of Nick obliterating his guitar ripped me out of my reverie. His massive frame filled my vision, abuptly interrupted by someone handing me a thick blunt. I glanced briefly at the generous club-goer, shrugged, and took a nice, long, suffocating hit. Nick was moving into a hard double-bi pose, his hips thrust forward, showing off that mouth-watering monster cock. It was just there, on full display under his sprayed-on skinny jeans. The crowd went wild with the sound of the guitar screaming as Nick jerked its dangling strings like some bitch's hair he was holding in place to slap with his dick. The high from the pot helped me finally realize that everyone in this nightclub was sharing the same nasty fantasies I was. We all wanted, minimum, to feel Nick’s iron muscles. Some were even shamelessly begging at Nick's feet, high up on the stage, while others were desperately fighting those insane urges. The latter few were the most amusing to watch; big dudes who thought of themselves as alpha males, realizing in shame that they all utterly paled in comparison to Nick. The deafening band was horrible, but Nick didn't need anything to command the respect of the club. In the center of the screeching noise, I could just make out a devouring kind of energy being evoked; it was chaotic like a hurricane and destructive like a tsunami. I had never heard anything like that. The interesting part of this metaphor was that Nick, essentially in the eye of the storm, was actually fueling the whole hurricane on stage. He spun and whipped, full of energy, full of muscle and veins, swollen and pumped like hell. And, suddenly, a pulse of light and thump of bass was the last… whatever this was. I found myself thinking the show was actually way too short. Everyone shouted and begged for more, but the band-- Nick-- didn’t give a shit. I was gasping for air like everyone in the club when I felt an unnatural, roaring heat behind me. I wavered a bit on my feet and bumped straight into something painfully hard and massive. I turned to figure out what the hell piece of furniture was suddenly behind me only to be shocked that the mass was fuckin Bill’s quad. I looked up at him, reeling, "Hey-hi, Bill! Uh... Where were you?” “Backstage. Fucking some twins." He said it so blasé. “Oh… uh..." I quickly understood why he was so hot-- I mean, his body temperature. You get the idea. Some other girls came to talk to Bill, but he just shoved them away, "Let’s go find Nick!” he said as he took my arm and pulled me backstage. We pushed through the decorations and people and I was stopped in my tracks. There, in the middle of everything and everyone, was Nick, sprawled on a ratty couch, getting his beautiful, giant cock worked over by an absolutely on point blonde hottie. He drained his beer and hurled it at the nearest wall. It exploded in glass, just adding to the nearly impassible layers of debris on the floor. Cans, glass, scraps of food and clothes, cigarette butts, baggies... all manner of shit made me scared to move for fear of falling on my face and catching hep-C. But, then Nick spotted me. “So, critic! I've been waiting all night! How many stars?” People went quiet when Nick spoke. Everyone looked at me. I had no words when Nick stood up, the blond still sucking his cock. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her off his tool. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to be treated like that. Every girl in this room wanted to be Nick’s whore. He casually tucked his huge hard cock inside the weird glam fatigued leotard he'd changed in to. “Answer me!" I jumped. “It... Uh... It was chaotic, like a hurricane. Destructive, like a tsunami." Everyone looked back at Nick, waiting for his reaction. Bill was the only one chuckling. “That’s a good one… I like it!" Nick said, thoughtfully. “Good review. You're safe, for tonight.” It hurt my pride, but I said, “thanks.” I was spared the public humiliation of being forced to deep throat Nick's amazing cock, but I had conflicting feelings about it. He fell back onto the couch and resumed his private sex show. I left before he changed his mind about publicly raping my throat. (to be continued ... )

So I know I haven't posted an actual story on here in a LONG time. So here is a cleaned up rp that I did with a personal friend (no he is not on the forums). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Preacher Curls “So you’re not gonna talk to me?” Janet Wilford guided the Ford Navigator down the turnpike, stealing glances at the slouched figure in the passenger seat. “Marcus. MARCUS. Don’t be a brat,” she scolded, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” “NO cursing,” she snapped, trying to sound authoritarian. She’d never been good at it – had a voice like a bird, and now a teenaged son that didn’t take her seriously because of it. “Don’t curse in church.” “I’m gonna stay in the car.” “For two hours? No you’re not.” "This is TWO HOURS?!” Marcus slumped against the window of the car like he’d been shot. “You’re the worst. Dad wouldn’t make me go to stupid church.” “That’s part of the problem.” “Don’t,” Marcus said with a grand roll of his eyes, as only teenagers could do. “Spare me the God shit.” “These are nice people,” Janet said through gritted teeth. “Church is more than just praying. Be polite.” She sighed and looked at his dingy plaid shorts. “Couldn’t you have at least worn pants?” "Couldn't you have not dragged me to church." He spat back. "I'd rather be playing Call of Duty or some shit." "Language!" Janet shouted back, "This'll be good for us. And if not, you better just grin and bear it. You might actually learn something." Marcus crossed his skinny arms and slouched. He knew there would be no reasoning with his mother. The Ford rolled into the large parking lot for the large Crossroads Family Church. His mother took a deep breathe. "Now we are here. Please be respectful at least." “Even the name’s dumb,” Marcus glared at the sign, like it was taunting him. “Why didn’t Avery or Bella have to come?” “Because they behave.” Marcus slammed the car door shut. “Oh, so this is s’posed to FIX me,” he chuckled cruelly. “Thanks Mom. Nice to know that you care.” “I DO care.” Janet’s frustration was coming increasingly to the forefront. “I just want you to find some good kids to be FRIENDS with!” “’cause mine are shitty huh? You hate my friends, say it, you hate my friends.” “They’re not good influe-” “You hate my friends!” Marcus accidentally said this as they opened the door and entered the church lobby, and Janet went red in the face when she realized people had heard. Marcus, to his credit, didn’t say it again. “Hi folks,” a very elderly, very stooped man in a plaid Oxford and khakis said. “Welcome to Crossroads, glad to have you here today.” Marcus stared at the ground as Janet talked to the man. He wore a name tag that said ‘My name is ELMER and I’m happy to help!’ “Here’s a bulletin for ya,” he said to Janet, and then repeated the phrase as he thrust one toward Marcus. Marcus didn’t see it at first because he wasn’t looking. Elmer held out the bulletin for a few moments before seeing Marcus wasn't paying attention. "What's wrong little guy?" Marcus grumbled back, "I'm not little." Surprising the elderly man heard the mumbled words. "Oh right, I'm sorry it must be my age. My eyes aren't what they are used to. Looks like we are having a casual day." Marcus looked up. "Huh?" “Back in my day, church was a big deal,” Elmer smiled, more to Janet than to Marcus. “Boys would never dream of goin’ to church without a collared shirt. But you feel so comfortable in the Lord’s House that you wear pajamas around it, and that’s okay.” “These aren’t pajamas,” Marcus said, taking the bulletin and walking away, but feeling suddenly self-conscious. He looked down at the dingy t-shirt – it had a skull on it – and the shorts that had been wadded up in a ball on his floor. He felt a little bad, but that annoyed him too…he didn’t come here for a guilt trip. Still, a shirt with a skull on it was maybe not the best thing to wear to church. He began picking at the black decal, just to pass the time as his mom talked to her friends, and to his surprise it peeled off pretty easily. In a matter of minutes he’d already torn off both the eye sockets, which made the skull look much less menacing. He continued to pick at it. Flakes of the synthetic material wafting to the floor. Then he felt something hard rub against the tips of his fingers. He picked at it until he thought it wasn't a good idea. With most of the skull decal gone, the shirt was plain black. His finger was resting again a white button. He looked confused. Was this shirt always a button-down? He shrugged it off. At least it looked nice, maybe he would blend in. He hoped for no more guilt trips about his attire, not that his pants were that much better than a skulled designed shirt. He passed by a mirror and looked at the shirt. It wasn’t a button-down, it was just a plain black t-shirt with a couple white buttons in the middle of it. Like they were spares sewn on for a rainy day or something. Marcus thought this was very strange, but he didn’t have anyone else to mention it to, and he couldn’t talk to his mom about it because she was freaking out about everything (she was so annoying), so instead he wandered over to the doughnut table. A plump woman with a friendly face was manning the doughnuts. “Welcome to Crossroads,” she chirped. “Thanks.” Marcus looked over the doughnuts and reached for one with his fingers. “Napkin, honey, napkin,” the woman said. “Oh, right...I wasn’t gonna touch any of the others.” Marcus grabbed a napkin anyway just to not get the woman riled up. “I’m surprised you want a doughnut! With how you look.” Marcus almost rolled his eyes but stopped himself. “I’m really skinny but I do eat,” he said, walking away with a glazed prize, missing the woman’s confused expression. Marcus' right sleeve grew taut as his bicep bunched up when he brought the doghnut to his mouth. He was getting tired of people commenting on how he looked. He was in the house of God. Would He really care what people wore as long as they came? He munched on the doughnut, the sweetness overwhelming his mouth a bit. "Too much sugar..." He thought. He looked to his mother who was still chatting non-stop with her friends. This was so boring. What a shitty day. If he’d been at Dad’s he would’ve still been asleep. No wonder he was so tired. Marcus ambled over to the beverages and poured himself a piping hot cup of coffee. He didn’t even like coffee, but a perk would do him good. “How about that Spieth kid, huh?” A friendly man struck up a conversation as he poured his own cup. “Yeah, uh, he’s real good,” Marcus mumbled, taking a sip of the bitter drink. His face puckered up and he wanted to add some sugar, but he resisted and took a second sip. This one was way better. The man continued the small talk with Marcus continuing to nod and give small replies, until he found himself getting into the conversation a bit more. "Yeah, it nice too see that he has turned a new leaf. So many troubled youth these days. I hope he sets a good example for them. I hope more follow in his footsteps." The friendly man agreed and they continued their conversation until the man's wife came by to take him to where his family was sitting. "What a good man." He thought as he watched the man walk away. Marcus looked down at his empty coffee cup, realizing that not only had he drunk the whole thing, but he’d filled up a second and finished that one off too. He had a nice buzz going as he tossed the cup into the trash. The coffee had elevated his mood and put some pep in his step. And thankfully, it had warmed him up, because for some reason he’d worn a t-shirt and shorts to church, and the a/c was blasting in here. He thought about turning it down, even thought about where the dial was located, but decided against it. He walked past his mother, down the aisle of pews to the altar. After genuflecting, he stood there and took in the neatly arranged altar. It was then an altar boy bumped into him and dropped the Bible he was carrying. Marcus bent down to pick it up and he felt the back of his shirt ride up. He handed it to the boy and smiled as the kid ran off. He tucked the tail of his shirt into his pants. He paused as he felt a leather strap running around his waist. He looked puzzled at the black belt holding up his pants. Since when did he wear a belt? It was a nice belt – shiny leather, with a silver buckle. Marcus was so focused on it that it took him a moment to realize that his ratty plaid shorts were actually ratty plaid…pants. This made his mind reel. He got nervous that the legs had ripped off and fallen and his butt was exposed or something, but he patted around himself and no – everything intact, just…pants. He could hear people’s conversations starting to diminish and saw the worship team filing in with their instruments in hand. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up from stage fright when he realized everyone was starting to sit down and he was standing up in front of the congregation. Marcus quickly scuttled to the first open pew and sat in it, refusing to look back at his mom as the modern worship team launched into a pleasant song – it wasn’t some boring hymn, it was almost like a rock song he’d hear on the radio. Except it was about Jesus and how great he was. Marcus found himself tapping his sneakers against the carpet. As he tapped his sneakers, the whiteness faded from them. The logo became lost in the blackening fabric and smoothed out to match the rest of the shoe. Soon the shoes were entirely black and had a new sheen to them. The tapping became louder as the shoe, along with his foot, stretch further and wider until they were a rather larger size 15. They looked almost like fancy clown shoes for a man his height. When he realized he was tapping his foot, he stopped. Instead he started tapping his finger against his thigh. Damn, this was a great song, and the worship leader had a terrific voice. Marcus felt inspired to sing along, croaking out a word here and there. The words were up on the screens, but Marcus had never had a great sense of rhythm, so he wasn’t good at getting the whole verses – but he could spot when each phrase was ending, so he would chime in a nice “Goooooddd” or “aboooooove” with the rest of the congregation. The first song ended and Marcus wondered if he should take this opportunity to go back to his mom. But then the worship leader began praying, so instead Marcus bowed his head – didn’t shut his eyes, though, he wasn’t a big praying guy – and stayed still. He folded his hands together and closed his eyes, hoping to blend in. If he had his eyes open or not focusing so much on what the worship leader was saying, he would have seen or heard his knuckles crack and expand, causing his finger to lengthen and thicken and his palms to widen. That wasn't the only part of his arm shifting. His shirt grew tight where his bicep was as sinew was added to the muscle. It bulked out and pressed tightly against the shirt as it started to take on a new material. As Marcus’s biceps swelled out, they pushed enough against the t-shirt sleeves that the fabric started to split – and where the black ripped apart, a light lavender color appeared. There was also a thin line of lavender down the middle of Marcus’s back, where the shirt was curiously strained. Marcus stuck his hand under his arm and itched, feeling the bloated bicep shoving against the side of his body. The seams of his t-shirt were also starting to turn light purple, and the plaid of his pants was becoming a much more subtle pattern that blended into the dark gray wool that now composed them. As the worship leader stopped praying, Marcus opened his eyes and flicked through the church bulletin as the next song started up. His eyes fell on some words at the top of a page: “MARTUS TILFORD.” Was that someone’s name? It was so close to his own, what a coincidence. And ‘martus’ was actually Greek for ‘witness’. Maybe this Martus Tilford was being a witness for Christ somewhere. Not that Marcus gave a shit about that, he told himself, trying to maintain his disinterest, but then they started reading a passage from the Bible. His ears perked up as they began to read the story. His disinterest was fading fast. He felt enamored with the message of the story and how excellently it was explained. It seemed so wonderful to his. As he sat and listened, he started to sit up straighter, and higher, his ass pushing off the pew and straining the seat of his pants. “Before we continue,” the worship leader said, “let’s all stand and greet one another.” Marcus stood up and suddenly felt horribly dizzy, to the point of needing to grab the pew in front of him so he didn’t fall. He looked down at everyone around him and realized that he was either tall, or everyone else was really short. There was a kid in the pew behind him who extended his hand. Marcus met it. “Mornin’ pal,” he said, annoying himself with his own cheerfulness. That coffee had really done a number on him. He went down the pew with a big smile on his face, vigorously shaking hands. “Good morning. Hi, how ya doing? G’morning. So glad you’re here. Hi, Marcus. Nice to meet you. Martus, good to see ya! Happy Sunday. Hello, I’m Martus. How are you today? I’m so glad.” He was taller than every single man or woman he met, and his hand enveloped theirs every time. Marcus looked at his hand when he went back to his seat. It was a big hand – thick fingers, a broad palm. Meaty and creased, and bulging with muscle, like he’d been laying bricks in his spare time or something. He looked at the white buttons running up the front of his t-shirt, and for the first time noticed that the black fabric had odd splotches of lilac here and there. The sleeves hung past his elbows now and clung tightly to his curiously big upper arms, which were laughably disproportionate to the rest of his body. His forearms were still skinny but had some shockingly large veins crisscrossing up to his biceps. Marcus traveled one of his big fingers along the vein and fingered the soft violet fabric appearing over his arms. He liked twill fabric, it was thick and durable, and the sheen highlighted his muscles. He always got twill dress shirts. Just thinking of this was enough to cause a tall folded collar to pop out of the top of Marcus’s t-shirt, the points flopping out like wings around his neck. The collar sat flush against the back of Marcus’ neck, covering the skin up to the hairline. Sleeves shot down Marcus’s arms and buttoned cuffs formed around his wrists. The lavender spots spread out over the black as Marcus swayed to the worship song. He reached up and stuck a finger inside his shirt collar. It felt strange, and yet right, to be sporting a collared shirt. What had Elmer said? Something about shirt collars and how it was good to wear them to church. Church was presenting yourself before God, and you should dress up a little. A nice dress shirt, sure, nice pants. Marcus patted his waistline to make sure his shirt was still tucked in. Those standing behind Marcus were craning their necks a little more than before. The boy’s back was getting wider, and combined with his towering height, it was hard to see over or around him. His lats gently, but noticeably, had popped out and pushed at his bulging arms, straining the back of his dress shirt more. The fabric was getting tighter all over, and soon Marcus had to reach up and open the second button on his shirt, exposing a line running down the center of his tanned chest, as his pectorals cropped up. Marcus raised one hand above his head toward the heavens as he sang. He looked up at the church’s ceiling and noticed the lavender shirt cuff around his wrist, remarking to himself that he’d never liked that color, except now he was wearing it. His eyes traced his arm, noting how the muscles were making the sleeve’s fabric tighten, and wandered down to his torso, where the shirt’s white buttons now stood out against a sea of lilac twill, puckering slightly over his chest and stomach. He looked large. His pecs were starting to stand out pretty far, making the open buttons of his shirt sit that much further apart. Marcus stole a glance over at Elmer, the greeter. The man was so stooped and yet still praising the Lord – it was inspiring. Elmer couldn’t stand up straight, but Marcus sure could on his behalf. The boy heaved his large chest up, flared out his lats and straightened his spine, pulling himself up to his full magnificent 6’5” height. Marcus sang along with the rest of the congregation. His neck pushed the collar of his shirt apart as it thickened. Along with the corded muscle of his neck, his vocal cords also changed. His voice became deeper and melodic. As he sang, he put more enthusiasm into it. In fact, it also seemed like the now large young man was leading the whole church in the song. He even smiled and the notes tumbled out of his mouth. Once the song ended, he sat down and glanced at the bulletin. SOmething caught his eye. "Parcus Tillman." He read then thought to himself. "Was that the same guy it had said when I first read it?" Marcus squinted at the program. Without thinking about it, he unhooked a pair of reading glasses from his shirt and placed them on his face, where they fit perfectly and lent his countenance some gravitas. He then pushed his long bangs back from his forehead so that they didn’t get caught under the glasses, and a curious thing happened – despite him not having any product in his thick hair, his hair stayed swept back, molded into a style by invisible pomade. His hairline inched back at the temples, going from a straight line to a peak, and Marcus absently itched between the open buttons of his shirt as hair began to sprout on his chest. He even felt hairs bristle against the lower part of his sleeves. The feeling was also mimicked in the legs of his pants. Then he had to look down. Leg of his pants? "Wasn't I wearing shorts?" But when he looked down, all he could see was a pair of nicely pressed khakis that were taut over his bulky thighs. "No... I'd never wear shorts to church." He chuckled lightly to himself. "I must be getting old if I'm forgetting what pants I'm wearing." A faint shadow formed around his lips as he grinned. Brown hair follicles pushed their way out from his chin and lips, forming a well-kept stubble. Absent-mindedly, he stroked his stubble as the worship session went on. His stomach gurgled and he thought back to what he’d eaten for breakfast: six eggs, two pieces of toast, Greek yogurt, bacon, lots of coffee, and a special Sunday morning treat, a cinnamon roll. His stomach gently filled in and pushed against the buckle of his belt, changing the profile view of his body somewhat. Marcus reached down and loosened his belt to the next notch, discreetly adjusting his package in his pants as he did so. He had more beef than a second ago. His jaw was fleshier, his chest fuller, his abs rounding out like a dome and pushing against the buttons of his dress shirt. And though it would have been unimaginable just that morning, now the stubble on Marcus’ face was looking thick and furry, quickly growing into a full beard. It was natural for men like him to not be so defined. He couldn't stay shredded forever he told himself, but he sure was going to try and keep it as long as he could. He was doing a great job at it too. His abs were still visible, he could keep up with the young’uns in the gym. Hell, he even played on a local football team. Suddenly, he felt some constriction around neck. Reaching up to his neck, he loosened his tie a little, the back of his hand brushing the bushy, but well-kept beard. His smile was beaming as the reader read the next passage. His pearly white teeth contrasting nicely with his brown beard. Feeling his shirt and collar getting continually and curiously tighter, Marcus reconsidered and removed his tie, rolling it up and setting it on the seat next to his Bible. He opened up the next button down on his shirt to give himself a little more breathing room, and while he did this, he heard some unpleasant popping noises come through the church speaker. Looking down, he saw a tiny black microphone pinned to one of the open buttonholes of his shirt, and he felt a wire snake around his thick body and attach to a mic box clipped to the back of his pants. Marcus’ smile quickly faded. Why was he mic’ed up…did they…expect him to TALK? Panicked, he grabbed the bulletin. SERMON: PARTES TILLMAN – THE BODY AS THE TEMPLE. Thank God that wasn’t his name, although his body was certainly a temple. Marcus looked down at his muscles, which were still bulging bigger, threatening to rip his shirt and pants. Man, he looked like a bodybuilder. He could even sort of remember competing. The panicked expression slowly faded from his face. Of course he used to compete. He started bodybuilding when he was a teen. He had a rough childhood, mainly stemming from his parent's divorce. He was wild and rebellious, but then found how destructive it could be. He had decided to channel his frustrations into the gym. He worked out like a madman. He swithced his diet and even found a weight lifting partner who would compete alongside him. That's how he found the church too, thanks to... He had to think for a moment. He couldn't quite remember his apparently old friend's name. Marcus shut his eyes for a bit and tried to think, and with his eyelids closed, his body swelled remarkably. He’d been big to begin with, but he crossed that threshold quickly and blew into an oversized XXL hulk, his shoulders alone taking up three or four seats on the pew. His belt buckle was forced down as his abs grew out over it. His shirt sleeves thinned over gargantuan, rippling arms, but none of this compared to his chest, which grew out so enormously that Marcus, when his eyes opened, thought he had a couple kids sitting in his lap. His peripheral vision was picking up his pecs and thinking they were people’s heads. He was, by far, the biggest person in the church, in every way – including the enormous bulge that was hanging for all to see in between his thighs. The Lord had been very generous in that department. The Lord had been very generous with a lot of things in his life. He had a body he could build, friends he could share his life with, he had a job that he loved. He smiled as he thought of how blessed he was in life. Some crow's feet and a few wrinkles showing on his face as he did so. The reader finished the passage and he looked at the bulletin to see what was listed next. Sermon: PERTES TILMEN. He chuckled at such an odd name. Someone else was chuckling, too – two very muscular teenage boys next to him, repeatedly nudging each other. Marcus didn’t even think about it, he just grabbed one of the boys and pulled him apart from the other one. Completely second nature. The twins were always horsing around at the least opportune time. “Behave yourself,” Marcus hissed under his breath, “I’m about to preach.” It was like a lightning bolt went off in his brain, right between his ears. One of the church deacons was introducing the pastor of the morning, who had passed his interviews with the elder board and was now going to preach a “trial sermon” before the congregation. Marcus was slowly ascertaining that the man was talking about him. The reader was finishing up the introduction. "Now please rise as Peter Tilmen comes to give us his first sermon." He motioned for the giant of a man to come forward to the altar. The twins, Aiden and Adam, watched as their father lumbered up to the podium and shook the reader's hand, once again completely engulfing it. The twins took after their father, tall, built, and handsome. He cleared his throat and turned towards the congregation. He certainly did not need the microphone, se he did not lean in like the reader did. "Thank you for having me," he began. Marcus wanted to say that he didn’t know what he was doing. His heart was racing a mile a minute, but his mind was impressively calm. “Now, let’s get this out of the way – the first thing people notice about me is that I’m pretty big. You’ll notice my sermon is entitled ‘The Body As The Temple,’ and well…not all temples are the same size.” There was some polite chuckling at this, and that made Marcus relax a little. And the more Marcus relaxed, the more Peter took over. “I’ve been a competitive bodybuilder for almost three decades now, and I have found this level of dedication brings me closer to God in many ways, and sharpens me for my true calling, which is the pulpit.” Some people were definitely just staring at the mountain of a man and not listening to his message, however his charisma had already won the rest of the congregation over and held their rapt attention. As he moved on, he became more confident with his speaking. Peter was easily moving Marcus out of his mind. Marcus... did he even know a Marcus? He continued on with his sermon. "God has given us all our crosses to bear. Just instead of walking with mine, I squat with it." Another couple of chuckles came from the audience, mostly from the younger crowd and the twins. He smiled warmly. "We all have our hardships and it is what we do with them that makes us who we are. We can either allow them to overcome us and lead us to sin, or we can overcome them and lead ourselves on the path of God." “But before I continue, let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Peter Tilmen, born in Pennsylvania, grew up in California, grew big in Texas where I went to seminary. I am a widower, so I am sorry to say that I will not be able to offer your good church a first lady.” The single women of the church all scooted forward in their seats. “I do come bearing two other gifts, my boys, Aiden and Adam,” Peter continued. “They’re great boys. Most of the time.” Peter’s eyes sparkled at them. They both smiled back at him. Their smiles the trademark Tilmen smile, wide and pearly white. Their smiles held a hint of mischievousness. He was glad to have avoided anyone making the everything-is-bigger-in-Texas joke, but he knew it would be bound to come up some time. Some jokes got old faster than he did. He didn't want to dawdle on his own personal life for too long and continued to preach his sermon. Once he finished his sermon, he sat down back with his twins. The congregation clapped for him as well as the first reader. "Thank you Mr. Tilmen." The rest of the worship session went smoothly. Him and his boys singing and praying together as it drew to a close. "Now there will be refreshments and snacks in the back. Have a blessed day." Ambient voices talked to each other as everyone began to file out of the large room. Adam and Aiden were quickly approached by some well-dressed girls around their age. He chuckled as some women approached him. "They take after their father." He thought to himself as he engaged the women in polite conversation. Peter shook a lot of hands that morning. He talked about bodybuilding with three very interested teen boys. He talked to Elmer the greeter. And one of the last people he talked to was a teen in the parking lot. “A hoodie? Buddy, buddy, ya gotta dress up for church. You’re coming to the Lord’s house, you gotta look nice!”

This was a short and sweet one I did, toying with the idea of a series. Not sure if I posted on here before. Enjoy TC Miss Darcy's Stable By TattcubCopyright © 2014 Tattcub. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.Hi all, Haven't posted for a while. This is a short and sweet one that hopefully will spawn more stories as I go on. Enjoy. P.S. I know there may be a few little spelling/grammar errors, please don't let that spoil your fun. TC My name, dear heart, is Miss Darcy. I am an artist. I am a sculptress of destiny. I am passion, I am desire, I am a karmic razor. I am a complete bitch when I am feeling exceptionally fabulous. I am also a witch, a rather good witch in fact. I believe in crime and punishment, and the principle of what goes around, comes around.' But, make no mistake, I am not a wicked person or a fury. The people I punish deserve it. In fact, anyone I deal with is generally the architect of their own, well - I don't think destruction is the right word here...let's say retribution, that's closer. I don't punish the innocent. I reward them, whether they think they deserve it or not. I have sisters all over the world. Some keep a low profile, and some don't. One even set up a nightclub and is doing excellent work there, by all accounts. I am more of a free spirit than she. I drift from town to town, place to place. I go where I sense I am needed. And today, I was needed in New York. I was sitting at a small cafe, sipping a divine iced tea and watching the world go by. My attention was drawn to a luxurious car that the driver had just reversed into a parking space while talking on his mobile phone (dreadful things, those phones). You know his type, my dear: sharp suit, $300 haircut and a bad attitude. He didn't look properly and ended up hitting the delivery truck parked in the next bay. He stormed out of the car, marched straight to the truck and starting abusing the young driver who had literally only just started the engine. The delivery boy - named Dwight, bless him - just stood there and flinched every now and again while he let the city boy unload his vitriolic rant. Darlings, you have no idea how much poor manners anger this Georgia girl. Now where was I? Oh yes, poor little Dwight. Ill-fitting uniform and an equally ill-fitting body. He had a lot going for him: he was kind, friendly and generous to the core. A decent man. A boy blessed with heart of an angel and the body of a permanent teenager. Dwight was mid-twenties but definitely passed for 18 or 19. He still had the pale, sweaty complexion of a teenager, blemishes and all. His long, thin hair and heavy-framed spectacles really did nothing to reveal the boy's delightful inner charm.He kept on pushing the heavy frames back up his long too pointed nose. He jad no chin to speak of and what he did have wasn't visible as he kept his head bowed in submission to the obvious superior man he was dealing with. His skinny arms hung out of his too baggy short sleeved uniform shirt. They dangled there like to bits of string tied in a knot where the elbows should be. His legs were not much better. Oversized shorts with too big boots and pipe cleaner legs. Dwight couldn't fight his way out of a wet toilet paper bag. He was the quintesential wimp, the geekm the eternal teenager. Spotty face and spectacles and all. He was the sort of man who was eaten alive by the Alphas. Alphas like the one that was currently bellowing at him. His opponent,the "Alpha" (Yes dear you can still hear the sarcasm in my voice) Wade Bradley, was red with fury and frothing at the mouth slightly. Through his fitted suit, it was clear that Wade had the nicely toned body of a man who could afford a personal trainer and had the dedication to back it up. He was good-looking, from his thick black hair to the clear blue eyes that surely brought the ladies to their knees. He matched these natural attributes with expensive shoes and a manicure, but the man forgive my swearing was a true asshole. Something had to be done, and this is where I came in. I decided I could play this in a few ways and decided that a cause-and-effect spell would be rather splendid here. I clutched the pendant round my neck and muttered a few arcane and mysterious phrases unheard of in this realm: "What you do, Wade, cannot be, you bring your own catastrophe. Dwight you now will be rewarded; Wade's downfall means you will be applauded." What did you expect dear? I am a witch of quality, not a poet. The original translation rhymes much better. One has to work with what she has. And regardless, magic is all about the intent. I settled back in my chair to watch the fun begin. \-------- Wade was certain he was in the right. He was a Bradley, dammit, so he was right by definition! A spoiled man who was used to getting his way. "Goddammit, you geek! What the hell do you think you were doing, asshole?" he screamed into the face of the retard in the brown shorts, with stick-thin legs poking through their openings like string with knots for knees. "S-sssorry s-sir," said the peon, whose name tag read Dwight. "Dwight, is it?" Wade said in a condescending tone, "when I am finished with you, you won't have a license to push a toy cart around. Sorry just isn't good enough," he continued, pointing his finger in the guys face. It satisfied him to see a red flush creeping up the guy's neck onto his sallow cheeks. Good, Wade thought, satisfied that he had embarrassed the guy enough into believing it was his fault that the two vehicles had crashed and not Wade's, even though Wade was the one who had been in the middle of a call to another girlfriend his wife had no idea about. "You get paid to drive that hunk of junk, you should kn-know better!" He shouted as he waved an arrogant finger in Dwight's face, his anger deafening him to his own mid-sentence stutter. "Sir, I think it was your f-fault. I hadn't even started the van," Dwight said clearly this time, surprised that he'd managed to get a word in edgewise and quite proud that his stutter had held back for the majority of the sentence. He was a PhD student and was really only doing this job part-time to help his parents who were paying his tuition. He didn't want them to struggle, so he did this job alongside the long hours of hitting the books and the test tubes. He caught a brief flash of light and his eye was drawn for a second to a café, where a sensibly dressed lady was sipping iced tea and watching him rather intently. She smiled at him and raised her glass politely. He felt dizzy for a moment, must be the heat and the embarrassment of this asshole having a go at him. "Sir," he said in a voice that was high and tremulous a few seconds ago, but now seemed rougher. It had a hint of decisiveness as well. "SIR!" Wade was momentarily confused by the delivery guy's rumbling voice...wasn't he just stuttering with the voice of a pencilneck? Not the bass boom he had just heard, which was a voice that demanded respect. "S-ss-sir," said Wade automatically. As he spoke it was almost as if an invisible needle had pricked him, deflating his huge ego just a little. He felt internally smaller, almost. Dwight was holding a package in his skinny arms. The oversized sleeves of his uniform, hanging almost to his elbows, did nothing to enhance his look in any way. He glanced down at the package again and noticed the hairs on the back of his hands. He didn't have hair on his hands, did he? He barely had it anywhere...it was like his body had taken a quick look at puberty and waved it away to the next person in the queue. He stared at his hand. It seemed to swell. The fingers grew firm and calloused. He even noticed an unusual bulge of muscle on the meaty ball of his hand and thumb that only comes from years of heavy lifting. His eyes travelled up to his forearms, which were swelling too, filling with hard corded muscle. Massively thick and covered with the same black hair he'd noticed on his hands. Thick veins crisscrossed the monstrous forearms, flexing and swelling underneath the swarthy paper-thin skin. Next, Dwight felt the heavy swell of his biceps in the sleeves of his rapidly tightening uniform, filling the bursting material with thick, heavy, veined beef. The drop of the triceps underneath, with their perfectly-striated horseshoe shapes, completed the arms which revealed themselves as the overstretched material finally gave way with an audible rip. Dwight was left holding the package with the arms of a god. The shredded sleeves receded further up as his shoulders started to flex out, raising the ruined shirt higher as it was pulled out of the uniform trousers. His delts grew and rounded out: perfect, round mounds of solid muscle that led to the traps. The traps started to grow, rapidly mounding up and swallowing Dwight's thickening neck, going from a 15.5 to 21 inches in a few seconds, almost up to his ears in a monstrous triangle of beast-man muscle. The neck was a much more fitting home for his voice's bassy thunder. I tell you dears, this old girl is looking around her handbag for her fan. Then, Dwight's chest just unfolded from underneath his humongous traps. His pecs dropped out of his skin like two slabs overfilled with concrete. They literally tore what remained of his work shirt apart. Striated and huge with beautiful dark nipples, thickening and pointing ever downwards due to the vast shelf of immovable muscle behind them. Dwight raised his hand and pointed at the somehow smaller lawyer. "You should have more respect mister, you never know who or what trouble you will run into, he boomed. "You ran into me, not the other way around." His deep rumbling voice made his balls churn. He felt so good right now. So hot. Dwight towered over the now much smaller Wade, who seemed to pull inwards a little more. Wade's hair was a little more dishevelled, and his suit seem looser somehow. Wade's mouth suddenly felt dry as the delivery guy turned the tables on him. "Maybe it WAS my fault", Wade thought. The van driver was huge. Big muscle bulging out everywhere. Wade felt a twinge in his groin, his cock reacting to the driver's sudden Alpha Male power that had gone unnoticed before. "Err..." Said the suddenly unsure Wade. "I'm s-sorry about the van" Wade was horrified. He hadn't meant to say anything to this monster. He might get hit or something. Something about the thought of being dominated by the uniformed hulk in front of him made his cock jump again. Blood seemed to be rushing to his dick and out of his brain. Again he had the feeling of getting shorter. "What's going on? " he said out loud and realised that his voice, like his body was now somehow smaller. He couldn't think straight and felt confused and suddenly frightened. He remembered he was the one who had started the argument with the delivery guy but couldn't remember why. The man was so powerful he couldn't do anything except look up at the towering figure of muscle now looming above him. He gulped as he looked at the guys huge traps and shoulders. The massive shelf of his pecks and the tightness of the waist. The guys back was beyond human and led to an ass that defied description except that it was the bubble but of all muscle bodies. The mans legs showed through his uniform, perfectly form pillars of huge, male power. Wade felt his now little dick get hard. "I'm sorry sir" He whispered halfway between awe and terror. Dwight shifted his huge bulk, all the muscle fighting for place with each other. His clothes stretched out a little more until he'd completed his transformation. Dwight realised what had been done to him as he marvelled at his beautiful vascular forearms and bunched and flexed his biceps in amazement. He also new who was responsible. He glanced over at the cafe for the strange lady. She sat there quite primly and once again raised her glass of tea to him. He tipped his hat and mouthed the words "Thank you ma'am" to her. She smiled at him. And then was gone. Dwight looked down at Wade and saw that the little man was staring at him in amazement. He even noticed the slight bulge in the guys trousers. "Do you like what you see, little man?" said the 290lb monster of muscle "Yyes S-ssir, I do." came the reply. "Are you sorry for your rudeness? " He said "Yes sir" "Want to apologise ?" "I am sorry sir." Said the tiny Wade, no longer the big man. Dwight flexed his biceps in front of him and assumed the famous crab position, His massive from jumped to attention through his uniform popping the top two buttons and ripping out the sleeves. His traps tried to crawl to the top of his head as his thick neck all but disappeared in the mountainous muscle. Wade gasped and reached out a hand to touch Dwight and Dwight let him. He suddenly felt a wet patch and realised he'd shot his load then and there. He felt ashamed and confused. Dwight smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "No hard feelings little guy" said the mammoth man. "I'll see you around" He turned and squeezed into his truck and was gone. Wade stood there in the street with cum staining his oversized pants. He had to find the guy again...

Tagline: Two young friends discover an ancient shrine that grants them immortal power. Note: This story originally appared on a different site years ago. At the resquest of a fellow M-G member, I rewrote it for this community. Any thoughts/comments/suggestions/ways of improvement are always appreciated. Thank you. I awoke with a shove. “Ouch. What?” I asked as I pried my eyes open. “Max, Max, get up!” “What?” I answered, still half asleep. “Tyler? Is that you?” “Yea man, I gotta show you something, come with me.” Tyler backed away. I slowly raised myself on my cot to see Tyler, full of energy, walking around in my A-frame tent. We were spending our spring hiking in Greece. I rubbed my eyes and looked up at him. “I found something, something incredible. I gotta show you.” he said. “Dude,” I answered, looking over at my watch, “it's...what...3am what are you doing wondering out there by yourself?” “It doesn't matter, you gotta hurry!” Tyler was still only in his boxers and gym shorts, a pair of flip flops on his feet. “You aren't even dressed for hiking,” I said. “It's only about a quarter mile, come on man!” he answered. I unzipped my sleeping bag and pulled myself out of my cot. I looked around for my own gym shorts and slipped them over my briefs. “I'll meet you outside,” Tyler said. I pulled on a pair of hiking shoes, slipped on a tee shirt and climbed out of the tent. In the middle of the Mediterranean, the stars were beautiful. I looked up to see a full moon too. “Wow,” I said. “This way,” he shouted, running down a trail. I followed Tyler on a trail away from camp. Tyler's flashlight gave us only a few feet view of what was around us. Even though it was a summer night, it was surprisingly cool. Tyler, walking briskly, was hard to keep up with. “Dude, please tell me why you woke me up.” I was a little surprised he woke me up so late, and he knew I was upset at him. I assumed it must have been important. “Earlier this evening I was gathering some firewood and I felt a strange draft coming from in between a few rocks,” Tyler said excitedly, “so I went to investigate. The rocks were old, there were trees and moss growing on it I had to imagine that the area inside had been undiscovered for years, maybe 2,000 years, maybe more, I don't know. So I took a shovel and shoved some of it aside. Dude, there is a cave inside the rocks, completely undiscovered I know it! There's something in there too you gotta check it out!” He led me off the path and into a deep thicket of trees and shrubs. It was hard to navigate. “What did you find?” I asked. “I'm not sure,” he answered, “but it looks pretty incredible. I don't want to tell anyone yet but it's hard to explain I gotta show you.” Still shirtless, Tyler must have a hard time navigating the thick brush. Even in my own hiking shoes it was difficult traversing so far off the path. We walked to a small crevice in between a few fallen boulders. “Come on we gotta climb in here.” He ordered. “What?” I responded. “Climb in there? Dude I can barely fit.” “You're a shrimp, man!” Tyler said, almost mockingly. “I got probably 20 pounds of muscle on you and I can fit. You can handle it.” With a scorn on my face I answered, “screw you dude,” I always sort of envied Tyler's good looks and strength. I guess it wasn't in my genes to be all that buff. But, caving in, I fit myself through the crevice in the rocks and dropped 2 feet onto the cave floor. “How are we supposed to get out?” I asked. “We can hoist each other up, no problem,” Tyler answered. Looking around, the cave looked pretty large. “I'm surprised no one else has found this,” I said. “Maybe it wasn't meant to be found until now,” Tyler cryptically answered. We walked through a narrow passageway and opened into an atrium of sorts. Paintings adorned the cavern walls; they looked like Ancient Greek. Drawings of animals and of men, stars, the sun, plants. They were suprisingly intact. “Look at this script,” Tyler said. I walked over to see multiple languages sprawled across the wall. “Are these Greek writings?” “Yea, I think it's Greek,” Tyler answered. “But this is what you gotta check out.” I followed him to an ornate and elaborate stone altar. Although it was made of stone, paintings aligned the walls and floors around it and jewels sat on carefully sculpted rock columns around the altar. There was another smaller offering table to the right of the big one, and more foreign characters on the tables themselves. “Look at these pictures,” Tyler said, as he pointed them out his hand ran across the pictures. “What's that look like to you?” pointing to the first one. I answered, “It appears to be a man. Is it a Greek...guy?” “Yea it shows a hoplite. It looks like a Greek warrior, man!” Tyler said, “Max, look: he's wearing a tunic, a helmet, saber...here keep following the drawings it's explaining a ceremony.” I followed his finger as he interpreted the paintings. “The warriors walk up to the smaller offering table. Look here, they take off their armor, then their clothing, and lay it on the smaller altar. After they get naked, they walk up to the big altar. Then, they space their feet apart here, if all goes well, this large painting appears and they touch it.” Tyler pointed the drawing of the naked soldier, reaching out and touching the painting. “Look at this, then the crystals are powered by the clothing he sacrificed, and he's given...muscle. Or even powers, I think?” “Powers?” I asked. “Yea, man, look! He grows, gains these electric powers, he manifests something. It's nuts isn't it?” Looking closely at the paintings I saw that Tyler was right. The Greek warrior gained muscle mass, his eyes changed to a glowing red, and he seemed to manifest some kind of supernatural power. “Wow, man!” I said. “Did you try it?” "What? No! But I got close, when I lay my clothes on the altar, the painting appears, but I didn't want to touch the painting unless someone else was here." “Okay,” I said, as a smile grew on my face. I pulled my shirt off as I walked toward the smaller altar. “I'm trying it.” I answered. “Wait, what? No man, I want to do it I just brought you down here in case something happened,” Tyler answered. “Fuck that, man, I've been your little follower the last 5 years I'm doing it.” I threw my shirt down on the altar and kicked my shoes off. I sat on the altar and pulled off my socks. Although I doubted that anything would actually happen, the thought of it possibly occurring was too exciting not to try it. And if it did I wanted to gain it before Tyler would. “Dude just calm down. Let me show you,” Tyler said pulling off his own shirt and throwing it onto the altar. “I brought you down here so you could see in case something happened, you can try after me.” I pushed him off the altar, a decision I made instinctively to keep me on my course. “Watch it, fucker! I want to do it!” Tyler backed away, surprised by my reaction but I so badly wanted it I was willing to fight. “Ok. Fine. Just be careful” he said, backing a few feet away. I kicked his T-shirt off before looking quickly over to the drawings and retraced the warrior's procedure: get naked, leave clothes on small altar, walk head high to the big altar and stand there, put feet into position, touch the painting. I looked back over to the altar as I slid down my gym shorts. “How long has it been? Since this has been done?” I asked. “I don't know,” Tyler answered. “Long enough for our history to forget about it.” I turned around still in my briefs and looked down to Tyler. “Do you think the altar will take 21st century clothing?” I asked. Tyler didn't think it was funny, “dude, I really think I should try this first. You don't know what's going to happen.” “Too late dude, I'm already getting naked. Hope you don't mind,” I said, pulling my briefs down. The draft on my naked body in the cave felt cool and it was nice, if a little awkward. “You do what you gotta do.” Tyler answered, a little bitter and not making eye contact. I was a bit embarrassed to show my frail, naked body and small package, particularly compared to Tyler's bulkiness, but I wished it would be the last time I would look like that at all. We had been naked in front of each other before and I certainly wasn't afraid of the act, but I was more compelled to do it. I felt a breeze over my rear and through my legs, drying off my nervous sweat. Thinking to myself I kept asking “what are you doing? Are you crazy?” as I cupped my package and stepped out of my briefs. But when I did a magnificent painting of a muscular man illuminated on the wall. “Woah,” I said. I turned away from Tyler and stared at the painting. “Who is that?” I asked. “Is it a man? Or a god?” I had to keep moving. I walked toward the altar, head high, and climbed the small steps onto the large altar. “The painting just lit up.” Tyler said, “Just like that.” “What do I do now?” I asked, feet spaced apart on the altar. “I think...I think you touch it,” Tyler said. “But...be careful, man.” I turned around to see Tyler watching my naked backside with anticipation, I let my hands go from guarding my crotch. Double checking the painting I appeared to be in the correct stance to initiate the ceremony. I took one more look around the cave, mustering the strength to try this. I lifted my right hand and, slowly, reached it out, eager to gain the powers and believing so much that the drawings were true. Looking down at my scrawny body I convinced myself that, as strange as this was, it was worth the attempt, and touched the painting. It grew brighter. My hand felt hot but I kept it there. I came this far I had to see what would happen. The crystals around me also began to grow brighter. I looked around, turned my head back to see Tyler, mouth wide open. “What's happening?” I asked, but before Tyler could respond the paint quickly drained from the wall in front of me and circled through the rock of the cavernous walls and toward the glowing crystals, powering them, causing two of them to hit me with a powerful and searing spark. “Argh!” I doubled over, removing my hand from the wall. My skin became coated in the electric bolts. I turned around and lifted my arms up. Two more crystals shot at me and again, shocked, I fell onto the altar. “Ahhhh!” I screamed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my clothing disintegrating and melting into the smaller table. “Argh! What's...happening to...me?” I shouted, afraid, looking down at my melting clothing. As the smaller altar absorbed them, their essence too traveled into the four crystals, like rain trickling down a sidewalk, my clothing integrated into the crystals. The crystals quickly changed colors as a more powerful energy emanated out of them and onto me. Onto my altar. “Oh my god what am I doing?” I kept thinking to myself. I was too paralyzed to move, to try to escape the clutches of the sparks engrossing my body. My heart began racing as my breathing accelerated. The four active crystals continued to hit me and as I lifted my upper body, ass still on the alter. Then, the most incredible thing happened. I saw myself changing. My body was involuntarily twisting itself. My chest twisted left, then right, as muscle began forming on its sides. The muscle rounded and settled over my chest as I struggled to stand back up but managed to regain composure. Lifting my knees and re-standing, but under the multicolors of electric bolts swarming me my pecs began to grow. They grew outward and pronounced, tightening the space between them where my breastbone lay. The muscle then stretched down to my flat torso and began contorting. My stomach bulge quickly pulled into my body as my abs flattened then strengthened into a chiseled washboard of an eight-pack. There my skin began to tan itself. It wrapped over my paler torso and ass cheeks giving me a solid golden color over my body. More sparks started shooting out of the crystals as I looked up at my biceps, fear now leaving my mind, replaced by curiosity. They too were growing, contorting and lengthening. As muscle wrapped and pumped up my arms, tightened lines of muscle and skin began to define every crevice. I was starting to like this! Lifting them up to admire them, I began laughing as hair grew within my arm pits and up over my biceps and lower arms, thinly at first, then thickening to a masculine warrior. I would have never imagined laughing at such an experience, but the more my muscle grew, the more I wanted it and it was actually becoming true! Lowering my arms, the crevices that formed my washboard abs began to define my pelvis as my thighs began to grow. Thick, hard muscle wrapped and grew down my legs blowing them up like a pole vaulter's. The muscle defining across my hips tightened and created a cut V. I drew a finger along my new crevice. Looking over to Tyler all I could see through the sparking powers of electricity was a shocked and worried guy. I shouted to him, “Can you fuckin believe this?! Yes, this feels good. Hahaha!” Was I getting cocky? But who wouldn't? My ass started to quiver and shake, turning I saw it pumped out as rock hard muscle began building and pulling a tight, strong ass to match my legs. My back cracked as it stretched and grew. My arms flailing involuntarily as my shoulders doubled it's muscle mass and widened. The side of my ass checks locked in and chiseled out as it pulled against my body. As my rock hard bubble butt formed, my feet, ankles and shins grew in length and width as muscle continued to envelop over my growing frame, new countors of sinew defining every immaculate piece of my body. I smacked my ass cheeks as I turned back around, the ceremony was working! Suddenly a huge weight increase hit my package. I grabbed it, almost out of natural reaction, and felt it growing too. A large pulse of sex adrenaline hit me as my cock filled with blood and drooped down as my balls began growing in size. I removed my hands, I had to see this incredible moment. As if my balls were getting too big for its sac, it too began to grow and drop down to handle the weight of them. My cock turned to the left before growing back out, a new foreskin growing into its natural state. I continued to laugh. The feeling of my growing and powerful body only continued to get better. I looked again at Tyler, “Yea! Yeaheaa! THIS is what I'm talkin' about!” pointing down to my swinging, sex-ridden package. Tyler finally spoke up, shocked at the transformation happening before him. “Woah, Max, dude! What's happening to you?” I was no longer listening. I couldn't listen, the powers enveloping me were becoming too much for my human mind to handle, Tyler's voice drifted as I looked down and found I was quickly dwarfing him. Hair grew up through my pubes thickening them as they grew up over my belly button, chest and down across my ass. Then the hair grew like a forest over my shins and thighs. But my attention quickly moved away from my body as thoughts of powers borrowed into my mind. Powers? Yes, that's what I was now gaining! I couldn't believe it! Only minutes before I was embarrassed by my naked body and now I wanted nothing else. Being naked felt free and inviting for the powers of this altar to enter my body. What were these powers doing to me? What was I becoming? I kept thinking they must...they must have given warriors the strength of the mythological gods! No, no it was even better! I was becoming one! A god! An ancient greek god full of the abilities, powers and vices that we mortals had long forgotten about. “AHH Haha!” I continued to laugh as I gained the knowledge of this, drunk with the power of the immortals, drunk with the thought of elevating above my formal, mortal self. My muscles continued to lock in and grow. I was becoming an immortal. An immortal! I couldn't believe it. This altar was everything I hoped for. “Yes! YEEEEESSSSSSSSS!” I shouted, my voice becoming deeper with each second. “AH HAHAHA!” As the transformation continued, all the crystals illuminated and bestowed me with powers of transformation, immorality, the power to control other people and read their minds. A god, yes, I was becoming a god and I loved every second of it. The last of my human flesh, any imperfect part disappeared off of my now sculpted body. My package hung large among the rest of my immortal muscle. As the last of the crystal's powers were integrating into my body, I could feel the tight muscle growth slow to a standstill. Moving my hands up to cover my face, I felt it shift into a pronounced, thin, powerful face of a diety. Though I couldn't see my reflection, I knew its transformation gave the look of handsomeness and power. My hair shortened to a dark brown, matching the chest and arm hair that had grown earlier. My eyes opened to a glowing red, just as the drawings depicted. The crystal sparks ended, leaving nothing but a masculine, sharp immortal full of power. I was so full of these thoughts and knowledge of new powers I was having trouble keeping them in order. Was I given the powers of Metis or Heracles? Or, even more importantly: did it matter? All I knew was that I had the powers, the body, and was proud of what had happened. Like the mythological gods before me I intended to remain naked and use my bestowed powers to their fullest. Transformation? Manipulation? Trickery? Sex? I could think of little else. I stepped down from the altar. Looking down I couldn't help but admire my muscular and cut body, a thin layer of dark hair resting over my chest and abs. I looked further down to still see the growth very much apparent in my package and quads too. Tyler, not knowing the powers that bestowed me, walked over to me. I regained my stature and felt the powers coursing through me. For all my life I envied those with bigger bodies than I. But now I was a cut monster! A finely tuned and tight machine. I was no longer afraid or embarrassed by my nudity. No, I loved it. I was the hottest shit around. Tyler stared at me with awe and wonder. “My first worshiper,” I told myself, and I positioned myself in full view of him. “What do you think of me?” I asked, commanding an answer. “Uhh,” Tyler was completely hypnotized, he was infatuated with my body. I flexed my arms for him and crunched my abs. There was so much complexity in my build he couldn't get enough. Wanting to show my strength I walked over to a stalactite away from the altar and grabbed it with my right hand. “An easy feat,” I said, snapping the 8 foot rock off the side of the cavern. The rock weighed hundreds of pounds, but I easily twirled it around in my hands, feeling the energy surge through my body as I pumped the rock like a twig in a playground. “So much strength...” Tyler said, staring at me. “You want it?” I answered, preparing to throw the rock to him. I smiled and prepared a greek shot put throw, but as it flew into the air I ordered it to dissolve, merging back into the cavern wall once more. Tyler flinched in fear, but relaxed knowing I meant him no real harm. Eyeing my mortal friend once again I stretched my arm and beckoned him closer. “See what it feels like to be a warrior,” and I brought his hand close to my chest, touching my pecs. Tyler encountered flashes of my immortal powers, visioning a brief glimpse of my abilities. “Mmm...” he said orgasmicly as he bent his back, allowing his dick to lift from within his gym shorts. “I want it. I WANT IT” he shouted, dropping to his knees, kissing my hairy quads, trying to lift his mouth to my dick as his hands grabbed my rock-hard ass. With an invisible force I pushed the mortal back, Tyler sliding across the cave floor. “Mortals,” I said, smirking. “You have no idea what it's like, do you?” Tyler looking confused, wondering why I rejected him. “Yes, these powers, I can do anything now!” I answered. “No more need for clothes, for conformity. I am a god and all will obey my will.” Tyler stood again and bowed to me. “What do you wish of me master?” he said. The human was in a complete state of worship. I snapped my fingers to release him from his trance. “Tyler, you may think I am a pure god, but it is still me. Max. Maximus, the Immortal!” I flexed my biceps once again and forced a bright, immortal light to show my godly self. Levitating into the air Tyler smiled and walked more casually back to me, out of his trance. “Can I join you, Maximus? Can I join you through the ritual?” I smiled back to him and turned, opening the path to the shrine of the gods for my friend. “I may have gone first, my friend, but you have the altar to yourself now,” I said, levitating myself back to the ground. “Holy shit, this thing really fuckin works,” Tyler said turning his attention to the altar; he carried his shirt to the offering table before dropping it on the cold stone. “Dude, I can't fuckin wait, excuse the boner,” he said, stepping out of his flip flops and dropping his shorts and briefs in one push. “Mmm, this air feels perfect!” he shouts, letting his erection swag in the open. As Tyler stepped up to the transformation table he turned and asked me, “what it is like? To be you?” I thought for a moment. “Everything is different now. I no longer feel pain, emotions. I'm confident, assured, my mind is beset with the powers I gained and my new purpose is to use them to the fullest. I feel equal part human and immortal. It feels like I am power. Pure power.” I spoke with such authority and surety I thought I had created my own prophecy. My own future. “Join me, human.” Tyler's smile widened, “woah oh,” he said, “I can't wait to join you. What shall I be called?” “Tiberius,” I said. Tyler quickly answered, “Tiberius the Immortal.” Tyler turned back to the Warrior image in front of him, and laid his hand in confidence on the painting, the crystals aggressively illuminating over his naked body.

Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part VII Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6120-umpires-part-one-by-freaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6180-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-ii/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6488-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-iii/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6562-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-iv/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6563-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-v/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6599-umpires-by-freaky-part-vi/ The college was in a major uproar. Two of its students had grown into life size representations of the Incredible Hulk and we hell bent on revenge, terror, and achieving the Hulk's maximum size as shown in the Ang Lee version of the movies. Indeed they were well on their way towards that goal, already having found a few more people who had been enhanced by the "Strangwich Strangers": Sebastian Knight, Mason Fletcher, Zachary Woode, Brook Wells, and Connor Rabbits. The group now also included Callum Addams who, according the Great Booke of the Family, and the legend it had inscribed in it, was to have a power to protect the six of them from the descendant of their great-great-great-great-great...one gets the picture - grandfathers' enemy, Mr. Slump. That descendant was here, a Mr. Henri Marasme, who had taken on a friend an accomplice, the former Brandon Brockman - former star quarterback and captain of the college's football team, now turned hulking brute. And the two brutes were growing by the minute. After their encounter with Sebastian and Mason in the gymnasium, Henri and Brandon left the building and decided to canvas the college quad and all its many paths. They had found what they were looking for and as such had continued to grow up and out, up and out, in height, width, and muscular size and strength, as well as endowment of their genitalia. In fact both men had now grown to be about twelve feet tall, looking like Tony Romano in his old Pepsi commercial where they had double him in size, except they had not one stitch of clothing on their bodies, the last of it torn away when the men they came across had been blessed by the strangers with increased cock and ball size. The two behemoths penises and testicles had swelled and grown that the near thong like strips of fabric that held them in place simply popped and their peckers and balls hung and swung free like a clock pendulum. Brandon had the ability to help sense those who were blessed and he had all too easily fallen into a pattern of finding them, letting Henri decide if all their gift was his, or nodding or winking at Brandon, who then eagerly backed his butt towards Henri's pole, allowing Henri to penetrate him and thus give Brandon the gifts siphoned off, whenever Henri used his power word. So now there they were two massive twelve foot tall bodybuilders, endowed larger, even proportionately, than any male star in the porno industry, traipsing around the by-ways of the campus, the muscles glistening with sweat in the bright sunlight, their cocks swinging to and fro, over and from one thigh to the other. This caused quite the commotion on campus as panic became the emotion of the day. This in turn made it perhaps a little better for the Strangers as it meant Henri and Brandon became preoccupied with #1 all the students scurrying across their path, some of whom were blessed by the Strangers and thus had gifts to steal, and #2 the campus and city police, who also had a couple of men who were blessed by the strangers and thus fueled the belief that the two hulking high-towers had the ability to suck physical attributes from any man alive. Throughout the day the sextet of men played dodge the bulks boys, attempting to figure out what to do. Panic and fear had tried to settle into most of their hearts after seeing the site of their two biggest members reduced to thin, milk-sop men of just five foot six inches tall that barely had enough muscle on them to be able to pick up their clothes let alone a set of weights. Things were even worse towards the end of the day. They had discovered that Henri and Brandon had gone to the buildings where Mason, Zachary, and Connor's dorm rooms were, as well as in town where Zachary's apartment was. Once all of the boys were there in Callum's dorm room, Callum had commented that it was known by some he was hanging around with the original five now, and although it would take some time, it wouldn't take long until they had figured out who he was and where his dorm room was located. After much worry and discussion they decided they for the now hunker down in Callum's dorm room, waiting to see how long they had, and in that time try to figure out what they and Callum were to do. To do that, however, they would need the Great Booke of the Family. Connor being on the track team and the fastest of any of the, Sebastian gave him the key to his ancestral home and sent him to run and grab it and come back. However, on his return, Connor showed up drenched in sweat, limping, and with a battered face. "Connor! What happened?" cried Callum after he opened his door and Connor slumped into the room and collapsed upon a bed. "They caught me.... briefly...." "What?!" bellowed Sebastian. "Are you okay? The Booke? Did they get the book?" "No... it's there in my back pack. I was back on the campus section of the paths, the one that runs by the theater building. Henri and Brandon had apparently been stomping around all of the paths looking for the one that leads towards your home, Sebastian. Henri knows about your home, all of our homes." "So what happened to you and your face?" asked Callum as he sat down next to Connor. "They...they had managed to spot me, and one went and cut me off further down the path. Henri stood there looking at me, while Brandon came up behind and slapped my back. I went down hard. While I was lying there, Henri said his magic word, and you were right on that, Callum, it was, 'sump.' He said it a few times, but then he allowed Brandon to sit on his dick, he said his power word a few more times, but with them connected, it left a side of me open, so I jumped up and ran into the one wooded area where the trees would at least slow them down.... That's slow them down. They're big enough now to take down some trees from saplings up to about fifteen years old! "Anyway... I doubled back around, but my feet had now become so small, my shoes slipped off, and I trouble knowing how to walk let alone run with my smaller feet. In the wooded area, the trees kept me upright, but once back out on the path, if I tripped, I fell, and one time I fell and couldn't get my hands out in time to catch myself. I performed a perfect ten face plant." Everyone looked down at Connor's feet and it was true, where once, even for a 6' 1" tall man, he had these semi-enormous size US 16 feet, he now had something that came in closer to a size ten, maybe ten and half. Sebastian broke the silence. "We need time to think. We need time to decipher. We need to move. They will search this campus until they find us." "But, love..." said Mason. "How will we find time to think and plan? Callum has no idea what his power word is, nor what his ability is and how that will save us. It won't take that long to search all of the dormitories, especially at their size. Even if we move, it won't take long to figure out where a group of six men are going." "Unless they think we've broken up and are heading out of town." "What?" asked the original five men and Callum continued on his statement. "Connor, did anyone see you come into this dorm?" "No. Why?" "Henri and Brandon don't know that you were headed to my dorm room, so let's set up a scenario for those two to discover. Bast, Mason, Zach, Brook, and I will head out now and make a run for my van in the parking lot. Guys, grab as many of the food supplies and such that we have here, and wrap them in the sheets and such for my bed. Connor, you will leave from here, out the back door of the dormitory about five to ten minutes after we have pulled out of the parking lot. Run back around some of the other buildings and approach this one from the front. Come in, run up here to this room, knock, then back downstairs and outside. Once out the front door, stop, do a worry kind of double take like you're not sure which direction to go and then take the path that leads to main bus stop that boarders both the school grounds and the town. We will meet you there with the van." Zachary leaned forward. "Alright, that makes it look like we took off without Connor, which is good in one aspect, but we have no-where to go. Those two were walking the paths looking for Bast's house." "Yes, and he knows where it and your guys' ancestral homes are, he's just not sure what paths are the route to them. He doesn't yet know me, even if he becomes aware of me, he won't be able to find out... .... .... I have a cabin out in that area as well...but in a slightly opposite direction." Darting looks of doubt and then approval at one another, the original five agreed to the plan and put it into action. Later they would find out that just three hours later, Henri & Brandon had discovered Callum had been hanging with the Strangers and the two had gone to investigate Callum's dorm room. Once at the cabin, Callum pulled his van in between two rows of wisteria and Cyprus trees effectively hiding it. Then inside he began to give out instructions. "Zach, Brook, you two go around and take these black out cloths and tack them over the windows and their curtains. Connor, you sit here and ice down your face. Bast, Mason, place all of the food items on the kitchen table, then take the sheets and make the beds up in the bedrooms. There'll be extra sheets and pillows in the hall closet if you need it. I'll put the food away and make some pitchers of tea for us to have. Whomever is done with their first task, get with someone and move the tables and other extra furniture between the front door and the wall forming as solid a line as you can. I know it won't hold them, but at least it'll be better than just the door and a deadbolt. Also, don't start a fire if you get too cold, use the heaters." The guys did as they were told and accomplished the tasks set before them, and then sat about the living room, trying to figure out what to do next in dim candle and heater light. Callum had been sitting with the Great Booke for most of the evening. Sebastian finally turned after a few hours asked the question on everyone's mind. "Have you figured out your power word yet, or what kind of power it triggers, Callum?" "No....it just mentions how it's supposed to save us, but doesn't tell us how. I'm not sure at all. The only thing I have figured out is I will have to do it soon or you'll all be stuck." "What do you mean?" "Further reading it says if he manages to get you shrunk down past five foot, that's it, you lose your abilities. Now other members of the family can still help bring them back, but if, or when all of you are shrunk down past five feet, that's it. That's all of it. You've all lost your gifts for good and four foot whatever will be your height and skinny-scrawny will be your build for the rest of your life, and it will not ever be restored to the family again." "That... that..... that just sucks!" said Brook, and he stormed off into a bedroom. With glances across the room to one another, everyone pretty much agreed to do the same: head off to bed. Zachary and Brook went to one room and held each other for comfort, hoping to try and fall asleep, but fear kept them awake. Sebastian and Mason went to another room, out of habit but not out of wanting to be with each other. They lie next to one another with a greater fear, that their new appearance wouldn't be appealing to the other man. Connor went to last bedroom, while Callum remained out in the living room still pondering what he was supposed to do. About an hour had passed when Connor came back into the living room, a sheet draped over his body about as Greek toga style as he could get without any chords to hold it in place. Sitting down next to Callum, he leaned in and whispered a soft, "hey." Callum looked over to Connor and smiled, "Hey, yourself." "Why don't you come to a nice soft bed to sleep? Can't relax and then think well sleeping on a hard, cabin couch." "Well," blushed Callum. "The bedrooms are uhmmm....full." "Are you that prudish, or do you not want me that my feet are small and ugly?" "What? No.... Connor, your feet may be smaller, but they're not ugly, and ... uhm.... you know... I'm developing feelings for you more because of who you are than the size of your feet. I mean, yeah, I liked your big feet, I like big everything, but I know enough to not let some paragon, fantasy image that no man... well, save for Henri and Brandon now, could ever live up to. I'm certainly not going to fall in love with them just because they're huge and hulking; they're assholes!" Connor cracked a smile. "How 'bout coming back there and showing me how much of my personality you like?" "No..." smirked Callum..."I think I'll show you right here." Callum leaned around and kissed Connor full on the lips and then began to wind his hands through the sheet until he had it half way off and one hand was firmly grasping Connor's cock, rubbing its head. Connor in the meantime had wound his hands around Callum, eventually ending up at the front of Callum's waist band and undoing Callum's belt. A mere few minutes later and both Callum's underpants, shirt, and socks were off and discarded on the floor next to the couch. In the first bedroom Sebastian and Mason began to have the same conversation. "What's that noise?" asked Mason. "It's the springs and joints of a couch." "Springs and joints of a couch?" "Yeah... Connor and Callum are getting it on. They really are kind of cute together. Track man and semi athletic-nerd boy." "He would be much bigger if he could be." "How would you know?" "We actually took over the master, what he's been using whenever he sleeps here. There are dozens of muscle mags and workout routines over here." Sebastian rolled over... quick and hard. "Looking for your next boyfriend?" "What? No... why?" "Sure you'd stay with a mighty midget like me?" "Bast! How could you say that? I like you because of you...who you are... your personality. I don't care that you lost your muscle size... other than the fact I know you like it. Geeze man, all of us in our group are fuckin' size freaks. But, I love you for you... besides, the smaller guys look like they build muscles better. You might look even hotter. The question is do mind a short basket ball player?" Sebastian rolled back over quickly and on top of Mason. "If we're going to be turned into diminutive bunnies... let's fuck like rabbits!" "But... I don't know how Mom and Dad made Connor." "Smart ass..." and Sebastian leaned in an kissed Mason after smacking him in the head with a pillow. In the next bedroom Zachary and Brook were still holding each other, wide awake, trembling slightly in fear of what may happen to them any day, hour, minute from now. Both of them whispering from time to time things like, "I'm glad you're with me.", or "I will always love you, no matter what happens." This is turn gave way to one patting the other's side or back for comfort, which then turned into reaffirming, warm-up-take-away-the-shivers strokes, which eventually turned into body caresses, followed by kissing and groping. Meanwhile in the living room, Callum was positioning himself on top of Connor's prick. One inside, Callum began to bounce while Connor began to buck, and both would reach and caress and kiss one another. Both men were working themselves into a pretty good frenzy of sexual excitement and energy when Connor finally stopped for a moment and said... "In case we wind up stripped of our abilities, I want you to at least experience once what we go through when we add it to our love making." "What, you're going to chant your word? Won't that alert Henri to where we are? Won't he feel that power?" "Yeah, possible, but at least you'll know what I was going all spaz on you and collapsed that night you caught me. You ready?" "Hmmmm huh... yeah..." "oooh okay... here goes.... .... thump!" "Hooooooooooooo-oh!" *************************************************************** "Oh fuck!" "Ah-HA!" *************************************************************** "Ooooh...hmmmm...Zach-AH-REEEEE!!" "Broo-HOOK!" ************************************************************* "Oh my gawd....Connor...that ....huh....that...huh...was...so....intense...." "Yeah... you should feel it when all of us say it.... THUMP!" "AAAAUUUUH!" ************************************************************** "ah-HOO! Mother fuckers!" "UUUUGHJEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZOH! Someone is using their power word!" ***************************************************************** "OH! Someone is using their power word... that fuck...putting us in jeo-PARDY!" "Oh ... huh...but... huooooommmmmmmmmmmm I LOVE when we DO this...." ***************************************************************** Callum was trembling fiercely. He couldn't hold on to Connor. He couldn't hold onto the couch. He wasn't sure his toes would ever curl out straight again, or that his bottom lip would ever come out from under his upper teeth. Connor was feeling the same way and was near to ripping one couch cushion while etching nail marks into the hard wood floor. The two were still riding and bucking when the doors to both bedrooms opened and after stopping and looking at one another, Sebastian, Mason, Zachary, and Brook grabbed their mattresses and brought them out to the living room. Plopping them down a few feet in front of the couch, Sebastian broke the tension and confusion as he addressed Connor and Callum. "Men, if we're going to do this and possibly be our own downfall, then let's do this in the biggest way possible." Forcing, Connor and Callum off the couch, they pulled the cushions off the couch and filled in the spot on the floor in front of the couch. Then Sebastian turned Mason around and rammed his rod into Mason. Mason in turn had Zachary knelt down and he placed his rod into Zach's crack. Zach in turn filled his lover, Brook's ass, while Brook turned and rammed into Connor, Connor re-established a firm hold inside of Callum, and Callum somewhat shocked at this looseness of morals, freedom of sexuality, whatever it was...turn and thrust his cock right up Sebastian. The rocking and rolling began with each man groaning and moaning in pleasure....until they finally spouted out their words. "pump" "auugh", "oooh", "fuck", "hmmmmnf", "shit", "damn".... .... ... "ahhhh-huh-heeeee.... uh....Trump" "damn", "hmmmmnf", "auugh", "fuck", "shit", "oooh",.... .... ... "aaaaiiieee ...ah...ah...huh...ah....hump" "auugh", "aahh", "shit", "hmmmmnf", "son of a", "oh hell".... .... ... "oh...oh...oh...oh...oh....oh...ooooooh......plump" "hagggggrrrrk", "fuckwad", "ah-shit", "huaaaahhhh", "pecker", "My-eeeeee".... .... ... "ahhh ha-huh-ha-huh....huh...huh....huh..... thump" "auugh", "oooh", "fuck", "hmmmmnf", "shit", "damn".... .... ... "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" Round and round the men went chanting their words as they writhed in their sexual orgy, their bodies contorting and straining like six men suffering from the worst orgasm spasms ever experienced by mankind. Eventually one of them broke the rythym stating, more like moaning... "I'm not sure what Callum's power does, but I think it definitely brought us together." The other men laughed, but Callum suddenly went rigid and croaked out breathlessly..."That's it." "What?" was the collective word uttered, followed by Connor asking tiredly, "Baby, are you alright?" "The book... the Great Booke of the Family... it didn't say my power would save us... it said I would bring us together..." "Hon, you need to relax and stop thinking about it..." Sebastian spoke out, "Let's keep chanting, he'll have to join in on it, whether he wants to or not." But Callum was already busy chanting... in his mind...and in an extremely low whisper, "their words are: pump, trump, hump, plump, thump, sump...I'm to bring them together..." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "a-ump?" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "bump...cump...dump...." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "fump...frump....gump...grump...." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "LUMP!" Collective the men all screamed the must guttural, primal scream that anyone has ever heard as the all arched their backs back in this orgasmic oval of passion. They felt the power like never before shooting out their cocks, up into their ass, spreading out through their bodies, their arms and legs, their face, nose, hair, the fingers and toes, the last two curling in so badly it looked as though their arches and palms would do the same. Eventually Sebastian started it again... "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump!" Cried out Callum out once more. Again the feeling shot through them like a bolt of electricity, like they merely weren't experiencing a stroke, but blowing their full wad in a one second power spurt. "AH!....huh....FUCK!....huh....THAT'S....huh....THE....huh.....TICKET!...." cried out Mason. "Sebastian...huh....love... again..." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "AUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" the men all collectively moaned loud and then dissipating into a low whisper. This time though their fortitude wasn't holding out as well and each on dropped to one knee. But Sebastian knew they had found something and it had to be carried through until the end. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Round and round they chanted until suddenly, Connor cried out..."My feet! My feet have grown... they're growing! They're...they're back to their old size!" Callum looked down to see his lover's feet, one of which was next to his. He realized Connor's feet had indeed grown back to its original size sixteen, but something else had happened too... "My feet are the same size as Connor's!" "What?" cried the other five men as they all looked down and realized all of their feet had been growing and all of them were now the proud owners of feet built for a size sixteen shoe. "Awwwww damn! That's sexy." said Callum. "Bast.... let's keep it up." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Soon, Sebastian and Mason began to grow taller and taller... 5' 7"....5' 8"....5' 9".... 5' 10" as tall as Zachary.... now they meeting Callum's height of 5' 11" tall, but so was Zachary. They kept on growing... and Callum joined them. 6'.... 6' 1" Now those four were as tall as Connor. 6' 2".....6' 3"....now standing at Sebastian's original height, with Connor having joined in, and the men kept growing on up to 6' 4" - the same height as Brook. Yet as they kept chanting and chanting they grew...grew...6' 5".... 6' 6".... 6' 7".... 6' 8"! They were now as tall as Mason had been and it seemed that for that moment they stopped growing taller. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" As they kept chanting, groping, feeling, caressing, screwing, kissing, they began to feel their bodies changing, rolling, bunching, flexing, swelling, popping, thickening, broadening, becoming tauter, fuller, denser, stronger, thicker, harder. Their muscles were growing...getting bigger and bigger until soon they were proportionately the same size as Sebastian was originally. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "AwwwwwwwwwwwffffffffffFUCK!" cried out Zachary. "THE POWER!" The men began to shift and rock... each one feeling their cocks becoming longer and longer, thicker, firmer, harder, their partner's filling their ass deeper, wider. Then their balls began to get larger, rounder, firmer, fuller... each one feeling as their scrotums got heavier and heavier, threatening to hang lower and lower from their crotch. Making their partner feel that more and more there was a cushion of some sort being placed between them and pressing their ass. They could feel these man globes whirl and swirl with more and more cum, making their testies feel even heavier than mere moments before. "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Then they began to grow even further...all together...six formidably large men becoming even larger, greater, stronger, turning into mass monsters. Their muscles grew in size and shape. The shoulders broadened wider and wider becoming as wide as a wall. Their arms inflated and grew becoming larger than their own heads, fighting the lats and back for room to hang an move. The biceps and triceps rose and grew out larger, thicker, fuller, more defined, until their arm looked nearly square and as and as big around as a tire...a tractor tire....a boulder.... a globe on top of a skyscraper. Until the biceps head split into two and began to peak higher and higher, fuller, rounder, more defined deeper cuts. Eventually the arms snapping and breaking, reforming and reshaping longer and thicker to hold the amount of muscle they were carrying. Their delts and chest joined in the inflation and expansion as well, rounding and mounding higher and thicker. The delts looking like ball bearings for some kind of massive machine and getting larger by the minute. Their chest continued to shelf and expand larger, fuller, rounder, threatening to grow wider than their backs, than their shoulders. It did completely obscure their own lower portion of their bodies. They couldn't look down to see anything of their abs, thighs, calves, or feet. Their nipples rolled down, down, down until they nearly were turned back under the pectoral muscles themselves, the chest was so swoll with strength and power. Their asses bubbled out more and more, fuller, rounder, thicker, harder, as their cocks continued to grow and thicken, lengthen and harder, become even fuller in girth. All while the balls continued their insane filling and inflating, threatening to cause their legs to split apart even more than their burgeoning thigh muscles which had begun bunching and swelling after the buttocks. The thighs kept increasing in shape and form become so large it seemed almost impossible for them to taper at all at the waist or the knees to rejoin the body. Massive teardrops just suspended under the crotch somehow. The calves and the forearms had also grown in thickness and size. Both threatening to become nearly as large as their bigger companions, the thighs and upper arms. Meanwhile underneath all of this, their feet had grown long and wide become really large, even for their height in order to give a good, strong, foundation for the exceptionally tall frame and impossibly large amount of muscles that frame carried. They became thick, muscular, manly, but yet smooth, defined, trimmed and clean nails. And then the veins began to rise up near the surface of the skin. Even if they had lost all their musculature, their veins would still be there, all full and plump full of life and energy giving blood, providing the nutrients for more and more growth. They spread up the calves, over the knees, around the thighs, up the crotch, across the abs, mounting the pecs, cresting the delts and enveloping the neck as grew into a super thick column of marble muscle, before they continued to roll and cascade down the upper arms, forearms, and thick muscular palms and fingers of men who tossed tons of weight around. And as these vessels appeared and criss-crossed their bodies, they began to sprout out hair...mainly, thick, hair that even they could run their finger tips through. Around the ankles, up the shins and calves, over the knees, around the thighs, creating a huge dense bush at the crotch from which their cocks now rose like mighty sequoias. Up the abs the fantastic fur ran, over the chest, engulfing the nips, skipping the butt, back, delts, but continuing again on the upper arms, under the pits, over the forearms, and slightly on the back of the palms and the fingers. Finally the hair was triggered on their jaw lines coming in like a five o'clock shadow...by 9 a.m.! Then their hair grew out on top, cascading down their head until hitting the shoulders. But still despite their size, their strength, they were in the throes of constantly reaching a climax, of reaching that full orgasm that threatened to flood the cabin, and they were still writhing in ecstasy and growing as they chanted more and more.... "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" Their vision rising up higher and higher. Their feet stretching out longer and longer, moving furniture out of the way, or lifting it up on their own! Their bodies spreading out wider and taller, taking up all the space in the living room, pressing in the walls, pressing in against each other. They were becoming so big, it was becoming more and more difficult for them to gyrate, buck, and hump their partners in order to achieve climax. They could hear the floor and side boards creak, their vision now rested above the two story high ceiling beams of the cabin. They were pressed into each corner and center of the room, having no room to breathe let alone move. Then they heard it.... "I know you're in there! I don't know who this Callum Addams is, but it's no use hiding in his cabin. Callum, let the five come out and I won't hurt you. You might as well come out and get it over with. Brandon and I can easily break through the walls, let alone the doors of this cabin, so we can come in a get you at any point. It's useless to resist. He's around the back, and I'm here out front. Don't know why you would choose to resist. So, come on guys.... what do you say?" Shifting their head in the eaves to look at one another, they gave each other a nod and then back to Sebastian. "What do we have to say?" Sebastian whispered to his friends. "I know what we have to say..." "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump" "Pump" "Trump" "Hump" "Plump" "Thump" "Lump"

Hey all! Here is the next part, with some actual growth! I'm working on a little side chapter at the moment, and I'll add it here when it's done, so check back regularly! Also, once again, don't hesitate to reply or offer feedback or any of that shit. I can't improve if no-one tells me I suck! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Wait, what do you mean you won’t? I’d love to be as big, as strong as you. What’s the problem?” Nate just sighed, and leaned back in his groaning chair. “Alex, you talk too much. You know that, right?” Alex just stood there, a look of dumbfounded worry on his face, like he just realised he stepped in some dog shit and tracked it through the house. “Oh shit, man. I thought he already knew everything already. Were you going to explain…?” “Ah… I’ve been putting it off. I should have been honest from the start.” Nate leaned forward and again focused his attention on Mick. He folded his arms, causing the muscles on his arms to bulge to near inhuman levels. Mick could only sit there, staring at them. “Mate, I think we should keep talking about this in the back room. I think we’re going to want the privacy.” “Privacy? What, you mean without me?” “Yes, Alex. Without you. We don’t want to ruin that lovely dress, do we? Besides, I just finished up your dinner.” Nate jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen, where the pot was slowly simmering away on the stovetop. “Oh, sweet! I always love your cooking! You did put your…?” “Yeah, I added my ‘special ingredient’. It’s ready to go.” With that, Alex spun on his heels, and headed to the kitchen. As he was dishing himself up a big bowlful of that strangely smelling pasta, Nate gave Mick a tap on the shoulder, and then headed down the hall. Mick dutifully followed, mesmerised by the writhing mass of muscle that was Nate’s ass contained in those flimsy briefs. “So.” Nate sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, and motioned for Mick to take a seat next to him. “That first night we met. What do you remember?” “What do you mean? I remember the station, and the meal, and…” “No, no, I mean after that. Do you remember when you first walked in here? What you saw… me do?” “I… don’t know what you mean. But it’s odd. My memory… It’s like it was a dream. We walked in. You went down the hall… then there was this smell. And then, nothing until I woke up without my pants on the mattress.” Again, Nate took a look at Mick, shrugged his mountainous shoulders and stood up. “I was worried about this. It looks like you blacked out after you saw me… lose control.” “Lose control? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” “…I think it’s time I showed you a bit of what I actually am.” With this, he bent over, and worked his underpants away from his crotch and down his mammoth legs. Mick recoiled at this. “Dude, the fuck are you doing?!” “I need to for what I’m about to show you. Well, I don’t strictly need to, but I go through these things so much anyway, I don’t want to ruin them needlessly.” As he straightened up, Mick couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the meat hanging in front of his face, despite his natural squeamishness. It was... beautiful. About a foot long, if not bigger. And as wide as his own forearm. It wasn’t cut, but he could still see the prominent bell end clearly through the skin. There was a small bush of brown pubes on top, as well a large vein that snaked its way across the top of the shaft. Mick was mesmerised. “Still there, mate?” Mick was suddenly aware he had been staring at Nate’s dick for a few seconds. “Yeah, yeah. Is… that what you wanted to show me?” “No. Not quite. I just want you to know, what you see may be a bit hard to believe. Just… prepare yourself, okay?” “Prepare myself? What are you talking… about… Christ…” Mick didn’t know what he was seeing. It looked like Nate was being magnified. As he watched, Nate’s muscles seemed to shift and pulse under his thin skin. And as they did, they grew. His arms grew thicker, and were shifting away from his center due a similarly engorging upper body. Then, there were deep cracking sounds emanating from within his body. It was Nate’s bones. They were shifting as well. Becoming thicker, harder and longer. They forced his head up towards the ceiling, while his muscles continued to expand in all directions. It honestly looked like Nate was turning into the Hulk, like from the movies. Only this wasn’t CGI. This was real flesh, pulsing and growing and causing the floor underneath to creak and groan as this new mass piled on from seemingly nowhere. And his face. It was always handsome before. But it was changing shape as well. His cheeks were becoming more prominent. His green eyes grew ever more intense. His face was becoming a thing of beauty. That scent was back. That rank, intoxicating aroma overwhelmed any other odour that may have been in the room. And it was pouring off Nate. For Mick, who was so close to all this change and primal sexuality, it was all too much. He was dimly aware that he had grown a massive stiffy, and now it had exploded in his pants, without any input from him. All just from experiencing what was happening right in front of his face. Then, it all seemed to slow. The writhing orgy of activity under Nate’s skin stilled, and the body parts rising above Mick’s head slowed as well. When Nate finally stopped shifting, Mick was at still sitting on the bed, looking straight at Nate’s knees. And the tip of that absolute monster of a dick. “I… holy shit, man… What the fuck…” “That isn’t all, mate. Not by a long shot.” Nate’s voice was so deep and powerful, Mick felt it like a sub-woofer more than he heard it. Then, some movement on Nate’s crotch drew Mick’s gaze back there. Something was moving around under the skin, forcing his dick to one side. And whatever it was, it was growing. It swelled, growing larger and larger, dangling lower and lower. It wasn’t until the skin broke on it, did Mick realise just what it was. It was a dick. Nate had just grown a second dick right in front of his eyes. This was insane. “You see, Mick? I’m more than just well built. I’m more than… human.” Mick was speechless. What he had just witnessed was not possible. Nate was well and truly beyond human dimensions now. He stood stooped, his head brushing the roof 3 metres off the ground. He had to weigh at least a ton. Everything about him was so extreme. It was like a dream. “Okay, I think you get it now. We should probably talk about things, and I don’t think we can do it properly when I’m like this.” Just like it started, the changes started to reverse themselves. Slowly but surely, the muscles seemed to fold into themselves. They shrunk down, and allowed his arms and legs to move closer to his torso. His bones grew smaller, and his head moved further away from the ceiling. In a matter of seconds, Nate was standing in front of Mick, the same large, though not impossible, size he was before. “Wha… what the fuck are you?” Nate just shrugged his mammoth shoulders, and sat down on the bed next to Mick. “If I ever do find out, you’ll be the first to know. All I know is one day, after a little help from a big guy, this happened.” Mick was suddenly aware of the damp patch growing cold in his pants, realising what his body had done without his input. Humiliated, he turned his sodden front to the side, keeping his head down and trying in vain to hide what had happened. He felt Nate’s hand caress his shoulder. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong. That tends to happen around guys like us. There’s no shame in it, you know.” Mick just sat there, trying desperately to just fade away into the background. His mind was consumed by embarrassment; by the feeling he had just ruined everything. Then, a slight but firm shaking, as Nate tried to rouse his attention. “Can you turn and face me, please?” “…” “Don’t worry. Honestly, I’m not put off by this. Frankly, it’s sort of a relief for me that you did react that way. “…” What you saw was way weird shit. You could have run out of the room, and never looked back. But you sat there, and withstood all that I showed you. And you stayed conscious this time too! So please, turn around. I want to look at those beautiful eyes of yours.” Slowly, Mick turned around. The dark patch on his jeans and lower shirt was very visible, despite Mick’s hands trying to cover it. Nick gently guided his face upwards with a single powerful index finger, until they were looking at each other, eye-to-eye. “There we go. You did great. You’re doing great. I mean it. What I did to you, that was no small thing.” “But…how?” “How…?” “Do you do… all that?” Mick gestured, splaying his arms apart like the expanding body he witnessed. “Honestly, I don’t know how it happens. All that biological stuff? Haven’t a clue how it happens. That’s not to say there’s no control. There’s plenty of that. I don’t want to sound too bragging, but I do know what I’m doing when I’m with a guy. No danger of any… accidents.” “Then… why not?” He grasped Nate’s hand, almost revelling in his touch. “Is it me? Don’t you want to be with me?” At this, Nate just had a deep chuckle, making the bed and his body shaking like there was an earth tremor. “It’s not a question of me wanting you, mate. The instant we met, I wanted to change you, to initiate you into all this. It’s like, an instinct or something, like you’re always starving or massively horny, or both at the same time. Believe me, if it were just a matter of me wanting it, you couldn’t stop me, literally. “What, you mean like holding me down and… raping me?” “Huh? No, not tha-… okay, that too. But there’s something else. Something… unusual I can do, to force myself on you.” “Wait, what else can you do? How can you force… me to… what is…” Mick was at a loss for words at what he was feeling. Everything felt good. Amazing! It felt like something was… rubbing him? Stroking him? His skin felt a million supple, sensuous hands massage and stimulate every part of his body it was possible to feel pleasure in! His shoulders, his back, his ass, everywhere. His head felt blissful, full of endorphins, full of… sex! Were he capable of conscious thought, he would have likened it to a wet dream, multiplied by ten, or more. Everything was building, getting more intense. And it seemed to be travelling down, towards his sodden crotch. His dick, having spent it’s load only minutes before, was raging hard again. He could feel it. He was going to explode this time! He was hanging on by a razor’s edge… Then, it suddenly stopped. The magic hands ceased. The euphoria subsided, and Mick was slowly floating back down to earth. “Jesus, man…” Mick said, panting slightly “What was that?” “That was me. Again. That was a mental trick we can do. It’s hard to explain what it is, so I thought I’d give you a demonstration. It’s what we call ‘tugging.’” “Tugging?” “Yeah. It’s another part of the package deal, as it were. We can turn it off and on, easy as a tap. And that’s related to why I didn’t want to change you… tonight.” “I don’t get it.” Nate just shook his head. “Everything I’ve shown you, all that crazy growing, the extra dick, the tugging? It’s only a fraction of what I’m capable of. If I’m not careful, I could damn near literally fuck your brains out. Overdose you on sex, so you can’t conceive of anything else. Render all rational thought useless around me. I can take away your free will, Mick. That is the danger here. “You… can do that?” “I can. And it has happened before. I’ve gone online and spoken with some of the guys who originally started this back in the States. Some of the ways they describe how they were changed, or how they changed others, it would be the literal definition of rape, if the law knew about what we could do. There was no consent. Only unwilling coercion. I refuse to let that happen. “So, you won’t change me, because…” “Because this is a permanent, life changing action. There is no undo button on all this. But don’t think that means I won’t ever, though. I want you to think about it first. Properly. Go home, and talk to your family about how you feel. If, after all that, you still want to join me and Alex and everyone else, I will happily show you the ropes.” “You will?” “I will.” Nate just sat there, naked and stroking Mick’s hair. “Again, if you have any questions or anything, you have my number. Call me at any time, seriously.” “I think I will. Thank you. For everything.” Mick leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around the gentle giant, though his arms couldn’t reach all the way around. Nate returned the gesture, encasing Mick in a loving embrace. They could have stayed in that position forever, but a blade of twilight sun breaking through the bottom of the blinds made Mick aware of how long he had stayed. “Ah shit, I’m gonna be an hour late home! I’ve got to run, man.” “No problem. Did you need any with your, erm…” He pointed to still prominent mark on his pant fronts. “Oh. Wait, it’s okay. I’ve got my work pants in my bag. I’ll be ok.” The two of them got up, and made their way to the front door. In a matter of seconds, Mick had changed pants, and was ready to go. “So, you gonna be alright getting home alone? It’s kinda late…” “I’ll be fine. We’re not exactly in Detroit, you know. I’ve done this before.” “Alright, just offering. Give me a ring if you need anything. Anything at all.” “Well, before I leave, I do have one… little request.” “Oh? What is it?” Mick grabbed hold of Nate’s massive traps, and pulled himself up to face level. After planting one small kiss on his cheek, he dropped down, and ran out the door. “Well, goodbye to you too, sweetie.” He said softly down the corridor, and gently closed the door. “Well that was fucking anticlimactic!” Nate spun around, and saw Alex, sitting in the middle of the mattress pile, rhythmically tapping his shoes on the hard floor. “Ah fuck, I did kind of ignore you, didn’t I?” “Kinda. But still, at least you gave me a meal. I do love your cooking.” “Ha! You don’t come for the cooking, you come for the ‘ingredients!’” As he said this, he waved his imposing cock from side to side, emphasising where he got the ‘cream’ for his pasta from. “To-may-to, to-mah-to, man, seriously. Besides, I do love it when you get all protective and caring over a small guy. I can be patient.” “I care about him, but I don’t think I’m protecting him. I want Mick to get all the facts, and make up his own mind. It’s the only right way to go about it.” “I dunno, his mind seemed pretty made up just then. You really think a couple of days, or a week will change it?” “If he does, cool. If he doesn’t, also cool. So long as he makes the decision.” “Whatever floats your boat, I guess.” Alex fiddled with his dress, trying to get it to sit more comfortably on his own bulk. “I should be off too, anyway. Rehearsal is in half an hour. The Cabaret calls to me!” “Some days I wonder why you even bother getting dressed up. You know what I think you look best in anyway.” “Unfortunately, my sweet, my passion for the arts trumps my more base desires.” As he got up and sauntered out the door, he planted his own lips on Nate’s, and shared a deep kiss. “Though, that’s not to say there isn’t room for fun afterwards. Don’t wait up!” As the Hulk in Drag waltzed out the door and down toward the lobby, Nate just stood there. As he shut the door, he smirked a little as he thought to himself: “My life has gotten so weird!”

For you who like army experiments and science-fiction techno-lingo just as much as I do (but as far as I can remember, there is not yet any need to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow). This continuation could probably need more proof-reading, but here goes. Dr. Skrefsrud, the timid Norwegian, is still the narrator. That may change in following chapters. Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5059-project-defender-–-chapter-one/ DISCLAIMER The following story do contain a small amount of racial slur and homophobia, a small amount of violence and sexual innuendo. Please do not read further if you are offended by anything of the aforementioned. The author does not sympathize with what the antagonist in the story may do or say. Project Defender – Chapter Two We kept Jones and Bjarnarsson for observation at Infirmary overnight, and Green agreed to take the night watch. Their results in the Gym had been impressing. They lifted amounts of weight probably no other living man on the planet was able to lift. Restoring a barbell to its stand, Jones looked at Smith and László part cockily, part beaming. Bjarnarsson lumbered around after the exercises with a smile, but was able to restrain his reaction to a larger extent than Jones. All samples looked more than perfect, so we let them eat breakfast at the Mess with the others. Jones and Bjarnarsson were greeted by cheers in the Mess, and during the following meals, I found the atmosphere less hostile against our scientific team. The nicknames used by Jones began to spread among the crew, which probably was a sign of acceptance. Some of the men stared at Jones and Bjarnarsson. ’Nice of y’u ter let us leave de ozzy. Ah feel ready ter hit the iron at the gym aftah brekkie.’, Jones informed us. ’Hey, Viking Guy!’, shouted Varga – a 33 year old Hungarian test subject – ’Can you assure us, that your experiment will not shrink our balls? I want to keep mine intact!’ The men at Varga’s table laughed. ’It is rather Gospodinov’s area of expertise, but as far as I understand, the formula doesn’t replace your own production of hormones, but increases it. Why don’t you ask Jones or Bjarnarsson, if you dare?’ I smiled. Varga’s table roared with laughter. I put down my tray besides the nice Poles, Zielinski and Kowalski, and sat down. Kowalski stared impressed on Jones and Bjarnarsson. Zielinski and Kowalski were eating their egg white omelette with spinach. I had a bowl of porridge. I chatted with the friendly and polite Poles until, suddenly, a loud quarrel disrupted our concentration. It was De Vries, one of the Dutchmen, and Taylor, the Caribbean-British test-subject, who quarrelled. By the look of it, it seemed that De Vries had bumped into Taylor. The latter’s breakfast lay at the floor. ’Watch where you’re going, monkeyboy! I thought this was a project for Europeans? Who let the apes out of the cage? My granddad didn’t leave South Africa for the Old Country for this, I can assure you.’ The initially calm Taylor froze rigidly, and his gaze changed into a burning mode. The Dutchman stared arrogantly on him with his green eyes, but suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. ’That’s not acceptable, corporal.’, Major Murphy said. He had swiftly left the table of honour, when he became aware of the situation. ’This is a warning. Never behave like that again. Is that understood?’ De Vries looked down in the floor, with a surly expression. ’Is that understood, corporal?’, Major Murphy roared. ’SIR! YES, SIR!’, De Vries answered. The other Dutchman, Van Gelder, approached Taylor with a concerned expression: ’I’m so sorry. Most of us from The Netherlands are not like him.’ ’I know.’, Taylor answered, ’It’s not your fault.’ The breakfast-eating men returned to their meal. Van Gelder invited Taylor to his table. De Vries had left the Mess Hall in a hurry. As usual, morning hours were full of scheduled interviews and medical examinations, and when the research team returned to The Lab after lunch, I looked at the list with disappointment. ’O no!’ Smith, Lamarck and Gospodinov looked up, surprised. ’What is it?’, Smith asked. ’Look at the list of test-subjects scheduled for this afternoon. De Vries! The man who behaved so badly in the Mess at breakfast, and was a nuisance at the gym some days ago.’ When the event happened, Lamarck and Gospodinov had already left the Mess, so I and Smith told them what had happened. Gruber lurked unseen behind the screen in the corner at the neuro-programmer, as usual. László returned from the gym, still sweating. ’The Schedule was determined long before this happened. He has to be processed sooner or later, anyhow.’, Gospodinov said. A few minutes later, Green checked the waiting room. Corporal De Vries and Sergeant Varga sat there, waiting. ’Ah. A fellow countryman! Hungarian brawn!’, László joked with Varga. The joking manner in which it was said, aside, it was very true. Like László himself, the thirty-three year old Varga seemed to be very interested in physical exercise, and genetically blessed, at that. A hint of envy could be seen in De Vries’ eyes, when he looked at Varga. We repeated the process which Jones and Bjarnarsson had endured, with only slightly enhanced settings. Gruber attentively studied the brainwave patterns of the test subjects. ’Oh! Um. Um. Um… nagy, nagy,! Ummm. Igen. Nagy. Mmmm… …Jól! Oh, um… kiváló… Mmmm… Ungh, ungh… nagyobb! Oh, oh, oh! Több. Több, több, több: IGEN! … Uh, nagyobb! NAGYOBB! Ough, oh, um, nnn, erősebb! Umngh… hatalmas, umngh… roppant, umngh… erőtejlesnek, umngh… óriásiabb, umnnngh, óriásiabb, umnnngh, óriásiabb, óriásiabb, óriásiabb, ÓRIÁSIABB! ÓRIÁSIABB!!! AH! UNGH! AAARGH!!!’, Vargas mumbled and shouted in his mask-mic, unaware of his surroundings. Under the pressure of The Program, both test subjects had mainly reverted to their native languages, and had given in to the overwhelming transformation experience. A very, very strange sound emerged from the speakers, like someone tried to stuff a leather sofa with raw meat. ’Ah! Um, keihard! Uh, uh, uhmm… onbreek…mmm, nnnn… Aan- OH! -genaam… Ja! Meer! Meer! Veel meer! VEEL MEE… UNGH! Ungh, ungh, ungh, goed, zo goed… umngh! Uhn! Heel goed!!! Umnh, uh, unnn… …ben ijzer sterk! Ungh, zal… uh, uh, tegenstand… vernietigen… Nnng… Ja! Ja! Unnnh! Allemaal… umngh, breken… EINDELOOS!!!’ De Vries had been the smaller of them when he stepped into the Chamber, but when Green had released them from their IV’s, and Gruber released them from their neuro-helmets, De Vries and Varga were of the same size, about two metres and with chests around 190 centimetres or so. Both had grown somewhat in height, but above all they had developed large amounts of well-defined and well-proportioned muscle mass. If Varga had been well built before the process, he now resembled an ancient statue of Hercules, although clean-shaven and with a buzz cut. Gospodinov and Green were preoccupied with the upcoming blood-tests, and Lamarck and Gruber watched the naked men in the same cool, objective way they would have watched a piece of cold meat for dissection on a slab. I felt awkward and somewhat threatened by the presence of the huge naked men, and I was not alone among the younger scientists to be shaken in my professional calm. A small suggestion of envy could be seen in the glance of László, and Smith’s ears were blossoming in red. With a delighted countenance, Vargas squeezed his chest muscles and biceps. Despite their maturely masculine features, both László and Varga broke up in boyfully delighted smiles, and their friendly warm brown eyes lit up in joyful mischief. They began to discuss in their own language: ’… nagyobb mint Vörös Zoltán, Molnar Peter…’ I didn’t understand a word, but they seemed enthusiastic. If the Hungarians’ eyes were filled with delight, the green eyes of De Vries were filled by something much more unsettling, in a mix of smugness and disdain. ’Don’t like what you see, Doctor Smith?’, De Vries said with a malicious smile, ’Or perhaps that is exactly what you do, don’t you?’ De Vries took a step forward, and ripped the white lab coat open from the embarrassed Smith’s tiny frame. Smith’s crotch bulged inside the fly. ’I will not allow a small fat faggot ogle me.’, the enraged De Vries said, and gripped Smith’s throat in an incredibly fast movement. De Vries lifted his other arm, and aimed for a stroke. ’I will not allow any pervert ogle me.’ Smith was suffocating. In the same moment a powerful hand grabbed De Vries’ lifted arm. It was Sergeant Varga. With the crook of his other arm, he grabbed De Vries’ neck, and tried to wrestle De Vries to the floor. The men struggled, and, since they were of the same size, the fight was even. Gospodinov and Lamarck hid in Gruber’s corner. László looked like he was considering joining the fight. Smith sat on the floor, dizzy. Jones and Bjarnarsson had taken up the habit to help the nurses with the amniotic fluid, which was heavy to carry. They now stepped inside the lab door, carrying large plastic containers, and observed the situation for a second. The next second Varga, Jones and Bjarnarsson had achieved a lay-out, and led the delinquent to Major Murphy. Jones had stayed behind while Varga and Bjarnarsson left, carrying De Vries between them. ’’ang on a mo’! Glad we could ’elp yuh, Doc. That gobshite divvy of a Dutchman ’ad ed coming. ’e be’aved like a tosser ter Taylor a’ breakfast, and, truth be said, ’as be’aved like a whopper all week, waiting tuh be marmalised. ’e orta calm down, otherwise ’e will receive a good thrashing by the entire Company. Yuh may be a posh twat, Doc, even a little bit of a pooftah, but yer our pooftah, zapping us all with yer magic machine over there, so for me it is more important tha’ yuh are a good scientist, than wha’ever makes yuh ’orny. Yuh do yer part in the war against the space squid by turning me and me crew into fuckin’ unbelievable fighting machines, an’ tha’s great. Yuh duhn't deserve ter be treated the way tha’ Dutch feller treated yuh. Ah suppose ed is flattering in a sense, tha’ yuh consider me an’ others in d’crew tuh be real bruisers. Just try ter avoid staring tuh much on me, so am Ah boss with ed.’ ’I never intended to embarrass you or De Vries or anyone else. I am, rather, embarrassed myself.’, Smith answered. ’No worries, Doc. I consider yuh a mucker nuw. Cotton me right: Ah will not deny two perfectly straight lads ter ’ave fun with each uvver, after surviving an air attack. Such things ’appen. D’thing Ah not like is ponceyness. Anyhuw, if the divvy cause up any shute again, duhn’t hesitate to tell me.’ He patted Smith carefully on the shoulder, and went. The next day Corporal Janssens, one of the Belgians, and Corporal Radu, one of the Romanians, went through the Procedure, and reacted just as well as Jones and Bjarnarsson did. Gruber decided to take brainwave samples of all specimens who reacted well to the treatment, in the hope to soon awake Soares and Johansson from their comatose state. With six successful cases, the mood in the Mess Hall had definitely improved. ’You are welcome to sit at our table if you want, Viking Guy.’, Kowalski told me at the queue with a serious expression. When we sat, eating, he asked: ’Do you think you will be able to awake Corporal Soares soon? And Corporal Johansson, of course.’ While Zielinski and two of the Czech test subjects listened silently, I explained our hopes as comprehensible as possible. ’Oi! Doc! You can’t let Jones have this advantage on me. How soon will you put me in the magic box?’ ’By the look of it, Radu’s wife will be overwhelmed of joy when he comes home. Hey there, Boffin! Can you assure all of us the same marital happiness?’ Roars of laughter. Radu throwing a roll on the man who spoke. A proud Janssens shouted: ’Anyone who want to watch when Coach measure how much I lift by now?’ When I went to bed at Hall 3-6-3, it was with the feeling of relief and optimism. From now on, everything would probably go better, without any unscheduled hiccups or accidents. I didn’t know how wrong I was. *** I awoke by a sound. Subdued noises came from the neighbouring room and the passage. I was sleepy and confused. Barefoot and only wearing a pair of pyjamas, I peeked out in the passage. It was Gruber and Varga. ’You will end this stupid joke immediately’, Gruber said in a harsh voice. ’Negative.’, Varga answered: ’You are not a part of The Program.’ ’I demand that you obey orders, soldier!’, Gruber said heatedly. ’I am programmed to obey The Program, Doctor. You are not a part of The Program.’ ’I am scientifically responsible for this Programme, soldier. Now obey my orders!’, Gruber shouted. ’Negative. You are not a part of The Program. Stay back, civilian. You are not part of this Program.’ Varga carefully pushed Gruber aside, and, oblivious of the Professor’s rage, strode away, and found me there, listening. He observed me unimpassionately for a second, and then said: ’You are not a part of The Program. You have been found attuneable to The Program. You will be integrated into The Program.’ When we entered the main corridor, I found Jones waiting there with an almost naked László, who had been pinioned with skipping-ropes from the Gym, and silenced with a towel. Something was strange with Varga’s and Jones’ eyes, like they were drugged, hypnotised or not really there. They bound a towel over my mouth. Without any comment, they led me and László to the Lab, and without further ado, they started the equipment the way they had seen us do it a couple of times. László, who was only dressed in a pair of jockstrap pants, and looked like a drowsy but angry commercial for nutritional supplements, tugged in his ropes, and was red in his face by his attempts to release himself. He was unable to speak, but his gaze viewed Jones and Varga with defiance. ’You will be integrated into The Program, Doctor Skrefsrud.’ ’This is ridiculous. Is this a joke? I am not a soldier, but a scientist. Will you now please release me and Doctor László.’ ’Incorrect. You will be integrated into The Program.’ Somewhat of Jones own personality broke through: ’Honestly, Viking Guy. With tha’ starving greyhound build of yours, ed would be bright ter pack onna few pounds o’muscle.’ I was unable to stop Jones and Varga from carrying out their insane plan. Their large and strong hands undressed me and threw my pair of pyjamas on a bench. They swabbed my skin at the spot where my subcutaneous implant was, and administered the IV. Electrodes monitoring my heart were placed at the ordinary places, the neurohelmet over my head, and the breathing mask over my face. I felt the strong warm hands of Varga helping me into the sluice. The doors behind me shut and the doors to the chamber opened. The humming increased in volume. CHAMBER ONE IS [NOT OCCUPIED] AND [WARMING UP] [Preparing for] Specimen: Dr. Skrefsrud Weight: 68 kilogrammes Height: 179 centimetres Chest: 96 centimetres Waist: 71 centimetres Arm: 35 centimetres Thighs: 55 centimetres Theoretically, I knew what to expect, when the machine began to hum softly, but to be present inside the claustrophobic cylinder during the procedure was something entirely different, than to impartially observe and document the process. Weakly, I pounded in panic against the steel and glass walls of the cylinder. But the entrapment was neither the only reason, nor the foremost reason for my fear. I knew, that soon the machine would expose my mind and my body to a Program built for highly trained soldiers, and highly trained soldiers prophylactically prepared in days and weeks before, at that. God knows what would happen if an unprepared civilian underwent the treatment. I knew my duty in this war: To use my scientific knowledge in order to help The Boys achieve their highest standard of performance, but not become a useless civilian test subject. It went against all reason – tactically and otherwise. With a gurgling sound the liquid began to pour and stream into the chamber, but the sound quickly changed into a resounding noise reminiscent of a faucet filling a tub, or a small fall streaming into a brook. The level rose quickly. My useless attempts to break free from the cylinder were soon swallowed by the near-oblivious state caused by the analgesic and tranquillising components of the IV-formula devised by Gospodinov and Lamarck. I wasn't fully aware about it, but my body was infused with the genetic modifiers, the hormonal stimulants and the highly concentrated nutrients necessary. My body braced itself, and was primed for the upcoming transformation. When I regained consciousness, I was floating weightlessly in the comfortably warm liquid, and one second of panic over the risk of drowning was quickly driven away by the reassuring hissing from the comfortably tight-fitting breathing mask. Everything was shimmering in a beautiful blue colour, and the inside of the cylinder had become almost mirror-like, only vaguely hinting about the human shapes moving or standing outside. I had been worried before. Why had I been worried before? Everything was warm, pleasant and blue-shimmering now, and very still and calm. With a whirring sound the helmet’s eyeshield lowered itself before my eyes. A black display with brightly coloured text and graphics filled my range of vision, and shut the view of the Chamber out. I saw the digital graphic charts of my present physique and the settings of the Morphogenetic Fields. CHAMBER ONE IS [OCCUPIED] AND [iNITIATING] [NEURO-PROGRAMMING PROTOCOL] Suddenly, something began to hammer relentlessly against my mind. No! I don't want to... No! No! No, no, no, no, oh no, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, uh, uh, uh, uh, ungh, ungh, ngh, nng, nng, nng, mnng, mnng, mnng, mnng, uh: Sir! Yes, Sir! Yes! O, yes! 101 0000… … 101 0010 100 1111 100 1010 100 0101100 0011 101 0100 010 0000 100 0100 100 0101 100 0110 100 0101 100 1110 100 0100 100 0101 101 0010… I integrated into The Program, and merged perfectly into the Project, becoming one of the test subjects, and evolving into another specimen of the new breed of super soldiers. Correction: Becoming one of us, and evolving into a part of the unit. This individual unit will obey the direction to protect the military unit and all civilians. This individual unit will do everything necessary to optimise and maximise the performance of himself and of The Program. No-one will be permitted to abolish or limit the aim of The Program. This individual unit is now attuning perfectly. This individual unit of The Program is now becoming enhanced. This individual unit is now becoming augmented according to plan. Words does not suffice to describe what happened in a matter of seconds: Instantaneously I became an expert on hundreds of weapon technologies, and my ability to make fast and correct tactical decisions in a situation was intensified in an incredible way. Close combat skills I never had were now deeply ingrained in my primal instincts, and I didn't feel fear: At least not the sort of fear which paralysed in a situation. I was still equipped with the ability to recognise and assess danger. The mental and emotional turmoil of the reprogramming was fading into focused serenity again. The liquid was warm against my skin, and my body felt warm and comfortable. I opened my eyes, and saw the display still folded down before them. The outline of my present physique stood out against the black background, sketched in blue lines, and the outline of the Morphogenetic Fields was drawn in green as usual. Suddenly, someone outside the cylinder was obviously editing the standard settings, in contradiction to the usual protocol. The cursor clicked on the traps, delts, pecs, lats and every other muscle of the anatomical drawing glowing in green, and made the skeleton taller and more broad shouldered. For a second, I reacted alarmed by the changes: Someone was compromising the safety of The Program, and the green anatomical drawing was now depicting a brutally built titanic individual. The next second I relaxed: This individual unit will do everything necessary to optimise and maximise the performance of himself and of The Program. Another change of settings almost escaped my attention, since the display now folded upwards: Hypertrophic radiation 300%. I could now see my blue-shimmering surroundings again. The next moment liquid blue was turned into flaming gold. I had always been absent minded. When sitting at a desk, my thoughts were always preoccupied by the studies and reports I read, not of my physical environment, my bodily posture, or my own breathing. When my legs walked through corridors at hospital or university, my thoughts and my self always wandered somewhere else. Actually, I had never been really and fully aware of my own bodily presence. It was different now. I felt my heartbeat resound in all my blood vessels, and my lungs greedily drank the oxygen-mixture hissing into my mouth from the breathing mask. And I felt how my personal awareness entirely filled up my body: my hardening torso, my broadening back, my now powerful thighs, my calves. And my arms! O, my arms! A hard, warm feeling filled my triceps’, bicep’s, the vein-covered fore-arms, and there was no part of my body, not fingers, nor toes, which was not entirely and perfectly a part of my intense, conscious, bodily presence. For the first time in my life I was aware. Present. Embodied. Physical. Me. That was just the beginning. Lightning struck. Power streamed into my being. Energy surged into my core. The flaming gold changed me, transformed my shape, enhanced my physique, transmuted the ore of my existing muscles into the steel-hard, pulsating cords and bulges of unyielding, raw, ultra-masculine brawn. I was oblivious of my surroundings now, ecstatically and deliriously consumed by The Program’s anabolic bliss. Then, this individual unit was optimised and maximised according to The Program. Strange stretch… But so pleasant. Pain. Excitement. O yeah! Height soaring. So tall, now. Lava heat in lats, broadening. Pump-like, entirely. Oh, oh, oh, uh! The feeling! Massive thighs, and fucking incredible calves. Cannonball glutes. Dense, hard, ripped, rocky, burning abs! So hard, mmmnnngh, so indestructible. Warm, heavy and insane arms. Unbreakable arms. Mountains! Pecs like armour! Titanic delts. Ridge of granite traps! Uh! Uh! This individual unit fluctuated between being entirely controlled by The Program and being aware of individuality. The desire to grow muscular may have existed in the deep recesses of the unit even before, or it may not, but anyway it now burned with this one focus: To optimise. To maximise. To be a useful instrument of this military unit. My one mission at the moment was, for my brothers’ sake, to increase my ability to run, haul, tug, lift, tear, throw, punch… The change! The powerblaze change! Growing. Hardening. Defining. Don’t stop it! Don’t end it! Raw power charging every atom! More! Unit want more! Optimise me! Maximise me! Increasing fire! Increasing power charge! Yeah! O yeah! Fucking yeah! So amazing! Pervading power… Yes! More! Unit will comply. Unit will protect. Unit powerful. Unit… mmmnnngh! Will use enhanced… Yes! Yes! … to defend… Yes! …mmmnnngh! I was losing control entirely, and wasn’t aware of which words or sounds I emitted. I dived, oblivious of the outer world, in a sea of radiant energy. I only knew that I craved to be even bigger. The separation between what was my bodily frame and the surrounding sea of energy began to blur. It felt like the entire ocean of power gushed into me. The power ocean filled me. I was the power ocean. O God! Uh, uh, grow, uh, uh, uh, unstoppable, uh, uh, uh, big, uh, uh, uh, hard, uh, uh, unh, unh, unh, power, unh, unh, charged, unh, crackling, unh, loaded, ungh, ungh, brimming, ungh, buzzing, ungh, umngh, umngh, umngh, mmmm, ah! Mmmm, ah! Mmmm, AH! MMMM AH! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! AH! AH! I AM INVINCIBLE! …! I had become a living weapon. When this individual unit regained consciousness, the liquid was fading, and the surface of the liquid was at my waist. The liquid no longer kept me floating in weightlessness, and I had to stand on my feet. My large feet felt vaguely unusual for me, but anyhow I knew that I was perfectly able to use them in close combat. The receding solution revealed to me the feeling of this heavyweight body and the faces of my team-members outside the hypertrophic chamber: Worried but awe-struck (László), embarrassed but excited (Smith) and triumphant (Jones and Varga). When only a negligible amount of remaining liquid was whirling at the bottom of the glass cylinder, it opened, and Smith relieved me from the breathing mask and the neuro-helmet. ’I don’t know what to say’, Smith murmured. I eyed one of the screens, which still reported my new statistic data in light blue letters: CHAMBER ONE IS [NOT OCCUPIED] AND [iN STANDBY MODE] Specimen [leaving chamber]: Dr. Skrefsrud Weight: 197 kilogrammes Height: 205 centimetres Chest: 203 centimetres Waist: 109 centimetres Arm: 79 centimetres Thighs: 101 centimetres ’The insurgence of the test subjects is unnerving, and their insane idea to meddle with the settings made me worry for your and Green’s lives, but it doesn’t seem to be that dangerous. Quite contrary, as it seems. Do you feel alright?’ ’Green?’, I asked. ’Yes. As soon as they had placed you in Chamber 1, they put Green in Chamber 2. Do you feel alright?’ Outside the cylinder I began to notice the full consequences of the process. I was looking down on Smith who eyed my abs before he reached up to remove the IV tube. My vivid memory of once being a hardgainer now seemed as a bad joke. My broad shoulders were melons of marble, and my chest consisted of well-defined steel-hard pecs, separated by a deep valley continuing downwards between the cobblestone abs. My upper body had achieved a perfect V-shape. I felt confident, energised and content. ’I haven’t felt better in my entire life. Trust me. This is incredible, truly incredible.’ Smith swallowed. ’You look indescribably well, Skrefsrud, although I feel a little bit intimidated by you. Will you please help me to release Green from Chamber 2, so we can discuss the problem of the test subjects.’ ’The problem?’, I asked. ’Which problem?’ ’O come on, Skrefsrud. I mean the insurgence. They can’t use the lab against our permission, and experiment on persons who are not even test-subjects. We have to awake Major Murphy or Captain Melnyk.’ ’I see no problem. You are attunable to The Program. This individual unit will do everything necessary to optimise and maximise the performance of himself and of The Program.’ ’O God! It can’t be true? You have become one of them!’ ’I am a part of The Program. You will become a part of The Program. Do not worry, citizen. You will become an enhanced and augmented unit. Jones enjoyed the procedure. Varga enjoyed the procedure. I enjoyed the procedure. You will enjoy the procedure.’ Jones and Varga observed with equal amounts of sense of duty, glee and compassion, when I began to undress Smith, who looked like a trapped animal. Intense fear shone from his eyes, when I put the neurohelmet on his head, and fastened the breathing mask over his nose and mouth. The experience of standing naked, surrounded by three insanely muscular men, of which one was stark naked and two were uniformed, seemed to involuntarily cause conflicting emotions in Smith. He sported an obvious hard-on. I pressed my powerful hand to his tiny shoulder, in order to steady him when I placed the IV tube in his subcutaneous membrane. He panicked, but his voice became inaudible when I closed the doors of the hypertrophic chamber. Next, we released Green from Chamber 2. He had reacted well to The Program, and followed it as dutifully as expected, but, by unknown reasons, he hadn’t grown entirely as much as myself. Jones, Varga, Green and myself were one in purpose when we turned around, and looked at László. During the struggle before my transformation, László had maintained a cocky and defiant attitude towards Jones and Varga, but now he sat bound to his chair with his shoulders sloped in a resigned expression. Jones let me free László from the ropes, and in silence László began unprompted to undress, and stepped into Chamber 2. His resigned expression was mixed with something else, and when I administered the IV-tube, he looked on me with an eager smile. Anticipation shone from his warm brown puppy eyes. ’I have worked out my entire life, Skrefsrud. If this is my destined way to achieve my dreams, so be it. I very much doubt, that I will resist the treatment the way you and Green tried. Bring it on, soldier! All you have, and then some. Fiddle with the settings if you believe it will benefit The Project. See you on the other side.’ Jones closed the doors, and Green activated Gospodunov’s anabolic formula. In order to alleviate Smith’s fear, the tranquillisers and analgesics were administered in a somewhat higher dose. We looked at the screen: CHAMBER ONE IS [OCCUPIED] AND [RUNNING PREPARATORY PROTOCOL] Specimen: Dr. Smith Weight: 85 kilo grammes Height: 170 centimetres Chest: 106 centimetres Waist: 96 centimetres Arm: 30 centimetres Thighs: 66 centimetres CHAMBER TWO IS [OCCUPIED] AND [RUNNING PREPARATORY PROTOCOL] Specimen: Dr. László Weight: 92 kilo grammes Height: 176 centimetres Chest: 121 centimetres Waist: 81 centimetres Arm: 48 centimetres Thighs: 66 centimetres ’Which settings do we prefer?’, I asked Jones and Varga. They thought for a few seconds. ’Let’s experiment. You don’t know the outer limits of the procedure yet, do you?’ The four of us looked at the screen. After some thought, Green adjusted the balance of the nutrients slightly. Jones asked about the levels of hypertrophic radiation, and, after a discussion between myself and Green, we combined a 350% level with an increased saturation of nano-particles. We modified the morphogenetic field even further than during the processing of me and Green. Thirty minutes later, Lászlo roared in excitement. ’Make me into one of them! Make me… Yes! Make me into one of you! Yes! Yes! Make me into one of… Uh, uh, uh, into one of us! Yes, yes, YES! Sir, yes sir!’ His speech faded into guttural noise, when the proficiency and behavioural patterns were implanted into him. He hadn’t resisted The Program. We turned our attention to Smith’s Chamber. He was awakening for the reprogramming. ’Don’t meddle with the settings! Let me out! Are you still out there? The walls are like blue mirrors now. I can’t see you. Hello? Are you there? Don’t put the machine on. Ouch! I’m burning! Ah! Ah!’ We were able to see Smith from the outside of the Chamber. The translucent cylinder revealed his small, pale and portly body floating weightlessly in the blue solution like a dark-haired pallid pear. ’No! I will not! I will certainly not! Will… Mmmm. No. Not! Mmmm… No! I refuse! I… Mmmm… We will… I… Mmmm… Oh! The Program! Mmmm… We… Uh, uh, uh, ah, ah… Mmmm… SIR! YES, SIR!’ His body stiffened and arched a moment, but then relaxed. The reprogramming took over, and Smith’s pulse slowed down from the dangerous rate Green had monitored cautiously. After a while the usual humming sound began and increased in volume, until the golden lightning bombarded László’s and Smith’s defenceless bodies. Through the golden red flares the outlines of our new recruits were only dimly seen, but it was obvious that they grew in height and muscle mass. Body fat swiftly burned away from Smith under the pressure of the energy-consuming process, and hints of an emerging six pack could be faintly traced. The screen reported their changes better, than an observation of the actual chambers did, since the light from the bolts and surges was nearly blinding in the beginning of the process. The anatomic charts in blue lines were gradually moving closer to the surrounding charts in green lines. Inside the chambers László and Smith murmured, grunted and groaned without coherent sentences, lost in their intense experiences, in a manner not unknown for anyone who belonged to The Project himself. Smith’s voice had deepened into a pleasant bass. From the fragments of their moaning, it seemed like they were able to see their own reflections in the inside surface of the chambers. From the speakers connected to László’s mask we heard: ’Oh. Ah. Oh. Mmmm. Ah. Fucking pump! Nnnn. Uh. So awesome! Oh, yes. Oh, yes! Oh, my abs! Mmmm. Ah. Fucking Lesukov pecs! Coleman back! Love this feeling. Uh. Ah. Oh! Better than exp… Oh! Yes! More! Ripped! Mmmm, ah! Look at these! Mmmm. I’m so… oh! Uh. Yes! Brutal! Beyond! Nnnn! Nnng! Will defeat… Uhnnn!’ From Smith’s mask-mic we heard: ’Yes. Yes, yes. Attuned… Nnnn. Enhanced… Nnnn. Um. Augmented… Nnnm. Resist every… Nnnm. Mmmm. Immense! Mmmm. Herculean! Mmmm. Powerboast! Oh! Gigantic! Titanic! Oh! Oh! OH! This unit… mnnn… defend … Oh. Ah. Oh! So full, tight, hard, oh, uh, uh. Mmnngh, massive, mmnngh, brutal, fucking, oh, nnnh, ah. So… uhnn, uhnn.’ Through the raging glow of the hypertrophic radiation we saw László and Smith change. László had been in very good shape already, but even he was changing. He was taller now, and more broad shouldered than before. His shoulders were like volley balls, and were still growing. His twitching pecs were like basket balls pulsating of their own life. His abs were like tightening tennis balls cast of some strange uncrushable metal. In the case of Smith, the ongoing transformation was even more sensational. His once fragile and unhealthy appearance had lost all traces of bodyfat, and now loomed inside the Chamber, like some tall, overwhelming muscular living monument, purposely designed to instil wariness, respect and awe in the beholder. He was built by unbelievably powerful, still growing, muscles contracting and pulsating in the glow of the empowering emissions of buzzing hypertrophic bolts. His enormous bull-neck and insanely defined abs, obliques and serratus made it hard to believe it was the same man. His chin had grown larger and was now indented by a little dimple. He had been well-shaven at the moment he had been forced into the Chamber, but now his chin and cheeks were covered in short, dark stubble. The transformation process just went on and on, for a longer duration and with more extreme results, beyond what we had thought possible. Jones and Varga looked fixedly on the men in the chambers. The golden light from the rays illumined their facial expressions of obedience to The Program, pride over their new recruits, and awe before the intimidating and insanely bulging behemoths of bronzed steel inside the cylinders, radiating confidence, superiority, ultra-masculinity and strength. Green checked the screen. CHAMBER ONE IS [OCCUPIED] AND [RUNNING PHYSICAL REPROGRAMMING PROTOCOL] Dr. Smith Weight: [213 kilo grammes] [AND INCREASING] Height: [209 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Chest: [210 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Waist: [118 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Arm: [82 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Thighs: [110 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] CHAMBER TWO IS [OCCUPIED] AND [RUNNING PHYSICAL REPROGRAMMING PROTOCOL] Dr. László Weight: [215 kilo grammes] [AND INCREASING] Height: [211 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Chest: [212 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Waist: [120 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Arm: [85 centimetres] [AND INCREASING] Thighs: [109 centimetres [AND INCREASING] The charts in blue lines almost conformed to the charts in green lines, and the difference between the charts diminished every second. The grunts and moans from the recruits changed into bellowing roars of excitement. ’Big! Big! Big, big, big, big, big, oh fucking ah!’ ’Process intense! Uh, uh, uhngh! Affirmative!’ ’These… Oh, yeah! And these… O my God!’ ’Oh, in-du-ration … of … mnnngh! Ah, oh, uh! Achieving!’ ’Uhnn, uhnn, uhnn, ah, oh, ah, ah. AH! AH! AH! Yes! Yes! YES! YE… AAH! AAAH!!! THE POWER! …!’ ’Optimising! MAXIMISING! Nnngh, mnnngh, AAH! AAAH NGH!!!’ The humming sound from the chambers subsided, the thunderstorm in gold abated, and the fluid flushed into the draining gutter. When the chambers had become free from the liquid, the test subjects stepped outside. *** For me and Green it was obvious that we now had enough useful data about a healthy way to execute the Procedure. ’Lieutenant Jones. The data needed for reawakening of Corporal Soares and Corporal Johansson are most probably gathered by now. The Program demand their integration and reinstallment.’ ’Yes, it does, Doctor Skrefsrud. This will be undertaken.’ While Jones and László went to Infirmary, the now uniformed Smith looked at his goggles on the desk: ’I have no use for these anymore. My sight is perfect after the morphogenetic treatment – a positive side-effect we hadn’t considered.’ He grabbed his spectacles with his huge hand, and crushed them into pieces, throwing the remains in the recycling boxes for glass and metal. A few minutes later, the thuggishly built Jones held Soares’ fragile and defenceless body in his powerful arms, with a concerned and protective expression. He cradled Soares’ unconscious body carefully, and gave me the impression of an alpha male wolf protecting a wounded cub. Similarly, but even taller, and with his brutal build, László loomed at the far end of the Lab with – the already slightly transformed – Johansson. Only a man built like László could have been able to carry Johansson on his own. The synthetic amniotic fluid in the chambers was replaced by a cleaning chemical and emptied. The machines were already warming up for another step for The Program and some of its recruits. Several hours remained of the most eventful night of the experiment. The story continues in https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7120-project-defender-chapter-three/

Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part VI Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6120-umpires-part-one-by-freaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6180-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-ii/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6488-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-iii/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6562-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-iv/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6563-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-v/ "Guys... we have a problem." Said Sebastian as he plopped his 6' 3" 250 pound frame onto the stone circle bench in the secret room of his ancestral home. "I believe our ancestors' enemy's ancestor is here, back in Strangwich, and he knows we know about our gift giving abilities." "What?" said most everyone in attendance: Mason, Brook, Connor, and Callum. "Late yesterday afternoon, Blake and Santiago came running in as fast as they could to the coach's office." "Well there's trouble. Two of the largest guys on the football team running anywhere. Did the door frame handle them both trying to get through?" said Callum. "That's the problem. They weren't two of the largest guys on the football team anymore, they were the two smallest, and that's the two smallest, not two of the smallest." "What?" said Mason as he rose to his 6' 8" height questioning his lover's statement. "You and I turned Santiago into a huge hunk of man nearly seven feet tall. Collectively all of us, save Callum, on the first weekend of the school year turned Blake from tiny mouse into a roaring lion that could join the NFL. How the hell are they small?" "I'm not sure. They thought the coast was clear, and so did the coach. He took them out of the line and said they were in for testing due to their recent growth spurts, not mentioning how small they were. But I saw them when they came running in and watched as they talked with the coach. They couldn't have been any taller than five foot tall." "And you think our grandparents' enemy's descendant made them that short?" "And took away their muscular size, as well as anything else we gave them probably." "Can the... enemy do that?" "Yes," interrupted Callum. "Sorry, Bast. I've been reading through your Great Booke of the Family and the stories and accounts written down. It clearly said he would be able to take our gifts, but the wording used is definitely not just the powers you have, but the effects your gifts give to others. They weren't sure what he was going to do with them though." "I think he collects them and keeps them for himself." said Zachary. "Why do you think that?" Said Sebastian. "Henri Marasme. He's a new student, who's making a big deal in more ways than one." "Starting the semester a little late isn't he?" "That's the first big deal. His parents both passed with Dad leaving him a huge company to run. It apparently took forever for him to find someone to honestly run the company while he's away for two-thirds of the year studying abroad. So he's been taking class work over the net, like an on-line class. Anyway he was supposed to arrive sometime early Saturday morning but his plane had all sorts of problems that the airlines couldn't understand nor figure out. He didn't arrive here until around ten-thirty last night." "Well it doesn't sound so odd, all explainable at some point I'm sure." "Yeah, but get this. The few members of the administration and faculty that met him Saturday night, commented on him being the most diminutive man they ever met, so did his roomy; however, everyone who's met him since Sunday evening, swears he's a hulking giant. They're talking like a seven foot tall body builder!" "They must be all slightly mistaken. Trick of light or something." "Nope. His roomy was so freaked out, he had to show off proof, so he brought people into his dorm room and opened up Henri's closet. It was full of nothing but his original clothes, all tailor made for a man of around 4' 11" who is extremely skinny. But on the bed we boxes full of new clothes and shoes from the big and tall men's shops around town all for a really big man... like around seven foot and is damn near a professional body builder. All the boxes were purchases made on Sunday evening, just before the shops all closed for the night." "That wouldn't be too long after Blake and Santiago ran to the coach. But how can well tell this guy really is the descendant of our forefather's enemy, and thus ours I guess. We'd need to find a way." "His name." Said Callum. "What?" Said everyone else collectively. "His name. Part of the curse placed upon his family was that their surname was to be 'Slump' and that no matter what they did or where they went, it would always be that. Zach you said his name was Henri... what was his last name?" "Marasme." "Sounds French...and if I remember my high school French class correctly... ... ...marasme is the French word for... to bend, to lean, or to slump. Henri's last name is slump." There was several minutes of silence, except for Callum turning pages in the Great Booke of the Family. Finally Sebastian spoke up. "So, now we need to figure out how does he get our gifts, what does he do with the effects of the gifts, and What is Callum's power and how does it save us?" Callum quickly slammed the book down on the bench, "He's storing it.... for himself." Again, came the collective response, "What?!" "I just figured out that one part of the story. He would be able to take our gifts once he realized with what laziness began and subtract that from his name. You guys spoke that your forefathers would get their gifts if they had faith in the word, and you were thinking it was having faith in a creed, like the Bible or Wiccan Rede or some such articles of faith, but you got your powers once you discovered your trigger word. It wasn't to have faith in the word, but having faith in a word. It's a magical play on words here. In case, his name is slump. He has to subtract with what laziness begins. What letter begins the word laziness?" "L" spoke up Connor. "Correct. Subtract L from the word slump and what word do you have?" Zachary spoke. "S..s...sump? What is that. I've not heard of a sump before, except as in sump pump." "Exactly. Sumps were built in old houses before all of the old water proofing materials and such came, to help prevent the basements, or more properly storage cellars, from flooding. The excess water was collected into what people today thought mistakenly were partially dried up and filled in wells. They weren't wells but a collection basin to keep the cellars from flooding, a sump. Then when modern technology had advanced far enough, but people still didn't have the money or the technology to raise the house and just make a dry basement, but the rains and such proved too much to contain in the sump, they invented the sump pump. Once your sump reached a certain level of water, the pump would kick in and start pumping the water out into a set of pipes leading out of the building." Sebastian stood up. "So you're telling me, he'll just take our gifts...powers that is, and the gifts we've given people and just collect them." "Yeah. I'm not exactly sure what he would do with your gifts, but the ones you've given, he's just going to collect and hold, probably... ... ... just like a sump held water. It just collected it and held it." Mason turned and looked over to Sebastian. "Hon, if he collects all the gifts we've given to every student on this campus... ... ..." "And tracks down the ones who have already graduated as well... ... ... he's going to grow into a ten ...fifteen...twenty foot tall hulking mass!" Callum blinked in astonishment. "Seriously? How many men have you given gifts to?" Sebastian sighed. "We haven't kept track. Collectively somewhere around twenty to thirty students per year?" "Twenty to thir.....And did you make them all behemoth footballers like Blake and Santiago?" Mason stepped forward, "Take it easy there Callum. It's not like we meant to put the world in jeopardy with what we were doing. And, no... not all of them were hulking brutes. Sometimes we just gave a bit of height, or a little muscle, or like the night we showed you, it was just cock and ball growth." "Oh gawd...." said Brook. "What will happen if he gets the people I gifted and siphons off their gift? This fifty fuckin' foot tall giant hulk with balls the size of the Daily Planet Globe! Then what if he blows a load willie nillie anywhere and it strikes women? Will they become pregnant and give birth to more giant sized Slump family children? And what happens if they have his power too? This is just.." "Shhh shhhh shhhhh shhhhh baby, calm down... breathe..." Zachary consoled as he held Brook's head to his shoulder and sat him down. The sextet sat in silence for a long while staring at each other, the walls, the fire, space, until Sebastian spoke up. "Well...You said, Callum, that this was a play on words. We need to figure out what your word is, what your gift/power is, and how it protects us, and we need to figure that out fast. Yet, at the same time... you might need to keep your distance from us. Mr. 'Slump' might not be aware of the fact that our sixth member has come to us. Keeping you at bay might keep you safe." ***************************************************************************** The college's open gymnasium was full of activity and clatter as hundreds of students were getting a workout in one form another, but then suddenly it became very quiet. In came Henri Marasme, all seven feet, oggly some odd hundreds pounds of him. He had to duck his head to get through the door. He had to twist his body sideways because his chest, back, and shoulders were too broad to fit through the door frame for a straight walk-through. Even if they were all deflated, he still couldn't do it for his arms were of such a size he nearly looked like he was doing a charades'' motion of an airplane at all times. THUD THUD THUD They heard him walking into the place, so heavy were his footfalls, despite the fact that he kicked his feet out sideways in order to walk forward. And with every step he jiggled and wig gled in a solid is flowing kind of way. The way that bodybuilder's muscles bounce, pop, and flex as they do something as simple as walking to a water cooler or reaching to grab something off a top shelf. They stood and watched him. Only one person on campus was anywhere near close to his size and that was Santiago de Silva who was apparently out with a virus or growing pains or something. The two next biggest men on campus was Brandon Brockman or Blake Smythe, and Blake was out with the same ailments as Santiago. Still it didn't matter, both men were half a foot or so shorter than Henri, and although pretty large, they didn't have the build Henri did. They'd have to combine their builds in order to be equal to Henri's. The noise only began to come back to the background when Henri sat down at a bench press and started adjusting the weights. He put a good hefty amount on the bar, causing quite a few people to stop talking again and watch as he pressed the bar and weights off the rack and then bring it down to his chest. "eeeeeeeeeee............hoooooooooo" He repeated this motion several times as folks watched the veins begin to pop out on his arms, across his chest and shoulders. They watched as his barreling chest became engorged with blood and began to mound higher and higher, swelling just a bit more and stretching the straps of his tank top wider and wider apart. Some ladies began to shift nervously in their seats or stances as they watch the peaks of pecs mound higher, grow tighter in the shirt, until Henri's nipples began to poke out tighter in the fabric than most of their nipples did in their blouses in winter. Henri began to take a sense of his surroundings. "Hmmmmmm yesssssss," He thought to himself. "There are others here who have been gifted. The quintet giveth...and I shall taketh away...." Henri performed several more reps with the bar before he began chanting with his moments. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......sump......hooooooooooooooo." He began to shift on the bench. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......Sump......hooooooooooooooo." His pecs swelled even farther, pulling the u shaped front of the tank tap further down his chest. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......SUMP......hooooooooooooooo." There was the sounds of bone snapping, skin stretching, his lats, arms, shoulders, and back seemed to push out further from his tank top. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......SUMP!!......hooooooooooooooo." His pants began to creep up his leg.... his shoes became form fitting to his feet and began to emit the sounds of small tears and rips. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......HMMMM MOTHER......hooooooooooooooo.....SUMP....SUUUUUUUMP!" His pants traveled up his leg but were snapped by his calves filling up fuller and larger quickly like some water balloon approaching burst level. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......SUMP SUMP SUMP SUMP!......hooooooooooooooo." His thighs split the seams of his pants, his feet burst forth from his sneakers, snapping the laces as well, while his chest pulled the top of his tank down....down....down.... until just before pulling it so far down his massively muscular man tits or 'pectacular pecs simply tore the front open all the way to half way down his abs. Men while several shrieks were heard from several men as they began to lose size. Tom: shrunk by four inches, Richard: lost thirty pounds of muscle, Harold: twenty five pounds of muscle, shrunk 5 inches shorter, Olag: lost four to five inches of cock size while his balls shrunk to the size of pistachios. It seemed like several men were tripping or collapsing, all suffering from some kind of weakness. The whole time Henri just swelled larger and broader, taller and thicker, harder, veinier, more striated. "AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" Henri finally stood up and proceeded to start bending the weight bar... Not by much, but still, giving that any kind of curve takes a mountain of a man with an incredible amount of strength and power to do it. He began to walk forward, moaning as he did so. His crotch having grown a bit larger was getting rubbed by his tight, tight underwear and the lose fabric of his shredded jeans shifting this way and that. It soon produced a near frightening erection that threatened to tear the crotch area of his pants. Reaching the dining section of the gym, he picked up several of the large, empty, metal trays and began to bend them in half, all the way, doubled over. Students and faculty in the crowd began to whisper and moan cries of astonishment and awe, calling him super, giant, god-like. To help support this Henri then walked over to a lunch bench full of students and told them to go ahead and stay seated while he picked them all up, eventually working it up into a military press, which he pumped out several reps before being called out. "Dude! I don't care if you're the fuckin' hulk, we don't need raging hard on penis displays when working out or showing off our strength. Put them down go find some pants that fit." Henri put them down, but then turned and faced his adversary. "SUMP!" Brandon was taken aback by this a bit, but answered back as coolly and alpha as he could. "Not much. What'sup with you ... besides you're ungodly erection?" Henri stopped for a moment. His word did nothing to this man.... he was all natural...untouched. "Now, I'm a sucker for showing off a well built bod, and dude, you are totally jacked! You're like Arnie squared! But there are dress codes here at the school, and showing off everywhere is just against the bro code. I mean....I could run around in a tank top...." and Brandon took his jacket and over shirt off. "And run around all the time, but if men such as we do this, it just crushes all hopes of the everyday milksop to make himself into a man or even get out of bed in the morning. You have to play the god-like body kind of cool." "Yesssss.... coooooool." Suddenly the doors opened and in walked Sebastian and Mason, all too casually, as if about to have lunch or go sit in the sauna as opposed to getting ready for a workout. "Awww fuck!" Cried out Sebastian. Brandon turned around and saw the two gentleman standing there slacked jawed. "Go on to the pool or something Knight. This is a conversation between big men and doesn't concern you." "You know these gentlemen?" "Yeah. That one is Sebastian Knight, he's with me on the football team. He wants my position but he can't have it. He doesn't carry the size and the power necessary to do so. He keeps hitting the weight room, over and over and over and over, but he can't gain any size. He's just someone who doesn't know when or how to accept the fact of what he is and what his position in life will always be. The other dude is his buddy, Mason Fletcher, a barely talented hack on the basketball team, only there because he's slightly tall." "Hey!" "Brandon, listen to me... you need to walk away from this man." "Screw you, Sebastian!" "Knight and Fletcher... you say.... I know those names well. ... ... ... Tell me...uh.... what is your name?" "You don't know it?!? Dude, I'm the captain of the football team, for fuck's sake! Brandon. Brandon Brockman." "Hmmmm tell me... Brandon....Dude.... does Sebastian get in your way? Does he make you feel annoyed?" "Yeah... he does....quite a bit sometimes, but not much I can do about it. Why?" "I think we might be able to help each other. Pardon me for just a moment." With that Henri turned and picked up one of the sets of table and benches in the dining area and hurled it towards Sebastian and Mason. The two men realized it was coming in fast and trying to navigate through the doors behind them might not be fast enough to escape injury. Instead they dove forward, the ensemble crashing behind them getting mangled with the bar releases of the doors. It effectively blocked their immediate exit. Brando began to say something about how bad it was to damage school property, but before he could, he was turned around facing Sebastian and Mason, while his back went towards Henri. Then in one quick, and slightly painful moment Brandon's pants and underwear were ripped down his legs. Brandon went to move, but was pinned to Henri's chest by Henri's left arm. Suddenly the realization hit that Brandon may have taken on more than he should handle when he realized that the top of his head only reached mid -chest or arm pit of Henri Marasme. Suddenly there was a loud scream from Brandon and he was being held closer to Henri than he was just moments ago, with Henri's pants hanging in shreds around his ankles. Brandon attempted to squirm. "MOTHER FUCK! You....shoved your.... .... .... cock up .....my ass....." "Now, Brandonnnnnnnn... ... ... if you'd like to get rid of your problem co-player, look at him and concentrate." "YOU! Shoved your cock....up...my ass!" "Look at him! Don't worry about me and my parts or where they are. Just look at Sebastian concentrate on Sebastian." "Yeah! I see him.... he's looking at us in disgust because... YOU SHOVED YOUR COCK!...." Brandon didn't finish. Instead, over his yelling, Henri looked towards Sebastian and muttered his power word..."sump..." "UUUUH!" Brandon's cock became full erect in his pants. "Shhhhh....say it with me Brandon.... .... Say it with me and stay focused on Sebastian. One... two.... three..." "SUMP" "SUMP" This time it was Sebastian that groaned and the impromptu audience watched as his muscles became a little smaller. "Bast... hon... we need to get out of here. C'mon!" "Look at Mason now... une...duex...tois..." "SUMP" "SUMP" And now Mason slightly wavered in his stance. Brandon seemed to stand up a little taller. "h..h...Hey! This feels kind of good. Not sure about your cock up my ass, but the after affects are feeling amazing." "Good... let's chant some more at those annoyances of yours. Again..." "SUMP" "SUMP" Sebastian attempted to lead Mason away this time, but went down again, shrinking in size. "Again!" "SUMP" "SUMP" "MORE!" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" "SUMP" Over and over again they chanted and they watched as Brandon's form rose higher and higher up Henri's form: arm pit to shoulder top, shoulder top to chin bottom, chin bottom to lips, lips to eyes, eyes to top of head. Breathing deeply, Brandon moaned as his body then continued to grow out ripping and shredding, popping and snapping bits and pieces of clothing from head to toe, until he stood as tall and nearly as built as Henri himself. Clinching his buttocks a bit as he learned to walk with new added mass, Brandon drug Henri over to the lineup area in the dining hall. He too grabbed several metal trays and then proceeded to bend the over. "HmmmmmmmmmmRRRRRRRRRAAAUUUUUUUGH! FUUUUUUUUUCK THIS FEELS GOOD! This feels like power! Like size! Like something I can mother fuckin' deal wi -ITH! AH! AH! AH! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" Suddenly Brandon was spewing more cum out of his pecker than those "peeing-cherub" fountains squirt water on a high pressure day. Henri came as well, up Brandon's ass, although it didn't seem like Brandon minded now. He collapsed behind Brandon at the same time Brandon went down from sheer joy. "There is more than that where than came from Brandon, my muscle mate. You help me track down people and we will become Gods on campus. Titans of the country.... Colossusi of the world!" While they were lost in their ecstasy, Sebastian and Mason made a run for it, heading to the pool and out the back locker room doors. They left much of their clothing behind having become too small for it. Indeed when they pounded on Callum's door, they were in nothing but their jersey or basketball tank top, loose fitting underwear, and socks. Callum happened to be there and was quite shocked when he opened up his door. "Yes, why are you pounding on my....Holy shit! Bast? Mas? you two are only five and half feet tall or so!" "We've got to get inside and change into some other clothes and then find a place to hide!" said Sebastian. "Henri did this to us, but he somehow gave our size to Brandon." "Brandon? Brandon Brockman?" "Yes... ... ... now we have two giants to worry about."

A short story, while I finish writing my complicated novelettes about space marines and magic, respectively. I am testing a little different way of writing technique. DISCLAIMER All protagonists, antagonists and locations in this story are fictitious. Any likeness with actual persons and locations are purely coincidental. Readers uncomfortable with the subject of male intimacy are adviced to not read further. My little buddy I remember when I first saw you. I had probably worked at Sam's Gym for five years, and at The Steel Factory for several yers before that. The Steel Factory Gym, I mean. Not an actual steel factory. Not like dad and grandpa. I am not like my dad. You were standing at a pec-dec machine, reading the instructions. Tracksuit trousers hiding your legs, a grey T-shirt which gave the impression to be one size too large. Your arms just skin and bones, your hands behind your back in a gesture more suitable for a man 30 or 40 years older than yourself. Uncomfortable body language. Sam had pointed me in your direction. 'If you are not going to use it, don't block the machine, small-fry.' It was Kevin, a fairly successful fitness model, whose personality 'didn't keep the same standards as his looks'. I remember this expression. You used it two weeks later. You are better with words than I am, and I know that I am bad at expressing my feelings. I am uncomfortable with it. Kevin wasn't aware of me, when I moved in your direction, and he added some further insults. He jumped when I laid my hand on his shoulder. 'Any problems here?' 'Uh. No, no, Brad. No problems. I just wondered if this gentleman was finished with the pec dec.' 'I have been keeping an eye on you, Kevin. Follow the house rules.' Kevin avoided to look into my eyes, by some reason concentrating very much on the newly painted coffee and amino drink bar. 'Yes, yes of course. No problems here.' I looked quizzically at you, but you shook your head, and looked into the floor. 'You are lucky, Kevin. The machine is at your disposal, since I and my client here are not going to use it.' I turned in your direction, neglecting Kevin: 'And you must be the new gym member I am scheduled to train, aren't you?' 'I suppose so. The man at the desk told me to wait for Brad. It's you?' I like the newbies. They have decided to do something new. Something different. They have decided to change themselves, and put a toe into a foreign water. It is different for us who played sports all the time. It is just what we do: Playing football at the grassy spot close to the council flats, given a try at rugby if the PE teacher make that phone call to the coach he knows. Being adviced to add some weight training, and then being hit by the bug and quitting team sports. I had a belly once. It wasn't necessarily a disadvantage, since weight is an advantage on the ground, but the belly disappeared when I began pumping iron. But I lost the thread now: What I was saying is, that I like the newbies. For us the gym is a second home. For them the gym is something unfamiliar, but they give it a try anyway. They and they... I mean you. You were one of the wide-eyed and shy newbies once. For some it is hard to admit that they like the feeling: The release of your body's own chemicals when you end your training session, and is sitting relaxing freshly showered in the locker room. The feeling of pump. The feeling after a month when the first results show. Three months. Six months. Guys are able to transform themselves. They are not competing against someone else. All of us are just competing against our former selves. I like the newbies: To be able to help them overcome their initial embarrasment and hesitation, and be able to help them to release their potential. I feel protective, as I felt protective against you then. As I still do. Our first training session went well. I instructed you three times the first week. The second week you maintained your own schedule, and then I gave some advice the third week, in order to ensure that you performed the movements without hurting yourself. It takes some time for your body to acquaintance itself to the correct movements. I am no longer able to recollect how it came that we began to hang around outside the gym. In some regards we were unlikely friends: A 5ft 5in university student with liberal middle class parents and a more than 6 ft tall personal trainer with a divorced working class mum. I enjoyed watching action films together with you, and I enjoyed when we just spent time talking. Years ago I spent considerable time drinking beer, but exercise have been increasingly more important for me by the years, so pub crawls are nowadays carefully timed exceptions, far and few between, in order to not disrupt my carefully planned meal schedules. The pub wasn't the best place to meet you. I like our talks. Your eyes have always been special: The mix of intelligence and mischief is nice, and their colour looks like it sparkles in a strange way. I mean 'strange' like fascinating. Not something bad. People of Kevin's sort irritates me. A confident man doesn't behave like that. But it embarras me to admit, that I was like them at early secondary school. If it hadn't been for the PE teacher, the scout patrol leader and Sister Jane, I could have turned out a rotten being. I abhorred (See? You taught me something: abhorred) most adults at secondary school. Abhorred. I will soon start speaking like you and your fancy friends (although I learned PT lingo at the courses Jack and Sam sent me to). Only adults who impressed me were worthy of my attention, and I wasn't easy to impress. The PE teacher was cool. He had competed in weightlifting when he was younger, and despite his intimidating looks, he wasn't an idiot like my considerably smaller dad. Dad had stopped hitting me when I began to play rugby, and the divorce happened shortly after. The scout patrol leader was stern if needed, but he was always fair. And Sister Jane was an unlikely person to feel comfortable with: What does a testosterone crazed teenaged bully have in common with a feminist nun with a Ph.D.? But she had a sense of humour and an ability to understand. I don't know how I shall express it... She understood. I don't know if the three of them had talked with each other about me, or if it just happened by coincidence, but after speaking with them I felt bad and confident at the same time. Bad for what I had done in the past, but confident of what I could do to change things in the future. I was able to apologise to most of the kids, and then on I became their guardian angel. When I saw bullying happen at school, I intervened, and I was good at it. When I met you, it was already ten - no twelve or thirteen - years since I reformed my life to the better. We had known each others for a year or so. Within your personal limits and conditions, your achievements at the gym were good, but not optimal. Since we were friends, I had begun to take an interest in your case which probably exceeded the professional. I felt very worried that night when you rang on my doorbell and stood with a very sad and very upset facial expression at my doorstep. 'What has happened, little buddy? Come inside! You look devastated.' You really looked devastated. All my protective instincts kicked in. I handed you a low-carb amino drink from my refrigerator, and grabbed one myself. We ended up in the sofa, your tiny frame leaning on one arm of the sofa, my bulk relaxing in the opposite end. 'What is it? Did you fail in any exam?' 'No. No, it is nothing like that.' You fell silent for a while. I gave you time, took a sip, and waited. 'I am so sorry to make you disappointed. Please, be not upset about this, but there is something I must tell you. You may find it terrible.' Your sad expression gave me a heartwrenching icy feel in my gut: 'But what is it? You can tell me. We are friends, right?' 'Oh, Brad. I'm so sorry, but I would be dishonest if I... If... If I didn't tell you that I am gay.' I was probably a very bad friend when I exploded in laughter, but I couldn't control my reaction. Several expressions rapidly came and went in your face: Sadness, surprise, resentment and bewilderment (Look! I can use more fancy words!) 'Little buddy. I wasn't sure if you are or not, but does that matter? I'm gay too. Haven't you understood?' I love that facial expression. You are so cute when you do that. My perplex little power hobbit. It was not the last of our very long and very late discussions about personal experiences, straight people's expectations and prejudices, and gay people's expectations and prejudices. Why many of these are wrong or misguided. About closet cases. About bears and the fetish crowd, and how they differ from the twinks. About muscle worship. Your were, and you still are, much better than me to express your feelings in speech, but I was at least, to a certain extent, more experienced than you: After a handful of rather disappointing dates with girls as a teenager, I had a few short encounters with gays my own age at that clubbing street. My muscles seemed to be popular among some, perhaps more so than me as a person. That disturbed me, although I was flattered too in a sense. I don't know. Anyhow, I had hanged around the blocks for a while longer than you, although it would be an exaggeration to call me experienced. It took us two days to admit to each other that we were very much into each other: Your small frame resting in my vein-covered arms, and your cute nose nuzzled at my meaty pecs (of those I was rather proud), our rods enthusiastically bouncing against the inside of our underpants, waiting for all clothes to be taken off. My little buddy. Although your hungry admiration of my muscles couldn't be hidden, now when the lid was off, you always took an interest in me, myself, who I am inside, and I am sorry for not telling you about how I was a bully when thirteen and fourteen. I was ashamed. I knew that Sam would consider it unprofessional to live with one of the gym members, but I was lucky: Jack, who owned The Steel Factory, was an old mate, and wanted me to work for him instead. As soon as I had changed job, we could move to our new flat. Your were delighted at my assistance with new training schedules, eating schedules and supplements, and I felt proud giving you that assistance, seeing how you transformed from your old, shy self with its awkward pose, into a toned young man with a considerably more confident expression. But you were definitely a hardgainer. When you first stepped inside Sam's Gym, you looked like a sea mammal (but without any fat): No visible pecs (just a flat chest) and no visible abs (despite the low level of subcutaneous fat). After one and a half year, your high metabolism had the good side with it, that your abs were visible. They were small, sure, but they were there, and nothing hid their well-defined existence. Your wiry pecs now showed that they existed, but not beyond that. Your exercise had changed your upper body form: Traps and shoulders were distinctly visible in a way they were not before, but you were still at the very slim end of the spectrum. Once my tiny little friend, you were now my little power hobbit. You were a typical ectomorph, but at least I tried to make your calorie intake higher than before, looking for new and fancy nutrition drinks. I have to admit that I had used gear before taking the job at Sam's. Jack and the Steel Factory crowd didn't mind, but Sam had a strict zero level policy when it came to such substances. Back at The Steel Factory, I began hearing rumours about that top secret experiment the Military in several countries had performed on marines: The guys came back from Service like brickhouses, but were forbidden to talk about it. It had obviously started years ago, and pirate copies of the needed equipment had began to circulate on the black market. It was rumoured, that some guards at global corporations had went through the treatment, and another rumour claimed that wrestling federations had made investments in such research, in order to make the business more eye-popping in the future. It wasn't easy to know what was conspiracy theories, what was pipe dreams, and what was true. Until the night I met Tvrtko. He had exercised at The Steel Factory for years, and always been a big guy, but now he was huge. No one dared to ask. Well, except me. He knew me rather well, and he told me. He had probably told me for half an hour, when we made the deal. 'No, there would be no problem with any crime syndicates. It could have been, if you wanted to buy their services in giving you The Treatment... Shady business, you know... But it is entirely different if you buy a second hand machine and give yourself The Treatment. No strings attached. Just buy it, store it where the authorities doesn't look, use it, and if you want to sell it to another user afterwards, it your private matter. It doesn't concern me. Am I clear? Am I perfectly clear?' * * * Your birthday occurred on a Saturday, and there was no need to take the day off. We had the entire weekend for ourself. When you came home Friday evening I gave you an envelope. 'It is better to open it tomorrow, isn't it?' 'No. Open it now.' ' "Do you want to be big?" What sort of question is that? You know that I want to be big. If a miracle could occur, it would be amazing to be tall like you, but I have to limit my goals to pack on some brawn.' You sighed. 'I eat and I eat, and nothing happens.' 'I wouldn't use the word nothing. Think how you looked when I started training you?' 'Yes, there have been some changes, but I am not like my favourite cuddling monster, am I?' Your arms around my waist. Your head against my chest. Your ear against my abs. I was beginning to feel horny. 'No. I mean it. If you really want to become big, that is your birthday present. To begin with, I have a new supplement to you.' 'Another one? Well. You know what you are doing. You've got the PT education.' You let me go when you felt the nice smell of food. I had tried to use the supplements I got from Tvrtko as creatively I could. The spaghetti on the table was a mix of wheat and soy, and therefore with a slightly higher protein content than ordinary pasta, but it was available in ordinary supermarkets. The pasta sauce contained ordinary food, such as mushrooms, spinache and a lot of spices to hide the mildly unpleasant taste. That taste came from the powder I had got from Tvrtko. I had also used it in the sauce which was mixed with the salat, and the pudding in the refrigerator was a mixture of Tvrtko's powder, a milky liquid of similar content, and lots of sugar, vanilla and egg to hide the taste. 'I have used a lot of new supplements in this meal', I remarked. 'You have? It tastes considerably better than some of the gainers you have been feeding me.' 'Ready for your surprise?' 'I thought the new supplements were the surprise, and a slightly underwhelming one.' Oh, how I like that spark in your eyes. 'No, there is more to come, if you really want.' 'I like surprises. You know it. What are you up to?' 'It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you.' Two hours later we sat in the car together, and I drove into an empty parking lot, close to a warehouse. It was dark. The light from the car reflected in the moist asphalt and the rainwater puddles. It drizzled when I unlocked the warehouse. I put a blind before your eyes, and you smiled, when I carefully led you through the warehouse. You seemed to have expected something else, when I removed the blind. 'What's that?' You observed The Machine. According to Tvrtko, it was smaller than the military equivalents, and it required the specimens to drink large amounts of nutrition drinks and nutrition powder a few hours before operation. Tvrtko had heard something about the Army using IV or something. Large gas cylinders were connected to The Machine on the back, and looked considerably newer than the rest of the equipments (Gas cylinders had to be renewed often, and were hard to find). 'It's a muscle enhancing machine. It's your birthday gift.' You looked slightly angry, when you began looking up in the ceiling: 'I expected a surprise party at an unusual location, but now it seems to be candid camera or something like that. Who's hiding and filming this right now.' 'I am perfectly honest. It is a muscle stimulating machine.' It hadn't crossed my mind, that it could be hard to convince you that The Machine was for real. It took a few minutes. I could see and hear how you slowly went from annoyed to surprised, from surprised to suspicious, and from suspicious to something less obvious. 'If you have gone through these lengths to make this possible, I will not disappoint you, but it is hard to believe. How could it possibly be true? Don't you think it feels a little unreal just now? And I am beginning to feel funny, warm or something.' 'It is probably the supplements I told you about. They begin to work now. If we opt out, we will probably gain some muscle and some fat anyhow, but far from the results I have been promised if we use that.' I nodded in the direction of the slightly intimidating presence in the room: The Machine. We stood silent for a few seconds. Then you gave me a sly expression: 'What if you tested the machine first?' It hadn't occurred to me that this was an option. It felt exciting to take part of the experiment myself (I had brought equipment to do that after you), but it was meant as a gift to you. I kept silent. I didn't know what to say. 'It is a double birthday present, if it really works: I have to watch you became even more brilliantly big, which is a really exciting thought, I can assure you, and then I can take part of this experiment myself, if it really works.' Doubt still emanated from you, but mixed with expectations that the impossible would be possible. We went through the operation of The Machine. 'It is obviously a dumbed down pirate copy: You change what you wish to achieve at this panel, and increase power levels at this panel, put the gas on with this control, and this must be a speaker with microphone, so that we can talk. It sounds reasonably simple?' I unpacked the training bags: Towels and soap (The warehose had a shower once meant to be used by workers), tracksuits in large sizes (I didn't know exactly how much The Treatment would affect us) and then two pairs of odd things. I held the posing trunks made of leather before you. You took it in with humour: 'Any new ideas how to kink this up? That's something new!' 'Actually, there is a reason for them. According to Tvrtko, cotton fabrics take fire and synthetic fibres melt inside The Machine. He tested, by putting some piece of clothing inside, since he wanted to avoid 'to look gay', as he expressed it. It seemed to have passed him by that you and I live together.' 'Cotton take fire? And synthetics melt? And we are to believe that human beings are just fine, and don't become radioactive or something else?' We discussed shortly, decided to do it anyway, changed clothes, and prepared for the use of The Machine. I began to feel hot, despite the fact that I was naked. It was probably the supplements that kicked in. The inside of The Machine was spacious enough for four or five persons at least. The walls were covered with some sort of glass lenses or something. Strange equiment hang in the ceiling, but since I am not an engineer, I could not guess at their functions. 'This gives the word closet case a new meaning.', you joked from the outside. The speakers worked. 'Can you hear me?' 'Yes, fine, can you hear me?' 'Yes, perfectly. Good that some things on this wreck works.' The inside smelled rather much like the smell I knew from tanning salons. I could sense a vague hint of smoke, perhaps from Tvrtko's mishap with the cotton pants, but there was also a whiff of cleaning solution. I felt very warm. The posing trunks emitted a whiff of leather. I wasn't normally into leather, but it felt naughty to stand there in the buff, excepting just this small equipment of clothing. Black. Glossy. A hissing sound. 'I opened the gas transmission. Everything alright?' 'I am able to breathe as usual. I tell you if I begin to feel funny.' It felt like ordinary air. Perhaps slighly more... chemical. I took a deep breath. And another one. 'No, nothin special yet. Don't worry.' 'I put the powerfield on now, whatever it is. Are you really sure it is safe?' 'How many times do I have to tell you, taht Tvrtko used it months ago, and haven't suffered any... Ungh!' The powerfield hit me, but in a good way. God! What was that? It felt... Oh! 'Oh, it feels good, little buddy. Everything alright outside?' 'I think so. It looks like you are glowing. It's pretty cool. Just tell me if...' Unh! It felt like my entire body was buzzing. Buzzing of something. Buzzing pleasantly. Buzzing... o my God! 'It's good! It's so... mmmm. You will like it when you... oh. Um!' 'It works, Brad! You are growing! You are actually growing! You look awesome!' I had been proud of my pecs for years, but now they were trembling, while they grew larger. Unlike you, the abs had always been a problem spot for me: They existed, alright, and I had been able to feel their hard presence under my belly fat, and even sense a visual hint of them now and then, but the remaining fat had always hid them from sight. Now, the fat melted away, under the pressure of my scientifically heightened metabolism and the strange God-knows-what radiation that was released into The Machine. The Treatment had begun to race through my body. 'Unngh, Brad. You look incredible! You should be able to watch yourself! I can't take it! It is too alluring! I change the settings, yes changing the settings like this, and this.' 'What are you doing? Ummm. Uh. Safety... ummm, oh! Yes!' 'My cuddling monster is becoming a super cuddling monster. Oh! Look at you! Look at that awesomeness! Did I tell you that these posing trunks actually are beginning to feel comfortable?' Your voice came from afar. My transformation experience was beginning to be overwhelming. I didn't know what settings you may have changed, and what safety protocols you could have disregarded, but I wasn't able to object, since the feeling was so intense: The feeling of growth. My shoulders was becoming volley balls or bowling balls. My biceps swelled into monstrous globes of hot, steel hard flesh, and my triceps turned into corded steel wires. You said something, but I couldn't hear exactly what, since the humming sound from the machine, the hissing gas, the sound of my own pulse in my ears - like a sledge hammer - and the raw feeling of growth all claimed my attention. My thighs became pillars of might. My calves exploded into rugby balls. Rugby balls of granite. My traps, my titanium traps... I felt dizzy, but not in a bad way. My back could now carry the entire world, or so it felt. I dont know how long time had lapsed, when I felt your hand against my abs. One part of my brain probably had a vague idea about us taking turns in the machine, but in my enraptured state I didn't care. You were here, with me, inside The Machine and shared my experience of The Treatment, just as I shared yours. My rod pulsated against the inside of my posing trunks. I could hear you roar, as you shared the effects. Effects of the gas. Of the settings. New settings. What we wish to achieve? Power levels? Of the... POWER LEVELS! It was even better than before. Whatever you had done, The Machine now worked on an entirely new level. I held you, standing behind you, as many times before. My little buddy in front of me. I could nuzzle my nose in your hair. It was just a few months since you changed that old fashionable haircut into a fierce buzzcut. The buzzcut suits you. You look much more masculine in the buzzcut. I let my hands - my growing hands? - rest over your pecs. It was obvious that you were growing just like me, perhaps even more so, since your beginner level was... different. What a pair of amazing pecs you had got! And they were still growing! Is my power hobbit turning into a little Lesukov clone, eh? You shivered. I shivered. And then I felt it: You were growing in every way. You were growing taller. You roared. I nuzzled your buzzcut. My rod had pulsated against your back not so long time ago, but now it pulsated against the hollow in your lower spine, and you were still growing. I had to change the angle I nuzzled your buzzcut. Taller. Definitely taller. My little buddy becoming big. Mmmm. Big. I felt bigger, but you grew faster than me. I liked how you grew faster than me. Birthday present. Power. Mmmm. My big hands explored your abs. They had been defined before. Now they had turned into six cannon-balls of uncrushable might. I shivered again. You groaned. Or moaned. I explored your traps. Massaged them while the new settings executed their work on us. So hard and full. Amazing. Your were now beyond what I was when I entered The Machine, and you were approaching what I was becoming. Still becoming. Both of us. Together. Am I not thinking clearly? Oh, it's so good. So good! The new veins running on your arms. Oh! I shivered. You shivered together with me. I could feel the smell of sweat. Sweat rich of testosterone. And the smell of leather. Warm leather. My big hands explored your hard washboard abs again, and then continued further south. You shivered. I could feel your rod bouncing and pulsating on the inside of the trunks. It felt larger than before. Than ever before. You moaned. You shivered. Your leather trunks ripped apart, unable to resist your tool, giving my unprepared hand a lash. Your body against mine. Hot in every sense. My rod at the height of your diamond hard bum. You shivered. New settings. Of what we want to achieve. And power levels. Power. Levels. It felt so... so... Yes it was filling me. And it was filling you. The Power. All these power bolts! Making our metabolisms to packing on more brawn. More! Power emissions into us. Into our brawn. Bolts. Of masculinity. No, hyper-masculinity! Hitting. Surging. Loading. Beyond physicality. Becoming power beings. Of power muscles. Your back! Now with ridges. Valleys. Hard. Against my chest. My mind-blowing pecs. What are you doing? Turning. Around? Mmmm. What. Are. You. Doing? Trunks. Gone? When? Oh you little... Oh. Um. My big little. Unnngh! Now? During... Treatment? My big little... Oh! Enormous little buddy between my legs. You...kidding? Nnngh. Your titanic traps. My Quads. My gigantic little buddy. Protect. Growing. Power levels. Invincible! Yes! YES! YES! BEYOND ALL REASON! BEYOND ALL

Here are the next two installments of my story, I hope you like them as much as I enjoyed writing them! Parts 1-3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6460-dont-stop-parts-1-3/ PART 4: While Andrew was getting off on his improved physique, Nicole was wondering if she was moving too quickly. She hadn’t counted on him getting taller and more muscular so quickly, but she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t getting off on his improvements too. “Especially,” she though, “his biggest improvement.” She couldn’t stop thinking about how great their sex was and about how much more he was filling her up now than the night before, and she started to get wet. Her hands almost automatically drifted to her dripping pussy and started massaging herself. In almost no time she was moaning and gyrating thinking about how much more Andrew will be changing in just a few hours… Andrew had started masturbating almost as soon as he threw the ruler down on the bathroom floor. His dick felt so much thicker in his hand than before and so much more powerful. He ran his hands up and down his abs feeling the small ridges that he hoped would soon get deeper. He cupped his right bicep with his free left hand feeling how round and hard it was. He could feel it flexing and unflexing as his stroking got faster and harder, thinking about how it could get so much bigger if he started working out more. And just like that he felt a freight train rolling up through his balls and abs until he came all over his bathroom mirror. This wasn’t a small load either. This may have been the biggest load of his young life as he shot six thick streams of milky white cum all over the sink. He almost felt embarrassed that felt as good if not better than the sex he had just had with Nicole a few hours ago, but he chalked that up to having a bigger penis now. Just as he finished cumming he heard Nicole gasp and scream from his bedroom. He ran to her thinking something was going horribly wrong, but when he reached the bed he saw that she was just masturbating and had just orgasmed. In her sex-crazed state she grabbed his still hard dick and pulled him into bed, threw him down, and pulled of his pajama bottoms. She needed to feel his bigger dick in her mouth now, and she knew that she could make it bigger too. Andrew was having the time of his life. Just two days ago he had been a shorter, fatter, less confident student who had never had sex before in his life. Now he had the girl of his dreams pulling his pants off to give him his fourth blowjob in just two days. He had the added bonus of having just cum a few minute earlier, so he lasted a lot longer than usual. He was riding high on endorphins and starting to fall madly in love with Nicole. Everything was going well for him, and he finally felt truly happy for the first time in his life. And with that beautiful thought, he orgasmed. It was so powerful and thick he was afraid he might drown Nicole in his jizz, but she was a trooper and greedily sucked down every sweet drop. Andrew started to sit up once he felt his orgasm finally subside, but Nicole pushed him down again and sexily said, “Oh I’m not done yet, I’m still thirsty.” Andrew was only too happy to comply, although he did think it was a little strange that he could get hard so soon after cumin twice in just a little under a half hour. But once his cock started plumping up in her mouth again, he definitely stopped worrying and started basking in the pleasure she was providing him. The couple only got to sleep an hour later after Nicole had finished blowing Andrew for the fourth time. It seemed to him like she was addicted to his dick, but he had no idea about her ulterior motives. He just knew that he felt completely drained and would need to drink a gallon of water the next day to rehydrate his balls after the epic cumming he had just done. He knew it was 4:30 am, but he didn’t have class the next day, so he turned off his alarm and decided to sleep in the next day. Nicole fell asleep next to her soon to be improved boyfriend wondering if four doses in one hour was too much, but she realized that what was done was done. She was too committed to stop now. PART 5: Andrew woke up, even more peacefully than the day before. He rolled over and saw that Nicole had already left. He reasoned that she probably had to get to lab early, but he was still somewhat disappointed that he didn’t wake up to her gently sucking his dick like the day before. He rolled over on to his other side to check just how late he had slept in. He was shocked to see that it was already 2:00pm. He jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and was about to jump into the shower when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in his bathroom mirror. The first thing he noticed was that his mirror was still caked in his dry cum from last night, but the next thing he notices was that he had transformed even more than he had noticed the night before. He was muscular now. Not bodybuilder muscular, but he could easily get hired as a fitness model by any supplement company. His pecs were round and firm and protruded an inch from his body. He tried flexing them and was surprised when they bounced way more than he thought they could. Looking above his pecs he noticed that his traps had grown significantly and that his neck was almost as wide as his head. His shoulders were so broad he was worried that he might have some trouble going through narrow doors now, and they were large enough that he could easily make out the heads of his delts. Turning his attention to his arms he noticed a large vein crawling over the top of his much bigger bicep. He did a double bicep pose in the mirror and could see nice clean split heads in his biceps. He could also tell that his arms had gotten to be at least 16 inches around (although he made a mental note to actually measure them later). His triceps looked swollen and hung from his arms like fleshy horseshoes. His forearms had also gotten much larger even though they were pretty large to begin with because of Andrew’s masturbation habits. Below his pecs lay a perfect cobblestone six pack with deep ridges just like he had hoped for the previous night. He flexed his stomach hard and could almost make out the beginnings of his last two abs. Even though he was proud of his six pack, deep down he didn’t think it was enough; he wanted his eight pack to show. His legs had finally made considerable gains and now looked thick and powerful. His calves had the beginnings of a strong diamond shape and made his look like he never skipped leg day. His upper legs had a width and thickness to them that made Andrew realize that he could easily be called “thunder thighs” and it wouldn’t be sarcastic. Turning his attention away from his sexy muscles (“Whoa,” Andrew thought, “did I just call myself sexy?”), he noticed he was much hairier than before. His face a nice even coating of five o’clock shadow. He ran his hands up and down his cheeks and felt just how bristly and manly he felt because of it. “I can probably grow a beard now,” he thought proudly. His chest was also covered in a light even coating of soft dark hairs that lead to a confident treasure trail leading to his crotch. His legs were also very hairy now, covered in thick wiry hair that was very noticeable “and very manly,” he thought. He was probably one of the hairiest Asian men that he knew at Cornell, but he still had nothing on some of the White guys who even as freshmen had sported thick full beards and chest hair. “Maybe soon…” he thought. As he looked down at his legs he noticed that the floor seemed farther away than usual. His growth spurt from the night before had dramatically increased his height. Like most kids, Andrew’s mom had kept a height chart on his bathroom doorframe to mark how much he had grown. His mom insisted that he continue the tradition while away from college even though he had almost fully completed puberty by the time he got to Cornell, and as expected, he had only grown a quarter inch in four years. However, this height chart now came in handy as he could easily see that he had grown significantly overnight. Getting out his tape measure he determined that he had grown to be 5’ 9”, an increase of four inches in the past two days alone. He was finally within average height range for men in the U.S. and well above average height for Asian men. All of his changes started to make Andrew aroused which drew his attention to his final change he hadn’t noticed because he was still wearing his now too short pajama bottoms. He almost cried tears of joy after pulling them down to his ankles and looking at his penis. It was magnificent. His ruler told him that he was now 4.5 inches flaccid, but his cock didn’t stay soft for long. It soon jumped to attention and ended up at its new rock hard length of 7 inches with a girth of 5 inches. He could hardly fit his whole hand around it and noticed with great happiness that he could almost fit a second hand on top of the first. All of a sudden Andrew realized that his life had transformed into something perfect and his endorphins rushed. He grabbed his bottle of lotion and begin furious masturbating to his own image. Pictures of Nicole and of their sex flashed in front of his eyes, but he was mostly focuses on the sexy facial hair, the beautiful biceps, his thick thighs, and his big cock. It took him no time to cum, having the greatest orgasm of his life (a feat which he seemed to be achieving every day now). His orgasm lasted for a minute, and his dick never stopped shooting thick ropes of spunk coating every surface in the room. After what seemed like an eternity, Andrew regained sensibility and decided to take a shower. He could clean up the bathroom later. However, his dick had plans of its own and decided not to soften at all. “Well, I guess I have no choice,” Andrew said with a stupid grin on his face. His shower lasted four times longer than normal and he masturbated an extra three times, each time cumming harder than the last. After stepping out of the shower he returned to his bed where he continued his epic jerk off session. He didn’t even look at the clock, he just kept going and going and going. He finally had to stop when he realized he needed to take another shower to clean the cum off of him that his Kleenexes couldn’t get. Looking at his clock now he realized that three hours had passed. Taking about 10 minutes to cum each time, Andrew then estimated that he had just masturbated 18 times in a row without stopping or running out of semen. He knew this wasn’t normal and this shouldn’t be happening, but he didn’t want to stop.

Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part V Part One: https://muscle-growt...-one-by-freaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growt...r-eaky-part-ii/ Part Three: https://muscle-growt...-eaky-part-iii/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6562-umpires-by-f-r-eaky-part-iv/ Henri Marasme. His name would be known to some of the faculty and administration of the college at Strangwich for the odd way he started the semester. His parents deceased, had left him a sizeable fortune as well as a company to run. Being just nineteen years old though, he still needed to get his college education to garner some respect from the employees over whom he was to be boss. Yet, he couldn't just up and leave things unattended, and of course the best laid plans sometimes take longer than one thinks. Such was the case of arranging for a supervisor to act on his behalf while away, yet keep him informed and communicate with him on any major decisions effecting the company. Several of the people chosen before the current man in charge, saw this as a way to steal a company and depose the owner. They soon found not only their careers but their lives destroyed. So, the first few weeks of the semester found Henri viewing lectures and performing assignments on line. An odd arrangement, but made allowable by the president, but only because of a large donation made to the college by Henri. Soon however, everyone would know of Henri Marasme, especially the faculty as they began to doubt their ability to perceive things correctly. It was now Sunday afternoon and Henri was talking a very long and leisurely stroll along many and every path that wound around the quad, one side of the campus and out to the private land that bordered. He surprised many a student as they came around a corner or bend, for Henry was of small stature - saying five foot, but he was actually four foot eleven. He was also very pale and very thin with hair that could best be described as looking like tossed moldy hay. But the really distinct thing about him was that despite his light skin and hair tone, his eyes were very dark. Indeed, they could be described as being almost totally black. But right now most wouldn't notice him for all of the natural wildflowers and trees that grew so high and tall in the patches between the paths. As he made his way around the maze of paths, he happened to walk by two very stout and stalwart men, who were sitting on a cleared grass patch studying a football playbook. "Uuuugh! Santiago, I don't think I'm going to get these memorized." "Well, you need to Blake. Even though we're new to the team, the couch wants us to play in the game the Saturday after next. It's the big homecoming game and he wants to make sure he has some of the biggest players on the field." "Good afternoon, Gentleman." "Uhm... hi." "My name is Henri. I happen to overhear your cry of frustration over memorizing something. I am going to be taking on a job as a tutor, perhaps I can help you." "Oh, well... Nice to meet ya, Henri. My name is Santiago de Silva, and this here is Blake Smythe. Appreciate the offer, but this may not be something in which you can tutor us." "I'm well versed in many subjects. Which one is it?" "Well... ... ... it's a playbook... for football, American football that is." "I see. You're a little behind schedule for studying a playbook aren't you?" "Well...Blake and I are late arrivals to the team. We uh.... ... ... both were originally just going dig into studies and not perform any sports, but due to our size, the coaches kind of begged us to join the team, so we're getting the information a bit late." "I see. Well... if it had been football, I could have assisted with that, but as it is American Football, that is out of my range of knowledge. I won't interrupt your study further. If you ever have need of a tutor for academic subjects, let me know." "Sure... uh...thanks." "Yeah, thanks!" "You're quite welcome." Henri walked back to the path and out of sight, but began to shake as if a cold wind had just blown across his neck. He stood rigid for a moment, after his shake and then whispered to himself. "Yes... ... ... the gypsy woman was right. The enemies of my grandparents have returned home. Those two... ... ... have been touched. I can extract my family's revenge." Walking down some paths that made him nearly circle all the way back around the grassy clearing Blake and Santiago sat in, he then strayed from the trail and cut through the trees and wildflowers to come up behind them. He didn't approach them. He didn't even go into the clearing, but stayed hidden among the trees and shrubs. He did however begin to concentrate. "So...with us moving in like this, and these guys going here, that completes this formation, thus helping make it look like the quarterback..." "dickhead..." "ha ha ha... yeah he is, but stay focused. The moves make it look like the quarterback has passed the ball on to someone next to him hand to hand, but then he will suddenly throw the ball. Think you have that down now, Blake." "Yeah...what I don't have down is blocking correctly. I'm not used to my size and sometimes I can get too rough or not in the right position and hurt people." "That's what we have helmets and pads for, Blake. But, I kind of understand what you're saying. Here, let's get up and I'll show you how it's done, okay." The two men stood up and Santiago crouched down like he was in a line up on the field. "So we crouch down like this, then the ball is snapped, and you're going to run in, shoulders low, like this and.... .ooompf!" Santiago attempted to run but fumbled on his feet and made a face plant into the sod beneath him. "Santi, you alright?" "Yeah, I'm fine... my shoe came off for some reason. Just slipped right off. Help me up, will ya?" Blake grabbed Santiago's hand and helped him to his feet. "Whoa..." "What?" "How tall are you again, Santi?" "Six foot - ten inches tall." "You sure? You look pretty even to me." "Naw man I'm like, five inches taller than you. See." And Santiago moved close to do a hand on Blake's head and move it over to compare motion but suddenly stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck?!? I am as tall as you." "Look at your foot next to your shoe it's so much smaller." "What the hell? They just fit a second ago." "You're shrinking!" "So are you!" "Naw man, see we're still the same height." "Look at your jersey! The hem keeps getting lower and lower on your legs. The pants hem of your jeans is bunching up more and more around your ankles!" "Holy shit, we're both shrinking!" The two men stood there in shock as they watched themselves become shorter and shorter, their clothes gaining in size on them fast . The only thing that gave them some hope was the fact that their muscle size still remained the same comparatively as they shrank. But soon that too was going away. Their marble columns of neck became thin dowel rods. The mountains that were their traps shrunk away to flat plains. The cannon balls that were their shoulders reduced from medicine balls, to bowling balls, to soccer balls, to soft balls, to baseballs, to become just blobs over wire framing like a bendy figure in gumball machines. Their biceps and triceps experienced the same deflation as well as their lats and back and chest. Their abs seemed to get sucked in one by one until all they had was just a plain flat stomach area. The thighs, butt, calves also experienced this sudden case of atrophy. Suddenly the two men found themselves both five feet one inch tall and lucky if they weighed ninety pounds apiece. Blake might have weighed ninety three as he was still heavily endowed, but as their clothes completely slid off of them, both men got to see Blake's elongated schlong suddenly reel in like fishing line until he would now almost need to pee sitting down. "Awwww man, not my cock too." "Blake...dude... what the hell just happened?" "I don't know but we need to tell someone." "Grab your jersey and wrap it around you. We can head for the coach's office." Meanwhile, hidden in the trees, Henri Marasme had just finished his chanting and a wry, pleasurable smile started to form across his lips. "oooooooooooh" His feet began to bunch and stretch. His hands began to throb and reach. His fingers were becoming longer and longer while his palm swelled up thicker and wider. His toes began to make extra ridges along the front of his sneakers. His ankles began to swell out past the top sides of show. His heel was stretching and straining the heel of the sneaker itself. The seams along the sides of the shoe began to pop, while the canvas began to rip. "auuuuughhhhhmmmmmnnnn" Henri raised his hands and stretched as tall as he could and his arms, torso, legs, and neck responded. His straight ahead vision began to rise higher. "ooooooh" Higher..... "Auuuuuuuwwwwwnnnnnmmmmf" HIGHER! Creeping up his arms, the sleeves of his shirt began to reveal this wrists, then his forearms, then his elbows, then his upper arms. It moved in tandem with his pants legs which rose higher and higher to reveal his ankles, his calves, his knees, and then his thighs. Mean while the hem of his shirt and his waist band had to part company as the hem rose higher and higher revealing more and more of Henri's stomach. Taller and taller he grew...four foot eleven to five foot...five foot three....five foot six....five foot nine....six foot.....six foot three....six four...six five....six six....six seven...six eight....six nine... six ten....six eleven....seven foot. Henri stood there panting for moment, looking like a live stick figure, a skinny scare crow with ill fitting clothes. His shirt hung tight on him, but not because of any muscle, just the sheer size difference and body thickness proportionately between a four eleven and seven foot tall body. The same was with his pants. The shirt looked like it was to be a muscle tank, save that the sleeves were still attached they were just attempting to rise and ride on the deltoid area. The shirt hem came down no further than below his chest, almost trying to touch where a first row of abdominals would be. The waist band on his pants were stretched open, the button already having popped off and the zipper pulled open as well. The hem of the pants now rose above the knees and were looking almost painted on. As for the shoes, they gave up the ghost long ago at the start of this growth spurt and his new big dawgs had grown out and over the shoes near complete coverage of them. But this wasn't the end of Henri's growth spurt. Soon he began to twist and turn his feet as if he were trying to perform the dance of the same name. His feet thickened a little bit becoming quite muscular, as a vein rose to the top, under the skin, and began to travel up the leg. Rocking and rolling on the balls of his feet, Henri began to work his calves making them bunch and pop as the veins shot up and entwined around his body like vines on a tree. The calves swelled and shrank...Swelled more and shrank....SWELLED BIGGER and shrank. It was almost as if the calves themselves were breathing and with each breath grew bigger and bigger: a small ball....a hand ball...a good sized diamond...largest diamond in the world....a pulsing heart. "ooooooooooh." Bigger and bigger they swelled as Henri began to do calve raises and then deep knee bends. The veins made their way up...up...hitting the hamstring. "AAAUWCK!" Henri stood up straight, and then went back to knee bends, twisting and flexing this way and that trying to get the tense feeling out of his legs as the hamstring suddenly pulled tight, thickened, and showed massively from knees to butt. It was then encased in the back biceps muscle of the thigh as it mounded and mounded out larger and fuller, harder and thicker. It was joining the front thigh muscles as they began to do a series of roll off. Each tear drop shape suddenly swelling thicker, larger, fuller, rounder, harder! Drops from a water faucet... drops from a garden hose...drops from a fuel tanker.... drops from a fire hose. They were joined by Henri but which began bounce and flex...firmer...tighter...rounder....fuller....bubbling more and more...this was muscle junk trunk. Two meaty, yet solid globes of muscle that could bounce and pop as well as any Olympic sized pectorals. His pants which looked like shorts on him now, could no longer stand the growth. The thighs ripped the seams and several other tears all the way up to the hips. Henri's but split the back wide open. The waistband just barely held together, save for the already popped button and split zipper. Strands of ripped fabric clung to that waistband and hung around, draped over Henri's massive thighs and ass. The effect was such that it looked like he was wearing denim thong with a blue Hawaiian grass skirt, save the grass strands were only around five inches long. "AHHHHHHHhhhhhhh hhhhhhuuuuUUUUUUURK!" Still happening, the growth caused Henri to twist and turn, performing side bends and twists as the veins had risen up and over the many hills and valleys of his thighs, across the groin, and now up his abdominals and obliques. Each twist and turn brought a new brick to the stack. Every bend and twist saw a new row to the washboard. Every crunch and hunch brought out new lines of definition, new bubbles of power, until his whole exposed midsection nearly looked like the Giant's causeway of Ireland. "Wuuuuuuooooh!" Still twisting and turning, contorting and bending, Henri began to roll his shoulders in an attempt to flex his back. As the veins rose up into his lats he began to move his arms as if he were doing a set of dumbbell flies. "oooooh..." His arms began to hang out. "heeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..." His arms rose up. "Huuuuuuuuuuuu...." His shirt hem began to rise up higher and higher. "Huh huh huh huh huh huh" His arms began to stick out almost to the sides! Henri's lats had grown and grown wider and wider and incredibly thick. When the back joined in it looked as though he could jump from a plane and glide safely to earth with the wing span that was being created. His shirt now looked incredible odd, the hem of it on the sides pushed all the way up into the arm pits, while the front was still covering his chest. That however was about to change. Beginning to breathe more rapidly, Henri started to make his chest rise up and then perform something like a crab shot to stretch his back. Back and forth, breath and flex, he made these motions and as the veins travelled up and over them they began to swell. A few breaths here and his chest started to broaden. A few more he almost looked like he had moobs, save their angle wasn't outward but inward. Soon there were two decent and heavy crescents bouncing and bobbing as Henri flexed and twisted his body, but they were quickly replaced with two large slabs. More and more... the shirt hem began to rise up and up further, eventually coming up and off the bottom of Henri's growing pectorals and flashing the world his nipples that were growing larger and firmer as well. More breathing and soon the plates began to look more like two overly sized whoopee cushions, and yet with another few breaths there were suddenly two large round globes where a flat chest used to be. tshhhhhhhst tshhhhhhhst TSHHHHHHHST tshhhhhhhhst TSHHHHHHHHHST TSHHHHHHST! The air was filled with the sound of ripping fabric. The shirt could take it nor more. While Henri's chest had been growing the back had been expanding and widening, growing thicker and more impressive from straight and flat to slightly angled to a v to a w to a Christmas tree. Henri had grown just too big for his once roomy and engulfing shirt. The front and back split in several places leaving Henri with a shirt collar with two sleeves that hung only two his shoulders and strips of fabric creating a matching accessory to his "pants." But that collar was not to last very long. As the veins finished their trek up the chest and back they made their way across the shoulders and the traps and the delts... Those shoulders and traps began to rise...mounds on the plains. Rise... foot hills good for walking. RISE....high bluffs and ridges for looking out over the pec valley. RIIIIIISE!.... mountains that rose to such great heights. R...R...R..RIIIIIIIIIIZE!....Kilimanjaro, Everest.... Henri was going to die as these two slabs of muscle engulfed his neck and head, crushing them both, slamming into each other and pinching off his circulation. But while they were growing his delts were growing too... inflating more and more...increasing in size and density: a little party balloon. shhhooooop....a mylar birthday balloon. Shhhooooop.....a large water balloon. SHHHHOOOOOOP....a punching balloon. SHOOOOOOOOP! A hot air balloon! Rip! TSSSHST! Strip! RIP! The air again was filed with sound as the delts shredded what was left of Henri's diminutive sleeves. In a few minutes more there was the pop of the collar as Henri's neck ballooned from stick to dowel rod, dowel rod to post, post to club, club to column, column to pillar. So thick it had become, in proportion to the rest of his muscles, that even for a seven foot tall man it was almost impossible to believe he had a neck. "HHHHRRRRRRRR!" Henri now snapped his torso backwards and extend his arms out at his sides while making a fist and flexing. The veins now wound their way down his upper and lower arms and the simply inflated on the spot. The bunching, the flexing, the growing, as the tiny bellies became larger balls, which in turn became mammoth mounds, and those gave way to popping peaks and finally to another set of rising mountains which were complemented by hanging horseshoes which resembled more of the underside of an iceberg ready to cut through a ship. Letting his arms now fall and... at least attempt to hang at his side, Henri stumbled and fumbled a bit walking around trying to walk off and shake off all the intense feeling of his growth. He needed to get adjusted to the size of his thighs, to the weight of his whole body, to the size of his feet, to width of his shoulders and arms, to the height of his head. But that would have to wait as there was still one more bit of growing to do. "UH-huuuuuuuuuuuuuuhuhuhuuhuhuhuhuhu..." Now stretching backwards and thrusting his hips to doubling over in front, back and forth, back and forth, Henri attempted to get rid of the tingling sensation in his balls, but it would not subside. Tears coming to his eyes, more and more pressure began to be places upon his testicles. His scrotum began to feel confined and pinched. It was almost as if an ice pick was being slowly pushed through that spot, and yet...he felt so virile, so manly! More and more he thrust his hips and bent over until finally, the front and under seam, just under the zipper gave way. "Uwaaaaaaah!" It was the only thing keeping what was left of Henri's pants onto his legs and crotch. As it snapped and fell away his two boys dropped free from the prison hanging just slightly low, very tight, and a bit large -even for a seven foot tall man. "Ah-huuuuhuuuhuuuhuuuhuuuuu!" Henri moaned and smiled as now that there weren't any clothes on his groin anymore, his cock just suddenly grew and oozed out of him like the lava flows underwater at a volcano site. It just seemed to keep growing and growing and growing out of him getting thicker and longer, bigger and meatier as the veins made their way across it. The feeling created a sense of pleasure so erotic to Henri he became aroused and as his cock continued its growth it began to become erect showing its true size. Four inches...five... six....eight...ten....twelve...fourteen...fifteen...sixteen...sixteen and three quarters... seventeen and a half...eighteen.... Eighteen inches of man meat now swung in front of Henry. It was so long and heavy it pulled on his groin tremendously making him even more aroused and horny. It was a full on erection, no doubt. Henri thought he might be able to fell a tree with this club, but it wouldn't stand at attention due to it's incredible size, just stick straight out and bob whenever a rush of blood came through it. Henri immediately took a massive hand to it, surprised even his own hand couldn't quite go all the way around it. He began to stroke himself and smile. "Hmmmmmmm soooo big.....so huge.... but this is just the beginning. I will get larger.... HOO! HUH huh huh huh huh hmmmm yessssss..... big-HIG-ger.......ah ah ah ah ah aha ooooh yes...bigger...stronger...larger...thicker...taller...harder... massive...mega...muscle gawd just... JUST... get-TING...HO! ...even...Even.....EVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!... .... .... .... BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Henri blew a load right there that was so powerful it hit a tree, shot a small hole into it, and then the splatter from the blast pattern coated so many of the surrounding tree trunks and wildflowers that until it dried, one would almost look at it and think it had snowed. His scream of ecstasy was also loud enough that some students reported a bear being in the woods along the pathways. After his toes had stopped uncurling and digging into the ground, and he stood up from his knees giving way during the spurting of his load, Henry stood up and walked into the clearing and picked up Santiago's jeans that he had left behind. Putting them on, he had trouble getting them over his thighs, but no trouble at all getting them buttoned at the waist. Looking down at his legs and feet he noticed that the hem of the pants stuck up over his ankles just a tad. "Oh yeah.... this is going to be good. Hmmmmmmnnnnn!" Squatting a little Henri caused the seams of the pants to rip slightly at his thighs. Feeling a bit more room to walk in these pants now more freely, Henri smiled and walked to his dormitory. "Yes.... this is going to be really good."

Hey everyone! This is my first story, but I've been reading the work on this forum for years now. I was finally inspired to write my own story, so I hope you all like it! These are the first three parts in what may end up being a long story, so let me know if you have any suggestions for directions to take in the next parts. There isn't any growth in the first part, but stick with it, this story is going to get juicy... Don’t Stop PART 1: Andrew woke up from his nap feeling refreshed and ready for his date that night. It had been weeks before he had finally worked up the courage to ask Nicole out, but he knew he had to give it a try before it was too late. They were both in their final year at Cornell and were at the top of their class, Andrew majoring in biology with a focus on human physiology and Nicole majoring in toxicology. Andrew was practically sweating out of his skin earlier this morning during biology lab, but all of his nervous planning paid off. She had said yes, and not just any yes. She seemed genuinely happy and excited to go out with him. Her excitement was only matched by his relief. With all the thoughts of Nicole running through his head, Andrew understandably had a “little” problem in his boxers, so he decided to take care of it before picking Nicole up. He pulled off his shorts and threw them hastily on the floor letting his four inch dick stand up proudly from his lap. Andrew knew he was under the national average in penis size, but as a Chinese man he had grown up accustomed to people making fun of his size and ancestry. Personally, his size didn’t really bother him too much, but he had always wondered what it would be like to be bigger. Not only that, but Andrew was not the tallest or most fit person at Cornell. He was only 5’ 5” tall and had just the slightest hint of a tummy bulging out from under his T-shirt. He had very little facial hair, and almost no body hair to speak of either. Despite his mental acuity and high academic achievements, his physique had always held him back from ever asking a girl out. Except for until earlier this morning. Although he had never had sex with a girl before, he had no shortage of sexual fantasies to play in his head as he was jerking off. Kissing Nicole at her doorstep, coming up for “coffee”, undressing her, seeing a vagina and breasts in person for the first time, sucking on one of her nipples, penetrating her with his rock hard… and with that Andrew exploded all over his sheets. He couldn’t believe how intense his orgasm was and how much he had cum (much more than ever before). He could have lay there for hours basking in his post-orgasm bliss, but turning over he noticed that it was already almost 7pm. He quickly jumped in the shower, cleaned himself off, grabbed his car keys, and sprinted out the door. He made it to Nicole’s apartment just in time. She walked out of the house looking so good Andrew thought his eyes would literally pop out of their sockets. A backless dress, stilettos, and a nice long leg slit made Andrew wonder how long he would be able to hide his erection. “You look amazing,” he said to Nicole as she got in the passenger’s seat. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she replied with just the slightest hint of a wink. “So where are you taking me tonight?” “I thought we could go to a movie and then grad dinner if that’s ok with you,” Andrew stammered nervously. “I mean, we can definitely do something else if you don’t want that. Or whatever, I don’t really care,” Andrew finished with a whimper. Nicole of course loved this scared puppy demeanor, it was what had made her interested in Andrew for the past year and a half. “Movie and dinner sound great!” she said. And it was great. They went to an old classic movie theater and watched Casablanca which he thought was great but she thought was a little too cheesy compared to the modern style of movies. Then they went to a little French restaurant where all the cooking was done by two old French grandmothers who were experts at making boeuf bourguignon. They realized that they actually had a lot in common aside from a mutual physical attraction and ended up leaving the restaurant holding each other’s hands. Finally, they ended up in front of Nicole’s doorstep. Andrew was both terrified and extremely excited to get his first kiss. He leaned in ever so gently and kissed her on the cheek. After a brief silence, Nicole turned to him and said, “Why did you stop?” The two then kissed passionately, sparks flying and fireworks dancing behind their eyes. After what seemed like an eternity Nicole spoke up again, “It’s a bit chilly outside right now, do you want to come up for some coffee?” Andrew’s jack off session started playing through his head again and he found himself thickening to his full four inches. “Definitely. I don’t want this night to stop.” PART 2: Nicole and Andrew couldn’t keep their hands off of each other as they ran up the stairs to Nicole’s bedroom. They tried to be quiet so as not to wake up Nicole’s roommates, but their moans and groans could not be stifled. They made it to the top of the stairs, burst through her bedroom door, and collapsed on her bed. It took no time for Andrew to remove Nicole’s shirt and bra, but it did take him a while to stop marveling at the first pair of boobs he’d ever seen. Nicole meanwhile pulled down Andrew’s shorts and underwear allowing her to stare and Andrew’s erection, the first erection she had ever seen. The two virgins wasted little time trying to throw off those titles as Nicole smoothly guided Andrew’s throbbing cock to her wet pussy. Andrew’s fantasy was finally coming true. He could feel every glorious second of his first penetration, her velvet walls enveloping him in a feeling of utter pleasure. It took everything he had not to cum right there, but he managed to hold on and start thrusting. Andrew’s thrusts were understandably weak and inexperienced, but he soon got into the swing of things. He was able to notice what Nicole liked and what she didn’t like as much (although to be honest she was enjoying everything a lot) and adjust his thrusting style to make her moan more and more. After a minute or so Andrew couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the best moment of his life building in his balls, churning up through his core, and eventually erupting out of him like a primal roar. He screamed as he emptied his balls into Nicole which in turn triggered her orgasm. The two then collapsed on top of each other, panting furiously, silly grins spread wide across their faces, virgins no more. Andrew was on fire. His boner showed no signs of going away, and Nicole was only too happy to help him out. In his post-orgasmic haze he hardly even noticed her putting on some chap stick before taking his whole cock in her mouth in one go. “Oh baby my dick is going crazy!” he screamed. Her response was limited because his dick was in her throat now, but she managed to look up at him and wink in her special subtle way. Andrew continued to moan as Nicole went to work on his rock hard shaft and as her throat massaged his sensitive head. He lasted for a surprisingly long time (but still only a few minutes) before he managed to choke out, “I’m cumming!” He poured his load down her throat, and she greedily drank it down with no problems. This orgasm was so much more intense for Andrew than the first one. It was so intense in fact that he passed out soon after the biggest ejaculation of his life. As he drifted off into sleep he remembered thinking about how rude it was that he didn’t go down on Nicole, but those thoughts were soon replaced with dreams and fantasies replaying the past half hour all night long. The last thought he had before succumbing to sleep’s welcoming embrace was, “I hope this perfect feeling never stops.” PART 3: Andrew woke up from his perfect dream to the perfect view. Nicole had woken up a few minutes before him and had started to massage his morning wood to get it ready for some morning sex. Andrew couldn’t believe that he had had sex last night. He woke up feeling very refreshed and yet super horny. He also felt like his dick was about to explode out of its skin. As soon as Nicole sat on top of him and guided his cock into her open hole he forgot all about how weird it was that his dick felt bigger and instead started to ride the towering waves of pleasure he was experiencing. He came with a roar just like the night before, but this time he felt like he shot by far the biggest load of his life into Nicole’s quivering vagina. Unlike the previous night, Andrew decided to reciprocate the oral sex Nicole had given him. This was the closest he had ever been to a vagina, and he relished every second of it. She tasted so sweet and smelled so good he wondered if she had added any perfumed product around her vagina to make it taste like that. He felt like he could keep eating her out for hours, and by the sounds of her intense moans and gasps it sounded like she could go forever. However, after about fifteen minutes, Nicole’s alarm went off signaling that it was time to get ready for class. She hopped in the shower leaving Andrew to bask in the sunlight streaming in from the window… Andrew woke up to a sudden pain in his balls. He looked over the blanket to find a larger tent than he used to pitch. He ripped the blankets off the bed and stared at his dick. “There’s no way it’s still just four inches long,” Andrew mused to himself. It looked to be at least an inch longer than it used to be and maybe a hair thicker, although he wasn’t sure about any of it. “Maybe a trick of the late morning light,” he thought, although he secretly hoped he actually had grown. As he got up from the bed he noticed he felt a little off balance and dizzy. “That’s strange,” he thought out loud, “I thought I was finished growing taller years ago.” That wasn’t the only thing that had changed though. He also noticed he no longer had a chubby stomach. In fact, he could almost see the faintest outlines of his abs. Lastly, he noticed dustings of hair on his legs and the barest hints of a mustache coming in. “Finally,” he said, “I haven’t been able to get any facial hair no matter how many growth products I’ve tried.” He chalked up his increased masculinity to the fact the he had just lost his virginity and that his testosterone must be pumping in overdrive. Somewhat concerned but happy with his new appearance, Andrew decided to go home, change, and head off to class. He had a hard time focusing on anything though and spent most of the time texting with Nicole. She was only too happy to text back: A: Last night was fun right?! N: LOL yeah totally. And this morning A: Best alarm clock ever hahaha. After waiting a few minutes: A: How would you feel about round three tonight after dinner? My place? N: Sounds delicious. I’ll be over as soon as I’m done in lab! A: Awesome, I’m thinking about cooking sausage for dinner ;P And so with that Andrew ran to the supermarket to grab the ingredients he needed to make the best sausage paella Nicole had ever tasted. He also grabbed a pack of regular condoms and some lube (just in case she was more adventurous than he had hoped for). Dinner was delicious, and afterward they decided to relax and watch a movie together. Except that by the end of the first thirty minutes both of them knew that the other didn’t really want to finish the movie. Nicole stood up and straddled Andrew catching him a bit off guard and firmly kissing him. After a few minutes of making out Andrew asked, “What flavor chap stick is that?” “Oh do you like it? Some of the grad students in my lab are focused on making entirely non-toxic cosmetics and they said I could take a tube to try!” Nicole replied before diving back in for another kiss. Truth be told, Andrew really did love the taste of the chap stick and wanted more of it. Kissing didn’t last long though before the couple decided to ramp things up. Andrew ripped off Nicole’s shirt, happily surprised she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nicole in turn completely undressed Andrew and admired his new masculine traits. “Wow, I thought you had a little bit of a tummy last night,” she teased. “And the leg hair, I’m a huuuge fan. Emphasis on the huge which by the way…” she said looking aright at his fully erect cock. She could tell it was bigger than last night, and she needed it inside of her right away. She started sucking him off and could tell he was enjoying it by how loud and frequent his groans were becoming. For someone who had never given a blowjob before last night she was very talented. The pleasure soon became too much for Andrew to bear, and he shot at least five times down her expectant throat. He was just getting started. Andrew quickly led her to his bedroom, and Nicole threw him on the bed. Her pussy was on fire and it was not going to be satisfied until she and Andrew shared an orgasm. He mounted her and rapidly thrust his newly grown cock deep into her pussy. He could feel he had grown a little bit, the way her vagina felt tighter and the way his head felt bigger and more sensitive. He began jackhammering quickly in and out of her, pulling out completely before each thrust to feel the maximum effect of continuous penetration. Nicole meanwhile was just mouthing “oh god yes, ohhh so good” after having screamed so much she literally became speechless. Andrew on the other hand felt like a real man for the first time in his life. He grunted powerfully and felt completely in control. She had already orgasmed and he was proud that he had held off for so long already. However, just as Nicole was nearing her second orgasm, Andrew felt his balls begin to tighten and felt the familiar rush of energy through his core. And then they came together and it was beautiful. Nicole’s sex was undulating so much Andrew almost fainted from the amount of stimulation his head was experiencing. It seemed to last forever (and they both wanted it to last forever too), but all good thing must end eventually. They finally stopped convulsing and collapsed into each other’s arms. Both were too exhausted for words, but they cuddled together until they peacefully fell asleep. Andrew woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and almost tripped over his own feet trying to get there. He finally made it to his mirror and turned on the bathroom light. “What the fuck is happening to me?!” he gasped. Staring back at him from the mirror was still Andrew, just an improved version. His mustache had thickened and was becoming darker and more noticeable. He even had several dark hairs on his chin and a few thin dark hairs beginning to sprout on his chest near his nipples. Looking down he noticed that his shirt was fitting him better so he removed it to find out what was hiding underneath. He gasped again after seeing his newly defined muscles. His pecs were still pretty small, but there was a noticeable separation between the two and they protruded a bit from his body when he stood up straight. His arms were looking pretty good too, and when he flexed them he could see small golf ball sized mounds where he knew his biceps and triceps were. He also definitely had abs now, although they were the kind of abs that skinny people have because they have no body fat. Looking past his abs he could see that his thighs and calves had also bulked up, but not to anything truly spectacular. It merely looked like he enjoyed running every now and then. But the thing that really shocked him and made him gasp for a third time was what he saw when he took off his underwear. His flaccid penis which had previously only measured two inches long was definitely bigger. He wanted to know exactly how much bigger, so he snuck back into his bedroom to grad a ruler from his desk and then returned to the bathroom to measure himself. Three inches soft. He was overjoyed, and his dick began to harden thinking about his new growth spurt. He began stroking himself to reach full erection so he could measure just big he had become. Once he was as hard as an iron rod he found that he was five and a half inches long. Now remember, Andrew was a biology major with a focus on human physiology, so he knew this shouldn’t be possible. However, he wasn’t thinking about how illogical this all was or how improbable these changes were. He wasn’t even thinking about why this was happening. All he could think about was that he didn’t want this growth to stop.