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Hi all. I am a loooooooong time lurker (maybe around 15 years). I have written a lot of short stories over the years. One of my original inspirations was O's artwork on cyoc and BBMSN's stories. More recently my inspirations have been the work of gitbigger (rest in peace) and scriptboy. Anywho, I decided to finally join and post one of my stories that I have been working on. I really have no idea whether it is any good, but I hope someone at least gets some enjoyment reading it. The events in this story are very loosely based on truth. I do have a friend that the character "Mikey" is modeled after. I added the "brainwash" tag since the characters cannot perceive reality. Game Nights Part 1 - Introduction I used to go over to my friend Mikey's house every Friday for game night. I was a pretty big guy - 6'5" and 270 pounds. I carried my weight well, as most people would tell you that I weighed 190. It always annoyed me that people thought that I was smaller than my actual weight. Unfortunately for Mikey, he did not carry his weight well. He was only 5'2, but weighed 200 pounds. I envied his body shape since we first met. My body shape had always been an enigma. I was tall and had somewhat lanky arms and chest like an ectomorph, but my shoulders were not much bigger than my wide hips similar to an endomorph. You might say that I was cross between a triangle and rectangle. If I gained any more weight, I would look sloppy with fat just hanging from my stomach, legs and hips while my upper body would maintain a slender look. Mikey was more of an apple. He had wide shoulders and narrow hips. I always surmised that he was a mesomorph that just had gained too much weight. Of course I had not measured it, but have often wondered if his shoulders were actually wider than mine (even with being over a foot shorter). His gut was more like a ball. Instead of hanging like mine would at that size, it defied gravity and just stuck out in a big rounded shape. Any shirt he wore always had trouble since his wide shoulders begged the shirt to be pulled upward with any motion and the gut was somewhat happen to get the stretched fabric off of it. I got on to a health kick after around three years of game nights. Mikey said that he wanted to work at his waistline too. They always say that apple shapes are more prone to heart disease so shrinking the waist-to-hip ratio would definitely be in his favor. Seeing him every week, it was really difficult to tell whether he was successful or not. It wasn't until I looked at an older social media picture that I was able to see a difference. His waist did not look any smaller, but he definitely looked healthier, if that makes sense. Another couple of weeks went by and we found ourselves chatting before starting to play some games. We were in his kitchen prepping some snacks. Apparently his eating habits hadn't changed that much, but he definitely looked better than even the picture from two weeks prior. When he turned and bent into the refrigerator, I finally saw something that had definitely changed. Mikey had always sported a plumbers crack whenever he bent over because those narrow hips provided nothing for his pants to hold on to. He still had the crack, but the shape was different - highlighted by the presence of glutes. Not that I check out my friends' butts, it is just something you notice when someone bends over in front of you. When he stood up and turned around, I finally figured out why he looked healthier. He had a ruddiness about him. His chest and arms were a little bit more muscular than before and he filled out his shirt in more ways than just his gut. The normal movements that might have caused the shirt to ride up were stabilized a little by his chest sticking out. I did not really notice anything more for the next few weeks. Though, I confirmed the ruddiness by looking at previous pictures again. He definitely had slightly bulkier muscles than pictures from the last month and especially when compared to pictures more than three months old. One of the game nights he was happy to see me after a tough week and gave me a hug as a hello. It turned out that it was Mikey's birthday and I was happy to oblige. His slightly spikey hair brushed my chin. He had hugged me as a greeting or to say goodbye after events before and I always leaned over to pat him on the back. I tried to picture why I would lean over so much before when I was only a head taller. I just shrugged it off. At another game night, Mikey decided to wear one of his older shirts from his college days - it looked like it might have fit better fifty pounds ago. It was stretched pretty tight around his shoulders and chest. His arms caused the sleeves to roll up to the bottom of his delts which highlighted their round globular shape. He kept pulling on the shirt, but it would not go below his belly button. Without even bending over you could see his ass crack. But it had two mounds shoved into his pants. You could see that the waist on his pants was tight as it squeezed his glutes. He wanted to pull them up, but his belly wouldn't have it. At the next game night, he wore an even smaller shirt. In this one, his belly button was fully exposed. Depending on which way he turned and shadows hit him, you could see somewhat of a turtleshell pattern forming on the exposed skin. A couple of months later he must have finally gotten off his college clothes kick. His shirt was long enough, but still filled out at the chest, shoulders arms and gut. The following month, i could have sworn that he was wearing the same shirt. This time, it was just barely covering to the bottom of his belly. In addition, the seams at his shoulders looked a little frayed and even separated a little from moving around during the night. I stayed and chatted for a while to see how he was doing. After a couple of hours, it was late and I had to leave. Mikey decided to hug me goodbye. As his arms swung around behind me, both sleeves ripped. Mikey was surprised by the feeling and turned quickly. His noise bumped my chin, and both of us laughed about it. Something was bugging me about the sleeves ripping. Mikeys always had wide shoulders for as long as I had known him. He was the type of guy that always had his arm up on the seat next to him in a car or at a table - probably to make sure his shoulders were not intruding on someone else's space. So knowing his own body, why would he buy a shirt that is tight in the shoulders? I looked at all of the pictures over the past few months and found that he had relatively the same proportions in every one. It was quite odd. Two weeks later, Mikey turned at one point in the game. From my vantage, his chest was almost protruding out as much as his gut. When he turned back, the shirt pinched inbetween the pecs and stomach. I could then see that his pecs had become big globes. In addition another friend who was a former football player came by to play. He was sitting next to Mikey and across from me. Mikey's arms actually looked bigger. I am not sure how much bigger, but the stocky friend had to have measured at least 18 inches and upwards around 20 inches. It was tough for me to judge shorter people's arms since mine were over 18 inches and his looked bigger because of his shorter limbs. It was then that it dawned on my that Mikey was wearing a much bigger shirt than before and yet the arms were still highlighted by the tight sleeves. The tag was sticking up slightly and i was able to nonchalantly see that it was an XXXL. It is so funny how different manufacturers cut things. I wore XL at 270 and his 3x looked like it was a tad too small in some areas. As we were saying goodbye, I found myself staring straight at his hairline on his forehead. I thought i used to see the top of his head. But that couldn't be right. We had to cancel game night for a few weeks because of severe weather in the area. Mikey and i still chatted online. He said that he was still trying to trim his waistline but nothing was working. It was actually up ten inches from when he started. I sent him a couple of pictures showing comparisons and told him that he still looked the same but with bigger muscles. Whatever he was doing was working. That was encouraging enough to keep him going. =========== A couple weeks turned into a month. A month turned into over a half a year before I saw him again. You know how it is when you get out of the habit of doing something - the longer you put off doing it, the harder it becomes to do it again. He wanted to celebrate his birthday with me again. When he opened the door, we were looking at each straight in the eyes. He was wearing the same shirt from the last time (~7 months prior), although it totally shrunk in the wash. I smiled to myself thinking about how he needed to learn to hang his cotton shirts instead of drying with heat. That was something I learned a long time ago, #tallpeopleproblems. It was a wonder that Mikey hadn't figured it out considering we were the same height. Or actually, our eyes were level, but the top of his head was maybe 2 inches above mine. Mikey's neck was maybe half as long as mine and our shoulder were probably close to the same height. I immediately noticed that the sleeves on the shirt were gone and little tears were at the shoulders coming inward. The shirt was no longer stretched at the waist, although his gut still appeared to be the same proportion. The bottom of the shirt only reached to his belly button so i could definitely see the gut still there and it just barely protruded on the shirt hanging over it. Instead, the top of the shirt was painted on to his chest and hanging somewhat loosely down. It definitely was odd that the shirt shrunk in the dryer but still maintained the same waist. He gave a big smile and hello, with an emphatic hug just like at his last birthday. When he did this, the shoulder and trap movement forced the shirt to ride all the way up and wedge under his pecs, revealing the solid turtle shell underneath. You could slap that belly and there wouldn't even be a ripple. All that was left covered by the shirt was his chest. It looked like two volleyballs stuffed into a pillow case. Mikey didn't seem to notice that his shirt had ridden up as he turned to walk over to the couch. I had never seen his full back before - just his lower back from shirts riding up as he would bend over. That instance I got to see almost all of it. When the shirt had ridden up, it also wedged into his armpits. It wanted to take the path of least resistance and completely exposing his lats was much less strain than being pulled and stretched over. I was a little shocked at how much his back flared out from his waist. Isn't it funny how some fat people look like they have an incredible v-taper from the back? You would never expect that he had a big gut until he turned to the side or faced you. I looked down and chuckled at seeing his underwear exposed. His pants were always drooping somewhat, showing the plumber's crack and portions of his underwear. Even when he pulled up his pants in the past, they almost immediately fell back down again. In this case, he must not have even bothered pulling them up since the top of the pants were beneath his bubble butt. Didn't I say earlier that his narrow hips didn't give pants anything to hold on to? Why would I have thought that when his oversized glutes could have held them up. Briefly my brain also wondered whether he could even have pulled up the jeans since they looked completely stretched over his quads as it was. Looking down further, the jeans left a good 5 or 6 inches exposed from his ankle up his leg. The bottoms of the jean legs were stretched to the maximum below his calves. So that must be why he didn't try to pull them up - there was no way any more of his legs would even fit. I always preferred loose fitting khakis to jeans so I never run into that issue. You would think that 3/4 length jeans would have had wider legs. My gaze was drawn back up as I entered the house and shut the door behind me. His thighs forced him to roll each leg over each other as he walked. This cause his glute to completely flex and then bounce on top of his jeans with each step. The boxer briefs containing them did not cover all the way to the top. You could see the top 3 or 4 inches where the glutes inserted into his pelvis. The top of the boxer briefs stretched over the glutes didn't even make an indentation. Traveling further up I noticed something odd about his head. First off, I could not even see his neck since his traps rode all the way up to the base of his skull. Even the bottom of his hair line was distorted into 3D as it curved out on the the traps. But still there was something odd. I silently did that thing where you mimic taking a picture with your hands. I cropped out most of his body and just showed his head in my field of vision. It looked like it was almost double the size of my head. He always had a wider head that me from being overweight, but this was bigger in all directions. I lowered my hands and stopped walking. He turned around at the couch and noticed me staring quizzically. He asked me what was up. I took a moment to consider the previous pictures I had looked at. His head was exactly the same proportion to his body as always. In fact, his entire body looked exactly the same in proportion except for the increased muscle mass. I cannot even remember exactly what I replied with, but it was something about how he looked good with more mass even though he was having trouble shrinking his stomach. Just from the increased muscles, it already gave the illusion of a smaller gut. He got a big grin on his face and patted his stomach. My earlier assumption turned out to be correct, it did not even jiggle slightly. Mikey did, however, feel that his shirt had ridden up. He exhaled fully and sucked in his gut to pull down his shirt - the way normal people do when they are trying on pants that are obviously too small. When he did this, his entire stomach tightened into corrugated muscles. His obliques popped out through the skin, perfectly framing a massive brick wall of abs. They were the most spectacularly shredded abs I had ever seen, which is quite a sight on someone trying to trim their waistline. His abdomen tightened so much that it was easily smaller than my 39" waist. He held that pose for a good 30 seconds struggling to pull the shirt out from under his armpits and pecs. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tightly flexed muscles. By the time he finally got the shirt pulled out, his waist looked like it was 2 or 3 inches smaller than a few seconds ago just from being tensed so much. He let the air rush back into his lungs and released the tension in his abdomen. Without actually taking measurements, his full sized gut also looked slightly smaller than when I first walked in. Actually, his gut wasn't even pressed up against the shirt anymore and the fabric just completely hung off of his pecs. Mikey crashed down into the sofa seat, a tad winded from the struggle and holding his breath. Finally, I got a visual on his gut again in the seated position otherwise I would have exclaimed that it magically vanished. I sat down beside him on the couch. Or a better description would be that he took up one and a half sofa cushions and I sat on the third one. He put his arm up on the back of the sofa like he always did and his hand stretched out reached almost past me on the other side. I also realized that he was basically sitting on the couch in his boxer briefs since his pants were not pulled up, but it was his couch so he could do whatever he wanted. Spurred on by what I just witnessed, I talked to him about doing stomach vacuums to help exercise the core. I also mentioned that they usually help shrink the waist by a few inches. He accepted the proposition and promised that he would try it out. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful - we watched a movie, played some video games and drank a few beers (me only a couple early on since I would be driving later on). Every breath and movement he took during the night, made the shirt creep up again. It made it up under his pecs and armpits about halfway through the evening. By then, he had had too many beers to notice or care. Game Nights Part 2 - Wardrobe Limitations One thing I haven't mentioned so far is that Mikey and I both worked from our homes. I had a small home business run out of my tiny apartment and he did hourly work dealing with global supply shipping and logistics. He moved into a new house before I started wanting to get healthy. It was actually on his moving day that I got inspired and then mentioned it a couple of weeks later. I heard that his housing community had a gym in it, and just assumed that Mikey was working out there. Working from home, he rarely went out (especially after trying to get healthy). Anything he wanted, he would just order it online and get it delivered. That was probably one of the reasons that his clothing never seemed to fit exactly right, because he would not have tried it on before buying. After the birthday, it was another 9 months before I saw Mikey again - just around his two year anniversary in the house. After much coaxing from me, he finally started up game nights again. I got pretty lucky with traffic heading over to Mikey's house. I also left earlier than normal in my eagerness. I wound up arriving 45 minutes before our scheduled time. I knew that he would just be getting off from work. I texted en route and let him know that I would just chill out while he did whatever he had to do. I was shocked when he opened the door in just his boxer briefs. He had a towel in his other hand and was rubbing his hair to dry it more. He had just gotten out of the shower and had not known about the text. My eye level was a little above mid-pec. The left pec was stretched upward connected to his arm drying off his hair. The right pec was just a huge and round - soccer ball? no... basketball? no... Maybe a smaller sized yoga ball would be about right for a description. I took a step back from the door to get a better overall view. His proportions were a little bit off. Obviously the enlarged pecs were a change, but I mean the head-to-shoulder-to-waist width-to-hip width proportions. His hips still had that narrower than they should be look to them. His shoulders were definitely wider, but that could just be from the bowling balls stuffed into them. His waist width looked comparably about the same as before. I guess the proportions were about the same and the increased overall mass just gave an illusion. He looked at me with a little bit of concern and asked what was wrong. I shook my head and told him that he was looking really good and I just wanted to take it all in. He just smiled and laughed, stepping to the side to let me in. Even with him to the side, I had to maneuver a bit to get through the door before he closed it behind me. As I walked into the room, I finally realized what was so off with his proportions. He had the proportions of a short guy - where his torso was longer than his legs. It was quite odd since he had at least 15 inches in height on me. His legs looked like they were a tad shorter than mine, but his torso was where he made up a foot plus of the height difference. Then his big ol' head - that I noticed 9 month prior - gave him another 6 or so inches in height. Before I turned back to him, I mentioned that I totally saw a difference and he was definitely making a dent in his waist. It was not that he was lean or shredded or anything, just that his gut was not protruding like it used to. Mikey got really excited and told me to take a seat. He tossed the towel to the side and put both arms above his head and exhaled. His entire stomach sucked in and even went upwards into his ribcage. He lowered his hands slowly and felt around his stomach. He got a look of concentration on his face and expanded his ribcage a bit to suck in the stomach even more. After feeling around again, he smiled - satisfied with what he imagined it looked like from practicing in front of the mirror. He turned to the side to give a better view. With the ribcage contorted, his pecs jutted out at least 2 and a half feet from his stomach. From this angle, the one visible pec totally looked like a ball. From his collar bone, the pec went up past his chin and curved all the way around below the top of his stomach before curving back up to his ribcage. Just like my previous commentary about how his stomach did not hang, neither did his pecs. I could not even fathom how those things defied gravity like that. Superior genetics, I suppose. Mikey was still on the stocky side even with his core/stomach exercises. It wasn't like his stomach depth was close to zero like you see on completely ripped and lean bodybuilders. With his stomach sucked in, he still had a bit under two feet from back to front. Part of that was his incredibly thick lower back muscles. I guessed with pecs like those, the lower back would grow thick out of necessity. His lats and traps flared out of his backside. If I had to guess, from his back to the pecs, it had to be four feet - maybe even closer to five feet in depth. That meant his upper torso was almost 3 times as thick as his lower torso at that moment. His lower half (i.e. less than half) was equally as impressive. Now I had said that Mikey opened the door in his boxer briefs, but that is not an adequate description. His legs basically gave zero opportunity to have boxer briefs pulled down. I could imagine that even if he had tried, they would immediately roll up on his legs. So at that point, his boxer briefs looked smaller that trunks and maybe a tad bigger than regular briefs. He had a good five inches of his glute exposed above the waistband, similar to last time, and a third of his ass was hanging out the bottom of his boxer brief "legs". At least he did make an attempt to cover his butt before answering the door. Those things could easily have turned into a thong if not positioned right. With his bubble butt sticking out over a foot from his lower back, he could tear any undergarment if he wasn't careful putting it on. As indicated, his quads looked like they were 3 feet in diameter and would not have allowed for the boxer brief legs to be pulled down. Mikey turned back facing me. My mind raced was with all of these proportions I attempted to calculate. But all of that shut down when I came to the realization that Mikey's legs were much bigger than his waist. From the front they looked about the same width, but from the side, back to front, his stomach was under 2 feet while his legs looked over 3. Shaken a little, I pushed all of those thoughts out of my head. I hadn't been counting, but it had been at least a few minutes since Mikey had started flexing. I muttered something about him having to breath. He put up a finger in a "one moment" sort of gesture. He then lifted both hands up above his head again and crunched down. He still had the vacuum sucking in any exposed skin, but abdominal muscle filled in almost all of the space in an explosion of power. While nine months ago, exhaling made his stomach look corrugated, this was light years beyond that. I couldn't even see the linea alba as it was pulled in so far from the vacuum that no light was reaching it. In between each ab separation, there were a few inch deep grooves. I would say that you could have grabbed on to then with your hand, but each ab itself was like a 24 ounce steak. Possibly you could stretch your hand to each side, but there is no way you could grip it. Normally when someone flexes during a vacuum, you just see the abs pop, but Mikey's obliques also showed up for the party. With skin stretched over top of them, it looked like someone was scoring a piece of meat with a knife for even cooking. Even the space between the abs and obliques was pulled all the way in like the lines alba. I surmised that I could fit most of my hand into those caverns and probably get up to my wrist in the lines alba. After twisting from side to side and maneuvering into different positions for a minute, Mikey finally let go and started breathing again. He wasn't even gasping for air or breathing heavy, it was like that took no effort at all. I had to know how all of that was possible. Mikey was happy to talk about it and plopped down on the sofa next to me. I was almost launched out of my seat when he did that. Luckily, he put up his arm in his normal style (giving me enough space to stay there). His narrow hips took up less than two couch cushions, but his shoulder width would easily take up the entire thing by himself. His hand hung off the far side of the couch and his bicep propped up my head some like a pillow. I was about to say something, but Mikey continued with his tale. He told me about how he started doing stomach vacuums after his birthday. At first he could only do it for about 10 seconds and the strain would wind him. After 9 months, he could hold his breath for 12 minutes doing the vacuum. With taking a deep breath, he had managed to reach about 30 minutes. He said that usually while working he would just hold his breath without actually timing anything. Mikey would alternate between taking a breath and doing a vacuum for most of the day. He estimated that a moment ago he had only flexed for about five minutes. I also wondered about how he had such shredded abs without any veins. Mikey furrowed his brow and mentioned that he still held about 35% body fat. If my jaw could unhinge, it would have hit the floor and burrowed a few feet into the ground. That absolutely mind blowing abdominal display with a hand deep groove in-between was done at 30+% body fat. That was another avenue that I had to push out of my mind before getting overwhelmed. As we continued talking, I noticed that Mikey had gone back into a vacuum. He was using minimal breaths to speak and kept everything sucked in. He started talking about how not breathing actually increases testosterone. That is why some of those celebrities died while suffocating themselves, because the increased testosterone leads to heightened arousal. Instead of torturing himself, Mikey opted for just learning how to hold his breath. That insight certainly accounted for his increased muscle mass in his pecs and shoulders. It was nearly an hour before I realized we should start playing games. Mikey was still in the same vacuum pose. As we set up the game, Mikey explained that taking shallow breaths, he could keep the pose almost indefinitely. We joked about it and I bet him that he couldn't keep it up for the rest of the night. He took that bet and immediately vacuumed again. He kept flexing and unflexing his abs the entire game just to distract me. Close up, I noted something interesting about his obliques. They stuck out from his pelvis almost like handlebars. To the untrained eye, they would be called love-handles. However Mikey's were solid and had the shredded look that obliques can get at low body fat percentages (????? I know, right?). From those handle bars, they actually curved inward before flaring out to the ribcage. It certainly gave the appearance that his waist was smaller now than before. I asked him about it and he took on a forlorn look on his face. He sadly noted that his waist was bigger now than before. I could not offer a good explanation. He clearly had shrunk his waist just from the vacuums. It did not make any sense why he would have gained a few inches. We kept playing and chatting well into the night. Sometime after midnight, Mikey lost his concentration and couldn't hold his vacuum any longer and conceded defeat. With that, I decided to take my win and head home. I did applaud his effort in holding a vacuum for somewhere around 5 hours straight. I didn't mention it, but his waist was absolutely smaller than when I arrived earlier. At the door, Mikey asked me what I wanted since I won the bet. I looked him up and down and told him next time to put some cloths on. Mikey looked down at his bare chest (obviously not able to see past it) and blushed profusely. He apologized 20 times before finally closing the door behind me. Over the next couple of weeks of game nights, Mikey taught me more about what he was learning on stomach vacuums and waistline reduction. Things were going great until we had to cancel few times in a row and fell out of habit again. =========== Less than three months later we were both eager to get back into it because Mikey's birthday had come around again. The door opened to me staring at the lower side of Mikey's pecs. I looked up and only saw pecs going on forever. Mikey kneeled on the floor, but that didn't help - darn his shorter than they should be legs. He got all the way down to a pushup position and I could finally see his face in-between the massive mounds of his pecs and traps. Not like his face was small. It looked 4 times as wide as my own face and twice as tall. Even if I was over 9 feet tall like Mikey, looking towards his face would still be half obscured by his pecs. I chuckled a little because in his pushup position, the top of his head was about as tall as me. He laughed too (although probably not knowing the reason for mine) and gave me a big welcome. Once inside, we went to hug since it was a birthday tradition. I got bumped away by his legs. He tried to lean over and I was almost shoved to the floor by his pecs. Wait, hadn't we hugged before? We both had confused looks on our faces, although we couldn't see each other. I decided to just bend over his legs and grab on to his obliques since there was no possible way I could get around his waist. Hey, I was right, his obliques were like handle bars - except really meaty as if I was holding on to big rolls of salami at a deli counter. He chuckled and reached under his pecs to pat me on the back. I let go and slid my way out from under his pecs. Obviously he was wearing clothing this time or I wouldn't have tried that... probably. Calling it clothing was somewhat of a joke though. He had on some leggings that basically looked like a second skin. They could not have been any tighter. In fact, they were so stretched that you could see Mikey's skin in a couple of places in the right light. His "shirt" was a string tank with such long strings that it barely covered the bottom half of his stomach (although a lot of the top half was already covered by pecs). We pretty much dove straight into movies and video games after that. I won't bore you with all of the details from that night. Mikey took the couch by himself. He was just barely able to fit onto it. I did not understand why he would have bought that brand in the first place if it was that small for him. It was better having me on the floor or grabbing one of the dining room chairs. If Mikey had sat on the floor, he would have completely blocked my vision. I was a little taller than his torso and head if I had been standing up, but his ass and legs propped him up by another 3 feet. There would have been no use trying to go to either side because the caps on his shoulders were almost 3 times as wide as the sofa from tip to tip. One nice thing to note was that after years of trying, he had finally gotten his waist under his hip measurement while vacuumed. He told me how confusing it was because his waist had actually gained quite a few inches over the past few months but somehow his hips gained more - most likely from those salami obliques. Games nights surprisingly lasted for most of that year. Every once in a while we would cancel, but we kept up the habit. It went back to me not noticing changes in his muscular or gut development since we were seeing each other every week. Game Nights Part 3 - The Release *NOTE: This part does include some sexual themes. Fair warning in case you do not like that sort of stuff. By the end of the year, we got busy with the holidays and such. We had vowed to celebrate his birthday again in a few months. By then, we were both eager to get back into it. The door opened to me staring at Mikey's crotch. It was covered by one of those sheath underwear styles. The sheath and rest of the briefs were forced upward by his quads. The pouch was resting in a little bed created by the protruding muscles. The sheath was draped over top, cascading over the muscles and down a little. I looked up and his turtle ridged boulder of a gut filled the doorway. I leaned in a little and just saw pecs blocking anything above. I said a hello with an obvious question mark at the end. Mikey tried getting down into a pushup position again and I could see his hair obscured by the massive pecs jutting out from the pose. Even in this position, the top of his pecs were still a couple of feet above my head. Finally, Mikey just completely plopped down on to the floor and looked up (looking straight at me from my view). My head was finally above his, but his traps and lats still stuck out far enough to be taller than me. His head was gigantic from this frame of reference. His nose alone was getting close to the size of my entire head. I probably could have climbed into his mouth if he stretched his jaw a little. I wouldn't have been able to get all the way inside, at least up to my waist, though. The thought of this brought a little smirk to my face. Once inside, we went for a traditional birthday hug. I tried to grab at his obliques again, but they were far out of reach. I told him I had an idea and dove on top of his legs. I grabbed on to the only thing I could find, the sheath underwear. It was difficult to hold since it was soft and bigger than my hands could grip around, but the fabric gave me something to hang on to. I used it to mountain climb up his legs. I then reached his gut which blocked my way from getting completely on top of the mountains. And I could not keep climbing since I was faced with a ceiling made out of pecs right above my head. He understood what I was trying to do and said he could help with it. He then performed his vacuum pose that he had been practicing for a couple of years now. Mikey's ribcage jutted out and lifted up his pecs, finally giving my head some room. His gut completely sucked in and up into his ribcage. I was able to climb into the cave and comfortably kneel on top of his legs inside of the space. If he managed a little bit more, I might even be able to stand. I tossed my climbing rope aside and went to try to hug him. That turned out as easy as hugging a brick wall. Feeling what I was doing, he exclaimed a quick apology and flexed his abdomen. I felt like I got hit by a car as I was catapulted away. Luckily my climbing rope was close by and I was able to quickly grab on before flying out and probably smashing into a wall. Mikey obviously felt the movement but could not figure out what was going on. Determined to do that hug, I scaled up again, entered the cave and dove into the abs. I remember thinking at some point when I saw him vacuum that I could stick part of my hand into the groove between his obliques and abs. I was wrong, I got up to my elbow. I was actually able to feel the space behind abs and almost touch my fingers inside of his stomach cavity. He put his hand on my back and gently pressed me into his abs to reciprocate the hug. Before descending again, I reached in-between his ab columns. I got up to my shoulder and still couldn't feel the end of the tunnel. Also curious about something else, I scooted back a little and reached up towards his pecs. I easily slid my hand in between the two. It was hot and slick in there. With the pecs jammed up against each other all of the time, he must just build up body heat and sweat like crazy. I reached my other hand in and continued to stand. Once my head entered, the entire world went dark and silent. It was like those movies where a bomb goes off and they mute the volume for a couple of minutes for effect. All light and sound vanished except I could hear Mikey's heart beat pulsing through the muscle tissue. By the time I got to my waist, my hands were feeling the deep crevice at the top. When I was fully standing up on his legs, my head reached fresh air again. I felt like I was in a funnel. Directly in front of me, was the top of his sternum, leading to his neck. In all other directions were pecs jutting upward. Mikey craned his neck and looked down as best he could. Think about trying to look at the bottom of your neck to see a cut or a mole or something. Now picture that mole as being a person almost 1/3 of your height shimmying up through your pec cleavage. He grinned and said hey but it was a cross between a croak and a whisper since he was holding his breath. The vibrations from his voice box were almost overwhelming - If continued for an extended period of time in that position, I would have disintegrated. As for getting face-to-face time with Mikey, I figured this was as good as it would get. Nonchalantly, I started just telling him about work and where my company was going. It was pretty much a one sided conversation, though he did nod and croak a few one word responses. I must have been fairly comfortable standing with his pecs holding me up, because we maintained that position for a good 30 minutes. I didn't even realize how fast the time had flown, and wanted to allow Mikey to breath again - though he seemed perfectly content. I began to adjust my footing to determine which would be easier, going up or back down. Diving through the pecs even came to mind, but I did not know where I would land once I came out. I managed to start turning myself around and found a mound of flesh that gave me some traction. As I continued turning and stepped, I heard (and felt) a rumble emanating from Mikey's chest. When I had turned myself completely around, I realized that I must have stepping on the underwear's pouch and the fabric was why it was easier to maneuver on. I tried to adjust where I was stepping but it was too late. Mikey's pecs squeezed a little bit harder and I knew it would be impossible to get out. Mikey slowly started to gyrate his hips and I could feel my feet be rubbed back and forth over the underwear pouch. My climbing rope solidified into a pole and started to rise up. The solid surface gave me something better to stand on and I began pushing with all of my strength but only managed to get a few inches higher. My attempt made the rumble grow in strength. I heard a whack and felt a ripple through his pecs in front of me. The space between the pecs started to part and I silently cheered that I would be free again. This turned out not to be completely wrong. Instead, the sheath fabric entered my space and the pecs closed in behind it. The top of the underwear was around my chin. While before, my climbing rope was bigger than both of my hand wrapped around it, it had grown to be larger than my torso. Realizing what might be coming, I really began to scramble to get out, pushing with my feet at the base of the sheath and pulling down on the fabric in front of my with my hands. Thinking that I would use the fabric to be able to climb up again was another incorrect assumption. All I managed to do was make the sheath harder and wedge me in more. I kept struggling and it became like quicksand where everything I did made it more difficult to escape. I started to get crushed in-between sternum, pecs and underwear. I never would have imagined saying that sentence before or ever again. I couldn't breath. The world was beginning to turn dim. With everything I had left, I pushed at the base with my legs since that had worked originally, knowing full well that it would accomplish nothing. Mikey bucked a few times while I was doing this and thick cream began to ooze out of the top. It didn't spray or shoot any where because fabric. I began blacking out as a warm feeling crept up my neck. A jolt shocked me out of it - Mikey still hadn't taken a breath in 45 minutes. And, oh my gosh, I can't breath and am going to drown. The cream was still being produced. It started pooling in the crater that I now lived in. Mikey's pecs relaxed a little bit and I no longer felt the life being crushed out of me. However, the cream was quickly passing my nose and almost my eyes. I hadn't taken a breath in well over 2 minutes and that was without training, scrambling in fear and almost blacking out from being crushed. I tried to move with whatever strength I could muster, but it was no use, any place I tried to move my hands was too slick to get any traction. Everything below my shoulders was still pinned, anyway. I quickly found myself fully submerged and the level was still rising. I would have thrashed about, but I had no strength left and no direction I could thrash in. My chest started hurting from holding my breath. My diaphragm started convulsing up and down, screaming for me to fill my lunges with air. All that was left was giving in. I just relaxed - resigned to my fate now - and let the liquid into my lunges. Minutes went by before I realized that I was not dead. I couldn't see anything. There's wasn't any air. Was that not death? I took a deep breath. That wasn't air that entered my lunges, but at the same time I no longer felt like I was drowning. In fact, I felt better than I had in any recent memories. Just then, something hit me in the back of my head. I felt the same thing hit my hands a couple of times and then swivel around my head a bunch. Finally my vision cleared some and I was able to wipe my eyes. The object was Mikey's tongue. He couldn't reach everywhere, but did manage to get my head and hands. The bottom half of my face was still submerged and the fabric was still producing cream, albeit at a slower pace. Mikey croaked to get that, then paused and croaked a please. It was definitely coming out at a quick enough pace to submerge me completely once more in another minute. I leaned my head forward and began to breath through the fabric. Doing this caused Mikey to start bucking again before the production started to go faster than it had originally. I compensated by breathing quicker and much deeper. When it started to slow after around 10 minutes, again Mikey began bucking and it became even faster. It kept happening a countless number of times. Each time was faster than the previous one. I do not know how I kept up, but I did. Finally it slowed up until it stopped. I breathed in everything that was around me, using my hands to scoop things up. I even scraped down Mikey's skin and my own clothing. I was a little bit disappointed when I had to breath air again. I felt the world shift as Mikey sat on his sofa. I never understood why he had bought such a small sofa. I couldn't see it, but knew that Mikey would be hanging off both ends. He croaked a question asking if I was ok. I tilted my head all the way back and could see the exhaustion on his face. I attempted to respond but all that came out was the sound of someone trying to talk under water. I waved at him and tried to push on the sheath. He nodded and spread his arms out and as far back as he could go. That was enough for the sheath and me to get dislodged. The sheath was still hard, but slowly becoming softer. I rode it down like an elevator and got off at the floor. I coughed a few times to clear my throat before being able to talk. I quickly exclaimed that Mikey had to breath. He finally took in a deep breath and was breathing heavy for a few minutes after. I asked him why he wasn't breathing before and he said that my feet would have been crushed where they were. That made sense. I thanked him for allowing me to continue to walk, with a chuckle. Although, I found myself standing on bare feet. I had come in with sandals on, but they must have gotten lost somewhere in there. I certainly wasn't going back to find them. I asked him how he managed to hold his breath for an hour. He told me about how when he made himself calm, and the testosterone started being produced from holding his breath, he could go for around two hours. He said it was like something inside of him still allowed oxygen absorption or that it replaced the need for oxygen. He looked over at the clock and gestured. I glanced at it and saw that it was 3 AM. Mikey was standing there with me standing on him for over 8 hours. He just smiled and said that he knew he had to do it and somehow managed to get past his previous record of 2 hours. He then got a solemn look on his face and thanked me. It was a genuine heartfelt thanks - I had never seen him with such a serious look on his face and knew that he really meant it. He said that for the past three years, he was unable to "do the deed" and in fact couldn't get it up in the slightest. During any diet or exercise routine he could not focus on it at all and needed some release from the tensions of work and life. He felt like he was exploding for all of that time and I never knew about it. After 50+ times tonight, he felt like he could finally breath again (pun intended). Game Nights Part 4 - My Turn After chatting for close to another hour, I decided to head home. I looked at my clothes and they were not in good shape. When I had looked at my bare feet before, were my clothes in this condition? I shook my head to clear my thoughts because I was actually having trouble seeing my feet under my pecs. I had to bend over way more than usual, but that was causing some light headedness. Over the past few years, I actually had kept up with working out and attempting to maintain a good diet (attempted, but not exactly succeeded). I was not as pear shaped as I had been before Mikey's moving day. My hips were still on the larger side, but at least my shoulders were a bit wider. In the previous few months, I had started gaining somewhat of a V-taper. With the wide hips, it formed a little bit of an X-shape or maybe you would call it more of an hour-glass shape, but that was much better than a pear. I was hovering around 20% body fat, so I did not have visible abs and a little bit of a gut. My pecs were always the hardest to get to respond, but I guessed I had made more progress than I originally thought. I asked Mikey if he had any old clothes I could borrow since I did not look so hot with dried sweat (among other things) and ripped clothing covering my body. Even if they didn't fit it was fine since I just needed to get home. After eight hours of standing there and experiencing all of that, I felt ready to explode and really needed to bang one out (but not in a million years at my friend's house). Mikey said that he still had some older clothes in his office closet. I went upstairs to check out what I could find and just threw my shirt and pants into the trash. There was a nice 3xl shirt in there. I started to put that on, but I couldn't even get my arms in there. My memories of Mikey wearing that shirt and how the manufacturer's cut was wrong flickered. I also found that one frayed t-shirt and jeans he had on a couple of birthdays ago. I held it up and wondered how he ever fit into that. I also pulled out the pair of jeans. Even though I remembered them being short on him, they should have been gigantic on me since he was over 15 feet tall, right? I pulled on the shirt and laughed at the torn sleeves. The little tears at the shoulders were growing a little bit more inwards while I was looking at myself in the next door bathroom mirror - that was odd. Pulled down, the shirt didn't even reach to my belly button and it was completely stretch at my chest to the point of being slightly see through. I looked like two cheese wheels somehow managing to fit into a spandex knee brace. Without a rounded gut like Mikey's, the shirt did not roll up. It was basically form fitting over top of my flared out lats and ended around the middle of my "hour glass". It wanted to take the path of least resistance and staying in place made less strain than rolling up would have. With the shirt ending right at my stomach's mid-point, it totally highlighted my nice v-taper that I was getting. I nodded in approval. I slapped my small gut hard as a salute to my nice bulges everywhere. It jiggled a little. I attempted one of Mikey's vacuums in the mirror. I exhaled fully and sucked in my stomach. I was taken aback that my stomach tightened as much as it did and actually made the shirt hang loosely from my ribcage in the front. Corrugated muscles popped out all over the landscape. My obliques were absolutely massive - a pear shaped advantage to the apple's narrow hips. Proportionally, they were definitely bigger than Mikeys, though his would be comparably longer because of his longer torso:leg ratio. My abs were not as shredded looking as Mikey's, and they had big globular shapes to them. It was interesting that Mikey's abs at 35% body fat looked a little bit better when flexed. His big ball gut must have been incredibly dense. I found holding my breath to be somewhat easier given the 5 minutes or so that I was forced to hold it earlier and then around 8 hours of not breathing any air. I ran through some different angles and poses that I had seen Mikey do with his vacuum. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tensely flexed muscles. Sucked in like that it wasn't too shabby and spurred me to work on my waist a little more once I got home. When I released, I did not feel winded. My gut even looked slightly flatter than a few minutes prior. I attempted to adjust the shirt a little, but it wasn't having any of that with my pecs straining it up top. I looked at my underwear and it was so tight that it resembled a thong. That was so weird, I did not remember wearing a thong to come to my friend's house. I tried to pull the pants on, but couldn't even get close. Things stopped around midway up my thighs because it was just getting too wide. This left my big muscular bubble shaped glutes - with a thong squeezed in-between - fully hanging out. I tried pulling from the bottom, but that was useless. The cuffs on the bottom left 6 inches exposed from my ankle up my leg. A few inches up from there, the lower part of the pant legs were completely wedged into my calves. I realized that I wouldn't be able to get these jean shorts up to the knee. Or were they more like daisy dukes - they looked short enough that they wouldn't even cover to mid thigh if I could have pulled them up to my waist. I took off the jeans and felt ripping near my armpits. The little tears started pulling apart, running down my lats on both side. Immediately after, the center of the shirt split at the collar and around my pecs. I was not entirely surprised given how tight the shirt was when I had put it on. A wave of something between euphoria and nausea overtook me. I felt like my time was running short and I needed to get home immediately. I was about to pop like that shirt just did. I went back into the office just as my thong burst free. I didn't even care, though. I just opened the closet and grabbed the first thing that I saw. There was a big piece of fabric on the floor. I picked it up and quickly looked it over. The logo was the same that I remembered from around a year and a half ago. It was that pair of underwear Mikey was wearing after his shower. I would never in a million years wear someone else's underwear, but this was a special million and one circumstance. I just needed to get home. I knew that the underwear would be way too big for me, but I could just use a belt. Wait, my belt. I fished through the trash and found that my belt was a little torn, but still usable. I threw on the underwear and started wrapping the belt around my waist. Except, it did not fit around my waist. It barely even fit across my back. It must have been torn in half during all of the events of the night. I tossed the belt back into the trash and realized that I didn't even need it. I must have been mistaken about the boxer briefs being from over a year ago. I went back into the bathroom since I had trouble seeing what was going on any more without a mirror. Those boxer briefs were definitely too small even for me. They were completely wedged up between my legs and constricting my groin. I turned to the side and saw that they were completely wedged up my ass, looking like a thong. What was with underwear looking like thongs tonight? I tried to pull it out of my crack, but it was like stretching a rubber band. It kept snapping back to the same position. After one last attempt, the boxer briefs shredded on both sides. I had to crouch down to pull out the mega wedgie they had left in their wake. I got a huge head rush again leaning over like that and felt like I was going to hurl or blow. Nothing happened, and I shockingly was not even hard at that point. The snapped briefs went into the trash, too. They looked like they were much bigger on the floor in the closet. In the trash they seemed incredibly tiny. I found Mikey's leggings from last year and started pulling them on as I walked back to the bathroom. I had to step back to take it all in. The leggings were completely see through from all angles. They were stretched so thin that I was shocked they hadn't just shredded apart. There was no way they would have lasted until I got home - they weren't concealing anything anyway. I peeled them off and checked out the brand name. I thought about getting a pair that fits later on since they seemed to be pretty high quality and durable. Still stark naked, I peeked my head around the corner, looking down the staircase. Mikey was dozing on the couch. His back was propped up against the wall and his head wasn't going anywhere with his pecs keeping it in place. I darted down the steps and into his bedroom to find some of his bigger clothes. I would have worn a tent at that point, I didn't care. I found his underwear drawer, so it must have been a million and two circumstance. Even with his three years abstinent claim, I completely avoided the few sheath style briefs that I found. There was no circumstance where my sword should fit into someone else's sheath. He did have a few large pouch spandexy things. I grabbed one and put it on, holding the top so they wouldn't fall down. I looked into his closet for some type of pants. I found a pair of shorts that an elephant would probably wear. It was good enough. I could just tie them up somehow. I checked to make sure Mikey was still asleep before darting back upstairs to the other bathroom. Quick in and out, I did not want Mikey to find me in his master bedroom or bathroom as I was already over the line for invasion of privacy (going through and wearing his underwear, as an example). As I neared the top of the steps, my heart was racing from running room to room, up and down steps. Another wave completely overtook me and I dropped to my hand and knees (the other hand still holding the shorts and underwear up). I started panting for air and moaning. The pain and pleasure rushing through my head was all that I could think about. I was basically at the point of orgasm for however many minutes I was frozen there. When it finally allowed some of my senses to return, one of the first things I realized was that I was still on the staircase. I used the moment of lucidity to crawl to the top and out of Mikey's field of view. I plopped down on the landing and felt around the front of the shorts for a wet spot. They were completely dry except for a bit of moisture from sweat. I felt a great deal of sorrow for my friend downstairs. If that was anything like what he had been experiencing for the past few years, I would have gone crazy. Still mostly enthralled, I got myself together enough to stand up and head to the bathroom. Approaching the mirror, my gaze was drawn to my legs. My thighs were big enough to force me to roll each leg over each other as I walked. I could even feel my glutes flexing and bouncing with each step. I let go of the shorts and underwear and they stayed in place. I always thought that mens shorts looked stupid because they never seemed to be shaped correctly. Then, when they would hang from the person's waist, the inside or the outside edges always seemed to ride up. These shorts sat below my hip bone and formed perfectly around my quads. I was a bit surprised that being a little more than a foot shorter than Mikey, I could fill out his short this well. The design on them had a lighter color in the middle and dark lines going from the center waistband to the outside edges of my legs. Just the design alone and how it drew my eyes made my hips seem small and my quads gigantic. I could definitely have gotten used to having a better image of myself in a mirror. Did I not have a good opinion of my reflection before? Turning to the side, my glutes perfectly filled out the back of the shorts and it really accentuated the shape. I wasn't able to pull them completely up to my hips for fear of ripping them over my ass, which left a good 6 inches of my glutes visible. My eyes trailed upwards. You know how models are down in the sub-7% body fat range to get their abs to pop, yet someone like Derek Poundstone has visible abs at 15%? The more muscle you have, the more body fat you can have and still show definition. Someone like Mikey at 35% body fat had big and bulbous muscles, giving them all a very rounded look instead of a cut and defined look. While I looking at myself in the mirror, I could have sworn that I had magically dropped under 10% body fat. My abs were these wide bricks stacked on top of each other. The top four were the only ones separated from the pack, with two columns bordering my belly button going down. However, I did not have any visible veins popping up - meaning I was at least 20% body fat, still. I imagined looking up a definition of bear mode in the dictionary and seeing my picture. My pecs showed a nice cut down the middle and a separation near the top at the upper chest. My torso was just thick all the way down (still curved inwards at my waist). My hips looked like hams were shoved in there with a massive adonis belt that joined forces with the ab columns to stretch the front of the shorts unnecessarily. My lats pushed my arms forward by about 20 degrees and to the side by 30 degrees. Unfortunately my smaller proportioned arms and shoulders looked completely eclipsed by what was going on in the middle. If you chopped off my arms, they would look quite impressive on their own. I seemed to remember that I had gotten my arms up to 19 inches, but these were clearly past 40 or 50 inches. It was a shame that they got outshined by everything else. I could feel another wave washing over my brain and just mumbled about how it would have to do without a shirt. I shut off the lights in the bathroom and office before quickly making my way back down stairs. If I let it overtake me again, I could not foresee how long I would be debilitated. Game Nights Part 5 - Finally Some Clarity Mikey was still dozing on the couch when I came downstairs. I woke him to let him know that I was leaving. I wanted to make sure that he locked up behind me - you never know when a robber might take advantage of an unlocked door and overpower you. He groggily smiled and stood up to give me a hug goodbye. I looked down at his legs, expecting to have to scale mountains. But we were the same height, weren't we? What was I doing when we first hugged last night? I looked at my hand and then at his chest cleavage. Wasn't I reaching up into his pecs with my whole arm before? My thoughts were interrupted as he reached me and we hugged. Since i was a taller, i just maneuvered my pecs a little and we were able to pat each other on the back. I held him for a moment remembering that the last time we managed to hug normally seemed like it was a few years ago. That thought too was interrupted as he was asleep again with face on my pecs. I just held him there for a few minutes, gently rubbing his back. That was quite an ordeal he had tonight and indeed over the previous three years. I scooped him up in my arms and brought him to his back patio. He was heavy, but one of the benefits of being over a foot taller and wider was that he was small enough to carry. The back patio was a nice enclosed space. He had a quadruple sized reinforced hammock that he would sleep on when it was nice out. However the hammock did not look big, maybe it was a regular size and I was mistaken about it being larger. I laid him in there gently and lit his firepit. It was a nicely designed space, with ventilation for the firepit to keep you warm without smoking you out, and a cool cross breeze to give you fresh air. As I was lighting the pit, I heard a long rip and the shorts fell from my waist, split in half. I sighed and picked them up off of the patio floor. I got another head rush as I bent over and the micro modal fabric of the large pouched underwear was almost immediately straining in response. I decided to stay until he woke up just to make he was ok. That meant it turned into a million and three circumstance because I could not hang around without getting some relief. I went into his master bathroom because it had an oversized shower stall. I was past caring about invasion of privacy, I knew instinctively that I wouldn't have even made it home in that state. In the bathroom, Just turning on the water started making me harder. I wasn't even done adjusting the temperature when the micro modal underwear just exploded off of me - that stuff was was supposed to be super stretchy. Temperature be damned, this was happening regardless of hot or cold. I jumped into the stall and started shooting before the door closed behind me. Imagining having to clean up an eight hour mess if this was going to be anything like Mikey earlier, I decided to just "self clean" so to speak. Out of habit, I breathed in as opposed to swallowing. Luckily my pecs were much more manageable than Mikey's and I could reach my head to breath in on my own. Since I was already in the shower, I decided to clean myself. I still had residues from the various events earlier in the night. It was quite interesting washing myself in the shower with my head(s) locked in place. It took a good hour for one load, but luckily did not continue afterwards. It would have been awkward shooting again (and again and again and again) like Mikey had. I wasn't stopped up for three years like he had been, either. I finished rinsing and turned off the shower. I mouthed a curse when I realized that I had never searched for a towel. I just shook my head and let myself drip dry for a few minutes. My head was finally clearing and I could use the time to think. I had come in with sandals on and then lost them somewhere on Mikey's body. I bent over and looked at my feet - how in the world could I have lost size 30 sandals on his body? They would have been visible anywhere, even in-between his pecs. I tried to picture the sandals in my mind. I recalled being in the store and buying size 13's. I also remembered my shirt in the trash had been size xl. When I was trying them on, Mikey's 3xl shirt and the ripped one felt like they would be too big for me. So why was my mind telling me that I order custom sized shirts online? All of the underwear ripped apart even though they were drastically different sizes. All of the pants and shorts were stretched around my legs with them also being different sizes. No... my car, it was regular sized. Why did it make sense to find clothes to drive home? I would not even be able to fit one leg in the drivers seat let alone drive home in it. Even my home had 8 foot ceilings. How could I even live there? My subconscious kept telling me to shake these thoughts out of my head, but my brain finally wasn't listening. Wait, Mikey was shorter than me when we first met by over a foot. Then he was much taller than me, more than 2.5 times my height. At that moment I was taller again by over two feet. Mikey was 5'2" a few years ago, right? He said that he was ready to explode for over three years. He was also 5'2" a little over three years ago. I finally pinned it down, things started changing when he started trying to exercise. No that's not it, he also said that he could not focus on a diet and exercise regime the whole time, which meant it started around when he moved into his house. I looked at the faucet, was it something in the water? No, it couldn't be. I knew for a fact that he drank filtered water from his refrigerator. I pondered what could be different between his life and mine. We ate the same types of food, nothing out of the ordinary - although I was more adventurous. He played more video games and was online more than me, but why would that cause this effect to happen? By then, I was no longer dripping wet. I stepped out and found his linen closet for a towel. I quickly dried myself off and went back to his closet to find something very large and stretchy. I was no longer under the fog of my subconscious saying that Mikey's clothes would be too big. I concentrated for a moment on how much taller I was than Mikey, my brain still said somewhat over two feet. At least that meant I was not growing anymore (or even worse, both of us were growing at the same rate). I found a much larger pair of lycra leggings, made by the same company as the ones in the office closet. That would have to do. After stuffing myself into the leggings, I ran the towel through my hair one more time and hung it over the shower stall doors. It occurred to me that I would have a lot of explaining to do with all of the torn clothes now in the trash. I was fine just buying him all new clothes to replace anything that I had touched. The harder topic would be me going through his bedroom and even using his master bathroom shower without asking. Since I was there anyway, I decided to check out what the leggings looked like in the mirror. They were definitely tight, but not to the point of bursting - finally! I tried to get some rough measurements even though my subconscious was telling me that I had already measured many times in the past. My brain was still fighting it off. It was actually quite difficult to measure since everything was so much bigger and my frame of reference was off. I looked at my hand and it seemed like a normal sized hand according to my eyeball judgement. However, just in relation to tiles on the floor and such, my hand had to have been at least 2 feet long. Using both hands as a quick ruler, my thighs were somewhere in the 90+ circumference range (almost 4 hands worth). I tried the same on my arms with more limited success. They were each in-between 2 hands and 3 hands - though closer to 2. A very rough estimate put them around 60 inches. My hands could not stretch far enough to fully cup my delts to judge their size. I felt the heft of my pecs. The felt like solid slabs of beef, though with the increased size they were probably closer to the entire slab of meat hanging to age in a butcher shop. I bounced my pecs in my hands to feel them pounding up and down and that flexed hard in the mirror. I could see slight signed of striations in the mirror, but not very distinct. That was wild to see at 20% body fat. I could recall flexing and barely seeing the separation at the bottom of my pecs before. My eyes traveled down from my pecs and I noticed that my stomach was sucked in. My abs were clearly defined now. The increased muscle density while growing provided further separation (still no veins though). I did a quick hand measurement and it was roughly 80 inches (3 hands plus a bit more). I tried to inflate my gut and tense it again, but nothing happened. I wasn't purposefully or even fully doing a vacuum pose. Actually, I wasn't even breathing. I forced myself to think about it and my last breath of air I remembered taking was at the firepit. I recalled smelling the embers and then getting a head rush when bending over right next to it. I did gasp when the shorts had ripped off, but could not recall actually breathing air any time after that. I tried to inhale but my throat felt like it was closed. I tried to exhale and some air bubbled up and exited my mouth - causing my stomach to suck in just a tiny bit more. I went to inhale again and was still blocked. It was like swimming with a snorkel. If you went under water and exhaled, you could feel the bubbles leaving the tube but then you would be trapped until you reached the surface again to blow out the water. But in this case, i did not feel panicked about not breathing. Instead, i felt like i had plenty of oxygen and did not have to breath. I felt like I would have to address not having to breath at some point, but it was not a critical situation at that moment. So the firepit... could there be something in there? I knew it was some type of synthetic coal and not wood. It even had a pretty yellow color to the brickettes. Some weird smoke could have some hallucinogenic effects and possibly distort perceptions. I knew that Mikey slept out there on the patio most of the time. Whatever residual smoke may have been hanging around the house when I would stop by, but not concentrated enough to have the long term effects that Mikey was facing. Having his breathing stopped while he slept might also explain why he took to doing the stomach vacuums so quickly and could hold his breath for record breaking lengths of time. I also had the marathon of not breathing air for eight hours straight, but I also had everything that was stored up over three years saturating my lungs - it obviously resulted in a much greater impact than residual smoke that had not been completely ventilated. It was around 7AM by then. I went to confirm my suspicions and found that Mikey was not breathing out on the hammock. I extinguished the flames and picked him up to bring him to his bed. I closed the door behind me to prevent any more of the smoke from coming. I smiled at the thought - I would not have imagined this yesterday. Here I was carrying 15+ foot tall Mikey and being able to maneuver enough to close a door without dropping him. But I was always big enough to hold him like that... Damn, I shook my head with disgust. That stuff works fast. Luckily I still wasn't breathing, as inhaling it would probably have a much greater impact. I went to lie Mikey down on his bed, but why did he buy such a small bed. it was supposed to be a double sized king and looks smaller than a twin with him on it. I quickly bit my lip to try to stay centered in reality. I shut his bedroom door and opened his windows to help bring in some fresh air. It was still difficult to concentrate, and took everything I had to keep focused on the matter at hand. I reached up and touched the ceiling. At least Mikey had lucked out by getting 24 foot cathedral ceilings. Otherwise, He would have been smashed into the place some time last year. I ran my hand along the ceiling to the doorway. The door was completely removed with a good chunk of the wall. At some point, Mikey must have had contractors out to reframe the doorways. I had never noticed that his doors went almost to the ceiling and were 16 feet wide. Everything had always registered as normal. Speaking of which, the office wall had been completely removed, along with the upstairs bathroom's wall. The only thing each of the rooms had were those room separator accordion type doors. My mind was still boggling over how these obviously strange things did not even phase me a few hours ago. On the opposite side of the bedroom, Mikey had a bench installed that could hold him. I gently tested it out and it seemed sturdy enough to hold me, too. I then heard Mikey take a deep inhale and then sounded like the normal labored breathing that people do when they sleep. That was good, at least one thing was off my mind. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I had been awake for over 24 hours (minus whatever amount of time i had been blacked out) and it was starting to wear on me. I obviously couldn't leave the house looking like this, and it was going to be difficult explaining the situation to Mikey since he had been under the influence of whatever that stuff was for over three years. To make matters worse, I still could not breath, meaning I also would not be able to speak. I sighed, or rather a couple bubbles trickled up my throat and escaped. I dozed off with the singular thought that I hoped I would wake up in my right mind. Game Nights Part 6 - The New Paradigm I woke up sometime around noon. I felt so groggy, I could have slept for another five hours. My roommate Mikey was in my bed and I was slowly realizing that I was on my corner bench seat. I tried to remember when we went to bed last night. We must have been so drunk. Even though I could not recall, I obviously brought Mikey to my room instead of his hammock. I stood up and stretched, rubbing my hands against the ceiling. I got a sudden chill and noticed the window was open. I rubbed my bare chest and could feel the goosebumps popping up. After closing the window, I rubbed at my arms and shoulders to warm myself up a bit. I inspected the current situation. I looked over my roommate to make sure he was ok. The silly guy was just wearing underwear and it was really cold in there. Other than his underwear being a little bit crusty, he seemed fine. He was in one of those sheath style underwear brands that he liked so much. Normally, I am not checking out my roommate, but laying there with no other clothes on he was basically on full display. He definitely looked bigger than usual - about as long as his thigh. It was kind of like when you have sex and don't fully go down afterwards. That not-fully-done chub state. It was not that I disapproved of the sight. He was actually looking pretty manly like that with the sheath somehow still covering it all. Nodding as a sort of "good for you", I pulled a blanket over him so that he would not catch a cold. We were just roommates and not partners, though I did not mind him being in my bed or basically being naked laying there. We never really talked about sexual orientation, but I suspected that he was bisexual, leaning towards women. I was more asexual, not really seeking the company of men or women. If a situation came up, I would go with the flow and wind up not enjoying it as much as the other party. I knew how to please myself and had not found anybody else who could come close. Just because I was not interested in men or women didn't mean that I stopped having fantasies. Since we were not specifically "into each other", Mikey being in my bed was not a big deal and it was better to just let it go. We shared most things around the house, anyway. Even without being a couple, we still cared deeply for each other. I would do anything for Mikey, even give my life to save his. And I knew he felt the same way. With Mikey safe and resting soundly, I went into the bathroom. It was a little bit warmer there. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror. I had to brush my hair a little with my hand - it was really messy, as if I had taken a shower and just let it dry with only a quick tussle of a towel. I had at least a day's worth of beard growth going and it was coming in pretty evenly. In another day or two, I would have a nice full beard. Also, I was only wearing leggings with no underwear. The previous night was beginning to be curiouser and curiouser. It looked like I had just jammed on the pants with reckless abandon. I pulled them part way down to take a leak. I really had to go - yep, there was definitely a ton of alcohol last night. I readjusted my package before pulling the pants back up. Allowing my penis to run down my inner thigh prevented any pain later on from constriction. I had to I wiped a little bit of drool from the side of my face and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. What day was it? With the hair, beard growth and pants, it seemed like I had lost an entire day. I pondered the question for a moment as I scratched at the beard. My best guess was that it seemed like a Saturday. That was good, Mikey was off on Saturdays and I could just let him sleep in. I walked out of my room to check email up in the office. On my way, I stopped by the kitchen to start brewing some coffee. I opened up a bag and poured the entire pound of coffee grounds into the filter. I grabbed two gallons of water from the pantry and filled the machine's reservoir. I flipped the on switch and sauntered towards the staircase. Through the front window, I noticed a car parked on the street. Those crazy neighbors were always parking in front of our house. Mikey and I never minded though since we both worked from home. He had his work with the global supplies company and I was sole proprietor of my home business. The weekends were always my time on the main computer and he took 7-4 (or longer) on weekdays. We had a laptop floating somewhere around if either of us had to use the computer while the other was working. Upstairs, I started responding to client emails and creating a priority checklist for the weekend. Things were pretty light, which was both good and bad. Nice to get some free time, but hard on the wallet with less billable hours to submit. I could hear the coffee machine beep downstairs. On the way out, I noticed the trashcan full of ripped clothing. Mikey and I really needed to stop getting drunk (or AS drunk as we must have been last night). At minimum, I missed out on something wild. Before getting started on my weekend list, I had to wake up a bit more. I poured myself a cup into my gallon sized beer stein (which doubled nicely a coffee mug). With coffee in hand, I stared out the back windows. The firepit looked like it had been used and then snuffed out, but nothing was cleaned up. Perhaps we had sat out on the patio for a while and Mikey had passed out. Or maybe Mikey had slept there at some point during the night and then had come upstairs because it was too cold even with the fire running. The coffee was nice. It was the perfect amount of heat on a chilly afternoon mixed with enough caffeine to bypass whatever lack of sleep I was feeling. It certainly did the trick and I decided to go for a quick run. Especially when exercising, my body produced so much heat that I forewent with putting on a shirt. I was like a plugged in laptop power cord. When I was off, I was cool to the touch. When I was running, you could burn your hand. I figured a nice brisk run would certainly get me going without overheating. I grabbed a set of keys and attached them to my leggings. Then, out the door I went. Whenever I went for a run, I always had to use the street. There were some complaints from the neighbors since I would have one foot on the sidewalk and one foot in their yards. More so when it had rained recently, I would leave footprints around the neighborhood. Whenever I tried to run on just the sidewalk, the path was so narrow that I eventually tripped every time. The street was perfectly fine, though. I could run faster than the 25 mile an hour speed limit in the neighborhood and also easily hopped over any cars that might be coming in the other direction. See, Mikey and I lived in a community of little people. All of them were only like five feet tall or something. Maybe a few came up to Mikey's waist, but none reached mine. They were all extremely light, too. Mr. Briggs down the street complains about weighing 350 pounds and thinking that he is too heavy. Either Mikey or I could shot-put him maybe a quarter of a mile away if we were so inclined. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. Another guy, something Italian like Donatello or Donato (I just call him Donny), talks about his big muscles all of the time. He is a tiny 200 pounds soaking wet - I would totally put my money on Briggs in a fight. I might be able to punt little Donny at least a mile if I caught the wind just right. Those two are probably considered the biggest fellows in the neighborhood next to us. All of those little people drove in these cute little cars. They reminded me of an electronic jeep that I had when I was a kid. I was sure that our neighbors all thought their little vehicles were impressive. I kept my opinion about them looking like toys for children to myself. Who was I to tell them otherwise. I came up to Ms. Ellie's house after a couple minutes of jogging. She lived around two miles away from us on the other side of the neighborhood. Ms. Ellie was an attractive 50 something year old little lady - nice as could be. As I approached, she greeted me and called me "hot stuff". I often wondered if Ms. Ellie was a cougar. I gave a cheerful wave in response. She looked me up and down and lingered on my legs. She then made a sly comment about how the cold didn't have any shrinkage effect. It occurred to me that I forgot to put on underwear before leaving and was obviously on display down my inner thigh. I blushed profusely, but there wasn't much I could do about it. She got a big grin on her face for still having the ability to make a man over 3 times her height blush. The grin faded quickly as she asked me for a quick favor. The Delinger boy next door to her constantly parked too close to Ms. Ellie's car. She always had to go next door and ask them to move it. Since she was just running to the store for a few things, she asked if I could help her out. I happily complied and gently grabbed the undercarriage of the car with both hands. It was a little bit of a strain to pick it up, but I could have carried it all the way back to my house two miles away. As gently as I could, I placed it into the middle of the street. She winked at me and said that she would stop by over the weekend and drop off some cookies from Mikey and me. Ms. Ellie worked at a bakery and always brought home extra dough that would otherwise be thrown out. She usually had cookies overflowing from her kitchen and loved to give them away. Mikey and I were both trying to watch our weight, but who could say no to free freshly baked cookies. Plus, she would bake a single cookie per cookie sheet whenever she made them for us. It was divine compared to the store bought junk where you need to eat an entire sleeve of cookies for one mouth full. Her eyes were lingering on my legs again as she said that she would see me later and called me hot stuff again. Although it sounded more like she freudian slipped - calling me hot stuffed. I then upgraded her in my head to: totally a cougar and possibly into me. I jogged next to her car for a minute as she approached the main connecting road outside of our community. At the last street, I made the motion of blowing a kiss to her and took off to the left. I jogged for another twenty minutes before turning back towards home. A few blocks from us was a park, mostly for the neighborhood kids. They had a bunch of salvaged or repurposed items. It was really neat that the crafty people in the neighborhood spent the time and effort to make a beautiful playground out of reclaimed pieces. The park was ideally situated right in the middle of the community. Most of the kids had less than a mile to walk before getting to play - good suburban planning from the original builders. There was this old monster truck with most of the exterior stripped down. Sandpits were placed around so that the kids would have a soft landing if they fell. A slide was constructed over the engine block to prevent anybody from falling in. Kids could climb up the tires, play around in the flatbed in the back and pretend that they were driving it. Overall, it made for a nice big jungle gym for the little people and their kids. It also made for an excellent piece of gym equipment for Mikey and me. Generally, we would only use it if nobody else was around. Every once in a while, we would stand with one of us on each side and "fly" it around with the kids inside. The rules were they either had to be in the front seats or sitting on the flatbed holding on to the constructed railings. If anybody at all broke those rules, the game would be over for everyone. Needless to say, none of the kids ever broke the rules so that they could get the chance to fly in a monster truck. We would make the motions like they were launching off of a hill and landing on other trucks. We would make the crunching sounds like there were big metal-on-metal collisions. All of the kids cheering was sometimes deafening, but it was so much fun. With all of the extra additions and construction, the monster truck weighed around 12,000 pounds. I slid under it and grabbed both wheel axles. I then started pressing it slowly into the air. While neither Mikey nor I could perform the "flying" carry by ourselves (at least not stably enough to prevent the kids from being launched out of it), we could use it for bench, squats (with assistance) and deadlifts. Deadlifts were the hardest to perform because we basically needed to grab the flat bed side and stand up with the truck sticking straight out in front of us. I could bang out a couple of reps since I was taller and had a longer reach. With the truck standing 12 feet tall and 12 feet wide, while Mikey stood a little over 15 feet tall, I had to provide assistance on the slide side to maintain his balance. 9... 10...... 11............. Try as I might, I could not lock out a 12th rep. Still, 10 was my previous max so getting one more was great. I stretched my arms out to the sides for a minute before grabbing the axles again. 7... 8........... My arms started sinking back, but then I gritted my teeth and gave it my all - 9! I slowly lowered the truck back down. My entire body was shaking by this point, but I wanted to milk that negative rep for all it was worth. My chest was burning like lava was about to erupt out of it. Steam started billowing off of my pecs into the chilly air. I was not looking down, but I could imagine that they were turning pitch black with my sulfur rich blood pumping through them. The wheels finally touched the ground and my arms flopped to the side like they were made of jelly. I closed my eyes and concentrated on flexing my pecs to keep the blood in them. I imagined what it would be like if they keep expanding and my entire body would grow to match. I had to stop myself from that train of thought because I started getting hard. The last thing I needed was to run the rest of the way home naked if the leggings gave out on me. After the much needed minute of rest, my arms were ready for action. I slid out from under the truck. I brushed a bunch of the sand from my back and ass before starting on some pushups. I performed 100 regular, then 50 with each arm, and finally 20 handstand-to-planche pushups. Now completely pumped, it was time for one more set under the truck. 4... 5..... 6............ Game Nights Part 7 - Introducing Morgan Mikey found himself in an unfamiliar place. Darkness was covering the room, but he could feel cold stone or concrete below him. It took quite a bit of time for his eyes to start adjusting. When they did, he could start to see walls - one, two, three, and the fourth seemed to be open. He started walking in the open direction but something impeded his movement. It was cold, cold iron bars - he was in a cell. He quickly searched the other three walls to see if there was a means for escape, to no avail. He called out through the bars for help, but he had no voice. He was trapped and nobody was coming to save him. Some amount of time passed: days, weeks, months, or maybe even years. There were no windows to tell the passing of time. The halls were just as dark as his cell. Some light must have been coming from somewhere or else he would be in total darkness. However, the amount of light always stayed the same without a day/night cycle. Nothing was there except for Mikey and the cold iron bars. Time started to bleed together and trying to determine days became irrelevant. Mikey knew that he was in prison awaiting his execution. The passing of time also grew his anticipation for the event. When would it happen? How would it happen? The only question Mikey was not asking was why, because he already knew the answer to that one. When the stress became unbearable, he began to grow. At first it was unnoticeable. You cannot tell that you have grown an inch without even being able to see your surroundings. It wasn't until he was around a foot taller when he started detecting a difference. The bars on the cell seemed smaller. From the day before or even a week before, the bars would have seemed the same. But Mikey could recall the first time he touched them. The growth continued. By the time he was three feet taller, he found out that there was a ceiling. By seven feet taller, he could no longer walk around the cell without scrapping his head. The unbearable anticipation turned into agonizing torture. Mikey finally realized the method of his execution. His fate was to be tormented with size until finally being crushed within the cell from his own growth. Though with the size increase also came an unbelievable strength increase. Mikey began to fight back. He spent his days slamming his fist into the wall - at the same spot over and over. He could feel the stone being chipped away. When he reached around 15 feet taller than he was originally, Mikey could no longer sit up in the cell. That did not deter him from his mission of slamming the wall. By then, too, his gargantuan fists shook the room with each jab. The hole in the wall was a few feet deep, but the wall's thickness seemed to go on forever. Eventually, his escape attempt had to come to an end. By 25 feet taller, he was too big to maneuver any more for a punch. He still dug his finger into the hole he had created, scrapping whatever he could out of it. That too eventually came to an end. Mikey grew to the point of feeling like a sardine packed into a can. There was no more available space and the execution date was finally upon him. Suddenly, the entire jail exploded from some unknown source. Mikey was not injured and was just extremely relieved that he could continue growing in peace. And grow he did. He quickly reached 50 feet. Looking at his hands, he was reminded of the rock golem in the Never-ending Story. They indeed looked like such big strong hands. He felt like he could crush the former prison with just one punch. By 100 feet tall, Mikey could no longer determine where the prison was. Not like he cared, anyway. The power rushing through him was all that he ever needed to know until the end of time. By 500 feet tall, he knew that he was a god and would rule over everything now and forever. Fate had other plans, though. The visage of his roommate came into view. They reached for each other, but the roommate vanished in a cloud of smoke before they could touch. Mikey began to shrink rapidly. Before he knew it, he was under 50 feet tall and still shrinking. The prison was in view again and quickly approaching. Mikey felt like he was falling, but his feet never left the ground. Cold wind rushed by him. He reached his original height, standing amongst the rubble, and continued his descent. He became buried under the stones and cinder. Any one of the pieces of rubble could have completely crushed him. The wind was still blowing and Mikey could no longer tell if his fate was to to vanish, be crushed or freeze. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and then a warmth covering his body. All of the anticipation and fear melted away. The prison no longer existed, Mikey was finally safe. ========== Mikey roused from his slumber. He felt nice and cozy with a blanket wrapped around him. He rolled over, wrapping himself into a cocoon with the blanket. He smiled as the dream/nightmare faded from existence and then dozed off again. ========== After my last set under the truck, I rolled out and brushed the sand off again. I went back to doing pushups. I continued going, without counting, until reaching failure. Even then, I rested for a few seconds and pumped out a few more. I kept doing that until I could not do a single pushup after the few seconds of rest. I slammed into the ground - slam is a fairly accurate description. If one of the little people was doing pushups it would have been more of a plop, while me hitting the ground vibrated all of the houses within a 500 foot radius of the earthquake's epicenter. I felt like a turtle on its back (even though I was on my chest). My arms were absolute mush. I couldn't even use them to roll myself over. I sort of wiggled my feet for a bit and then used them as leverage to pry myself up on to my side and then on to my back. I did a kip-up, although at my size a kip-up only helps me to reach a seated position. There is no way in hell I could move the amount of mass needed to land on my feet. Or maybe I could, I made a note to myself to try it when I had use of my arms. With some smart maneuvering, I was able to get up to my feet to start walking home. My chest was completely black and pumped with blood, with it spreading to my shoulders, triceps, neck and upper abs. From a distance, it looked like I was wearing a black cut-off sleeveless shirt. I only had a couple of blocks left to walk and then I could try to bang out my weekend billables - I thought about how one might think that was a sexual innuendo as opposed to a business term. I tilted my head while in my "pondering" face. It would probably be both ways. ========== Morgan patted himself off after getting out of the shower. His dark ebony skin always looked fantastic wet. The drips of water trickling down his body highlighted and accentuated all of his bulges and curves. He wrapped the towel around his waist and put on his glasses to check himself out in the mirror. He still had a great body from his years of playing football, but had definitely gotten fluffy after being out of the gym for 9 years. Even with the accumulated fat, his overall muscle size had not diminished much. A couple years ago, he and his friends were going to start working out, but you know how it is. You just get busy and there always seems to be tomorrow. Back then, Morgan used to go over to his friend Mikey's house for games nights. Then, life started getting in the way. He was too tired after work, or his wife took his attention away, or he just forgot. With all of the cancellations on his end, Mikey seems to start cancelling, as well. Then, game night almost completely stopped all together. The previous day was Mikey's birthday, but again with work and the wife, etc., etc. - time just slipped away once more. They had agreed to run a game night on Saturday (today), starting in the early afternoon, since Morgan's schedule was freed up. A few other friends were also going to come over. Morgan flexed his bicep in the mirror. It mounded up to an awesome 19 inches cold. He recalled being at Mikey's house a couple of years ago and Mikey had been bigger. He did not say anything at the time or even act like he noticed it, but Morgan was definitely a little jealous. As far as he knew, Mikey did not even work out so it was a slap in the face to have smaller arms. Morgan gritted his teeth and crushed his arms a little bit harder, gaining a bit more of a peak. He made a silent resolution to himself that after today, he would make time for the gym and regain his arm dominance over the rest of the game night group. It wasn't that any of them ever talked about muscle size when playing games, but Morgan knew that the others stole glances at his rolled up t-shirts and now that attention was being shifted to Mikey. Morgan moved into his bedroom, still with the towel wrapped around him, and grabbed a couple of dumbbells hidden in the back of the closet. He began fervently pumping out bicep curls. Even if Mikey was still bigger, Morgan wanted to give the best gun show that he could. His wife, Ashley, entered the room and smirked at the sight. The two of them were polar opposites. Ashley was a humble high school teacher - she taught STEM courses. In college, she fell in love with a jock on the football team. They dated for a few years and got married. Everybody could see that they loved each other, but they had nothing in common. Morgan played football and cared about his body (even though he let it go somewhat), while Ashley was an intellectual and put more effort into Morgan's body than her own. Morgan had quit football because he was secretly a gamer and wanted to spend 10 hours on a console rather than 10 hours a day on the field. Ashley had never even played a single video game and wanted to breed animals in her spare time. Morgan liked anime, sci-fi and fantasy vs. Ash's dry British shows, romantic comedies and teen dramas. How they made it work, nobody knew. But when they were together, they somehow were the perfect match. Ash wanted to come over to game night with Morgan. She was actually friends with Mr. Briggs' sister up the street. The two Briggses lived together in the same house. Ash and the sister could then hang out while Morgan and his friends played some board games. Morgan grunted out his approval of the plan and did not even lose stride in his reps. Silently, both of them were impressed that Morgan was able to curl so much without having worked out in such a long time. If he really dedicated himself to the gym, his muscle memory would totally be like the Colorado Experiment. He grinned at the thought of gaining 50 pounds of muscle in a month. Then, there would be no way Mikey could come close to his own arms. Ashley sauntered over to her husband. His biceps were definitely getting pumped from the exercise. She had been first interested in him because he was a jock. However, things changed and their relationship evolved. When they got married, Ash stopped caring about Morgan's body because she loved his heart. Unfortunately, he had also stopped caring about his body - leading to his current state. She still loved him for him, but if he did get super buff again, Ashley would have no complaints. She ran her finger along his exposed back. He was still a little moist from the shower. His little display of power and beautiful skin was totally making her hot. Ash tilted her head a little and ran her tongue around the curve of his shoulder. Morgan slowed his reps a bit to really squeeze out at the top. He held that position as Ash buried her tongue in the bulges and grooves Morgan's pumped arms were creating. He gave a low moan of pleasure in response. Ashley went up and kissed his neck and then his cheek. While she did this, an expert flick of her wrist sent the towel to the floor. Ashley then abruptly sauntered away and out of the room, keeping one eye over her shoulder to indicate that they would save "that" for later. Morgan had a silly grin on his face, completely naked. He was also completely hard both from his wife and the bloated pump his arms felt. Even if Ash hadn't removed the towel, his cock probably would have done the same job in another minute. Morgan, still smiling, naked and hard as a rock, resumed his bicep curls. Ash basically sealed the deal in Morgan's mind. If doing a few bicep curls elicited that sort of response from his wife, he was most certainly going to dedicate any extra effort into working out. Happy wife, happy life. The prospect of what he could accomplish and how Ash would respond made him even more hard. If before he was as hard as a rock, he could now drill through steel. His dick even started to hurt from blood pounding into it. He focused on the pain and the burning sensation in his arms became background noise. On and on he kept curling the weights. His arms became so tight that he could only get halfway up before being blocked by his own skin and sinew screaming out like Popeye - it was all it could stand and it can't stands no more. Any blood not going to his arms was diverted towards his dick. It too was screaming out that it needed release. With his hands otherwise occupied, the pounding cock was on its own. Just as Morgan was about to blow without even touching himself, he slowly lowered the weights on to the bed and picked up his towel. He smirked down at little Morgan, knowing that he was going to save the energy from that masterful edging for later. Ash was going to get her just rewards for encouraging him on his new path. Morgan wiped down any remaining moisture and sweat that had built up. He draped the towel on the shower rack and turned back to the mirror. He had to clean his glasses off since they got a little condensation from the steam still in the air around the shower. Just that 10 minutes made his somewhat fluffy body look borderline jacked. He flexed his arms hard and could immediately feel the cramps that were creeping in. He didn't even care as he flexed even harder. The peaks easily exceeded 21 inches now. Then Morgan groaned as the cramp in his arms overtook him. He shook them out and massaged his biceps some. He couldn't wait to see how Mikey compared. ========== Mikey entered a dormitory at his college. He hadn't been there in many years and things looked the same yet slightly different. It was his freshman year of college and he had just arrived for the first time on campus. Inside of the entryway of the dorm was a courtyard (inside of the building). There were plants and trees, surrounded by a walking path. Birds chirped in the trees. In the center was a large ornate fountain with multiple tiers. Mikey looked up at the ceiling and there was a mural of the sun and clouds and the sky. The clouds were moving through the painting. His class for the day was meeting at the fountain, in the courtyard, inside of his dorm building. Because that's just how they roll in dream colleges. Still carrying his luggage, since he had just arrived and not yet moved into his room, Mikey walked over and sat on the grass by the fountain. There were thirty or so other students there. One was his freshman year roommate but he did not recognize any of the others. The professor stood on the edge of the fountain and began lecturing. Mikey could not hear any of the words, but instinctively knew that it was a biology lesson regarding anatomy. The professor continued speaking in garbled words, but Mikey understood all of it. The anatomy lesson went into ways to make muscles grow and change peoples sizes. The professor was now standing on the second tier of the fountain. She continued on with the lesson but somehow was on the third tier without breaking any stride. Each tier she went up, she became bigger and bigger, as if to give a real time demonstration to the class about what she was talking about. Without even Mikey realizing it, the professor was on the fourth tier and was a massive giant. Mikey was confused and impressed at the same time. He wondered how she was doing it. He looked at his fellow classmates to see their reactions and they were all giants, as well. Mikey looked down and found that he was sitting on a single blade of grass that was strong enough to hold him up. A chime rang out like in a high school, indicating that class time was over. The giant professor began to describe what everyone had to do for homework. The chime rang again, indicating that class was over once more. Mikey was distracted from his homework assignment and his heart pounded loudly three times in his chest. The other students began to pack up their things as the chime started going continuously telling them that class was over. Wait, what? Mikey's eyes opened slowly and he found himself in bed, wrapped up in a blanket. There was a rapid pounding on the front door. He groaned and dragged himself out of bed. With eyes still pretty much shut, he walked out of the bedroom like a zombie. Game Nights Part 8 - Game Night Returns Morgan parked his car after dropping off Ash down the street. He noted that someone must have already arrived since there was a car in front of Mikey's house. That was fine, Morgan was never the first one to arrive anyway. The driveway was free, so Morgan pulled in there. He adjusted his glasses and flexed his arms a little. The pump was still there, but definitely not as tight as an hour before. He got out and clicked the door locks. As he walked up to Mikey's door, he noticed someone was walking in the street about a block away. Morgan barely paid attention as he rang Mikey's doorbell. Patiently waiting, Morgan glanced back at the person approaching. Something was definitely off. The person looked like he was taller than the cars, WAY taller than the cars. Morgan's eyes almost bugged out of his head when he realized the person was a giant - he had to be somewhere in the 20 feet tall area. Slightly panicked, Morgan rang the doorbell again and knocked. He only allowed a few seconds of a response before jamming his finger into the doorbell multiple times and slamming on the door. Morgan took a step back from the doorway, his mind was racing with the fight or flight response. He had to get to his car, but would the giant attack before it made any difference? Morgan had played many video games with giants as enemies, but he had never thought that they were real. The tallest person he had heard of was 8 or 9 feet tall. The approaching goliath was at least double that. Random pictures he had seen of those tall people showed them as lanky and usually needing a cane to walk. The figure a few houses away from Morgan was not frail by any means... and... and... he had blackened skin spreading across his chest. What a chest it was, too. It was large and rugged, obviously pumped up from recent exercising. With his current state of mind, Morgan obviously couldn't get an accurate estimate on size, but it was at least a foot overhang from the giant's abs. The abs were sucked in tight, making the most incredible X-taper Morgan had ever seen. Morgan loved his wife, but the fear and a bit of awe for the muscled giant made his cock ache in his pants. Fight or Flight gave way to silently lusting to be dominated by the figure. The potential energy stored up from edging earlier was coming back with full force. Morgan heard the door open and his flight response immediately kicked back in. He tried to dart inside without averting his eyes from the street. He was sadly mistaken in his attempt as he collided with a massive hunk of flesh. He stumbled backwards and realized that it was a leg, possibly a human leg, yet impossibly huge. He tried to get away, but tripped on his own feet and tumbled to the ground. The giant from the street was upon him almost immediately. The original giant indicated to the new one in the doorway to step back. Then, he easily picked up Morgan. Completely terrified now, all Morgan could do was tremble in fear. ========== I continued walking home. As I reached about a block away, I saw Morgan at our door, ringing it frantically. I smiled and waved, but it did not seem like he saw me. I shook my head, realizing that Mikey was probably still asleep. I wondered why Morgan was visiting without calling first, but it was always a pleasure having him over. I tried to make some signal, putting my hands up to one side of my head to indicate that Mikey was sleeping. All that accomplished was to make Morgan look completely confused. Though, he did back away from the door. He must have understood enough to realize that I would have to unlock the front door and let him in. Mikey finally opened the door when I was passing our next door neighbor's house. Morgan tried to rush in - he must have been really cold standing outside. It was above freezing, but there was a certain chill in the air. I was still warm from my exercise, but quickly cooling down. Morgan took a tumble after trying to get inside. I hastened my last couple of steps to reach him. From a cursory glance, things seemed to be OK, but he was looking at me with wild eyes. I waved at Mikey to step back from the doorway - Mikey was standing there with a slightly dazed look, but did move backwards. I scooped up Morgan and carried him inside. He was shivering violently in my hands. The poor guy was definitely cold from standing outside and probably also suffering from a mild concussion. I thought that he must have hit his head when he tumbled backwards. That also would explain the wild look in his eyes. I gently held him close to my chest to warm him up as I walked inside. He was staring up at my face the entire time. But by the time I sat him down on the couch, Morgan started getting a look of recognition on his face - that was good. It meant that if he did have a concussion, it was not serious. Mikey was finally getting out of his stupor and gave Morgan a big hello with an even bigger smile on his face. Morgan also seemed to start recognizing Mikey, although he was still silent on the couch. I stood to get Morgan a glass of water. As I passed by Mikey, I slapped his arm and made a sharp jabbing motion towards my leggings. Mikey began blushing profusely and ran into the bedroom. That dummy was still wearing the crusty sheath underwear from the night before. Morgan watched the two hulks leave the room. They looked like his friends, but severely oversized. The one was definitely Mikey. Morgan would have recognized that goofy grin anywhere. Mikey always had that same grin whenever he was with other people. Although, Mikey was no where near 15 feet tall. Wasn't he? Morgan closed his eyes and pictured the last time that he came to a game night. It was still the same image that he had from earlier in his own bathroom. Mikey was a little more than 6 feet tall. This guy was over two times that amount and two times wider than Mikey, as well. Morgan also pictured Mikey's roommate at that time and he was something like 6'4" or 6'5" or so. Roommate... Mikey lived alone, right? The coffee I had made around an hour before was still hot and obviously Mikey had not drunk any of it. I knew he wouldn't mind if I poured Morgan a cup. I rummaged through the cabinet and grabbed a little person glass and little person coffee mug. Those things were so silly. Why would anybody ever drink 8 ounces of liquid? That amount could not even be considered a mouthful. But the little people seemed to like it, so Mikey and I kept some of the smaller sizes in our kitchen. Pouring the coffee had to be done somewhat delicately. I tilted the pot slightly so that a little splash could fall into the mug. Then I did it a few more times and got pretty close to the top. I just used the refrigerator dispenser for the water and brought both back to Morgan. As I was placing them on the end table, Mikey came back out wearing shorts and a t-shirt that only covered his pecs and about half of his shoulders. I took that as an opportunity to throw something else on. I remembered my meeting with Ms. Ellie earlier and realized that I too was probably a tad on the revealing side wearing only my leggings. I could hear Mikey exclaim that he had forgotten about game night and just woke up from a nap. He apologized to Morgan - though I still could not hear any responses from Morgan from the bedroom. Morgan was trying to organize all of the questions in his head. The first obvious one was to find out how all of this happened. But the question did not escape from his lips. The relevance of the question faded as he tried to figure out what "all of this" even meant. Mikey just started chatting about some video game he had played a few nights ago. Morgan went through the motions of acting like he was listening - nodding his head and such - but was still focused on his own questions. After that brief distraction, Morgan could not remember the original question. Was he going to ask if Mikey had been working out? Or was it about the blackness on my chest? Morgan turned those questions over in his head and then brushed them aside. Of course Mikey had not be working out because he was naturally big and muscular. And the blackness was obvious from the sulfur rich blood binding to the iron in my hemoglobin. Morgan tried harder to figure out his questions. He knew that Mikey and I were roommates and both stayed in our house since we had home businesses. He also knew that he was a little person, even though in the back of his mind, he felt like he was normal sized a few hours ago. But that didn't make sense to him. How could he have possibly been normal when he was quite obviously small. Finally, Morgan blurted out the question that was bothering him. He asked Mikey why he was wearing only underwear when he answered the door. Both of them started laughing as Mikey tried to explain that we got drunk last night and he did not recall what happened. He had found himself asleep in my bed wearing only that. Since Mikey was woken up from the nap, he was still groggy and did not realize what was actually happening. I could hear the laughter in the other room. It made me feel good because it meant that Morgan was returning to his normal self. I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and put on some underwear and a new pair of leggings. Underwear never seemed to do much, but I bet that my friends appreciated the little bit of extra effort. However, everybody knew that shirts did not really fit me well and that I would always go without them while at home. My chest was still black, but most of it had started fading from everywhere else. I returned to the living room and waved at Morgan. He no longer had the wild look in his eyes and was not shivering anymore. Morgan was happy to see me and asked how I was doing. I smiled and shrugged. I wiggled my hand in a "so-so" motion. He said that he felt the same. Work was always crazy busy and he and Ash had begun talking about starting a family. There was always so much on his mind that he was glad to do something fun other than video games for a change. He also mentioned that Ash was up the street at the Briggses. Mikey made him promise that Ash would stop by to say hi before they went home. Mikey was now sitting on the floor in front of Morgan with me leaning against the wall, standing to Mikey's left side. I caught Mikey staring at Morgan's arms as they chatted. I tapped his shoulder lightly to snap him out of it. He just bluntly asked if Morgan had been working out. Morgan got a sheepish smile on his face and said that he had just started again a few hours prior to coming over. He also went into Ashley's response to the exercise. I was a little taken aback since we usually did not broach the subject of sex or Morgan's marital relations. What he said next, though, really shocked me. He told us that whenever he was at our home, he felt a little bicurious. He still absolutely loved his wife and never wanted to do anything that might jeopardize the relationship. But he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with a couple of normal sized guys like us even for one night. Morgan started trying to rationalize his feelings by saying that a little person and a normal person being together would technically not break any wedding vows since normal people like Mikey and I could never actually have sex with a little person. Or at least not have sex in any regular sense of the word. Mikey tilted his head back towards me and we gave each other a sharp look. Mikey obviously was having as much trouble dealing with this as I was. Morgan looked up at us in earnest. He had the expression that you get when you know that what you just said is about to be mocked and ridiculed. Mikey and I were totally on the same wavelength. The last thing we wanted to do was make Morgan feel ashamed. Mikey started easing into his response. He told Morgan that any type of sex, even irregular sex, would be breaking his vows. Neither Mikey nor I wanted to be the cause of a failed marriage. Morgan looked down with a hurt and dejected expression. Mikey thought for a few seconds on what he should say next. He reached over and put his hand on Morgan's shoulder, basically engulfing the left side of our friend's body. Mikey continued by saying that there may be a loophole. Muscle worship could avoid the sexual parts and still give Morgan the experience of being "with us". I had to nod in agreement. A married person is allowed to worship muscles as long as it does not go too far. Morgan looked up at us with the cutest smile I had ever seen. It was the look at pure joy and acceptance. He nodded with tears welling up in his eyes. He said that he would like that very much. Mikey pulled in Morgan close to give him a big hug. We were both so happy that our friend felt comfortable enough to open up about his feelings. That kind of subject is never easy to broach if you do not know what the response will be. In the middle of the hug, our doorbell rang. I gave Morgan a light pat on the back as I went for the door. It was Bill Briggs. I could hear Mikey whisper to Morgan that they would talk more later. Then, Morgan went for a tissue before the newcomer could see that he had been crying. Opening up to two friends was his limit. Briggs cheered about having game night starting up again when I opened the door. He was breathing heavy from walking the couple of blocks to our house. I figured he would have driven over, but was proud of my friend for at least getting a little bit of exercise. He put up his fist so that we could "pound it". It was more like him tapping his tiny fist onto my index finger knuckle. I grinned and ushered him in. The three of them all started talking to each other about video games and what not. We set up one of those online party games just to get things rolling. The afternoon faded into evening as they continued chatting and we all switched to playing some board games. It was really nice having Morgan and Briggs back at game night. I could not recall the last time they had visited. Game Nights Part 9 - Let the Worship Begin Later into the evening, Ash and the lady Briggs walked down the street and rang our doorbell. We had just finished up one of the games a few minutes prior and everyone was chilling out before starting up a new game. So really their timing was almost perfect. Everyone seemed happy to see each other and hugs and kisses went around. Bill had already seen Ash earlier when Morgan had dropped her off. It boiled down to just Morgan and Jess Briggs hugging and kissing. For Mikey and me, it was kind of leaning in and patting the sides of our thighs. That was good enough for us, anyway. It wasn't really an occasion calling for us to get all the way to the ground and floundering around for hugs. The Briggses were first to call it quits. They left together and walked back up the street. Jess was on the slim side - a testament to how genetics and diet can alter how even siblings look. I guessed that she would not be winded after walking home in the cold. She had shivered a little bit as she entered our home upon arrival, but was not breathing any heavier than a normal little person would have been. I could definitely feel the chill in the air, but I was still fine being shirtless. Bill was probably collapsing from breathing heavy after the two blocks of walking. Mikey and Ash talked for a while afterwards. Every once in a while, Morgan interjected a comment. Of course, I was the strong silent type - being mute and all. I knew only a little bit of conversational sign language. None of my friends knew sign language, anyway, so my responses were more like charades. I did not feel bad being left out of most conversations. If there ever was something that I needed to say, I could get my point across or write it down if it was absolutely necessary. When Ash started getting tired, she dropped a few hints to Morgan - ones that he was completely oblivious to. A little while later, Ash was still dropping hints, so I tapped on my wrist to get Morgan's attention with a "check out the time on my watch" gesture (not that a watch could even fit on my wrist). It did not even occur to me how odd the gesture was since watches could not fit any normal sized person and were made just for little people. He finally realized what time it was and dropped a hint back to Ash that it was getting late. Both she and I rolled our eyes at each other. Mikey spoke up as they were making their way to the door. He asked Morgan to stop by again tomorrow around noon and we could all catch up more since it had been a couple years of only talking online. Morgan smiled gratefully and wished us a good night. Mikey and I stayed up for a little bit longer playing some video games. Eventually, Mikey passed out on the couch. I could see him dozing before he nodded off completely. He was probably still groggy after having been woken up from a sound sleep 10 hours or so before. I figured it was a good time to go to bed myself. After all, the previous night I felt like I only got 3 or 4 hours of sleep and even then I had slept on my bench. ========== Mikey took a walk through the neighborhood. The street was narrow with no side streets. In-between each of the houses, he could see the backs of neighboring houses on the parallel streets. The street itself was narrow, around wide enough for one little person car to fit down, or one Mikey in this case. All of the houses were the same dimensions in the sub-division and basically had the same beige/tan exterior and reddish brown shingled roofs. Mikey knew this place well. It was his new home and he felt welcomed and comfortable. It was very relaxing walking down the street and he felt like he could do it forever. From above, he could see that the sub-division was based on a peninsula surrounded by water as far as the eye could see. He dove down from the sky and landed on a telephone pole - Mikey was a crow. From his vantage point, he could see the town center and an elderly gentleman shuffling through and intersection in the distance. Immediately, he was upon the man, back in his human form. He could now see that the older figure was a little person, but so was Mikey after his transformation. Mikey was even a few inches shorter than the hunched gentleman. The realization shook Mikey to the core and gave him some recollection that he should not be there in the sub-division. It was not his home and something was very wrong with the place. The calm and relaxing feelings were a facade. Mikey was also able to bring the old man out of his stupor. They both knew that they had to escape. The pair of little people quickly made their way to the town center. They found a tall white skyscraper traveling up into the clouds. It was completely out of place in a cookie-cutter sub-division but at the same time seemed to belong there. The sheer magnitude of the building made them feel tiny and insignificant. Mikey and the old man ran into the building and started climbing the steps. The entrance had looked like an office building atrium. The steps seemed like the best option since they did not exactly know what they were doing there. Around the 5th floor, they exited the staircase and could see a hallway encased in glass. The hallway overlooked the atrium five floors below. As they ran through the hallway, two security guards stepped out in front of them. They told Mikey that the old man was coming with them but that Mikey should leave. As Mikey began to protest, the world began to fade into darkness. Mikey woke up in his bed. He lived with his girlfriend - not as lovers, just a girl who was his best friends with. Mikey knew this place well. It was his home and he felt welcomed and comfortable. It was very relaxing in his bed and felt like he could stay there forever. ========== Mikey woke up and the dream quickly vanished from his mind like a puff of smoke before he even had a chance to think about it. He looked around the room with bleary eyes. He was in the living room and the sun was up. He then looked down and around himself - he had fallen asleep on the couch. He felt something weird on his pecs as he moved his head around. He reached up and felt his face, he could tell that he was sporting a full beard since he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. His pecs were also completely covered with fur. It was emerging from the neckline of his tight shirt. He also felt that his stomach was complete covered in fur, as well. He looked over at the time and saw that it was around 11 AM. He continued scratching at the beard and decided to get cleaned up since Morgan was scheduled to be there around noon. Mikey got up and made a pot of coffee - knowing that I would probably want a cup. During the night before, I had had a half of a cup while Briggs and Morgan had finished the rest. Mikey just rinsed out the pot and set up the machine again. He then lazily walked down the hallway to my room. I had woken up a few hours prior and was already upstairs at the computer. I hadn't completely caught up on sleep, but the 4 or 5 hours that I had gotten were solid. It was enough to make it through most of the day. I realized that I hadn't had time to finish my billable hours the previous day because of everyone coming over. Right when I woke up, I didn't even hesitate to pull myself together. I was past halfway on my contract work when I heard the beeps from the coffee machine. I decided to ignore it and keep focused on finishing up. Mikey stripped down to take a shower in the master bathroom. He hadn't even gotten cleaned up from the adventures two days ago. Since Morgan was coming over for some muscle worship, Mikey wanted to at least be presentable. Nothing would kill the mood more than him knocking out Morgan with some ripe smells. As the water warmed up some, Mikey checked out his fur in the mirror. It seemed completely unfamiliar, but he could not recall when or if it wasn't there. It was a mousy blond color, closer to brown than blond. It completely covered his pecs, but stopped at his neck and shoulders. On his stomach, it framed out his abs with it a little thicker at the divisions between each ab. He sucked in his gut a little bit and flexed. The hair condensed together and formed a much darker outline bordering around the individual ab muscles. He relaxed and it still showed perfect definition even back in the regular turtleshell shape. He ran his hand over the hair and it felt rough and sturdy, not like the silkiness that blondish hair usually has. In the shower, Mikey could see a little bit of residue from my fun in the early hours of yesterday morning. Since he was cleaning himself anyway, Mikey just cleaned the tile walls while he was at it. I had taken a very quick shower before running upstairs and was simply dressed in a pair of boxer briefs, which fit more like tighty whities. As Mikey was finishing drying himself off, he heard the doorbell ring followed by a few knocks. I also heard it from upstairs but wanted to finish up my work. It was pretty quick for Mikey to throw on one of his favorite pairs of underwear - the sheath style briefs and go answer the door. He opened the door and welcomed Morgan in. Morgan found himself in stunned silence seeing the mostly naked man before him with slightly damp fur running up from his crotch and over his pecs. A flashback of yesterday hit him and he remembered bouncing off of Mikey's legs as he tried to enter the house. Morgan absentmindedly started reaching for Mikey's legs, but Mikey quickly turned away. The motion sent his soft penis sheath swinging like a pendulum. Mikey walked towards the staircase and asked Morgan to shut the door behind him. He then came up the steps to let me know that Morgan had arrived (obviously calling up to me would not have received a response). I indicated that I needed a little bit of time. Mikey nodded, getting the drift of what was happening, and went back down to Morgan. I could hear some muffled voices downstairs, but continued pushing through on my projects. ========== Mikey sat on the floor with Morgan on the couch, just like they did yesterday. They chatted awkwardly for a little bit - nothing all too important and basically trying to ease into the topic of muscle worship. Finally Mikey broke past the elephant in the room (in this case the elephant was the topic being avoided and not Mikey and his big "trunk"). He asked Morgan what he was hoping to get out of the muscle worship. Morgan did not really know what to answer. He started talking about seeing size comparisons and then feats of strength and feeling our muscles and seeing both of us wrestle and getting involved with the wrestling (as much as he could) and measuring us and even seeing what spooning with a normal sized person and little person would be like. He was basically all over the place. Mikey had to slow him down. If we got into everything that Morgan was describing, it would take all night and basically lose its meaning. We needed to have a more concise plan so that we could all get the most enjoyment as possible out of the experience. Mikey started out with the feats of strength. To do this, we would basically have to go out into the cold - it was 5 degrees chillier than the previous day - and play around at the park. Mikey described our workout routines with the monster truck. Any of the larger objects at the park would require both Mikey and myself to even have a chance of lifting them. But then Morgan came to the realization that he would have no frame of reference during the worship. He had no idea what lifting a monster truck or anything larger would entail. Morgan could not lift a car, let alone a huge truck. The feats of strength would basically be lost on him other than it was something large that he could not budge with no perspective of the actual weight. The wrestling might have been interesting. I had a bit more strength than Mikey, but he definitely had the leverage over me with his weight and stockiness. Either of us could lift the other one, but we had never tried struggling to stay on the ground while wrestling each other. If we did go that route, we definitely could not let Morgan get involved. That would be a guaranteed injury, if not worse. Even with Mikey and I going at it, one slip and half of the house could be taken out. Bringing it outside would be like driving a massive stake into a major seismic fault line. The tremors would be felt throughout the neighborhood. Yeah, Mikey and Morgan agreed that it might be better to ease into wrestling some other time. So then they started discussing size comparisons and spooning with a little person. Both sort of go hand in hand. Morgan would be able to feel our muscles envelope him and just keep the whole session calm and relaxing. Mikey mentioned too that leaving it more as a relaxed sensual experience instead of a testosterone charged one might keep us on track with maintaining his wedding vows. They then began discussing some positions that they could try out. While talking about it, Morgan got up and started massaging Mikey's feet. They continued conversing as Morgan massaged. Mikey's feet were huge in Morgan's hands. They seemed like they were around 2 feet long and Morgan could not even get close to wrapping both hands around even at the smallest width. Mikey's big toes were a few inches thicker than Morgan's wrists. Morgan moved up to Mikey's calves. Morgan edged his way in-between the big legs stretched out in front as Mikey still sat on the floor. Morgan could barely hug the plump pillows that Mikey's calf muscles formed. Mikey's words trailed off as he watched Morgan messaging his legs. His brain drifted away from whatever he was trying to say and became completely tuned in to the little person's motions. Mikey twisted his left leg - the one that currently held Morgan's attention - and flexed it slowly. The plump flesh began to harden under Morgan's finger tips. It was not shredded looking, but Morgan could feel how dense it was. He tried to jam his thumb into the calf but his efforts were easily repelled. Mikey reached forward and gingerly lifted Morgan up with his hand and set him back down on the other side of his right leg. Mikey then laid down on his side with his legs on top of each other so that Morgan could access both at the same time. Morgan kneeled down and traced up both of Mikey's shins with his fingers. When he reached Mikey's knees, Morgan cupped the massive quads in front of him. He then surprised Mikey by climbing up the shins like a ladder and straddling Mikey's left knee. Morgan turned slightly and placed his right hand on the calf just behind him and left hand on the deep groove in-between Mikey's quad and hamstring. He began to rock back and forth, gently massaging both Mikey's upper and lower leg at the same time. It had been over an hour since Morgan had arrived. I no longer heard the voices from upstairs. It did not matter, though, as I was shutting down the computer. I had just finished my work for the weekend and was curious to see what the two guys downstairs were up to. Game Nights Part 10 - Conclusion of Chapter 1 I came down the staircase and saw Morgan straddling the mostly naked Mikey's leg. Not like I was any better wearing a pair of boxer briefs that that were now wedged in-between my ass cheeks from sitting, standing and shifting around upstairs. Morgan had taken off his shirt by this point, revealing his white undershirt. The sleeves of his undershirt were slightly strained around his biceps and crept up into the space just below his shoulders. He still had his pants, shoes and socks on. Seeing the scene below me, I pictured Morgan riding a stallion as he rocked back and forth rubbing his hands over the mounds of flesh. I sat down behind Mikey, leaning over but propped up with my right hand on the floor. I followed Morgan's lead with massaging Mikey's legs. Morgan was prevented from denting the tissue, but I easily managed to get in deeper into the muscle with my free hand. Mikey let out a low moan. He could not recall having been massaged before, but it felt better than anything he could have imagined. Even Morgan rubbing the skin felt fantastic. It was like when someone rubs their fingers along your scalp. They aren't penetrating any tissue, but it always feels so good. I massaged up Mikey's hamstring to where it met his glute. Not expecting it, Mikey twitched in excitement. Morgan bounced off of the powerful leg like a ragdoll. Luckily I was able to catch him. From my elbow to finger tip, was about five feet long. Morgan landed on my arm and just laid there limp. His head was resting on my bicep and his entire body down to the shoes filled up the space of my forearm, hand and fingers. I shifted my weight a little and used my right hand to gently pull off Morgan's shoes. He shimmied a little to start removing his pants and then the undershirt. I took all of the items and tossed them on to the couch (which was almost within arm's reach). Morgan was then lying on my forearm in his boxers and socks. He felt his back spread out over my forearm and began to grope around behind himself. I could see him tenting in his boxers from the experience of laying on a bed made of muscle. He started reaching for himself but I stopped him. He looked up at my face in protest. I simply smiled and shook my head. He nodded back knowing that the rule was not to go too far with this. Meanwhile, Mikey had rolled over on to his stomach, with his arms out to the sides. I tilted my arm downward and Morgan was able to slide off on to the floor next to Mikey. Mikey's right arm would reach up to Morgan's waist, usually, but Mikey was propped up by his massive chest in that position. The top of Mikey's tricep was now up around Morgan's shoulders. Morgan began to trace the definition between Mikey's arm and shoulder muscles. He once again climbed up the flesh and sat above the elbow, just below where the tricep horseshoed around the arm. As he started massaging the tricep and down around to the bicep, Mikey shifted a little and got into a pushup position with his hands placed closer to his waist than his chest. Morgan was propped up a few feet off of the ground, but still stable. I stayed close by to catch Morgan in case he was flung off again. Mikey began doing pushups, but slowly and only around halfway up to keep the angle small enough for Morgan to stay on. Morgan grasped the edge of a horseshoe with one hand while he felt the rest of the tricep tense underneath of him. Now he looked like he was riding a bull at a rodeo, hanging on while the animal bucked and tried to shake him loose. After a couple of minutes of this, both Mikey and Morgan were panting a little bit from the exertion. Morgan slid to the ground and Mikey pushed himself up on to all fours - knees and hands touching the floor. I shifted around Morgan to get closer to Mikey's head, now kneeling to get a better vantage point and free up both of my hands. In this position, the top of Mikey's tricep was taller than Morgan. Mikey could feel (but not see) that Morgan was going under him. In response, he exhaled and arched his back to pull in a full vacuum. Morgan was about to get on to his hands and knees to crawl under, but the vacuumed gut pulled up enough that he could just walk upright into the space. Morgan took off his glasses and handed them to me. I put them on to the mantle behind me. He then closed his eyes and slowly walked into the cave. Mikey's still damp fur on his stomach was hanging down around 5 or 6 inches and brushed across Morgan's face. He lifted his head up and took a deep inhale. He felt like he was a car in a car wash but at the same time he was in a tropical rain forest. He felt the heat and moisture surrounding him. He was shaken out of his fantasy world when he tripped on a fallen tree. Or rather, Mikey's semi-hard cock got in the way. Morgan knelt down and gently ran his hands from the base of the sheath all the way up to the tip. Mikey's eyes rolled back into his head as he let out a rumble - almost more like a low growl than a moan. I snapped my finger and both of them looked over at me. I waggled my finger at them and they immediately stopped to make sure that it didn't go any further. Almost on cue for not going further, there was a knock at the door. I absently mindedly reached over and opened it. The sweet smell of cookies wafted into the room. Ms. Ellie came waltzing in without an invitation and gingerly kicked the door closed behind her, not even phased by what was happening. Shit, I had forgotten she had said that should would bring cookies over sometime this weekend. I did not even hear the car outside with my mind focused on the action in front of me. Much to all of our surprise, Ms. Ellie put the cookies on the floor and said that she was going to join in (it was said as a statement of fact instead of asking permission). She did not even bat an eye in embarrassment. Ms. Ellie completely ignored Morgan underneath of Mikey - she obviously had no interest in a married man or what adventures he might undertake in his free time. Mikey and I gave each other a quick glance and just shrugged. She walked up to Mikey and rubbed her fingers through his chest fur and then clamped down with fingers intertwined in the hair. She pulled him in for a full on motorboat in his pec cleavage. Morgan felt Mikey's cock twitch next to him and start to get completely hard. Ms. Ellie then pet the side of Mikey's pec and moved on to me. Mikey was left in a daze, but never faltered in his stomach vacuum - knowing that Morgan was under there. Morgan started crawling out from the cave, going in-between the massive pillars of Mikey's arms. It was a tight squeeze getting out with Mikey's hardening cock and huge globular pecs - further enhanced in size from the expanded ribcage - obstructing the way. Mikey finally inhaled again as Morgan got out. He still could not see Morgan, but could feel the little guy at his pecs. Morgan took a page from Ms. Ellie's book and grabbed on to the chest hair. He began scaling up Mikey's pecs, using the hair for hand holds. He easily reached the top and sat down on one of the pecs. He kicked his feet around to rest on the other pec and laid back with his head on Mikey's shoulder. Ms. Ellie climbed up on to my legs and went straight for my abs. Since I did not breath, I was in a perpetual vacuum pose. My organs had all shifted up into my chest cavity at some point, giving me an incredibly tiny waist. It also gave plenty of space for someone Ms. Ellie's size to walk in under my ribcage. She turned around, planted a foot on each of my legs and started grinding her backside ever so slowly over my stomach. My ab columns flexed involuntarily. It gave Ms. Ellie a two foot wide ribbed plank to lean against. She grabbed on to the skin bordering the sides of the columns and held on tight as she grinded up and down, up and down. It was like she wanted to clean her delicates on a washboard just as tall and even wider than she was. With her back pressed up against them and hand gripping the sides, she was basically stroking my abs like they were a gigantic cock. If I could have moaned, it would have been the longest moan in the history of the world. I could literally feel my abs getting harder and tighter as she continued to stroke. They began turning black as night with iron sulfide accumulating in them. They were flexed so hard that my chest was being pulled downward. No longer would Ms. Ellie be able to stand straight up, but luckily standing up was not on her agenda. Meanwhile, Morgan had started crawling around Mikey's neck and was massaging his traps. He then slid, head and hands first, down the middle of Mikey's back. It was slippery enough with some moisture from Mikey's shower mixed with a bit of sweat building as things were heating up quickly in there. Morgan turned himself around and started massaging Mikey's lats. The lats spread out just as far as Morgan could reach. Morgan really pushed hard into the lats to massage them. He placed his feet on to the top of Mikey's glutes to use his entire body in an effort to dig into the tissue. It must have been working because Mikey was grunting from the pressure on his glutes and running up his back. Ms. Ellie stopped her grinding and instructed me to lean over. I put my hands on the floor in front of me as I was told. I was thankful that my abs could get a reprieve. Still standing on my legs, she was now within reach of my nipples and she took full advantage of her position to fondle them. I had never paid much attention to my nipples, but they were now harder than an awl and just about as long as one (though much much thicker). I could have poked a hole in a tree large enough for a family of birds to live in. The doorbell rang, and I instinctively opened the door again without an ounce of brain power dedicated to the task. Mr. Briggs popped in cheering about a second game night, although he barely got one word out of his mouth as he began to grasp what was happening before him. He had seen the three cars at our place and figured we were going to play some more games. He was sadly mistaken, although not entirely upset by what he walked in to. He swung the door closed and just stared. Neither Mikey nor I were fully aware that he had even come in. Mikey was still grunting and moaning when he looked up and saw Briggs standing there watching him. In complete shock, he quickly pushed himself up, sending Morgan tumbling off behind him (luckily Morgan didn't break anything). In the motion, Mikey's fully erect cock thrust forward, impaling Briggs' face on the wall. More accurately might be that Briggs' head slightly impaled the head of Mikey's sheath underwear. Mikey tried to scooch forward to assist, but all that accomplished was pushing further into Briggs. Briggs was lifted off the ground by Mikey's cock, hanging there all 350 pounds of him lifted up by a massive penis sheath. It all happened within a second or two and we could instantly hear cracking from Bill's spine from the pressure/torsion it was under. But something even worse came next. Mikey was already at the point of orgasm when he sat up, from Morgan digging into his back. With someone's head jammed into his cock, it sent him over the edge and he blew his load. Luckily, Mikey was wearing the underwear or else he might have shattered Briggs through the wall to the outside. With his head completely pinned, all Briggs could do was try to swallow, though most of it was spilling out, covering his head immediately and quickly moving its way down his body. Morgan pulled himself to his feet, slightly dazed, and walked around Mikey to see what was happening. He stopped in stunned silence when Briggs came into view. Even Ms. Ellie had stopped fondling me in shock and awe of the scene in front of us. It all lasted for about 5 minutes. Five minutes of Briggs pinned 2 feet off the ground by his head partway wedged into Mikey's penis. The initial shock faded into an acceptance of the situation. What was happening now was just the natural order of things. When it was finally order, Mikey's softening cock slowly slid Briggs back to the floor. He was alive and panting a little for air, but he seemed no worse for wear other than his glasses looking slightly bent. The cracking we all heard must have been from the wall behind him - although there were no visible dents or cracks in it. ========== Bill Briggs was already a cute guy. He had this goofy and nerdy demeanor about him. He had a shaved head (bald since his teens according to him). Bill always wore glasses and sported a thick beard - neatly shaped and trimmed to about 4 or 5 inches long. It was just long enough to hide his neck. He obviously had a ton of DHT going on with the baldness and beard, but also with his body hair. I had only seen part of his belly exposed once (or twice including now with him hanging there), and his stomach was completely covered in fur. Surprisingly, though, his arms and legs were devoid of hair. Bill always wore shorts regardless of the temperature. I remember one guy back in college wore shorts every day like that. There was only once that I saw him with pants on and it was the hottest day of that school year. He probably had an interview or something, but the thought always makes me laugh. I had never seen Bill in pants, though. He always seemed to have a t-shirt on, too. Though he would wear a jacket when traveling in the cold - not today though for his quick jaunt down the street. His collection of nerdy logo-t's must have been as huge as he was. At 5'10" 350, Bill was by no means a tiny man. He was also gay, but still in the closet with his friends and family (especially with his house mate sister, Jess). I could always detect it when he was around. He never did anything remotely "gay", but he would have a far away look in his eye for just a moment whenever the Italian bodybuilder Donny was mentioned in a conversation. He never once had that same expression for anybody else. I always hoped that some day Donny might notice him, but Donny cared about Donny and did not want anything to do with big Bill. When Bill started to grow, it was subtle at first. He still looked like a fat man, but the shape changed more than the size. His chest began to inflate in his shirt, filling in the space in-between it and his beard. The lower parts of his chest were no longer flattened and traveling off to the sides of his stomach. They began to crease the center of the logo on his t-shirt and form gulley traveling down from his shoulders ever so slightly. Bill's shoulder span started to look like that neat thing heavy guys get - where if he wore a backpack, it would be a mile stretch to reach the tips of his shoulders. He did not have any clear definition where his neck met his traps, where his traps met his shoulders or any real shape to his shoulders at all. It was just a football field to get across them. With the mile long shoulder width and chest beginning to fill his shirt, Bill began to look like he was leaning backwards. His shoulders were placed so far behind his head, his chest was now so far past his beard and still his stomach was so far past his chest. Add in that his arm angle was already facing forward, sitting at rest, you almost felt like telling him to stand up straight because he would be a foot taller. But then looking at him from the side, you could see that he already was standing up straight and just had unbelievable proportions. A couple of things did change completely in Bill Briggs' favor. The first was that his arms filled in the t-shirt sleeves. It being a 6XL shirt already, the sleeves just sort of hung there. It wasn't that Bill had skinny arms before, it was just such an excess of fabric. Before, the shirt was draped over his shoulders. Now his shoulders gave a really nice shape to the top of the shirt and then his growing arms did the rest of the work. The second was in his shorts. At one point the shorts hung down with a huge excess of fabric just like his t-shirt had. The waist length on the shorts was very large, but his thighs did not completely fill the legs. So the image you can get from it was completely flat looking on both on the front and back sides. Regular guy clothing is usually very flat, so if you have any bit of an ass or bulge, you have to squeeze in or get a larger size. Yet, big-and-tall guy clothing is massive on both sides and then just hangs awkwardly, giving a horrible silhouette that further kills any body image that the guy might have of himself. This was also true of any of the shorts Briggs would wear. With his growth, the backside of Mr. Briggs' 7XL shorts was stuffed with two large oval-shaped watermelons. There was certainly enough fabric to fit even more size, but his ass at least took care of the awkwardness. On the front, he started filling in behind the zipper. It looked like a cucumber was stuffed in there, but it was completely soft - giving a nice curve that pushed on the zipper without straining it. Just like with his t-shirt sleeves, the legs of the shorts were filling up with stout powerlifter legs. These legs pushed the bulges on the front and back sides upwards and slightly more out. Where alone, they would not have been straining the shorts, with his thighs growing in, it looked like the shorts were now getting close to busting at the seems. Bill was still up against the wall. His head was no longer touching as his massive back propped him up. His lower back still had visible space between it and the wall. I could have stuck my hand into that space. However, his watermelon ass cheeks also now touched the wall, giving a wide curve to his back side. The space was slightly obscured by the huge hams shoved into his triceps. On the front side of his shirt, there was now a shelf. His chest had gained so much meat that it was almost a completely horizontal surface sticking out a foot from his beard. The entire surface almost merged with his shoulders, making his head look like it was sitting on a serving platter. Bill's legs were just thick, so sickeningly thick that they oozed power. His legs now rivaled my waist. The big ball gut was no longer sagging under its own weight, but rather looked like a solid boulder that you could use as a heavy punching bag. With it and his bulge lifted, Bill's silhouette was incredibly attractive. Donny would no longer be able to ignore this powerhouse. I licked my lips looking the new Bill over. I identify as asexual - note that while Ms. Ellie's efforts were insanely pleasurable, I was not aroused by it and kept it in my pants... underwear. Though, even I had the thought in the back of my head about taking the new Briggs for a test run. If only I was a little person, maybe I would try it. We all looked at Bill with some amazement and wonder. Everyone else's breath was as silent as my own. We could hear his shirt and shorts groan ever so slightly before things normalized and he stopped growing. He started a bit under six feet at 350 pounds. He was now standing around 6'2" and quite a bit more than 500 pounds. He looked like he could walk into any World's Strongest Man competition and take the title in his sleep. The flab was still totally there, but he looked powerful. An elite powerlifter might reach 1,500 pounds raw on the big 3 with numbers upwards around 2,000 when on major gear. Just looking at Bill now, we would all be shocked if he couldn't hit a raw 5,000 pounds and then some. Bill was just as much in shock as the rest of us. However, the more times we blinked over the minutes of just staring, the more normal it all seemed. Why were we all staring at Bill in shock? Did he say something unusual when he walked in? Bill looked up at Mikey and mumbled a question about what was happening. Mikey shook his head and the thoughts completely faded. Mikey recounted events of Bill coming in and probably wanting to get involved with the muscle worship. He then apologized for losing control and shooting off. Bill wiped some of the spunk from his face and smiled, accepting the apology. That was what happened, Mikey was correct. The shock we all felt was from Mikey losing his control, it all made sense now. But my attention was then turned to Mikey. After all of this, did he look smaller? In my head, I remembered how Mikey was 10 feet tall, but he was looking like a 9 foot tall person, or maybe even less. A wave overtook Mikey and he flopped backwards off of his knees. Suddenly, all of the dreams he had over the past few days flooded into his head. The prison, the school, the suburb - the memories of feeling like he was falling through the sky although it was really him shrinking. The dreams were coming true. Mikey started crying as the realization that his life was a lie dawned on him. He was not a 7 foot tall man and he did not have any real muscle development. Mikey ended his descent at 5'5". His memories from a few years ago leaked into his subconscious and told him that he should be 5'2". It seemed like he kept some of the height growth from whatever had happened since then. Suddenly, he was very aware of his body and his slightly below average penis with the huge sheath underwear draped over him. He was still crying as he ran his naked little body upstairs to the office. He found some of his old clothing and put it on. Nobody in the living room could think of what to say or how to comfort him. It did not matter, though. By the time he came back down, we looked at each other and smiled. Bill commented about not realized that Mikey was upstairs. Ms. Ellie walked over to him and comforted him. She asked him why it looked like he was crying, but Mikey did not know the answer. None of us did, really. I could not recall why Mikey was even at my house. Morgan had come over for muscle worship. I did not understand why Mr. Briggs, Ms. Ellie or Mr. Mikey had come over. Oh right, Mr. Mikey and Ms. Ellie came over to drop off cookies. They lived together, but for some reason took two cars coming over. I noticed the car keys on the mantel next to Morgan's glasses and tossed them to Mikey. I remembered thinking that it was a neighbor's car, but I now recognized it as Mikey's. Mr. Briggs said that he should head home and gave me a quick fist bump. The jab of his fist really hurt - it was definitely going to bruise my knuckle. He was always doing that to me. Powerlifters never seem to realize their own strength. Morgan thanked me, put on his cloths, glasses and shoes and headed out, as well. Ms. Ellie was still comforting Mikey and told me that they would swing by next weekend to see how I was doing. She always worried about me living alone and working from home. They walked outside and got into their separate cars to drive back to their house. I went about my business cleaning up. I did not remember ejaculating during the muscle worship, but the wall where Mr. Briggs was standing was wet with spunk. I just shrugged, since I lived alone it did not matter too much. I then noticed the sheath underwear on the floor. I scratched my head since I never wear those things - how did it get on the floor and why was it damp?

Yes, I know: Another one too similar to the ones I have written in the past, but I wanted to let it out of my system. I hope someone will enjoy it anyhow. The third report "Initiating the third report. It is now... Ehhhh... 1308 hours on the appointed date, and the test subject has entered the chamber. If I may speak frankly, Sir, I would lie, if I told you, that I am not disappointed by your absence, but I hope, that this voice report will reach you, as soon as you will be back from your emergency mission. Our research project is proceeding slightly ahead of schedule, which is a good sign. As I mentioned in the first report and the second report, it seems like I have been able to bring the levels of pain down to the negligible, and I have also found a way to alleviate the residual pain, which will silence those who doubted that The Procedure would be within the perimeters of the ethical guidelines. Present in Lab 2 is me – that is Dr. Dubois – Guard number 4, Test Subject X1 and Test Subject X2. Test Subject X3 is already inside the chamber, awaiting the presumed effect of The Procedure. The same is presently working on a level of 23%, and we are thereby beyond the former upper limit of 20%." The sound of heartbeats and the beeping sound of a pulse meter. A hissing sound. "I am increasing the saturation of interior atmosphere, and activate the binaural-isochronic subliminals. The blood pressure of Test Subject X3 is decreasing, probably as a side effect of the analgetic stimulus. The prophylactically administered myostatin inhibitors are expected to have reached full impact by now, and it is now three days since Test Subject X3 was initially injected with the DNA-altering virus. The time schedule for injection of testosterone-enhancers was slightly re-arranged into a pattern deemed more optimal: The first one before sleep yesterday evening, the second one at reveille, and the third one at 1300 hours, now ten minutes ago. An increased production of perspiration is noticed." The sound of heartbeats and the beeping sound of a pulse meter. The hissing sound continued. "The Test Subject decide to use one of the reclining chairs, according to previous agreement: If the analgesics would make him dizzy, he would not hesitate to recline. We don't want the Test Subject to pass out and fall over, since the possibility to evacuate the chamber during peak Procedure is scant. Wait! It seems like something is happening now." The heartbeats and the pulse meter faster now. A muffled sound, almost impossible to hear. "The pulse of the Test Subject is increasing, and a visible re-structuring of his bone-structure is occurring. Since X1 was so typically mesomorph before Procedure, and since X2 belonged to an endomorph body type, we haven't been able to observe skeletal re-arrangement to the same extent before. As you will see in the statistic files, Sir, Test Subject X3 belong to an ectomorph body type, and if it is possible to expose men of his shape to The Procedure, its usefulness will increase manifold, of course. You will be amazed when you study the film sequence of this particular experiment. It is truly amazing! What was he when the experiment began? 170 centimetres? Well, 168 centimetres – about 5 feet 6 inches. And while X2 was overweight when Test 2 began, Test Subject X3 followed a normal weight curve, bordering to the underweight. 55 kilogrammes. Oh! Look at that! I didn't thought that that was even possible!" The muffled sound louder now, but still muffled, like by a very thick glass pane of lead glass. "The perspiration of the Test Subject is still increasing. Let us hope, that he will not dehydrate in there. Look at that! I didn't believe that was possible! Sir! The Test Subject is now rapidly increasing in stature, width and weight – actually beyond our former expectations. He clenches his fists. He stretch his arms and legs, as they actually extend more and more. The Procedure is presently working at a level of 30%. We have never before exposed a human being to this level. His weight has increased to 75 kilogrammes, no he is still increasing in weight: 78 kilogrammes – and all of it muscle mass. No trace of subcutaneous fat whatsoever. Look at that! We are creating a superhuman, but that was the idea of the Meta-Marine project, to begin with, wasn't it? Wait! He is growing even taller and broader! I can't believe it? What does the readings say? 179 centimetres and growing. Over 85 kilogrammes now. He is rising from the chair now. Stands up. He reach out his arms before him and flex his biceps. And pecs. His quads and hamstring force him to change his stance into something more comfortable. I can't believe the sight of that abdomen. A wall of muscle. And every muscle in perfect harmony and symmetry: A man built of boulders. Boulders of steel. That bull neck! Can't believe it is the same man anymore. 185 centimetres and 90 kilogrammes. He seem to roar something. I can't hear what. Signs of sexual arousal, but that's hardly surprising, taking his extreme testosterone levels in consideration... And all readings show, that it is perfectly safe. Perfectly safe! No signs of adverse effects. When the time comes for Experiment number 4 we will be able to take it to further levels, but probably better to abort Experiment 3 at this stage, in order to evaluate the effect, how tempting it would be to continue now. 190 centimetres and 110 kilogrammes! He has gained 55 kilogrammes in a matter of minutes. Those shoulders! And his trapezius! Unreal! Have to switch the chamber off..." Sounds of movement. Sounds of grunts and struggle. A metal vessel falling on a stone floor. A glass object breaking. "What are you doing X2? Let me go!" Boots on floors. More grunts. The sound of the power supply intensifying. The muffled moans and roars from inside the chamber louder now. "What are you doing X1? Leave the controls alone! Don't change the settings! The danger... What are you doing? Where are you taking me and Guard number 4? Maximum dose? You are insane! No! Not inside the chamber! NOT INSIDE THE..." The sound of a deep male voice moaning in pleasure. The hissing sound of a safety sluice. The sound of power supply louder now. Crackling power emissions. Five male voices moaning and grunting. The sound of panic in Dr. Dubois' voice. "NO! I'm inside! I can't get out! Why are you doing this? I and Guard number 4 are unprepared... The danger! You don't understand! What are you doing? You can't be..." Dr. Dubois' voice silenced and turning into moans. A wet, strange sound. Yelps of fear. Fear and pleasure. Heavy breathing. The heavy breathing of three men. Power bolts. The yelps of fear of two men. Breathing heavier now. Wet strange sound. Roars of release. "NO! What's happening to me? The Guard too? You are turning us into Meta-Marines like yourselves? But I'm not... Oh!" Hissing gas. Power bolts. Deepening voices: "Yes! THIS is what we were made for! The FULL effect!" And Dr. Dubois returning. Fear in his voice. Fear receding. Leaving space for something else. Confidence. Mindless revelry. "The Formula? Transmittable? From man to man? Inside me now? Can't believe! NO! I'm not supposed to... Oh! The programming! Can't resist... Fuck! No, oh... Sir! I'm inside the Chamber. X1 and X2 forced me and the Guard inside. I must leave you this report before it is too late... I'm affected by... OH FUCK! The scent of man. The Chamber... So full of it... Growing together... Becoming... this... together... Together with my brothers in arms. FUCK! Look at us! LOOK. AT. US. We are redefining what it mean to be a man. BUILT BY STEEL BOULDERS. So incredibly strong now. All of us. Look at you! And you! All of us. Together. Fighters. The Procedure... 100%. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT! The programming... Why resist it? Why. Resist. Something. So. Overwhelmingly. Uh! Uh, yes! Make me one of us! I'M A META-MARINE NOW! AND I WANT MORE! Yes! All of it! To protect and defend!" Power bolts crackling. A weird and sickly sound of growing meat. Hissing gas. Men moaning. Roaring. "Look at us! None of us under 2 metres! None of us under 200 kilogrammes! All this brawn! Beyond human limits! Masculine perfection! Those pecs! These traps! O, fuck, Bro, what's happening? Too good! Increasing more. Can't believe this muscular power. Yeah! Let me feel those biceps. OH FUCK! Yes, taste my shoulders, Bro. TASTE MY SHOULDERS! Yeah, your lats a incredible, Bro. Pure, indiluted, incredible masculine brawn. Must spread the Procedure. Spread the Procedure to all men. Spread the Gift. All become brothers. Brothers in arms. Sharing the Meta-Marine power." The sound of breaking glass. Metal bending. "Look at the size of us, Bro! Beyond human! Metal can't withstand our strength!" Alarms sounding. Gas hissing. Power bolts. The sound of movement. "Yeah! Look at that! Gas spreading in all vents. The radiation leaking into the entire base. Look at our Bros! They're growing too! All of us. Growing. MORE! Yes! The experiment is a success! MORE! GROW ALL OF US! NEED MORE BRAWN!" A signal. The voice message had abruptly ended. A beep. Welcome [Commander]. You have [seven] new voice messages.

This is a story by Speaker from the old Evolution Forum written in 2007, which never got the credits it deserved. Sadly the story is unfinished and there seems to be no way finding the author now. Therefore, I am posting this story on his behalf, hoping he will see, like and continue the story. If the author wishes to take down the story, then I will do that. I also took out the liberty to correct spelling mistakes and revise a passage or two, as well as add a little bit at the end to open up for more possibilities for this story to be continued. Hope you enjoy! Help me find the author to ask for a continuation or permission to continue the story. ______________ "Paradise" by Speaker (Sept, 2007), revised by MuscCanon (2016) Joey woke up, not having the slightest clue whatsoever as to where the hell he was. He was content to simply lay back on this sinfully comfortable, warm bed, and just relax. Joey had no idea how he'd gotten here either, but he really wasn't complaining. He just had no desire at all to move. His bliss, however, was not everlasting. After simply lying in bed for what unkindly felt like about three minutes, he heard a voice above him somewhere. "So, still asleep are ya?" Joey had no desire to answer. Part of his brain wondered if he was drugged, because he normally was not this sleepy, and answered any question he was given. Unfortunately for him, that was not the part of his brain in control, so he just continued to lay there, mute. "Figured..." Joey felt a needle pierce his skin, and when he still made no movement, the suspicious part of his brain knew that there was something wrong. The needle emptied into him, and after about a minute of continued bliss, he stopped being so sleepy. He sat up and looked around. Whoever had spoken to him was gone now, leaving him alone in this cell-like room. There was the incredibly comfortable bed, a door, and lamp. Nothing more. Joey stood up, noticing while he did so that he was completely naked, which seriously embarrassed him, as he knew that there was no chance that there weren't cameras in this room. He put one hand over his privates, and walked to the door, where he was not surprised to find it locked. He sighed, "Wonder what the hell this is about." He muttered to himself as he walked back towards the bed. He sat on it, and given that he really had no choice in the matter, stopped hiding the fact that he was naked, exposing his average dick and balls to the free air. Normally he'd be scared in a situation like this, where he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there, but Joey at least thought things through. Scared or not, he was here anyways, and there didn't seem to be any chance of escape, so why be afraid if you can help it? He hummed music, to distract himself from the fear welling up deep inside of him. The door opened suddenly, and Joey stood up, covering his cock and balls with his hand out of instinct. A man in a white lab coat walked in and smiled at him. Joey instantly relaxed, but he kept a hand over his crotch just to be safe. There was something about this man's friendly, smiling face that put him instantly at ease. It wasn't hard to notice that the doctor absolutely had to work out like a beast whenever he wasn't working wherever they were. His lab coat was huge, but it had to be to hold a man as huge as he was. His upper arms completely filled the upper portion of the sleeve, and even through the coat Joey could see some of the incredible definition in the man's arms. His pecs forced themselves outward from his chest, arrogantly pushing the lab coat out far enough from the front of his body that it almost looked like a table. Joey had no doubt that this man would have trouble seeing the rest of his body if he looked down, simply because his huge pecs blocked the view. Except maybe his cock, which was, although Joey couldn't see it clearly through the material, obviously exceptional. His thighs filled his pants to bursting, and his face topped it off. The guy looked like he couldn't be a minute older than 21 years old. He was a Latino obviously, from the tone of his skin and his black hair and dark eyes, but he was also the sexiest Latino that Joey had ever seen. His white teeth stood out perfectly from his dark brown, perfect skin. His black, curly hair was cut short, and he had an impressive 5 o'clock shadow around his perfect face. The man was absurdly sexy, the kind of man who would put Mr. Olympia to shame, while having the face and dick of the best male model in the world. Joey's dick immediately, and obviously, hardened fully under his hand. The man grinned, and said to him, "There's no need to cover that up. I get that reaction a lot. My name's Miguel, and I bet you're wondering what the hell you're doing here." Joey nodded, and the simple tone of Miguel's reassuring voice brought his hand away from his dick, exposing it's hardness to anyone who cared to look. He simply couldn't take his eyes off this man. Quite a large part of him wanted to put his hand back on his dick and start stroking, but he wasn't prepared to go quite that far... not while Miguel was looking anyways. "Simply put, you are in essence a guinea pig. I know putting it that way sounds cruel, and I assure you it is not. I'm one of the first people who was tested you know, and now here I am, working to continue the testing." Joey finally found the courage to unglue his tongue, "Yeah but what is it you're testing?" "In essence it's a combination of a muscle-enhancement formula the military has been using, and a sort of fountain of youth. Guess how old I am?" Joey guessed, "21?" "Try tripling that. I only look 21 because of the formula, but I'm actually 64." Joey gaped at the man, who didn't look like he could possibly be 64, but if what he'd said was true, then of course it was possible. Duh, he thought to himself, he just said that he was 64 and that the formula made him look younger, so of course he doesn't look like he's 64. All that thinking didn't stop him from wondering how it was possible though. "But if it's a fountain of youth thing, then why am I here? I'm only 18. Are you trying to make me younger?" Joey thought in horror of having to start puberty again if he was going to be shrunk. "Well no. See it actually happens by us injecting a sort of template into a person. That template overrides your genes for age, and muscularity and sort of bootstraps itself in, but it leaves the rest of your genes alone. Of course, everyone doesn't end up the same height and weight, but it's reasonably close, and the rest of your genes determine how you grow when you lift weights, even after you've grown from the formula. That's why we're all muscular and look like we're 21 years old. It's because the template makes us look that way, but the rest of our genes are in place, which is why I'm Latino, Antonio is Italian, Brandon is black, and so on and so forth. You aren't the first person we've tested who is younger than the age that the rest of us are, but the first person came through perfectly and we want to see if it works well on everyone. That's where you come in. Joey stared at the man. He'd understood almost half of what Miguel had said, but he at least comprehended the most important things like if he took the formula then he'd become a 21-year-old muscleman. He really didn't care about the rest of whatever Miguel had said. If all he'd said was 'We're going to make you a muscular man.' Then that would have been enough to hook him! "So, whaddaya think?" Miguel asked, "Do you wanna do this?" "Hell yes!" Miguel led Joey into another room, this one with an ominous looking machine in the centre of it. There was a large glass tube in the heart of the machine, easily big enough to hold two men comfortably. The tube was surrounded by other wires and there were other tubes that entered the glass one in the centre. He assumed, correctly that he was supposed to get into the big tube. Miguel nodded when he gestured at it and Joey got in it. He entered the tube and heard Miguel's voice from a speaker somewhere inside. "Don’t be afraid, but the other tubes are going to attach to you." As soon as he said that, the tubes inside the main chamber attached to his body. One to each leg, each arm, and one to his chest. He looked at them apprehensively, as they were as thick as two fingers in diameter. "Those are for the muscle mass you're going to be gaining. You're going to gain weight in muscle mass, and that mass has to come from somewhere, so we inject it straight into your bloodstream with these. I know they look big, but that's to get the growth over with quickly because I won’t lie to you, it's painful. Knowing that do you still want to proceed?" Joey nodded. He didn't care if it hurt if it gave him a body like Miguel's. "Ok. I'm starting the procedure." Through the tube into his right leg a small amount of a purple fluid entered his leg, which began to burn immediately. It hurt, but Joey gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore it. "That's the template. We have to wait a minute for it to circulate to the rest of your body before we can actually start the growth." It was probably the longest minute of his life. The fire in his leg, spread up into his dick, up his abs, chest, arms and even into his head. It was like being forced to stay in a campfire even as he slowly started burning. "Ok, here we go." He heard Miguel say Blue fluid rushed into his body from the tubes. Joey grunted as the fluid entered him in five places. He felt, rather than saw, his body starting to swell. He really didn't care about the muscle growing along his body at the moment. He suddenly understood what Miguel had said. He really did want this over with quickly. Through the pain though it was impossible not to notice some things, like how his thighs forced each other outwards, forcing him to adopt a wider stance. How his back thickened and widened, forcing his arms out wider. How it was getting difficult to look down over growing pecs. How his body itched as hair grew in. All those were easily ignored however at the pain. He screamed as his bones lengthened, and the muscle fluid just kept pouring in. The growth had only taken another minute, but it had felt longer than that when it abruptly halted. The door of the chamber opened and Joey staggered out, unaccustomed to walking with massive thighs. He looked up, panting and saw Miguel slowly stroking his really thick, uncut, Latin cock and staring at Joey. Miguel walked over and pulled one of Joey's thick arms around his shoulder. "Tired eh? I know that transformation takes a lot out of you." Joey nodded, still staring at Miguel's thick dick. It wasn't hard for Miguel to notice this. "Sorry but the transformation is pretty hot to watch, even if it's not so fun to experience." Joey managed to gasp through his panting, "Are you... gay?" Surprise filled Miguel's face, before he laughed suddenly. Joey looked at Miguel in confusion. "GAY?! Of course we're all gay! That's the one prerequisite for the transformation you know. I can't believe I left that out. You have to be gay or the transformation won't work!" Joey stared at Miguel, who was laughing so hard tears fell out of his eyes, and despite being riddled with residual pain (which was quickly ebbing), felt like the happiest gay guy on Earth. "How many people have had this?" Joey asked, not panting as much anymore. "About 100 now. We try to keep it relatively quiet, but it's hard to do so with a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place." "In one place? So we don't leave here?" Miguel smiled at Joey. "You can anytime you want." It took Joey only a moment to understand. "Yeah I wouldn't want to leave either. Not with 'a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place.'" Miguel slapped his hand on Joey's newly broad back. "Now you're getting it. Look you're probably exhausted. I was when I transformed. Just let me take you to a room and you can rest up a bit before you meet the rest of the guys." Joey nodded. He let Miguel practically carry him to a much nicer room than the one he'd previously been in, lay him down on a bed, and he was sleeping the moment that his head touched the pillow. ----- Joey woke up, energized. He noticed that he was sleeping naked on top of the sheets but didn’t care at all. He sat up and stood up, marvelling at how abnormally easy it was. Normally standing up really wasn't much of an exertion, but people usually do get tired of it after a few hours. Joey instinctively knew that he wouldn't. He jogged into a private bathroom, noting that the room he was in looked more like a hotel suite than anything, complete with a balcony overlooking some ocean from atop a cliff, although he still didn't know where he was. Joey stared at his new self in the mirror. He was huge, easily 6'1" tall and he couldn’t be a pound less than 300, which he quickly confirmed on the scale in the bathroom. His chest was absurdly huge, like two massive dinner plates had been grafted onto his torso, and adorned with a half-dollar sized nipple. The crevice between his pecs looked deep enough to lose things in, although he knew that was an exaggeration. His pecs were so smooth, there was no hair to be seen. This gaze led him down over his 8-pack and then to his cock, which hung at least half-way down his tree-trunk thighs. He'd noticed that it was hard to walk, and gazing at his thighs gave him a shrewd idea why. His calves looked as though someone had shoved a football under them. He looked up again, this time at his arms which hung out of bowling ball sized shoulders. His guns had to be at least 24 inches around, if not bigger. He went into a double-bicep pose and stared at the proud peak which stood up from his arms. Veins covered his biceps and his forearms, which were absurdly thick as well, even at the wrist. Last, but not least, he stared at his face. His brown eyes somehow had more of a lustre, a shine than previously. His face was covered with brown shadow, and he noticed that he really needed a haircut. Joey grinned at the man, and the man in the mirror grinned back at him. He swaggered back into the main room, even though there was a separate room with a TV, a sofa bed and a computer. Joey doubted that he'd use the TV and computer but he had to marvel at the computer. Before his transformation, he would have been astounded at the quality of it, but now he really had no desire to use it. He looked around but found nothing that even looked like a dresser with clothes in it, so he shrugged and walked to the door. There was a note pinned there. ____ Hey! Welcome to the community! I'm Antonio and since our rooms are across the hall from each other, they asked me to give you a bit of an explanation, but I really didn't want to wake you up. The rooms are private and are set up to allow access when it scans your hand. We've already put in your fingerprints so if you want to get into your room, just put your hand on the panel next to the door and it'll open up. If you wanna know more, just come across the hall. I'll be in my room until 6 tonight. There's a clock next to the bed if you dont know the time. Antonio ____ Joey read the note, and looked at the clock. It was only 3 in the afternoon so he walked out of his room, into a carpeted hall which looked like nothing more than a hotel hallway, with rooms stretching along it. He walked across the hall and knocked. He heard feet moving and the door opened. Antonio was the epitome of an Italian hunk. Joey had just undergone his transformation and therefore hadn't had an opportunity to work out and grow any more. Judging by Antonio, he had only recently arrived too, but to Joey he looked like nothing less than perfection. Joey had a fair amount of brown body hair, but Antonio's pelt put his to shame. Antonio's chest was covered in about twice the black hair as Joey's was in brown, and it only continued down Antonio's abs, surrounded an impressive cock, and covered his legs as well. Antonio's short hair was curly and he had, like every man here apparently, an impressive black 5 o'clock shadow around his mouth. His muscles were about the same size as Joey's, but his body practically screamed 'HUNK' to Joey. Joey stared, open mouthed at Antonio and Joey could feel his dick harden as he stared. Antonio only grinned. "Hey man I was wondering when you'd wake up." Like Miguel, despite Antonio's obviously Italian heritage, he had no discernible Italian accent. "Joe isn't it? Come on in!" "It's Joey." Joey muttered and followed the Italian stallion into his room. It was physically the same as Joey's room, but there were the unmistakable scents of man, sweat and a fair amount of cum in the room that only aroused Joey further. "Ah ok Joey. I'm Antonio, and it looks like we're the next best thing to roommates! I suppose you want to ask a few questions?" Joey shook himself, nodded, and asked "Are there any clothes?" "Why would you want them? We're in a tropical paradise, the room temperatures are permanently set to 80 so they're never cold, and all you'd be doing is covering up that glorious bod." Joey couldn't argue his logic. "Where are we?" "We are on a nice small island in the south pacific. It's owned by Dave, who had the original idea for this growth. He's actually only 30 but he's probably the richest person in the world. Inheritance you know. 'Course he doesn't look like he's 30 since he got transformed too. You'll meet him later. He was the first guy to be transformed and is the biggest of us because of it, although Miguel, the doc, is almost as big. Nobody comes here unless they're delivering food or bringing another person here to be transformed, and then they only see the front, where they see a massive resort for 'The rich and famous,' which explains why they've never met anyone who's been in here. The private beach is on the back side, which is in a little cove and can’t be seen from the outside. We've got everything here. An AWESOME weight room, all the food you could possibly eat, none of it junk food either so you can grow more. You name it, we've got it." Joey laughed. "Well that answers pretty much all my questions, but I’ve got another one. How old are you really?" Antonio smiled, "I'm 19. I was the first guy they tested the formula on who wasn't over 21, and you're the second." Joey grinned at Antonio. It didn't seem possible that a 19-year-old could have that kind of body, but then, he was living proof that it was indeed possible himself. Joey couldn't resist anymore. He reached forward and kissed Antonio on the mouth passionately. He loved the feeling of Antonio's rough facial hair against his own, which told him beyond a doubt that he was kissing a man, and that he loved every second of it. They broke off the kiss after about a minute and Joey muttered, "God I've wanted to do that since I saw you. You're so hot." Antonio grinned and muttered, "So are you." Then Antonio beckoned Joey to follow him. "I want you to meet someone." Joey walked into Antonio's bedroom and saw in bed, what had to be the most massive man here. The man had his huge arms behind his head, showing off what had to be 30" guns, and Joey couldn't even imagine the colossal chest the man had. The man's body was entirely hairless, save his eyebrows and a crew cut, but it only showed off his size even more. This man had the most freakishly huge legs you can imagine and they were covered with veins. The man spoke, "So you're Joey? I'm Dave, the owner of this place and the biggest fucker you'll ever meet." Joey was loving his 'tough guy' attitude. Joey walked up to the Dave's naked body, knelt and started sucking on Dave's massive cock. Or at least he tried. Joey guessed his to be about 14" hard, but Dave's had to be at least 18" and it wasn’t fully hard yet. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to have that inside of him. It was hard enough to get it in his mouth. Whilst sucking this huge cock he couldn’t stop feeling all over Dave’s huge legs and calves. Just a moment later, he felt a thick cock enter his ass. He didn't need to look to realize that Antonio had taken advantage of Joey's ass in the air and hadn't needed any more invitation than that. He released Dave's cock for a moment to moan with pleasure as he felt that 14" cock pounding away at his bubble butt, before he went back to sucking on Dave's cock with gusto and looked up at Dave’s face. His impression showed pure bliss. He must have been really enjoying Joey’s sucking. At the same time Dave was playing with his big nipples, which were hard and erect. It didn't take long before Dave's cock started throbbing hard and spewing a massive load down Joey's throat. Joey didn't know if he could swallow it all but he tried anyways. Suddenly his own cock began shooting its load all over the floor. He tensed from the pleasure, and that was enough to squeeze Antonio's dick with his ass cheeks and drive Antonio into climax as well. Joey was getting cum into him from his ass and his mouth and was shooting his own load as well. All at the same time. He was in the ultimate state of ecstasy. Nothing could ever match this. Nothing. He slowly felt himself getting fuller and fuller and started touching his muscle belly in shock. His ones flat 8 pack muscled abs were now replaced with a bloated but rock hard roid gut which kept growing bigger and bigger by the second. After five minutes of this pure, sweet sex Joey and Antonio stopped shooting. Dave, of course, continued for another minute or so before he too was sated. Joey grunted as he felt Antonio slide his thick cock out of his own ass. Joey released Dave's cock and stood up. The floor was covered with his cum. He'd shot at least a gallon, maybe two, and it was oozing along the floor. Dave looked at Joey’s new roid gut and laughed “don’t worry boy. All that cum will transform into muscles really soon. It’s the fuel that makes us grow. And by the looks of it, you have a lot of growing to do.” Just the thought of it made Joey hard again and leaking pre all over the floor. Dave was watching him, absentmindedly stroking his cock, which was hard yet again. "If you haven't noticed Joey, we can have sex pretty much 24-7, but most of us do other things as well. I, for example, am going to go down to the weight room and shame all of my other guests. Antonio, after sex, usually likes to go surfing at the beach, but of course, what you do is up to you. This is a pleasure island. You can do anything you want here as long as it doesn't harm or steal from one of the other guests. Of course, I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought you would do anything like that, but just to be sure, I'm laying down the rules. The formula is reversible and if you piss enough people off, we can reverse it, wipe your memory of this island and send you back to the mainland. I'd prefer not to do that, as you're one of the better cocksuckers I've ever encountered, and you'll look good with another 100lbs of muscle on you. So be good." He flashed a grin, and walked sideways out of the room. His yet again hard nipples hit the side of the door, which obviously gave Dave shudders and pleasure, as his dick leaked more pre on the floor. Antonio looked at Joey and smiled. "He's right you know. I like surfing after sex, but I guess I could be persuaded into a little more fun." Joey smiled back. He knew he could have Antonio anytime he wanted. But right now he couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. “Thanks for the offer, but I would really love to lift some weights. Getting my fully blown out roid gut down to a more reasonable size. Do you want to join?” Antonio was a little bit disappointed but changed his mood in a second. “Follow me, I’ll show you the way”. As both muscle hunks left the room and walked down the hallway, Antonio kept on pointing out who lived where and all the opportunities they had. Once they turned the corner, Antonio stopped in front of a particular door and obviously got nervous. Joey also noticed that Antonio’s dick got harder by the minute. Joey looked up at the door sign and read Miguel. “Follow this way, then turn left and take the elevator down to the first floor. You will find the gym right there. Don’t be shocked but what you will find there. I will follow you right after. Just need to finish some business first.” Antonio absentmindedly started stroking his cock. “Ok, see you around. Have fun.” Joey couldn’t stop smiling thinking about what Antonio will do with Miguel. Were they lovers? Once he reached the elevator and got in, he clicked the button with a big G.Y.M. sign to it. The elevator closed and slowly started going down. His head was full of ideas what he will find at the gym. But most of all he was looking forward to see Dave work out. Maybe he will be able to work out with him. What will Dave look like pumped? Is Dave still growing? How big will Joey grow? The door opened and what Joey saw made his dick rock hard in an instant. TO BE CONTINUED....

A (now late) birthday gift for Abyss123. What happens when on one birthday, a little guy is gifted with anyone he looks at swelling into a huge man. (Features renders done by Hugeadmr) **************************** “Hold the door!” A voice called out before a slim man dashed into the train cart, just making it in as the doors closed behind him with an almost silent hiss right before the train shifted and began its journey. Making his way through the rather sparse compartment, careful not to bump into the other passengers, Jordan praised whatever god there was as he spotted an empty seat before plonking himself upon it, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “... Hate... huff... That alarm... clock...” The man panted out as he opened the front of his jacket slightly, the exertion of running so much having him feeling uncomfortably warm despite the cold weather today. Jordan relaxed in his seat, pulling out his phone to pass the time till he got to work, eyes widening slightly when he saw a message notification on screen despite the early hour. Praying it wasn’t work telling him he’s to go to a different location, Jordan opened the message, pleasantly surprised to see it was a birthday message from a friend. “Huh, forgot I told him about it.” He said to himself as he read the message. ‘Happy Birthday little guy, Hope you’ll have a good day. For your gift I want you to type out a wish and it’ll come true. All the Best.’ The message read, followed by some heart emoticons and a template for the ‘wish’ starting off with ‘For my birthday, I wish:_____’ “Really?” Jordan couldn’t help but scoff at his friend’s idea of a joke. But figuring he had nothing to lose and it could be a fun way to pass the time. “Could be fun.” He whispered to himself, copying the template before typing out his wish, deciding to have some fun as well as he sent the message, rereading it. ‘For my birthday, I wish: to be surrounded by big beasts.’ Smiling as he knew his friend would get a good laugh, and feeling significantly more relaxed than he was before, Jordan went to slip the phone back into his pocket before it vibrated again. “That was quick.” The slim man smiled, figuring his friend had added a steamy comment or maybe shared some risqué art of large guys. Instead Jordan was greeted with a rather cryptic message. ‘Then for today, anyone you look at shall become a massive bear of a man, be it with fat or muscle. Enjoy.’ “Huh? What joke is this?” Jordan raised an eyebrow at the weird message he was sent before groaning as his eyes suddenly ached, rubbing them before blinking rapidly to try and ease what happened. “Hey man, you okay?” Jordan turned to the voice belonging to the clean shaven man seated next to him, taking in the rather athletic build beneath the tracksuit he wore. “Y-yeah, just a headache is all.” He said, blinking a bit as he looked over at his seat neighbour, his mind confused as with each blink, the man seemed to grow... bigger. Whilst Jordan saw the changes, watching the tracksuit stretch and get tighter, muscles steadily bulging bigger before his very eyes, no one else seemed to notice the clearly growing man seated down, least of all the man himself. “So, like what you see?” The now deeper voice shook the slim man from his thoughts, lifting his gaze off the bulging pecs that strained the front of the tracksuit as if trying to force the zipper open, moving towards the handsome face that smirked at him. Jordan blushed at being caught staring at the muscular man, seeing his neck thicken out more as he seemed to inch taller. Jordan cranes his head back to try and keep his eyes on the man’s face, watching as the light 5 o’clock shadow began to darken, steadily spreading into a beard that framed his square jawline. When Jordan tried to apologize for the obvious gawking, he could only barely utter out a stutter filled mess, before being silenced when the seeming ever growing man let out a deep chuckle, earning some side glances from other passengers by its volume before they returned to their own business. “No need to panic little guy. I like it when guys look at me, makes me feel bigger. By the way, Name’s Carl.” He introduced, flexing his pecs that caused the zipper to drop down, exposing some of the hairy chest. Carl brought up his large paw of a hand in greeting, the massive hand was reaching the size of an baseball mitt as his thickening arm saw the sleeves to stretch and pull back, exposing more of the hair covered forearm. Jordan said his own name as they shook hands, the smaller man’s being completely eclipsed by Carl’s. Before Jordan could speak again, mainly about how the man was growing bigger before his very eyes, a harsh ripping sound erupted in the cart, all eyes turning to the source just below the enormous man that was Carl. Jordan looked down, trying not to focus on the prominent bulge between the thickening thighs that Carl had as he saw the training shoes he wore now ripped apart, exposing his large feet that were stretching out the sock he wore. “Man that feels good. Though I like those shoes they were getting to tight for me.” Carl said with a relaxed sigh as he sat back as much as the cramped seat would allow, wiggling his now free toes as they forced out from the remains of the now destroyed shoe-wear. Jordan watched the man swell bigger with each breath he took, trying to keep a conversation with him, only to stop when his thick biceps and forearms to rip through the sleeves off his tracksuit, his quads shredding through his pants making them tight shorts against his thick muscular thighs. When Carl’s broad shoulders and enormous pecs finally forced the the rest of the ruined tracksuit to rip off, giving Jordan a good view of the hair covered chest and sweat soaked tank top, the tannoy system sounded, announcing the arriving station. “Oh, that’s my stop.” Jordan said, standing up before glancing at Carl once more, surprised to see he was eye-level with the seated man who only chuckled deeply. “Alright little guy, nice to meet you. Hope I’ll run into you again.” He said, his deep baritone of a voice practically shaking the train cart as they pulled into the station, the gargantuan man shifting in his cramped seat as passengers had to step over his long thick legs, Jordan gave the enormous bodybuilder one last look before heading off, leaving him in the train as he noticed how people he so much as glanced at seemed to swell out a bit more with size, clothing getting tighter as no one was suddenly surprised to be taller or heavier. ‘Damn it, can’t have the place filled with big guys.’ Jordan said, trying to stay rational as the temptation to let his birthday ‘gift’ go wild had to be contained. Glancing back at the now leaving train, the slim man saw Carl, now having to crouch as he stood, swell larger that his broad shoulders pressed into the roof of the cart, thick, hairy muscles pressing against his fellow passengers, all growing larger before the train disappeared out of eye shot. Taking a deep breath, Jordan kept his eyes on the ground as he slipped into the morning rush. Seeing the people next to him swell with his eyes down, the slim man tried to figure out what do as they approached the stairs, being pressed against the swelling men as their clothing being to rip and pop. Getting closer to the stairs, Jordan glanced up, watching a few men have sudden growths that saw their suits rip open to expose their enlarged forms, before spotting a close by open elevator that none of the other other commuters seemed to be heading for. Deciding to risk it over filling the entire underground train system with huge men, Jordan shouted apologies as he made his way through the crowd, earning some choice curse words and a cacophony of shredding clothing before making it into the deserted lift compartment, quickly slamming the ground floor button as he slumped against the far wall of the elevator. As the door began to close, a voice suddenly called out. Raising his head up, Jordan watched as a slim woman slipped inside, panting as she pressed the same button to go up, leaving the two in silence as the elevator began it’s arguable slow ascend. As Jordan saw the woman, noticing his slim build and long hair, he figured his ‘gift’ wouldn’t affect her at all… only to blink and see the ‘woman’ now with more masculine traits as he leaned back against a wall. ‘Well, Drew was efficient with his gift.’ Jordan sighed, glancing away as the swelling man scratched his chest in the tight sitting suit he was wearing. Looking away, Jordan was mentally cursed himself as he realised the walls in the elevator were covered in mirrors, ever angle turning him back to the steadily growing man, his long hair receding back as he grew bigger, thickening fingers tapping on a phone as he remained unaware of his sudden gender and size shift. After a few seconds of taking in the situation, and earning a deep relaxed sigh from the swelling man as his feet burst through the tight work shoes, Jordan just shrugged and thought, ‘fuck it, might as well enjoy this.’ As he focused all his attention on the growing man, seeing his bearded face inch higher in their confined space as his shoulders grew broader, the back of his suit straining against his thickening back and bulging ass cheeks threatening to burst through the seat of his pants. Looking at one of the reflections, he watched as the front of his suit strained against the swelling pecs and round gut that were forcing the buttons apart, each popping off as he took breaths, sweat dripping down as he swelled bigger and bigger with his pants shredding apart to reveal the tight speedo he was wearing, eventually having to start to crouch down as his head started to reach the ceiling. Eventually all to soon, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Finally, getting cramped in here.” The swollen behemoth of a man said with a room shaking baritone, grunting as he bent over to fit through the tiny doorway, leaving behind the shredded clothing as he gave Jordan a good view of the swelling, speedo stretching ass. As he stumbled out, breathing in the musky odor the bear left behind, Jordan shrugged and headed for work, not minding changing the people as he walked, figuring his day at work will be plenty fun now. “Heh, sorry little fella. Didn’t see you there.” Jordan quickly waved off the immense man’s worry as he ducked beneath the imposing behemoth’s frame. Once a well built office worker stopping for some supplies, after a couple minutes of Jordan staring at his back, he had now swelled to colossal proportions. His bald head pressing against the ceiling of the store along his impossibly thick neck and broad shoulders, despite the colossus crouching. Looking up, Jordan saw his thick front, the 5 o’clock shadow that was stubble now a thick beard that trailed down and mixed with the carpet of chest hair that spread over the billboard sized pecs. His thick stomach more like a turtle shell with it bulging outwards with the outline of his abs being highlighted by the dense treasure trail. Glancing down to eye level, between the huge man’s thick legs swollen as they were bend to keep from breaking through the ceiling, Jordan stared at the impressive cock that strained the skin tight jockstrap that gargantuan beast was clad in. Taking one last look before the tell tale sound of the ceiling cracking from the growing man pushing against it, Jordan looked down before heading back to the storage room, feeling the entire store shake with the behemoth’s powerful footfalls as he left the store. Deciding to risk a glance when he heard the behemoth grunt loudly, Jordan watched him trying to squeeze his gigantic form out the double doors, his broad shoulders and thick arms halfway out before the metal began to bend as he grew against. After some struggling and more growth, to which seemed to be enjoy if the booming moans were anything, the gigantic beast managed to get out, the door almost broken off. “Sorry about the mess.” The huge man said in a deep voice, glancing back to the tiny store before standing tall and adjust his front in the now much too tiny jockstrap. His bulging ass towering out of sight of the ceiling to floor windows before the beast began to stomp off, Jordan deciding to look away now rather than make the leaving giant into a skyscraper sized beast… at least, for now. Deciding to get back to work, Jordan turned back to the store room, sparing a glance to one of the posters on the wall depicting a slender woman advertising some ‘diet water’. With a blink, the slim man couldn’t help but smile at the now massive bodybuilder of a man, flexing his thick arms over head with his back spread out across the landscape, the ad now for the new ‘Mega Bulk Beer’. Jordan had to relish this gift before heading back into the storeroom to continue the work he had to do, thankful he just had about two more hours left till his break and he didn’t have to make excuses to go to the front whenever they had a customer. Before Jordan could settle back into the store room, contemplating putting on an old tv to watch the news and make the news anchors swell out of the studio, he heard the familiar sound of his supervisor call him to his office. Entering the closed room, Jordan struggled to push down his smile as he looked at his supervisor. The once short but well built man, a marathon runner, now took up a couch for an office chair as his bulbous body swelled behind the desk, belly and moobs stretching out the sail sized shirt with his gut pressing the desk further away. On the sides, Jordan caught sight of the silo thick thighs pushing against the tight cloth, spreading out with his huge feet swelling bigger than any shoe could contain. “You know why I called you shrimp?” The huge man mumbled out through a stuffed mouth, shifting his immense body in the creaking couch, a donut in each hand. Earning a shake of Jordan’s head, the swelling man groaned, stuffing more food into his mouth and surging in size more, buttons popping off the straining shirt like bullets, showing more hair covered flesh. “The head office need someone to come in for a meeting and since they haven’t updated the place for big guys like me, I need you to go in and sit for the meeting instead of me.” The blubbery boss said, punctuating his sentence with a room shaking belch, causing his fat loaded body to wobble about before settling after a few seconds. Although more buttons rapidly popped off with the movement, revealing more of the two hills that were his heavily packed moobs. Jordan nodded at the order, watching his growing boss grumble over the latest shirt malfunction, before leaving the room, one last glance at the mountain of fat that was his boss, feeling the ground shake when the couch finally gave up holding the colossus of fat. Smiling as he stepped towards the employee locker room, Jordan smiled when he thought of all the more beasts he could make at the office… and the many on his way there too. “... And that concludes the stock market. I hope you’ve already put money in Jacob’s clothing stocks since they’ve had a good quarter in sales, especially in their jockstraps and undergarments.” The hulking bear explained to the camera, flexing his huge bulging muscles proudly with one hand reaching to snap the strap of his over stretched jockstrap he was wearing. The camera shifted back over to the main anchormen Daryl and Karl, formerly Darla and Karen. Now two massive hulks that crouched behind the tiny desk that only provided slight cover for their massive speedo clad fronts. The two caught mid flex before smiling at the camera, barely suppressing a moan as they surged with size, bumping the desk the towered over. “Thank you… Alex.” Daryl panted out as he looked down at the camera, his pecs heaving with each breath he took, swelling larger as he tried to remain composed on air. “With that we’ll take a break for weather before coming back to talk about recent property damage due to reckless individuals and how the city plans to tackle these issues.” “Next stop, Main Street Square.” “Ah, that’s my stop.” Jordan said to himself, unplugging his headphones and turning off the news livestream on his phone before shoving both back into his pocket. The slim man glanced up from his seat on two massive hulks’ legs, reaching up towards the bell before keeping his eyes down as the bus slowed to a crawl. Getting up, Jordan waved to the two men he had sat beside and then a top of, the hulking men chuckling as they swelled again, heads denting the bus roof as they surged with more height and muscle mass. With a sigh Jordan hopped out of the musk filled bus, seeing it off before he headed down the sidewalk, men and women beside him growing bigger. It wasn’t long before the scrawny man made it to the office building, glancing up before walking into a spacious lobby. With glances to the now plus sized employees, stepping towards the reception, Jordan greeted the fit man behind the desk, smirking when his swimmers build began to swell with muscle and fat. “Hi there, I’m here for a meeting on behalf of my regional store supervisor.” Jordan said, explaining to the receptionist where the store was. Waiting for confirmation, the slim man kept his eyes on the growing man, his suit stretching with the swelling man adjusting his seating. Jordan watched the man switch to using pencils to type as his fingers grew too thick, his slim stomach bulging out into a solid gut as he broadened out more. Eventually the big man swelled taller than Jordan despite staying seated on two chairs, one for each cheek. His suit straining audibly against his burly hulking form, his deep baritone voice calling down to the tiny man. “It’s confirmed, do you mind waiting in a seat?” He asked, adjusting his almost spectacle sized glasses on his nose with his slim face thickening out as a pale beard began to spread on his chin and cheeks. “Not at all, thank you… Jon.” Jordan said, getting a bashful smile when the huge man suppressed a moan when his growth saw to his suit buttons popping off, exposing his thick chest. Turning towards his seat and passing some of the growing men, Jordan thought of all the size he could share before the day was over. Glancing to his phone to see the time was only 2 o’clock, Jordan saw his wallpaper with his now hulk sized dads lifting him on the boulder sized bicep. It was then he decided to use his time to reward his friend Drew for the gift. Sitting down on a chair that a growing superchub got off before it broke under his weight, Jordan glanced at the man’s ripping purple shirt and tearing trousers before turning back to his phone. “Hope he’s not in work.” Jordan chuckled to himself, opening the gallery to find Drew’s photo, realising he should share this gift with all his online friends.

Here's a one-off that came to me when I was lying in bed before I fell asleep. Yeah...this would totally be me!!! Hope you enjoy as much as I did that night and while writing it!! How Do You Spell Masculinity?? Ian sprinkled the salt into an incomplete circle, stepped inside, and the closed it with the rest of the salt he had. Before him was a medium sized alter that he had built just as the book had described, and next to that were the items for the ceremony. Lighting first the five red candles, then the three black, and finally the white, (all easily purchased on Amazon Prime) he nervously waited for the time to be exactly two in the morning. This had all begun six days ago when he was on an eBook downloading site looking for the latest Stephen King novel. Glancing over the many different titles as he scrolled through the list, he came across a listing for “100 Books of Witchcraft and Sorcery.“ Thinking that this might be something interesting to look through, and always fascinated with the occult, he downloaded the zipped file. Unzipping and then Opening the downloaded folder, he found titles such as the Necronomicon, The Grimoire for the Apprentice Wizard, Libellus Migicus, and The Fifth Book of the Black Order. One book peaked his interest significantly: Physical Magic and Spell-Casting. Most of the spells in this “Grimoire” were focused on turning straight hair to curley or vice-versa, acquiring different coloured eyes, or helping the caster build larger muscles. Being fairly short with an average body, this spell caught his attention, but it was the one after it that peaked his interest. Total Body Modification in Regard to Masculinity or Femininity allowed the spell caster to summon a ‘helpful demon’ ( there were such things???) and request they give the ideal masculine/feminine body that they desired. Reading over the spell, it all seemed quite easy: Must be done on the first of the month. A circle and a pentagram must be drawn in salt The caster must be within the circle and never leave till the spell was complete Must be done at 2 am Must possess a silver knife and silver spoon Must have three specific coloured candles Must have three items that the caster perceived as masculine/feminine to be burnt in a copper pot Four tablespoons of raw wildflower honey. One persimmon for the demon to feast on. (Really??). If the demon finds you worthy to grant your request, he will feast on it to gather the energy to make your masculine/feminine body a reality. Once the items were ash and spread over the heart and chest of the caster, they needed to just speak out loud their desires. From this, the demon would choose to grant or deny the request. Being a person with a lot of interests and nothing to loose, and since it was January 25th, he thought, why not, and decided to do it. From Amazon, Ian was able to purchase the silver knife (who knew??!!), the copper pot, and the candles, and from the corner shop he was able to procure three large boxes of salt. The items that symbolized masculinity were a little harder. The first thing he cane up with was the few chest hairs that he had growing in the center of his chest. Ian was not a very hairy person, and he always associated facial and body hair with masculinity. So, with a dry razor he cut the fifteen chest hairs from his body and placed them in an envelope. A huge penis was definitely a symbol of masculinity, but how could you burn one? At work the next day at his desk, he decided the best way was to make a paper mache one. That night he got a long balloon, mixed flour and water to make a paste, put strips of newspaper in the mixture, and proceeded to cover the 15” balloon with it. To create the head, he just piled more and more paper until the balloon had a massive mushroom cap. The next night he popped the balloon, and painted the hardened cast to look as close to a penis as he could; veins and all. The final item alluded him. Ian wanted it to be a jock strap, but he couldn’t just buy one. That wouldn’t be masculine enough for him. It needed to have been owned and worn by someone who was the epitome of masculinity. Searching online, Ian found a website where he could “purchase” a man’s company for an hour or for a night. Looking through the pictures, he found a rugged muscular hunk who screamed masculinity to Ian. Emailing the escort, Ian asked how much it would cost to have him wear a jockstrap all day, work out in it, and then give it to him. That’s all. The escort respond back quickly asking for £350. Knowing this was the only way of getting what he wanted, Ian agreed to transfer half the money that day and then the rest on pick up. He agreed to meet the escort on the 31st at 3pm at a Starbucks on St. Martin’s Lane. Mario, who originated from Italy, actually ended up being a really nice guy. Ian bought latte’s for both of them and they had a 15 minute chat about Mario’s career goals, the law school he was attending, and whether or not he would return to Italy when he finished. When the drinks were finished, Mario stood up to leave, and handed over the jockstrap in a paper bag. No questions were asked, and he acted as if this was a totally natural request. Ian transferred the second half of the money to Mario, and they parted ways, each with what they wanted. Ian waited until he got home to open the bag, and right away from the musky smell he could tell the stud had definitely worn it all day and while he worked out. There were even some stray pubic hair in the red jock for added measure. The sitting room was the largest room in the house, so Ian proceeded to move all of the furniture to the sides of the room. Taking a pencil, he carefully sketched out a pentagram and circle on the floor, and the proceeded to follow the lines with the salt, leaving an entrance open for him to come and go with. He then proceeded to fashion an altar, as requested in the book, and placed that in the middle of the circle. As the time neared 12:30 am, Ian took a bath in rosewater as the book recommended. At around 1:45 am, he entered the circle with the necessary items, and closed it with salt behind him. Placing the persimmon on the right half of the altar for the demon, Ian composed himself and began the ceremony. Lighting the candles from left to right, he began to meditate on what the desired outcome would be from that night… what the word masculinity meant to him Several times his average penis started to get hard thinking of men with huge muscles hairy muscle and massive cocks, but he calmed himself down and continued to meditate. Finally, the alarm sounded. It was 2am. A little nervous, Ian read aloud the spell: - Oh god’s of darkness and Lucifer lord of the underworld, please grant me my wish. Masculinity is the greatest power in this universe, and I wish to accept it as my own. Receive these items as my sacrifice. Chest hair from my own body, that only grows from surges of testosterone. Ian took the chest hair and placed them in the copper bowl. ⁃ A large penis that only one of true masculinity would possess. The large phallus was next placed in the pot. ⁃ And finally, a jock strap owned by the most masculine of men, and worn while working out to improve his masculine body. Ian took the jock strap, longing to smell it, and placed it in the pot. ⁃ In flames I send you these symbols of my desire and my need. Taking a wooden match, Ian lit the paper mache penis. He watched this quickly burn, igniting both the jockstrap and the chest hair. Within ten minutes, they were all a mixture of ash. Taking the silver spoon, Ian scooped up the honey and dropped it into the pot. Mixing it and the ash together with the silver knife, he then proceeded to spread the thick solution on his chest, specifically over his heart. As he rubbed it in he said: - I wish to be the most powerful of all men. Please grant me my wish. Make me masculine. Make me as masculine a man as they come. I beg of you to grant me my desire and bestow me your blessings. What blessings you can bestow on me is as I require. Here Ian has to speak aloud what he wanted the demon to bestow on him. - I want to be muscular. I want a great body, to be tall, and have chest hair. Having seen many movies where a wish went wrong when no detail was given, Ian thought it best to explain himself. - Yeah. I wish to have a muscular body... maybe like a pro bodybuilder, be tall, around 6’4, and have thick hair on my face and chest. Realizing he had forgotten something important: - Oh... um... and a big cock. I’d love a huge cock, a really hairy body, and bulging muscles that every guy would be envious of. Just talking about it was starting to get him horny and hard. - Not just a big cock. A huge cock. Really long and thick. And I’ve always wanted to be tall. Have everyone look up at me when I enter the room. They have to look up because they have no choice. And really muscular, where it’s difficult to buy clothes for my body. Oh yeah... and so hairy that when I shave, it just grows back an hour later. It’s almost a waste of time to even bother shaving. Ian was so horny now just talking about his dream body that he started to stroke himself. - A body so huge with muscles that honestly you can’t even wear clothes I’m just so massive. Hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of thick pulsating muscles. I’m so tall that I have to bend to get through every door, and my cock!! Fuck!! My cock is massive... like 15” long and thick as my wrist, and my balls!! Two grapefruit’s!!! I’m such a fuckin Alpha stud that I can fuck anyone I want... and I do. I’m always constantly leaking pre cum and horny... and fuck I’m hairy!!! Some might think it’s too much... but I don’t care! Ian took some of the ashes mixed with honey and used it as lube to stroke himself even more. Caught up so much in body lust he spoke with such longing: - There I am... standing so tall... like several stories tall... and I’m thousands of pounds of muscle. My whole body is coated in thick dark hair, but nothing can cover how massive my muscles are. I’m a freak, but I love it. I get off on it!! My balls are so enormous... everyone wonders how they can be so big!! My voice is so deep, my beard so full, and my cock is so thick and long I could fuck a building with it!!! Just at the point if cunning, Ian cried out... - Do whatever you want, I just demand you make me into a fucking muscle monster!! My muscles are so huge it’s impossible to measure them but I know I weigh several hundred tons... and that may be a low estimate!!! My cock... fuck it’s so huge it’s too big to even fuck a blue whale with... and the head...it flares out so huge and so wide it’s bigger then my own head!!! And my balls... my balls are as big as cars... I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos, pierced, and exude a smell that turns everyone on. People come from countries away to just worship me and jerk off at my feet. My voice... it’s so deep it’s just a rumble... like thunder!! I have the testosterone of 29,000 warriors, 150,0000 cave men... yeah... I’m so masculine I’ve fuckin de evolved!! The world around me is so small and my voice so deep I pretty much just grunt. My instincts are to just fuck and grow... The whole world worships me yet is terrified of me because I’m a fuckin muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscle, my cock defies description, so long... so thick... so veiny... thousands of highways of veins just to fill it... so freakish it would be disgusting if it wasn’t so hot... it’s constantly dripping gallons of precum, and I have to cum every ten minutes because my balls are constantly full!! I’m a lumbering mass of caveman testosterone, so fuckin hairy... fuck... so hairy I must be part gorilla... and damn... I’m so tall... so tall that my shadow covers all of London!! I have to be 300 feet... no 500 feet if I’m an inch and I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! Ian came repeatedly all over the alter, all over the pentagram, and all over the candles putting several of them out. It was one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had, and he felt totally spent when it was over. Walking through the circle of salt to get some paper towels to clean up, Ian just laughed at all he had done. He was covered with cum, honey, and it would take days to simply vacuum up all of the salt. All of that mess had been worth it for such an incredible orgasm. It had been days since he had ejaculated, and obviously, he needed to after that massive load. Gathering the roll of paper towels from the kitchen and a trash bag, Ian began clearing the mess up. After cleaning the honey and cum from his chest, he then proceeded to clean up his sitting room. He put all of the candles, the copper pot, and the chalice that held the honey into the rubbish bag since none of it was worth keeping. Once that was deposited next to the bins in the kitchen, he vacuumed up all of the salt, which was actually easier then he thought it was going to be. He tossed all of the salt into the rubbish and moved the sofa back into position. No one ever would know that a demonic ritual had ever taken place there. He threw himself down into the couch in exhaustion, the furniture creaking under his weight, and closed his eyes. Damn that was fun... even if it had cost several hundred of pounds. If anything, it would be a funny story to write about on his blog. Suddenly famished, he flung himself off the sofa with the decision to grab some crisps from the kitchen. He was on his way out of the sitting room when he slammed his head on the door jam. Stopping to take stock of what had happened... he suddenly realized that he had actually hit his head on the door jam!!! Ian’s heart started beating faster as he comprehended that indeed he was now slightly taller then the door jam and getting taller by the second! How could he not have noticed this??!! No! There was no way that he could be getting taller!!! It wasn’t possible. He has to have fallen asleep when he sat down on the couch. A demon couldn’t actually... didn’t actually… He ran to the persimmon and with the silver knife cut it open. Inside it was empty. Not one seed… not one drop of juice. Nothing!!!! The demon had eaten the entire thing... No!! That wasn’t possible!! He had to be asleep. He couldn’t be getting taller!! He paced around the room but each second it seemed to get smaller and smaller as he shot further up. Trying to remember what he asked for, Ian played back the evening in his head. He had asked to be 6’4... but he was already taller then that. No... he had elaborated by saying everyone had to look up when he entered a room... that he... his stomach fell.. was several stories tall... Several stories tall! Several stories tall!!!! He had asked to be several stories tall and he was actually growing taller. This shouldn’t be possible! This only happened in... Fuck... I went further... I did!! I said my shadow covered London!! I said I was... Whether it was the reality of getting talker or the thought of how tall he was to become... Ian’s cock started to get hard. It looked so tiny next to his newly enormous hands, but when it was fully hard, it pulsed with a life of its own. Each second it pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and each second more and more blood was forced into it. The sensation was over whelming. New thick veins began to form and erupt all over Ian’s cock in order to supply more and more blood. Ian winced a little as his cock kept getting harder and harder... like it was in one of those vacuum pumps he had tried. This time though, he wasn’t just getting hard, he was getting thicker... much thicker. My cock is as thick as a beer can already... and so fucking veiny! Ian cried out as his cock got thicker still. He wrapped his hand around it and discovered even that couldn’t fully go around it. With more blood pumped in, his fingers pried apart further... and then further still. Feeling like he was receiving punch after punch to the groin, Ian kneeled on the floor. Like his cock, his balls had begun to swell. Within minutes, they were both the size of peaches and fighting for room in his tight sack. His tender balls were hot to the touch... practically burning as they proceeded to gain more mass. He could even hear and feel them churning, becoming supersized sperm factories. Ian was sweating as his world kept changing around him. He laughed a little when he thought of the situation he had gotten himself into... and got butterflies in his stomach when he thought about what he might become. He had demanded the demon turn him into a lumbering muscle monster! Surly the demon knew he was just horny as hell and role playing! Demons had to be reasonable... right?? His cock was so thick now that his growing hands only went halfway around it. It had started getting longer too, and had to be nearly 10” long. The head of his cock had never been much thicker then the shaft, but Ian could now see that it had started growing with the rest of his cock, and was now a huge mushroom sitting on top of his cock. Ian spread out is hand on it, and discovered the head was wider then his palm, and had to be at least 5” long. Fuck!! His head was bigger then some guys cocks!!! Wave after wave of testosterone was entering Ian’s system, and he found that his pubes were getting much longer and fuller. Doing his best to look at the rest of his body, he could see and feel hair shooting out of every pore. If he stayed very still, he could hear his body growing, his cock expanding, and hair sprouting everywhere. He itched his face and felt the starting of a thick beard growing in. He tried standing up to look in the bathroom mirror, but he was taller then the ceiling now. Kneeling quickly down again, he tried to crawl through the door, but his shoulders had begun to widen immensely, to pack on muscle, he guessed, and he simply couldn’t get through the door. I’m a prisoner of my own sitting room, he thought as he sat on the floor. Looking down, his chest was now completely covered in a thick pelt of brown hair. Running his fingers through it, it just felt so good... so masculine. He moved his hands to his face and felt the tremendous growth of beard that had occurred in the past few minutes. It felt long, curly, and dense. Sticking his finger into the beard, he could hardly feel skin beneath!! It was like there were 10 hairs growing out of each pore!! Hair was now coating his arms and legs, the back of his hands, and the tops of his feet. Lifting his arm, he saw long black hair had taken up resident in his pit, coming in as thick as the rest of the hair on his body. Within not time at all, Ian was as hairy as he had wished to be… and still… like everything else on his body, proceeded to flourish. The more the super strong testosterone flowed into his body, the more Ian was welcoming the changes that were occurring. His cock had to be at least 15” long and so thick. It was becoming a pure column of masculinity! His huge balls had stretched his sack further and further and just kept getting larger. Even his own body was on an unstoppable course growing taller and taller, his cock increasing longer and thicker, and everywhere possible, hairier. Ian knew deep down the demon had heard everything he had said, and by sunrise tomorrow he would be the creature he had envisioned as he came: taller the anything on earth, oozing testosterone from every pore, muscles erupting over his entire body, and a cock that was a force all its own. As if his acknowledgement further welcomed the changes, the testosterone of 29,000 warriors began to be released into his body and his muscles began to grow. His shoulders, which had already grown wider for this purpose, simply erupted in mass. Ian cried out in ecstasy as he felt this first surge of muscle. As each muscle in his shoulders proceeded to gain serious bulk, his deltoids were becoming rounder and more defined, adding more and more size to his already wide shoulders. His neck joined in with his delts, quickly becoming an enormous pillar of muscle. From his shoulders to his neck, traps began to emerge, thicken, and gain more girth. His already hard and growing cock was leaking a copious amount of precum as Ian fell into a trance of constant muscle growth. Pecs burst out of his hairy chest, becoming firm and round, inching out further and further until the sheer weight of these brand-new pecs began to force his nipples to point down. Fuck!!! Even his nipples were growing so huge… so firm. Just owning pecs like this was the most incredible feeling; he couldn’t imagine what an entire body of muscle felt like!! With one hand doing its best to stroke his massive cock, the other enjoyed feeling the sheer size and feel of such muscle and hair. Moving down, bricks of abs began to explode out of his lower torso. As each one burst out, Ian simply whimpered, not even able to vocalize what he was feeling. All he could do was drool and try and feel each blossoming muscle with his hands. His giant cock was shooting precum now like a geyser, hitting the wall with a slap. Each abdominal muscle fought for space, getting more dense by the minute. The crevices in between becoming deeper and deeper, that Ian could nearly stick half of his immense fingers in them. His Adonis belt enhanced as his waist tried its best to gain more size while remaining as tight as possible. What is happening to me, Ian thought as he urged on more and more growth. Even his pelvic floor muscles grew larger and thicker to support the 18” of cock he was now sporting. As more and more testosterone took over his system, Ian craved more and more growth. A beast was being released, and it never would be satisfied. Ian flexed and bounced his pecs, loving his new ability to do this. As he looked around the room, he quickly realized his body was taking over most of the space. How tall am I now, he wondered. Have I passed 12 feet in height?? What will it feel like to be hundreds of stories tall, his legs dwarfing buildings, and his head hidden in the clouds? I’m scared shitless right now, but it’s the best scary feeling I’ve ever felt. I can’t stop it… I don’t know if I want to stop it if I could! How will I live when I’m that big? Fuck!! Who cares!!! I’ll be a living mountain!!! No! Don’t think that way!! This has to stop soon!! He knew the demon must have enjoyed granting this wish, a blessing and a curse all wrapped in one. More veins erupted onto the surface of his cock to better supply more blood to the growing appendage. His cock didn’t look real anymore. It looked like one of those morphs you once saw on Tumblr. It was now becoming so thick that his pelvis was becoming larger just to accommodate its size. Ian tried to think what its thickness reminded him off, but he cane up short. It must be as thick as three wine bottles stuck together was the best he could come up with. His balls also forced his legs wider. They were so immense now that the sack sat comfortably on the floor filled with two watermelon sized testicles sending out wave after wave of insane growth. Ian screamed out as his upper arms blasted with sudden mass as his biceps and triceps quadrupled in size. His arms were already so long that the muscles had plenty of room to multiply into colossal mounds. Flexing his arms felt totally comfortable to the testosterone fuelled Ian. Each time he did it, the peak was higher and higher, thicker and denser. If only there were people here to witness his reality defying size. Trying to make more room for his increasing body, Ian swung his lower arm to push the sofa to the side, but instead succeeded in fully demolishing it with little more then a tap. Ian simply laughed when he saw this happen. I’m so fucking strong now!!! So strong!!!! He picked up a piece of the couch and squeezed it, watching it disintegrate between his fingers. Destroying the sofa gave Ian a little more space, but his entire body was beginning to take up the entire large room. He was already sitting in the floor, his back resting against one wall, his head inching up to the ceiling, his legs folded on the floor, and his feet taking up nearly half the opposite wall. As his upper arms bulked up in size, his firearms followed, becoming as thick as his leg, then surpassing that. His hands, nearly four feet long, also became stronger and more rugged as they morphed into the hands of a true weight lifter. Each digit swelled into fat sausage-like fingers, and the palms of his hands were hardened with the toughest calluses. He opened and closed his hands and fell in love with this appearance of pure dominance… pure masculinity. His hard cock surged up longer and hit the opposite wall, putting a indentation into it. Ian laughed as he flexed it, watching as it put further holes in the wall. I have a fucking wrecking ball for a cock!!! As Ian flexed his arms over and over again, enjoying the bloated feel of his muscles, his lats began to spread out wider and wider. How many inches around was his chest?? Had he hit the 150 inches mark?? He had surpassed that in seconds as his lats grew more and more freaky, forcing his own arms to bow out. His rib cage also had to have grown in the process since his chest was so insanely huge. Looking down at his torso the best he could, his lower half, though tapering in significantly, had to be at least 90” around. These were all guesses. Ian had no clue how huge he was... all that he knew was that his head was inching closer to the ceiling and soon he’d have no other option then to demolish the house around him. It sounded like a bomb went off the moment his quads began to grow. Quickly they began to take up more and more space, forcing his legs to straighten out more. Barely able to see his quads due to his pecs and position on the wall, he felt them with his hands and realized they had to be as big as redwood trees and still growing. Painfully, He could feel his pelvis shifting, altering, and adjusting itself to enable his quads more room to grow. He was sure that with these quads he would definitely find it difficult to walk unless it was in a bow legged fashion, or the traditional waddle of the bodybuilder. He was able to see his left calf grow until it was the size of his original quad, and then burst even larger. Like his hands before them, his feet got fatter and wider as muscle mass packed into them. Ian has never thought of feet as sexy before, but that wasn’t until he saw how beautifully muscular his hairy feet were becoming. With a thud, Ian’s huge head hit the ceiling. He tried to crouch down more, but only succeeded in knocking the wall down behind him. He fell backward into the rubble, and realized that at least lying down in the hallway gave him a few more feet of room to grow. This is a nightmare, he thought, as heard his entire body getting larger and larger. Fuck, it’s a dream!! I’m so fucking enormous! This house is like my cocoon and I’m going to burst out of it soon. Wait till you see me, world!! He felt his cock swell more and take down part of the ceiling with it. Laughing, Ian knocked down part of the wall that separated the hallway and the kitchen. I’m a one man wrecking team!!! Hundreds of pounds of muscle were being deposited on Ian’s body each minute, as he grew bigger and bigger. Very soon he had out grown the extra few feet in the hallway and was going to have no other option then to push his way out of his ever decreasing prison. His cock had already started the fight with the walls and the ceiling, and would no doubt serve as an excellent battering-ram!! Shifting his ever growing legs, he planned to simply push the back wall out and go from there. Once his legs were straight, he could sit up, taking the entire house down with him. Then the world could finally witness its new resident... its living monument to masculinity!! He was just about to set his plan in motion when all growth ceased, and a voice filled the entire house. - Ian Winter’s... working with magics beyond your realm of understanding can be a dangerous affair. You called me, made your request known, and to teach you a lesson, I have begun to grant your desires. But never let one say that I’m not merciful. I give you a choice: I can grant you what you wanted originally... the perfect human form of masculinity... or you can continue on your journey here... What will it be? Ian lay there in silence, his entire house ready to fall down around him. The demon was willing to give him a normal life with the body he had originally wanted... or he could forget normal and embrace what he was becoming. He shifted his body slightly, sensing the weight and feel of every muscle on his body. His titanic cock was leaning against the opposite wall... it was incredible but he would never fuck again. His body was so hairy, the smell emitting from it so intoxicating... but was this what he really wanted... or had it been a silly horny fantasy? No one really wanted what he was being given... or did they? To live a life beyond massive... to tower above the world... to be a beast of pure sex and pure muscle... - What will it be, Ian Winters? Remember you have only been given less then a quarter of what you asked for. Ian opened his mouth... was he really going to do it? Was he really going to throw away his life for muscle… masculinity? YES!!!!!!! Terrified and excited at the same time to say the words, his leaking cock told the demon his answer. - Do it!!!! Let’s continue this journey!!!!!! - So be it!!! It felt like twenty nuclear reactors exploded in Ian’s body as his growth went into full throttle. - Just as you requested... So tall that your shadow covers London. Ian finally felt free as he erupted from his house. Not having to worry about that anymore, he just reveled in the orgasmic feeling of growth. Taller and taller he got, taking up more and more room!! Soon his own foot was as big as a small car, then a medium sized one... then a Hummer. The whole world was getting smaller and smaller and he loved it. He was talker then the tallest tree!! He was several stories high... he constantly took up more and more space and the feeling was indescribable!!! He shifted his stance, and he took down several houses around him. For a second he felt sorry… but what could he do? With a body like this, there was bound to be destruction!!! Ian could hear screaming coming from below him and he just grinned… no longer caring. - My cock defies description... long, thick, thousands of highways of veins... so freakish it would be disgusting... and so large you couldn’t even fuck a blue whale Were those really his words the demon was throwing back at him?? As he grew taller, his cock proceeded to have a growth spurt of its own. It was now so thick that it rivalled his waist!! Precum flowed like a river as it continually got longer and thicker. Ian felt like he was constantly being edged and this feeling only intensified with each passing second. Hanging past his knees, more and veins appeared in and around his cock. The skin was so thin that it actually had a bluish hue as thousands of more veins pushed out and pulsated on the surface forcing it to grow even larger. The head... fuck... a human could easily walk into his piss slit it was so huge!! Stretching his arm out as best he could, Ian took his middle finger and began to stick it into his piss slit. FUCKK!!!!! That felt amazing!!! He stuck it in further and began to move it in and out. I’m fucking fingering my own cock and it is the best feeling ever!!!!! - My balls are the size of cars and I have the testosterone of 150,000 cavemen! Ian roared like the beast he was becoming as his balls emitted the largest wave of caveman testosterone into his system. As his balls enhanced, so enormous and dense, they pulled his sack down virtually to his knee, other changes were beginning to occur. The hair on his head began to get longer, pushing down past his shoulders. His beard developed impossibly thicker, bushier, and longer. His whole body was now covered in the thickest black hair, but it was his chest, cock, and armpits where it was its most dense. A musty smell was emitted from Ian’s body and carried on the air. - Look at me!!!! I am so fucking masculine!!!! His voice was now so loud it could be heard 20 miles away, and it was constantly getting deeper and deeper till it sounded exactly like the thunder rumbling as requested of the demon. I can’t believe this is me... he kept thinking!! I am becoming so beautiful, so impossible!!! Fuck!!! I can’t stop growing!!! - I’m so masculine I’m de-evolving. His own words spoken by the demon hit Ian like a ton of bricks. As soon as he heard them, his entire face began to change. His brow ridge became more pronounced, his eyebrows bushier, his eyes deeper set, and his lips thicker. His PhD studies were thrown out the window, as all he could do was think about his body, his cock, his muscles, cumming, and food. Ian was pure instinct now. - I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos and piercings. Ian roared and roared again as he became even hairier. His nipples suddenly had two immense silver barbells in them, his cock head had the largest Prince Albert anyone had ever seen... and both arms, chest, and abs were covered in tribal tattoos. These were virtually impossible to see due to his chest hair... but they did exist. - I’m a fucking muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscles. The words echoed in Ian’s ears and he welcomed them. Yes!! Fill me up with size!! My arms are like skyscrapers, my legs like mountains, fuck... my chest is too big to even think about measuring!!! I’m so heavy, so bloated with muscle, so ripped, every muscle pulsates on its own like it’s alive... and I keep gaining more and more mass!!! This can’t be real... but it is!!! Fuck, My lats are such massive wings they block the air flow around me!!!! - I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! My head is punching through the clouds. I feel so alive!!! I can barely see the world below me!! All I see is an army of ants!! Look at my cock. Even with two hands I can hardly jerk it off... but I’m so horny!!! I need to cum so bad. What have I done??!! I’ve gotten my greatest wish fulfilled and I love it!! Nothing is mightier then me!! Nothing is more powerful then me!!! I am masculinity!!! From now on, when those human describe masculinity they will point up to the sky at me!!! At me!!!!!! With a roar that broke ever window for one hundred miles, Ian proceeded to ejaculate, showering the worshipers below.

Hey y’all so I like a lot of the stories on this forum and I decided to try writing one myself keep in mind all characters are above or at least 18 years of age and there won’t be much of anything involving growth in this chapter, Thank you. PS: (There will also probably be a lot of grammar errors also”) Part 1: The cold campus air blew into my dorm, long before the alarm clock even went off. But I wasn’t going to attempt to make contact with the with the winter air before I absolutely had to. About 15 minutes after my alarm originally went off, “Get up Josh” I said to myself, then I got up to do my morning routine (starting with a blistering hot shower of course). I always loved my Saturday morning routines in the dormitory public restroom, I could freely hum or sing and not have anyone stare at me. You see I go to a small college in Oregon for musical theater, it wasn’t terrible; but it also wasn’t the best. Just like my musical theater abilities I guess... As I walked into the bathrooms I noticed the usual graffiti, but to be honest it was better than smelling disgusting vape smoke while I’m trying to brush my teeth like usual. I set my stuff down outside the shower in a neat pile, and got in the small cabinet of water (if you will), “You should probably take your clothes off before you start the water” I said appreciating the acoustics of the room. So I did what I have always dreaded, looking at my body... You see my body is on the line of painfully average and wow you’re skinny, I am 5,7 and about 136 pounds of flesh,bones, and baby fat with short light brown hair to match... It’s not that I hated my body it’s just I wished it was bigger. So finally after about 25 minutes of monologuing in my head (who is hearing this anyway?) I started the water and I sang out all of my broadway jams. About half way through my conditioning and belting I heard a faint cough. Although I didn’t want them to see me naked, I was painfully curious. And I was technically done so I let my curiosity get the best of me I looked all around the bathroom “phew” I sighed for relief. And I got dressed and headed for the sinks, “Nice job” said an energetic voice. I turned around to see a guy about my age with short dark hair about 6,0... and a great face with a cross country like build (oh yeah did I mention I’m very homosexual) leaning against the shower that was right next to mine with a huge smile on his face. I was so startled I think my heart stopped for a moment but immediately started back up again once we made eye contact, “Hiiiigdjmhfvnjfdg JOSH” I stuttered. He laughed not out of mockery but out of excitement, “sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard your voice from right outside the room.” He said looking slightly concerned, “I’ve seen you around the dormitory before... you always seem like you’re in your own little world I’m Micheal by the way” he blurted out awkwardly. “Josh” I said slower this time heckin confused on why this guy is talking to me. You see it’s almost the end of the first semester and I still haven’t made a single friend... just a boat load of acquaintances. “Well this was an awkward meeting but hey we met am I right?” “Sure” I awkwardly nodded. “Here” he said, reaching for my arm, “here’s my number, so hopefully we can re meet and pretend this never sorta happened...” he said writing his number on my arm in sharpie. Then he waved goodbye and I don’t remember if I waved that was kinda a blur. To be continued...

First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12351-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-fourteen/ Author’s note: This is the final chapter of Part 1. Waaayyyyy late. As a reminder, the story takes place in 2011 with flashbacks to 2001. CHAPTER FIFTEEN The air was thick with nervous anticipation as the rumble of the low-flying passenger jet faded. I wondered if Manhattan had ever been so quiet. If it was maintaining the same direction we had observed, it flew south along Fifth Avenue. I wondered how long it would take it to reach 34th Street and then how long the sound of the feared impact would take to return to Sheep Meadow. I felt Matt looking at me and turned to face him. His face was completely white. “Now,” he said without emotion … and right on cue, echoing up the canyons of Fifth and Sixth Avenues, rolled the distorted, metallic and seemingly inevitable … BOOM. Cries. Shrieks. Disbelief. Confusion. Already I have failed to protect them. I watched as the vast and closely packed mass of people grew restless. Some turned to me, I assumed for direction or to see how I would respond. Others were pushing toward the east, presumably to look southward on Fifth for visual confirmation of what we all feared. Matt was furiously poking at his iPhone. I still had no idea what to do and looked at Hank. “If they start to panic, you gotta shut ‘em down,” he said as if sensing my need for direction. “People will get trampled,” I said. He nodded slowly. “You worried ‘bout that?” His question almost hurt. “Of course I am,” I said defensively. “I’m probably the most compassionate person you know.” “Not when that switch flips in your head.” He was right but I had no answer for him. I ignored his observation and had decided to make my way over to Fifth Avenue when Matt announced what everyone had most feared. His face twisted with desperation, he held up his iPhone so that I could see the screen and looked at me. “It hit the Empire State Building.” Thousands of voices filled the air as people began shoving in all directions. …the air filled with screams and shrieks. A woman very near me was yelling “Oh my god! Oh my god!” repeatedly. I felt the ground vibrate and turned my head to the left in time to see the South Tower collapsing in on itself with a thunderous roar. I stared at it, eyes wide, refusing to believe what I was seeing. As it fell it transformed into an immense cloud of billowing dust and debris that expanded rapidly in our direction. I could see the leading edge of a roiling tsunami of debris rushing toward me yet I remained locked in place, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Two people fleeing the angry cloud bumped into me before Hank seized my hand… Although I wasn’t moving, I realized that I was panicking as well. “Jamal,” Hank prodded. “NOW.” I took a deep breath as I raised my tremendous arms toward the sky. “YOU WILL STOP AND REMAIN CALM!” I bellowed as loudly as I thought those near me could bear. Then as quickly as the cacophony of voices began, it faded. The crowd was still. And the rumble of an approaching jet drifted down from the north. Not fucking again. “YOU WILL CALMLY RETURN TO YOUR HOMES,” I ordered before turning back to Hank and Matt. “Except you two.” Once again, everyone seemed to obey me, although mindfully rather than as the zombies they had appeared to be earlier. People were again moving in all directions, but now in an orderly and deliberate manner. Despite their obedience, I was extremely frustrated. “All this power and I can’t do shit to stop an airplane,” I complained. “Have you tried flying?” Hank asked. I scowled. “Do I look like Superman?” “You look like you could totally kick his ass.” “I can’t fly, Hank.” I looked at Matt, whose expression became thoughtful. “Have you tried?” he asked. As ridiculous as it sounded, I had to admit that I hadn’t tried, so I squatted down on the turf and extending my legs with all my might, thrust upward with the hope of launching myself into the air. Instead, my feet plowed down into the earth with such force that a huge cloud of dirt and grass erupted skyward and outward. I rose maybe fifty feet into the air and then slammed into the ground again as the cloud of dirt rained down around me. I found myself face down in a crater of my own making. “I guess that settles that,” I said. I pushed myself up and looked around. Both Hank and Matt were covered with dirt. The roar of the jet grew closer. “What kind of god are you, anyway?” Hank asked impatiently as he brushed himself off with his uninjured hand. “A god that can’t fly,” I said as I climbed to my feet. The approaching jet grew louder. I looked at my loyal companions. Suddenly, I knew what to do. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” I told them. “Hank needs medical attention,” Matt said. “We’ll catch up with you later.” I briefly froze, ashamed and angry with myself for forgetting about Hank’s right hand. They were already turning away from me. “Wait!” I said. They turned back to face me. “If Terry is right, my cum should heal your hand.” “There’s no time!” Matt called out. “Deal with that plane and we’ll meet you at home!” “Let’s find Terry,” Hank suggested as they disappeared into the crowd. I sprang into action. Thrusting a bit more carefully with only my left leg, I leapt toward Central Park West. If I couldn’t fly, I could at least cover the few hundred yards to the avenue very rapidly. Right, left, right, left. In a matter of seconds, I reached the street, which was backed up southbound as far as I could see, and found a vehicle that would do. A heavy tow truck sat trapped in traffic in the left-hand lane. I bolted for the cab, pulled the door off and dropped it. “Sorry, I need to borrow your truck,” I said to the slack-jawed driver as I reached in and pulled him from his seat. The jet roared overhead at perhaps a thousand feet as I set him down. There was no doubt. It was heading directly toward the World Trade Center. “Please stand back,” I warned as I tilted the vehicle onto its right wheels just enough to reach the undercarriage. Seizing the frame, I lifted the truck overhead and tilted it back until I could see the jet. Carefully, for I didn’t want to apply so much force to the frame that the truck would tear itself apart, I placed one foot well ahead of the other, stretched my arms back as far as I could without falling backward, and hurled it toward the rapidly disappearing jet with all my might. The sound and force of the sonic boom created by the truck’s rapid acceleration took me by surprise and I instinctively winced as windows in all directions shattered. The asphalt beneath me also shattered and deformed as the power of my throw drove my bare feet several inches back and down into the pavement. I looked up and to the south to see the truck quickly overtake the jet. It slammed into the starboard engine, most of which tore free from the wing in an explosion of ignited fuel. A rain of machinery, large and small, fell across what must have been Hell’s Kitchen. What did I just do? What if this was a coincidence? What if its flight path was totally innocent? The new tower isn’t even to full height yet, why would it be a target? I wished Matt were with me. Somehow, he would know. The jet was beginning to veer toward the west when it disappeared behind the buildings to the south. The now familiar feeling of helplessness returned. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what to do next. I was in no way prepared to lead or protect anyone. Car alarms were going off right and left. The wail of sirens pierced the air. I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the street, buck naked, with my flaccid penis hanging down to my knees. Even with my feet driven six or so inches into the pavement, I was at least seven feet tall and towered over most of the people who had gathered around me. To my relief, they weren’t being submissive. Though certainly in awe of me, they were also shocked and curious. It was the truck driver who spoke first. “Wha … what was that?” He said. “I thought that plane was heading for the World Trade Center,” I explained. “I wanted to take it down.” “You threw that tow truck like it was a baseball, man!” A teenage boy said. “You’re like Superman but super swole!” I stepped out of the hole I had made in the street. Everyone backed away a few steps. A few did fall to their knees. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” At least not intentionally. “I’m here to….” I hesitated, uncertain of what to say. I’m here to rule the world? I’m here to clean up the mess we’ve made? “I’m here to protect you. Protect the Earth.” “Like Superman!” The teenager said excitedly. I furrowed my brow. “I can’t fly,” I said as if it were a failing. The situation was very surreal. I was having an almost casual conversation with a group of strangers. No one was worshipping, as they had been only moments earlier. Most weren’t bowing down before me in deference as they had been all week. They were simply acting like … people. Although I did enjoy being worshipped, at least at times, I realized that I didn’t expect or need it. I found I liked this dynamic much better. “Who are you?” A male voice asked. Then everyone was speaking, both talking amongst themselves and asking me questions. “What are you?” I heard a different man ask. “You’re the guy everyone has been talking about,” a woman this time. “The muscle guy on YouTube!” “Damn, he’s even bigger now.” “The Empire State Building has been hit by a plane!” I heard a woman scream. “He keeps growing.” “Check out his dick man! Talk about the dick of death!” I looked around me again. So many people were talking and gathering and gawking that I couldn’t make out what they were saying. This wasn’t getting anyone anywhere. I held up my arms. “Everyone!” I said. The crowd fell silent. “I want you all to go home and wait for instructions from the city. There could be more attacks.” And I’m going to do my best to stop them. They may not have been worshipping me, but they were completely obedient. As the crowd dispersed, I considered running down to 34th Street to see if I could help. Then I stopped in the middle of the traffic-snarled street and looked down. My massive chest filled my vision, blocking my view of the rest of me below it. My cock was soft, hanging, nestled in front of my giant quads where I couldn’t see it. I looked back up and blinked. Somehow, for the first time in a week, I felt completely at home in my radically changed body, as if I were just Jamal. “One thing has ended,” I said softly. “And something new begins.” Late afternoon had given way to evening. Hank kept hold of my hand as we continued down West Broadway toward Ground Zero. I didn’t understand why. He had never wanted to hold hands when we were together. Of course, I was holding his hand as well and I didn’t know why I was doing that either. It felt nice. I still loved him. I missed him. It was an odd form of torture. I assumed that he was taking me down town to Church and Barclay, where we had first met, where we saw the south tower fall, where our journey together had begun, in some misguided attempt to observe our anniversary, such as it was. I hadn’t been this close to the World Trade Center site since that day and as we approached, my anxiety grew. It was more than the location of thousands of lost and destroyed lives. It was the scar left by religious fanatics – terrorists. It was a demonstration of the danger of radicalization. It was yet another example of the horrors that we as humans are capable of. We stood at the crosswalk across Chambers and waited for the light to change. I felt as if we had entered some kind of negative energy field of anger and grief, vengeance and hate, and worst of all, failure. My failure. I didn’t want to go closer. My palms grew sweaty. I could feel Hank staring at me. He tapped my forehead gently. “What’s goin’ on in there?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” “This is really hard,” I said. “Being so close. It makes me … I don’t know … I guess I’m scared.” “Scared,” he said doubtfully. “You climb around on I-beams like a monkey all day while hundreds of feet in the air and you’re scared.” I didn’t reply. The light changed. Hank continued holding my hand as we walked the few remaining blocks to our destination. He stopped in front of a parking garage. The parking garage. I was angry and confused. I had almost died here. Karen had died here. “This is it,” he said. My temper flared. “Why are we here?” I said crossly. “Why…” But Hank put his finger over my mouth. “Shhhhhhhhh,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I brought you here to thank you.” I looked inside the brightly lit entrance to where I had carried Karen, where we had been found. “Thank me for what?” “You’re wrong, Jamal. You didn’t fail Karen. You helped her,” his voice broke and his eyes glistened with gathering tears. “You found her injured and scared and brought her here. What was the last thing she said to you?” I remembered it so clearly. I felt her kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper in my ear... “Thank you,” I said, looking down at the sidewalk. “She said, ‘thank you.’” “Yeah. Exactly. You rescued her and made her feel safe. She fell asleep and died feeling safe.” Tears were streaming down his face. I had never seen Hank cry before and I suddenly felt very selfish for blaming myself for so long. He smiled through the tears. “So I wanna thank you too,” he said as he continued looking into my eyes. I was at a loss for a moment but before my throat tightened too much, I managed to croak “you’re welcome.” Then I was on all fours, draining a year’s worth of pain onto the indifferent concrete in the form of heavy tears. * * * A few hours and several drinks later, Hank and I stumbled out of an upscale bar on West Houston Street and into the night. Traffic on the one-way street was light but the sidewalks were alive with a surprising number of pedestrians. We headed back to my flat. He had his huge arm around my shoulders as we walked, oblivious to the wake we created as people were forced around us. “Thanks for doing this today,” I said. “I feel a lot better.” Hank smiled and looked at me. “One thing’s ended,” he slurred. “An’ somethin’ new begins.” I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I was confident that we could at least be friends. Most importantly, I felt optimistic for the first time in a year. I ran south on 10th Avenue as fast as I could without destroying everything in my path. Propelling myself down the middle of the street at highway speeds without colliding with oncoming cars or pedestrians in crosswalks was challenging, but so far, I’d managed to run several blocks without causing any serious damage. I quickly learned just how much force to apply with my legs to leap over a car versus a truck or bus. Someone with a radio had reported that a plane had crash-landed near the Pier 51 playground and fallen into the river. I knew exactly where the playground was. It was only blocks from my apartment. As I raced down the avenue through Hell’s Kitchen, I again second-guessed my actions. The new tower was designed and built to survive the impact of a jumbo jet. Any damage caused by ramming an airliner into the building would be limited. I knew guys who were working on it. I had worked with many of them before. Some were second or third generation ironworkers whose fathers had built the Twin Towers or even whose grandfathers had built the Empire State Building. In fact, I didn’t apply to work on the project because I didn’t want to displace a man who had earned the right to place and connect those I-beams. It was sacred. And though I didn’t participate, I was familiar with its design and it would take much more than an aircraft impact to bring that building down. Of course, 1WTC wasn’t the only possible target. It was certainly the most symbolic, but perhaps the terrorists had set their sights on another building. Or perhaps it was something else that I hadn’t considered. Or perhaps there wasn’t another target at all. Had I saved a skyscraper from destruction at the hands of terrorists or knocked an aircraft with hundreds of innocent passengers out of the sky for no reason? I raced by the location of the Hudson train yard and by the time I had left it far behind, I became convinced that I had overreacted. But then I was there. The Meatpacking District. Gansevoort Street. An American Airlines 777 that was halfway into the river nose first. The pilot had tried to land on the highway, but in the process took out a few cars, traffic lights, trees, and streetlights as it slid partially into the river. Traffic was backed up in all directions and a growing crowd of people was gathering in a semi-circle starting around 100 feet away from the aircraft’s tail. No emergency vehicles had arrived yet. There probably weren’t any available. I leapt over the crowd so that I was between them and the jet and turned to face the now even-more-shocked faces. “I NEED EVERYONE TO BACK AWAY,” I announced in what Matt had called my “god voice” before turning to face the jet and evaluate the situation. Most of the starboard engine was missing of course, but surprisingly, at least to me, there was no fuel leaking from the wing nor was there any sign of fire. Equally strange was that all of the exit doors remained closed. The passengers weren’t being evacuated. But answers to those mysteries would have to wait until I got it out of the water. The nose of the aircraft was mostly submerged, the tail far overhead and out of my reach. I needed to pull it out by the rear landing gear, preferably both sets at the same time. If only I had an extra heavy chain… And there it was – to my right, along the edge of the sanitation department’s pier, was a chain of massive iron links. It was perhaps 50 yards long and threaded through a long line of steel posts. In no time I had pulled it free of the posts and snapped it in half. Wrapping one end of each segment around the two landing gear struts, I twisted the foot-long links together with my hands, essentially welding the loops closed. Only a few minutes after my arrival, I had the free ends of the two chains in my hands and was pulling them taut. The aircraft groaned. The pressure of my feet against the concrete pavement caused it to fracture. I slowly pulled it backward and as the aircraft began to move, I wondered how much weight I was dealing with. Each of the two chains must have been several tons, and the aircraft itself? Hundreds of tons? But its weight wasn’t important, for even as the fuselage of the jet dragged against the concrete and the nose lifted out of the water, even as the front landing strut snapped off as it encountered the edge of the embankment, I barely noticed any resistance at all. It was like pulling my little red wagon as a child when it was empty – effortless. I had just sprinted a few miles in minutes. I was filled with anxiety and guilt. I should have been awash in sweat and adrenaline but was not. My heart, or whatever was pulsing in my chest, did so calmly and slowly. My body had transformed into something seemingly indestructible, but my mind was as human as ever. The jet was completely out of the water. Stripped of its front landing gear, the nose of the aircraft rested on the embankment. I leapt up onto the starboard wing and sinking my fingers into the aluminum skin of the cabin, pulled one of the doors free and tossed it aside. My eyes adjusted instantly as I peered inside. The aircraft was empty. There were no passengers. There were not even any seats. Instead, two rows of large unmarked boxes, each a cube perhaps 6 feet in all three dimensions, stretched down the center from front to back for roughly half the length of the fuselage. I stepped all the way in and turned to the right with the intention of checking the cockpit. What looked like four parachute packs hung in the cabin a short distance away. “Freeze!” A male voice barked from behind. “Do not move!” I turned around. “I said DO NOT MOVE!” There were two men in dark blue military uniforms that I didn’t recognize, each with what appeared to be an automatic weapon trained on me. They were perhaps 50 feet away and wore masks of some kind. I couldn’t see their faces, but their skin was white. I briefly wondered if their weapons could harm me but it seemed unlikely. “Are you the pilots?” I said. “What’s in these…” “SHUT UP!” The man on the right, presumably the one in charge, yelled. “Do not move!” he repeated. I found myself wishing I knew how to control my ability to force submission but I could no more consciously turn it on as I could turn it off. I began walking toward them. “FREEZE!” The lead barked again. “One more step and I’ll fire!” “No!” his companion whispered in earnest. “You’ll kill us both.” Both men sounded as American as I or Hank or Matt. I paused for a moment. Something was very wrong. The aircraft was painted in the livery of American Airlines, yet the interior was completely generic. No logos, no flags, no markings of any kind. The men’s uniforms were equally generic and devoid of insignia. I listened as they continued to talk in what they believed to be tones I could not hear. If anyone else were standing at this distance they would have been correct, but I could understand them perfectly. Though impatient, I remained still as ordered. “Whoever this freak is just pulled this aircraft out of the river single-handedly,” the lead said. “We have to neutralize him or get him off this jet.” “What if the bullets bounce off of him and detonate the cargo?” The other man asked. Detonate the cargo? The lead scoffed. “Are you an idiot?” He looked at me. “Step out onto the wing,” he ordered, but I had run out of patience. “How about you put your toys down,” I said as I resumed walking toward them. The lead man immediately fired dozens of rounds from his weapon, which hit my chest and except for a few that somehow lodged in my chest hair, indeed did bounce off in various directions. As I drew nearer though, his hands began shaking and he dropped to his knees without a word. “That’s better,” I said calmly as I continued to approach. “Now tell me about your mission.” Then, in a moment of unexpected self-control, he turned his gun toward one of the cargo containers to my right and fired into it. At the same time, his subordinate, who had fallen next to him, cried “NO!” as he tried to reach for the weapon. But it was too late. The echo of his plea had not even diminished when the container exploded. The last thing I saw as the force of the blast propelled me toward the vaporizing fuselage and into the early afternoon sun was the detonation of the surrounding containers. * * * The sound and sensation of water flowing around me nudged me to consciousness and I opened my eyes. I was on my back in the fountain in Austin J. Tobin Plaza, gazing up at the vertically striped white towers of the World Trade Center, which soared forever upward into a deep blue sky – the South Tower to my left, the North Tower to my right. The cool water from the fountain ran gently around my shoulders and arms. I remained there for some time, staring into the cloudless sky. I could hear only the wind and water, feel only the sun, breeze, and gentle current. I couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed. There were no voices, no sounds of traffic, no airplanes… “Jamal!” Hank’s voice called. No airplanes. I bolted upright, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “Jamal!” Hank called again. “You hafta stop the plane!” I leapt to my feet and quickly surveyed the plaza. It was completely empty. No one was in sight. “Hank?” I called out. I felt a tap on my right shoulder and spun around to face the fountain. Hank was standing directly in front of me, looking exactly as he had when we met. The wind was at my back and blew around me, lifting his long, copper hair as if he were facing into a fan. I looked up into his eyes, which were unusually large and smoky again. “Where did you come from?” I asked, completely confused. He was his 2001 self, as was I. Hank didn’t speak but instead pointed toward the sky. I looked up, following his gesture just as a white aircraft passed above the Twin Towers and exploded, generating a blinding flash of heat and light. “There’s one more jet,” Hank said, as a rapidly expanding fireball enveloped the towers and raced toward us. “You have to stop it or everyone will die.” “What?” I asked, even more confused. “Flex, Jamal,” he said. “Flex everything! NOW!” * * * Several, perhaps dozens of tons of whatever material had been in the cargo containers, were exploding and in that instant, I realized that my sense of time had changed. Everything appeared to move in slow motion. As I drifted up and away from the rapidly evaporating jet, I could somehow see each container erupt and disintegrate, the individual blasts expand outward at enormous yet easily traceable speeds, even as I was enveloped in a maelstrom of flame and intersecting shockwaves. I was perhaps 100 yards away from where I had been standing on the plane. The fireball was probably 300 yards in diameter. Flex, Hank had said. So, I did. I flexed my arms and my traps and my pecs, my lats and my abs and my glutes, my quads and my hamstrings and my calves. I flexed everything, squeezing as hard as I could, for I knew why I was doing it. The only way to stop the explosion was to absorb it. * * * I felt a torrent of water gushing against my back and opened my eyes. I was on my back, looking at a partly-cloudy afternoon sky. Immediately to my right, a damaged fire hydrant lay on its side. I had landed on it and taken it out. There’s one more jet. Everyone will die, Hank said. I sprang to my feet and briefly surveyed my surroundings. I was again taller, which meant I was again bigger and stronger, but despite the resulting twitch of my cock I pushed that from my mind. I had something larger than my growing cock to deal with. I was near Gansevoort and Tenth Avenue. Across the street toward the river, nothing remained of the aircraft. The facades of the buildings facing the Hudson were scorched, but apart from that the damage seemed limited to shattered windows. People were likely killed or injured in the blast before I was able to absorb it, but I couldn’t help them. I had to figure out how to stop another aircraft without killing more people. Somehow, I needed to reach it. I could run to the West 30th Street heliport and hope that a helicopter and pilot were available, but that didn’t seem workable. At best, the jet pilot would only avoid the helicopter. If I can throw a tow truck a few thousand feet I can certainly jump high enough to reach a low-flying aircraft. That was the answer. I just needed a solid enough surface to leap from in a central location. Rat Rock. I had to return to Central Park. This time, I ran up Eighth Avenue, soaring between the US Post Office and Penn Station. What did Hank mean, everyone will die? Everyone on the aircraft? Everyone in the target building? Everyone in lower Manhattan? I felt ineffectual, lost. I had become so accustomed to having Hank and Matt around, so dependent on their insight and advice, that I felt incomplete without them. I tried not to imagine the scene at the Empire State Building. For now, I pushed my friends from my mind. It might be difficult for me to find them, but I knew how to make it easy for them to find me. At roughly one block per stride, it took only a few minutes for me to cover the distance to Columbus Circle. The streets of Manhattan, at least south of the park, seemed to be gridlocked. A logjam of buses, cars, and trucks surrounded the monument to Christopher Columbus, filling the roundabout. I leapt to avoid them… …and landed atop Rat Rock, a roughly circular outcropping of schist 50 or 60 feet in diameter and twice my height, shattering a thin layer of the gray stone around my feet. No one seemed to be around, and I began to scan the sky, relaxing my eyes so that I could see through the trees and surrounding buildings. The X-ray-like, false color view of the universe returned, revealing a storm of color and patterns that I had no idea how to interpret. I spent a few minutes changing the focus of my eyes, wondering if I could consciously determine which wavelengths I could detect, to see if I could filter out what I didn’t need at the moment. A few objects moved in slow, steady arcs around me. Satellites, I assumed. Most everything else seemed to be stationary until an object approaching from the west caught my attention. Something that was glowing with a harsh blue-white light like the reactors at the Indian Point power plant. Was this the plane that Hank had warned me of or a missile with a nuclear warhead? I couldn’t determine its speed or distance or angle of approach, but it seemed at least a few minutes away. I continued to focus on the approaching object. I tried to zoom in, Steve Austin-like, without luck. I tried examining the radiation source at varying frequencies mostly because it gave me something to do. Then something slammed into my back and exploded. The force of the impact and explosion thrust me forward into a group of trees and I landed on the ground face down. As I climbed to my feet again, a projectile from the opposite direction hit my chest and exploded. And another. And another. “GOD DAMMIT THIS ISN’T A GOOD TIME!” I roared. The grove of trees was in flames as I stood and began searching the sky again, trying to get my bearings. There were now multiple objects moving in the afternoon sky. Several small aircraft circled my location. I could see through the trees and flames and smoke that they were unmanned drones, which might have been helpful except that they were a bit late and targeting the wrong thing. I counted four, a few hundred feet overhead. Then I found the blue-white light of the radiation source. It was close enough for me to see that it was clearly a jet aircraft. I remained at the center of the fire, tracking my target as it approached. It seemed the drones couldn’t get a fix on me while I was engulfed in flames. I would wait as long as I could before I jumped back onto Rat Rock and launched myself at the air. Or would the presence of the drones cause the jet to change course? I hopped back onto the rock outcropping and snapped off a small boulder. The drones immediately changed their courses as I broke the boulder into smaller chunks and began hurling them at the unmanned aircraft. Four direct hits sent them falling to the ground. I felt oddly pleased with myself. At least there was no doubt about my aim. I could now clearly see and hear the approaching jet. It was higher than the others, maybe at 2000 feet, and though it had begun banking to the right, would still pass close enough that I was certain I could reach it. Nearby, the trees continued to burn. I wondered if I could blow them out and began to inhale. For around 30 seconds, I drew air into my lungs. When I felt like I had enough, I turned toward the trees and blew as hard as I could, as if they were candles on a birthday cake. Naturally, I flew backward off the rock and landed in the sand of the Hecksher Playground. I sighed and again climbed to my feet, but at least the fire was out. You’re clumsy, but not completely useless after all, I thought to myself. Nearly an hour must have passed since the Empire State Building had been hit, but other than the drone swarm, which was clearly targeting me, there had been no response from the military. What the hell is going on? Where are our fighter jets? Then I heard the sound of dozens of boots approaching from multiple directions. In seconds I was surrounded by what seemed to be military troops of some kind at a distance of perhaps 50 feet. They had already taken aim. “Jamal Al-Bakri,” an authoritative male voice called out. “You will surrender and come with us. Cooperate or we will fire.” “What?” I said, incredulous. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a third jet…” I looked into the early afternoon sun and pointed. “RIGHT THERE! I believe this one is carrying a nuclear weapon. Now stand aside so I can stop it.” I hopped back onto Rat Rack and was squatting down when I heard the man call “fire!” and I was showered with bullets. I rolled my eyes and stood. “YOU WILL CEASE FIRING.” I commanded. But incredibly, nothing changed. Scores of bullets bounced off of me but also continued to collect in the hair covering my immense pectorals. Some lodged in my beard. I pulled at one and noticed that it had actually wrapped itself around a single thick black hair. I pulled it off, popped it into my mouth, and swallowed. The hair remained attached to my skin. I hopped down and began to walk forward. Occasionally a few of the bullets would strike my penis. They felt good. They feel good, I could do this all day. My cock began to grow and harden. The magnificent beast was awake. I brought my hands up, my epic, bulging forearms, biceps, and pecs competing for space, and began to crush the thickening layer of ammunition against the impossibly massive, striated muscle of my chest, melting and spreading it across the expanse of my pecs, feeling how much broader and thicker they had become, then down my deeply separated eight-pack to my cock, which was now fully erect. It pounded, throbbing visibly as I covered it with molten steel and lead, squeezing it as hard as I could, the pleasure becoming so intense that for a moment I forgot where I was but not what – a being so powerful and masculine and glorious that all would beg to worship me. As my tremendous cock throbbed madly, thrusting nearly a yard before me, my loins burning for release, I brought my arms up, arms which could surely rend the planet in two, and flexed. I closed my eyes and reveled in the immeasurable power of my body, turning my face up to the sky, lost in bliss as my indestructible form was caressed by thousands of rounds of ammunition, which suddenly ceased. The echoes of dozens of automatic weapons faded, revealing only the whine of two jet engines. I opened my eyes to see every soldier silently weeping while either kneeling or bent forward, faces to the ground. Better. I looked up. The jet was about as close as it was going to get. It was also unmarked, at least as far as I could tell. Unlike the others, both of which were painted in the livery of American Airlines, this was simply a plain white twin engine passenger jet. I jumped back onto Rat Rock and quickly wiped most of the metal from my torso and cock. As I squatted down, I wondered how much force my enormous legs could generate. When I threw the wrecker, I simple hurled it as hard as I could. But I didn’t want to fly through the plane. I needed to reach it and stop. Grab hold and tear my way in perhaps. It was moving further away. I launched myself into the air. As I soared toward it, I did feel as if I were flying. The sensation of air rushing by at a few hundred miles per hour – against my skin, around my still-erect cock – was exhilarating. But I was a projectile, subject to the friction of air and the gravity of the Earth, unable to alter course. Still, I was rapidly approaching the aircraft and as I passed through the plume of smoke from the remains of the Empire State Building, I realized I had to somehow grasp the port wing as I passed it at roughly 50 mph. Time seemed to slow. I became aware of two things. One, I was going to miss by a few yards. I was going slightly too fast. Two, I could somehow see the turbulence of the air as the jet cut through it. I could also see the aircraft’s interior to some extent. The harsh blue-white glow of the uranium was near the center of aircraft, its radiation detectable through the casing. The jet was configured to carry cargo. Most of the interior was empty, while the cockpit appeared standard – at least to my layman’s eye – two seats, some equipment, and a door. But, it was empty. No one was flying the plane. I was closing in from below and of course from behind. I held out my arms to reduce my speed, alternately bringing them in and out a bit to fine tune my approach. The port engine was immediately to my right as I passed it – I could have reached out and touched it – but I waited until I could grab the wing’s leading edge. Although I could see the air being drawn into the engine, it was too late – I wasn’t able to adjust my speed to avoid being sucked in without missing the jet entirely. My legs were pulled into the engine fans, which shattered before the bulk of my upper legs and cock forced the engine shaft to stop spinning entirely. Jet fuel accumulated for a second or two – I recognized the smell – before exploding and then burning out. I climbed out of the damaged engine pod and clawed my way along the wing, digging my fingers into the aluminum to keep from being blown off. On reaching the fuselage, I simply tore my way into the cabin, which was dimly lit. The warhead was a cone well over a yard long, which was strapped vertically to a truss that ran from the floor of the cabin to the top. A cable ran from the cone up the truss to a box about a foot on each side with a keypad and a few controls. A digital LED displayed the number 10. As I looked around, I noticed several cameras. I was probably being watched, but of course, I had no idea how to disarm it or even if it were possible. I fantasized about flying it into space. Or maybe I can pilot the jet out over the ocean. I had turned and started toward the cockpit when I heard a quick, soft beep beep. I returned to the truss. The 10 on the control box was now 06 and continued to count down. Only seconds before I had been completely fearless. For all practical purposes I was infinitely strong and completely indestructible. But now I was terrified, and I pulled the cone free of its straps and wrapped myself around it, covering as much of its surface as I could. Hank was down there. Matt was down there. Terry. Carlos. Nearly everyone I cared about plus a million or so others were only a few thousand feet below me. 04 … 03 … maybe I could crush it? I leaned back so that the bulk of my body was between the ground and the warhead and began to squeeze, which collapsed the casing and… It began so small. A perfectly white sphere of plasma only a few yards in diameter replaced the warhead, which was instantaneously vaporized into ionized gas at 100 million degrees. A fraction of a second later, the entire aircraft had been vaporized. By the time I had begun flexing every muscle I could think of, a full second had passed and a fireball a few hundred yards wide had appeared over lower Manhattan with me suspended at its center. I flexed, reveling in the sensation of the enormous energy released by the weapon flowing into my titanic, growing muscles. I had noticed over the past few days that the hotter something was, the better it felt, the more pleasure I experienced. Having a nuclear weapon detonate immediately against my chest bathed me in ecstasy beyond comprehension and I could both see and feel my surging cock grow in both size and hardness, the pressure in my loins mounting to a degree greater even than that of the blast I was containing. I looked down at my unimaginably powerful pecs, watching as the thick black hair that covered them waved and floated in the inferno. One hundred million degrees and not even my hair was singed. I am truly indestructible. My huge cock and balls, stimulated beyond imagination by the extreme heat and pressure, growing and throbbing uncontrollably, unleashed my most powerful orgasm yet, and I aimed my cum cannon toward the sky as it spewed thousands of gallons through the raging inferno surrounding me, soaring up into the atmosphere for miles. I continued to flex as hard as I could, absorbing as much of the escaping heat and energy as possible, canceling out the pressure wave which would have destroyed much of Manhattan. I will become infinitely powerful. I knew this. Hank was right. The universe was creating its own god and the ecstasy this knowledge brought me was overwhelming. I was drunk with my own magnificence. I will have eternal and absolute dominance over all things. I will enslave this universe. A brief shudder of abject terror washed over me, penetrating my ecstasy. No. That is not what I want. But I could feel my consciousness shifting again. Jamal! It was Hank’s voice. “Hank?” Jamal, that’s not you. Hank’s voice was somehow clear through the thunderous roar of the firestorm. You’ve got to resist it. I could feel the pressure increase. Even as the feeling of dread swept through me, the desire to embrace a dark yet infinite pleasure mounted. “What do you mean?” I asked out loud. It wants you. DON’T LET IT IN. Hank said desperately. FIGHT IT! All I could sense was an intense need for conquest. A limitless hunger. Everything must be mastered and enslaved and drained. But that isn't who I am, I replied. * * * Earlier that day, in another place… There are things older than the universe. Ancient things from universes far older than our own or that no longer exist. It was one of those things. Its home universe collapsed a trillion years ago, but it had learned long before of methods to slip between the universes, to navigate from one universe to another. As long as a universe’s physical constants were compatible, it was able enter. For an eternity, it searched through a universe of universes, methodically, deliberately, conserving its energy, maintaining just enough awareness to test a target universe’s physics, just enough awareness to be. It had once enjoyed a seemingly endless torrent of energy drawn over tens of billions of years from all the stars, all the galaxies, all the life of its long-dead home, but its reserves dwindled as the eons passed, as it sought something that appeared increasingly unlikely. Millions of years would pass between finding compatible universes or universes with life, billions of years between finding universes that were compatible and held life, and thus far, a trillion years without finding a compatible universe with life that it could use. It was now barely a cloud of molecules, a fading wisp of organized information that knew little more than a tortured emptiness and an all-consuming hunger. A hunger that had been growing for countless billions of years. A hunger that finally, just as it had resigned itself to oblivion, detected a life form that it could use.

The Test: Episode Six Cronus Vengeance practically glowed with the electricity he had called from the sky. His skin was slick and the metal parts of his flesh shone bright. He flexed his whole body and walked over to his father, Chaos. - Do you approve, Dad? - You did well. - I’m massive, aren’t I? - Yes. - Bigger, I think, then even you are. - You might be. - I feel so alive, Dad. So fucking alive!!! Vengeance roared and electricity from the sockets and lamps shot into his body, massaging it. His muscles swelled up even larger and he seemed to grow taller. - I can’t stop, Dad!!! It feels too good! I think I’ll just keep growing forever!! - Control yourself!! We have work to do. - Work??? We have work to do??? Another massive roar, another burst of electricity, and Vengeance’s pecs swelled to greater proportions. - I decide when I work and when I don’t work! I make the decisions now!!! A fireball appeared in his hand, and he threw it across the room, setting part of the couch ablaze. - I think it just might be time to dethrone you, Dad. What do you think about that? Chaos just stood there and watched at his son. - I said: What do you think??!! Vengeance generated another ball of fire and hurled it at Chaos, striking him directly in the chest. The energy blast flung him across the floor and onto his back. As Vengeance walked over to him, he drew energy from every source, bulking up further. His gargantuan arms, filled to the breaking point with muscle, swelled even larger. - What do you think, Dad? - I think you are a sniveling little brat who should be taught a lesson. Vengeance struck Chaos with a second blast of energy, and then a third. Chaos was hurled against the wall. - I can do this all day, Dad, but I’m not sure you can. I have a secret, Dad. I know how to kill you. The gem told me. Chaos wanted to speak, but stayed quiet. - Very well. I take that silence to be my answer. I make the decisions now. Here, let me help you up. Vengeance extended his hand to Chaos, but stopped and pulled it away. - On second thought... lick my hoof. - What? - You heard me!!! Lick... my... HOOF!!!! An unseen force grabbed Chaos, picked him up, and pitched him down on his knees. Chaos attempted to fight it, but the strength of the force was stronger then even he, and it began pushing him down closer and closer to Vengeance ‘s hooves. - Worship me, Dad!! Worship your new King!! The force pressed down even harder on Chaos while he tried to fight back. Never in his life had he kneeled before someone, and he wasn’t going to start with his own son. With all of the mental and physical strength he could muster, Chaos threw himself onto his feet, twisted toward his son, and in one instantaneous movement, ploughed his entire arm deep within his chest. Taken totally by surprise, and assuming his metal casing would protect him, Vengeance just gaped with wide eyes and open mouth. - No son of mine will ever speak to me that way again!!! The noise that Vengeance emitted was ungodly, forcing Destruction to cover his ears. With the same rapid movement, Chaos pulled his hand out of his sons chest, clutching pieces of the gem and pulling tentacles trailing behind. Once the tentacles hit the night air, they slunk back into the gem making it whole once again. Vengeance looked at his father with shock and sorrow. As he tried to speak, blood and foam began to bubble up out of his mouth and run down his face. Vengeance started to shake wildly as every part of his body began to pulsate, bubble, and hastily begin to fall apart. Flesh dropped off as his whole body began to liquefy. Falling to his knees, he struggled to reach out for his father, but Chaos simply kicked him away. In mere moments, Vengeance was nothing more then a large mess on the floor. Chaos turned to Destruction. - Do it!!! - What? - Remove my heart now!! - I don’t... - Do it!!!!!!!! Destruction didn’t have to be told twice. Walking up to Chaos, he pulled his arm back and then sunk it into his chest. He was shocked how easy it was, and found himself silently wishing it killed Chaos. Everything seemed to be moving quickly out of control. Through gritted teeth, Chaos barked another command. - Do it!! Destruction enfolded his hand around Chaos’ beating heart, yanked, feeling the veins give way, and slowly removed his arm with the prize in his hand. Blood began to drip from the corners of Chaos’ mouth. With a shaking hand and sheer determination, he lifted the gem to the gaping hole and forcefully thrust it in. He waited for what seemed like eternity until he began to feel the gem beating in his chest like his own heart once did. His flesh filled back in, and Chaos was whole once again. Silence filled the room as Chaos took a step and then another, trying to remain on his feet. Every aspect that had become a part of him when he created Chaos swiftly began to revert to the original form Declan had possessed for most of his life. Chaos was just a memory, a bookmark in his quest for power. In a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. - I demand you give to me what you were hinting at with my son. I know the power that lies within you and I want it all. Only I can weald such power! Give it to me!!! Listening to his demands, an indescribable feeling began to fill his entire body, his entire being, and his mind. Destruction watched as Declan began to shudder and then tremble, a smile emerging on his face. - Yes!!!!! I can feel it flooding my entire body. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s mind altering!! I’m opening my brain to it! Fuck!!!! Yes!!! I can now see so much!!!! I can see the whole universe!! Not just our universe, but every universe! The gem began to beat faster in his chest and commenced glowing so bright that it could be seen from within his chest. - I have been given the key to everything!!! I am being handed the entire universe!! Every cell... every atom, every piece of matter in this and the billion other universes on this and every plane is mine!!! In a blink of an eye I can be anywhere... and everywhere!!! It’s more then I expected!!! It’s not simply power, it’s all power!! Declan grabbed his head with his hands and started to scream. - All of the knowledge of this universe... It’s forcing its way into my brain!!! All of the knowledge of every universe is flooding me!!! It’s... almost... too... much... to.., handle!!! Lightening shot down from the sky, through the ceiling, and began to strike the ground around Declan. Destruction could hardly see him behind the blinding rain of lightning bolts. With his head still bowed to the ground, Declan lifted his arms up into the air as if welcoming the energy into its new host. On command, thousands of bolts of lightning began to shower down into his body. As he was hit over and over again, Declan proceeded to laugh. With one quick movement that was nearly impossible to see, Declan stood and caught a bolt as it hurled down from the sky. Holding it before him, he looked deeply into it. - Inside of this human body I now hold the secrets of everything, everything!!!!! I know where the universe stops and where it ends. I know why we are here, and what started it all. I look through the curtain to see the creator... and I see me!! ME!!! All of my life, this puny creature I was wanted to know everything... and now I am everything!!!! I am becoming the beginning and the end! I am becoming God!!! Holding the lightening bolt up high, he threw it into the wall where it burst into flames. Declan screamed out again, holding his head. Destruction moved toward him but Declan held up his hand, chucking him backward into the wall. - Even Asarualimnunna didn’t know what would happen if I claimed the gem as my own. It never knew what it really was. He only knew to safeguard it. Now I am it and it is me. We will merge, and nothing will ever stop me again!!! Destruction tried to cover his ears as Declan spoke. His voice was so loud now, so deep, and so powerful. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. His voice was in Destruction, around him, and becoming a part of every single molecule. - It’s taking every ounce of my will to stop myself from breaking apart into millions of atoms!! I was never meant to rise again, yet here I am being reborn!!! No human should be able to handle this without going insane!!! No!!!!! He’s trying to take me over... forcing me to loose myself. I forbid this, do you hear me??!! We must merge!! We must become one!!! An energy surrounded Declan as he fought for dominance. - Look at me!! I will becoming God!! I demand it be so!!! Attempting to hold onto reality, Declan began to pace around the room. He was talking so fast that Destruction found it nearly impossible to keep up. All he wanted to do now was run away. If Chaos was really becoming God… the world was in trouble. - Asarualimnunna assumed the gem would be safe within my son but Asarualimnunna underestimated his rage and newborn desire for power. That yearning weakened the walls of the gem letting out bursts of supremacy. When I saw what he became... was still becoming... what dominance he held... I knew it was supposed to be mine.... It was my destiny!!! So I took it.., Declan screamed out again in anguish as he fell onto his hands and knees. Destruction felt like he was watching a time-lapse movie as every stitch of clothing Chaos/Declan had once been wearing rapidly began to age, pull apart, fall from his body, and disintegrate. Crouching naked on the floor, was the average body Declan had always possessed. Lifting his salt and pepper haired head to look at Destruction, his eyes glowed a powerful white. Laughing hysterically again, Declan began to speak, but as he did, every language since the beginning of time piled on top of each other came out. Stopping, Declan grabbed his head once more, and in time started to speak again. - So hard to focus when one sees everything... when one experiences everything... I was here when time began... I’ve always been here!! Always expanding... always infinite. You question if you’re alone in this universe... you are... we are... but there are an infinite amount of planes and an infinite amount of universes with an infinite amount of lives and now I am all of them!!!! Not wanting to be alone, I... no!!! Not I!! We!!! We created more of me... The Titans. We ruled over every realm, every plane. My son... Declan laughed. - Like my own... desired supremacy all for himself. He found a fragment of existence where We had never been, and he fashioned a prison so strong that no one could escape it. The key was his own existence. The energy needed to fashion this prison ripped holes in many of the planes letting creatures easily pass from one to the other. In your own world... near its beginning... creatures like the Gorgon and the Kraken, and the Minotaur, and you, moved from their planes to this... hundreds of stories are told of them and each one true. My son used this prison to merge the Titans back into one and hold me there. He then took this prison, this gem, and he swallowed it. There in his stomach I lay. And he ruled over this realm and many others till soon his worshipers began to forget about him and he began to fade. In his last moments, he fashioned a creature to surround the gem... one of instinct that would never know what it held... Asarualimnunna... and sent it hurling through the planes of existence. Yearning to return home, it threw itself back through space and time...landing here... before it was originally created… where it fed. All it wanted was to feed... but it learned, and the unconscious desired more. Eventually separated from its heart, Asarualimnunna was pitched into its own prison, with only the longing to feed and keep the crystal safe... a jail warden. Asarualimnunna had to wait for the right moment, and began to break free again using the strongest of energy sources, your rage induced orgasms, to rip open the planes... bringing him closer to what he considers his home to feed. But I no longer need a jail warden!!!! Declan called forth Asarualimnunna and he appeared in his true form. Snarling and snapping, the demon attempted to escape, but it was imprisoned in Declan’s will. Extending his hand, Declan seized the creature and held it up to look at it. The demon started to screech as Declan willed every atom of Asarualimnunna to break apart. Breathing in, he ingested then all. - With no guard, the prison was weakened, and my own son began to find kinks in the armour. I sensed that if left to his own devices, the power within him would only continue to develop. It is my destiny to rule, to be worshipped, to have supreme knowledge and power at my fingertips!!!! Declan began to shudder again, his naked body shifting and pulsating. He cracked the knuckles in his right hand and watched it grow stronger. The fat around his belly disappeared, and years of age was removed from his face. - In all of my years wanting everything, I will now possess it all. Do you hear me!!! I made the decision to rip my own heart out!! I consumed the gem!! I willed the prison to be open!!! Now we will merge!! I demand that I become the universe! Every universe! I will not Be the false god Asarualimnunna made me. I will be THE God!!!! As he spoke, Declan began to get bigger. His muscles swelled larger with new vitality. - My strength, though infinite is limited. I need worshipers at my feet!! Looking at Destruction, Declan called to him. - Come and worship at my feet!! Under no power that was his own, Destruction slunk toward the man that had once been Chaos. Rising from his crouching position, Declan watched the creature trembling at his feet. - Your fear tastes delicious… Wash my feet… with your tongue. Under duress and under no will of his own, Destruction began to lick clean every inch of Chaos’ feet. As he licked, he could tell that they were starting to get slightly larger, longer, and thicker. Declan’s voice was even deeper as he spoke again. - Yes!!! I can feel my power growing stronger!! I have learned so much from each of you... what symbolizes power and influences fear and worship. Fuck!!!! There are no words you would understand to tell you how feel!! Don’t stop licking!! Destruction felt his own tongue growing longer and thicker in his mouth. Declan was compelling this to materialize so that he could now lick more surface areas of his growing feet. - Do you worship me, Destruction? - Yes. - Will you give me everything I desire? Think before you answer - Yes! - That’s all I needed to hear. Destruction began to be elevated off of the floor by invisible hands. - My first creation, you have served me well. Before Destruction could even scream, Declan separated all of his atoms and breathed him in. With a grin on his face, Declan could feel Destruction’s life force filling him up. His muscles swelled larger on his entire body as all that had been Destruction became his. The man grew taller and taller, reviling in the power he possessed. Flexing his biceps, they plumped up thicker and denser, his traps elongated and filled with pound after pound of muscle. His legs, once short and weak became columns of muscles, forcing him to have a wider stance. His midsection, freed of fat, began to bulk up with cobblestones of muscle, his skin wrapped tightly around each one, the crevices between each, deep. All of the matter from Destructions body forced Declan taller and broader, younger and more virile. As Declan welcomed the changes his human body was going through, he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his thoughts straight, not knowing what was happening in the past, present, or future; on this plane or the million others. All he knew was he had to hold on to his sanity until the merging was complete. His mind reached out and he saw creation and destruction at the same time. The part of Declan that was still human couldn’t believe that his dearest wishes were coming true one hundred fold. Once he wished to become a God among men, then he was gifted the image and powers of a God, but even that wasn’t enough. Now He was merging with and becoming Cronus, the first God... father to Zeus... ruler of everything!!!! Needing more matter to further fortify his body, Declan reached out and emancipated every atom in the house that surrounded him. Breathing in, in mere minutes, he ingested the matter of the entire building, furnishings, and plant life that surrounded it. When complete, he stood in the center of an immense crater in the ground. The matter from the combination of Destruction as well as the building forced the merging of human and God to quicken. Cronus fought for complete control over this body, but Declan wouldn’t surrender what was his. Through his insane will power, he was forcing Cronus to become one with him. A battle took place within Declan as he proceeded to grow taller and more muscular. On several planes of existence the two fought for supremacy, yet Declan’s craving for power was overwhelming, even to Cronus himself. Not admitting defeat but choosing what was perhaps the best option, God and human began to merge. - Yes!!!!! This world... every world is mine!!!! Suns, stars, black holes, and worlds exploded in thousands of universes across thousands of realms, the matter being dissolved and fed into the emerging God. The power of eternity rained down on Declan as he began to change. His hair grew longer and thicker, flowing down past his shoulders, and converting to an intense white colour. Hair began to sprout on both his chest and face, swiftly filling in and becoming extremely dense. His facial hair grew into a formidable beard, and both it and his chest hair matched the white locks on his head. As his beard grew longer, his skin grew younger and firmer until it was impossible to judge his age; he could be 20 or 80 for he was eternal... he was all time. All Declan could do was grin and experience all that was happening to him. Comprehending that he was now God was nearly too impossible even for him!! Supremacy was all he thought!! I now have supremacy over everything!!! Declan continued to grow taller and more muscular as he and Cronus merged. Every organ in his body ceased to exist as there was no longer any need for them. Like a sun that sat in the middle of the universe that was growing within his body was the gem. Swirling inside his body were other realms, planets and suns. Declan was the universe made flesh. The pecs that developed on his chest pumped up thicker and more dense. The hair that covered them was copious, but nothing could completely hide the musculature that existed on his body. His already wide lats quadrupled in size as his waist tightened, creating the greatest of V shapes. His traps thickened as his shoulders grew wider. The arms connected to this immense core bulged out even further with muscle as it traveling down his arms to his forearms and then to his hands. - I must hold on!!! I must not be defeated!! I must complete the merge!!! As his left hand grew more and more muscular, Declan’s right hand began to tranform dramatically. All of the fingers were merging until his arm resembled one enormous column of muscle. The area where his hand once was commenced turning silver as Declan realized it was now entirely made of indestructible metal. Touching it with his left hand, he discovered it was solid metal and had absolutely no feeling. Not contemplating what Cronus was causing, he watched as the right half of the extremity began to grow longer, stretching out away from his body. It curved slightly as Declan grasped that his right hand was now a gigantic sickle. Swinging it through the air, Declan embraced the weapon that was now a part of his body. It had been what Cronus had forged the universe with and maintained control, and now it would be a part of them permanently. Declan now stood nearly 14 feet tall and several tons of ripped, bulging muscles. As the wind tore past is naked body, he tried to comprehend what he was. Every sense was heightened a thousand fold. His physical eyes could see for miles and his inner eyes could see for eternity. He smelt every smell that ever had been, and heard every thought. Declan could only grin widely as he embraced all that he was becoming as they merged more and more. On one item, both Cronus and Declan were in total agreement: Declan knew they needed more size and Chronus believed they could never be big enough. Reaching out to more and more universes, to more and more realms, they sacrificed them all for matter. Declan rose taller and taller as hundreds of pounds of muscle was healed upon his body every second. - I won’t stop growing!!! I never have to stop!! Let me ingest more suns, more worlds to make me go on forever this way!! FUCK!!!! What am I becoming??!!! Declan’s penis, already of considerable size for a human was an embarrassment for Cronus. With one simple thought, it began to sprout as mighty as his own arm. Veins the thickness of trees wove around his cock, feeding it, not with blood, but with pure matter from ten thousand suns. Thicker and longer it rose till the gigantic head could be seen nearing his pecs. His testicles also grew immense as they filled with ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods. Declan tried to concentrate on the plane he physically was existing on as worlds being created and then destroyed passed before his eyes. The voice of Cronus rang out in his head: - You have sampled only an inkling of what I possess. Turn back now and I’ll let you live. - Give me it all!!! We will merge!!! - SO BE IT!!!! Declan screamed as he was given everything he desired. He yearned for power… and discovered he was power. Anything he desired was at his command. With a mere movement of his pinky, entire worlds would stop turning. He would reign supreme forever for he was eternal…immortal. He could punish for no reason, or rain wealth down on the needy. He was life… he was death. He was destruction. He was growth. He began and ended everything. He was God. Declan and Cronus ceased to exist as two entities any longer but together as one mighty force. This is how it always was and always would be. When they spoke, they spoke in unison but in a chorus of two voices; both deep and soul consuming. A mere thought might haunt Cronus as they remembered that at one time a piece of them had been human, but that no longer mattered. Cronus was everything. Standing thirty feel tall and hundreds of tons of muscle, Cronus took in their surroundings. The world had changed since their imprisonment, and not for the better. Now that they had returned, the world should return to how it once was. With this desire, hundreds of humans transformed into Gorgons, ,Harpies and Sirens, Cyclops’s and Minotaur’s, Chimaera’s and Dragons, and Demons. The world of myth of… chaos… would once again reign. Humans flocked outside to see them in all of their glory. Standing proudly in their nakedness, they began to walk, their powerful footsteps echoing for hundred of miles around. As they made their way, they would walk right through buildings leaving them intact. They would come to them out of respect, not out of fear… yet. Admiring this world, they grew larger, soon standing over 50 feet tall, then 60 feet tall, then 70. Their musculature was beyond measurement as there had never been any creature so immense. Without opening their mouth they spoke to everyone at once. - We have returned. We are Cronus and We will worshiped. You will build temples to Us, make sacrifices to Us, and honor Us. In return, We will allow you to live. Anger Us, and We will rain fire down destroying you all. Cronus’ body burst into flames, every inch of them living fire. Their eyes were fire, their hair and beard were fire, their cock was fire. - We have returned and we will reign supreme!! These words rocked Jacob as he was running back to the bath house to get Eros, and hoped he wasn't too late. These words woke Zeus from his slumber. These words echoed through every world on every plane through eternity. The sovereignty of Cronus had begun.

The test Subject Yes, Sir, I do. Mmmmmmm. Yes! I can't believe this. How it feels. No, Sir, nothing against that at all. I'm excited. Never thought I would grow bigger. Never thought something like this existed. Experimental? yaya. Don't matter. You can't believe how ... Oh! Look at these abs, Sir! No fat at all. Just these Hard. Big. Insanely ripped. Abs. And the feeling of this Apollo's belt! I'm ... Oh! You are making me ... Oh! And my quads! Never thought I could grow quads like these! I'm, like, standing on elephant legs, like some sort of Strongman guy, or ... Uh! Yes! And these! Like when I cup my pecs, do you, Sir? Cupping my big, full, strong, bronzed pecs like this? Yeah, I agree, the sun tan cause my growth to look ... To look ... To ... Uh! Yes! Yes, Sir! More! Yes! More! Can't believe it! So much. The frequency. My mind. My body. The frequency. So much. So good. Yeah, it freaked me out initially, but now ... Now, I love how it feels. I can't get enough of it. I lap all of it up. My body does. My body assimilate those frequencies. Absorb them. Suck it up. Yeah, I thought you would. But hey, look at me, Sir! Look at what you are turning me into. The perfect symmetry. The perfect shape. The perfect ... Uh! Uhmmm! Uh! Yes! I love the feeling how my lats force my arms outwards, my triceps rubbing my back like that. Feel so wide now. Uh! yes! Even wider! My traps too. So wide now! Wider! I don't know, Sir. I never used that word about myself. No, I don't know if anyone else used to call me a jock, but now! Uh! Uh! Yeah! Look at this jock you are creating! Say what? If you like it, I can be your stupid jockboy. Would you like that, Sir? NO! What's that? I didn't mean it literally! I ... Wait? What's happening? Uh! So good! So ... SO ... Ugh! What's happening? Yes, Sir! So good. I'm your dumb jockboy. Feel stupid now. Yeah: Only think about workouts and my own hot body now. And sex. Yeah, I enjoy growing for you, Sir. Make me buff, Sir. Make me big. Make me HUGE, Sir. Uh! Uh! UH! What the hell? FUCK! No? What's happening? SIR! It is too much! I can't take anymore! Don't you hear me? TOO MUCH! IT'S ... (roaring) (roaring becoming deeper) (a moaning roar in a deep voice) Uhnnnn! Uhnnnnn! Yeah! These levels ... Couldn't have dreamed ... THESE LEVELS! Uhnnnnn! Yeah! What, Sir? No, Sir, I can take it. Reached a new level now, Sir. Couldn't of dreamed about it ... Impossible level ... Look at these biceps! Yeah, you are right, Sir: Basket balls, and they are still growing. Do you see that? They are still growing. Like the rest of me. Like my pecs. Wow. My hands ... My hands and feet are growing, too! Watch me cup these pecs. You liked that, didn't you? The oil you soaked me in beforehand, it wasn't just for science stuff, was it? Yeah, but not just because of science something, was it? I thought so, but look how it make me look now: The contrasts. This SHEER POWER. This ... This ... manhood. Speaking of it: Yeah. That, too. Do you like when I cup my balls and tool like this? You little pervert! You little insignificant shit! Don't dare to undergo The Process yourself, but love to ogle me when I ... Uh. UH! UH FUCK! What's happening? I can't believe ... can't ... not possible! Not more! What are you doing? No! Not more! I can't take anymore! I ... (a moaning roar in a deep voice) So intense! The power! So ... Look at this Alpha! Look at this Alpha, who soon will step out of your machine and dominate you, you little cunt, or should I say wanker? Yeah, look at you! Worship this Alpha! Watch me flex these! Uh! So good! The veins! And watch me flex these! More ... more veins. YES! I'm covered by VEINS! The hugest guys are never this ripped. The most ripped bros are never this huge. But look at me: Your bronze Alpha is HUGE and RIPPED. Watch me flex! Didn't see my back, before, did you? Watch this, you worthless tosser. Yeah, watch this! Why are you touching the controls instead of yourself, tosser? Do you really believe, that you could grow me bigger than this? To grow me bigger than ... UH! AHHH! AAAAARRRRRGH! Yeah! Alpha Monster Jock is the biggest there is! Alpha Monster Jock so strong now! Look at Alpha Monster Jock flex! Alpha Monster Jock soon make Sir choke on Alpha Monster Jock cock, but first Alpha Jock will reach his full size. Alpha Jock still growing! YES! Grow Alpha Jock! Alpha Jock live for lifting. Lift. Eat. Sleep. And sex. Alpha Jock HUGE! Grow Alpha Jock! YES! Bigger! More! Make Alpha Jock humungous! Mountain of BRAWN! The power! The Power streaming into Alpha Jock! Becoming one with Alpha Jock! Alpha Jock's muscular power. Power levels good. Alpha Jock feel good. So wide. Mountain of STEEL BRAWN! Mountain of POWER BRAWN! MORE! NEVER TOO MUCH! NEVER TOO MUCH! Alpha Jock ... HARD FLEXING PURE RAW UNTAMED ULTRA-MASCULINE POWER!!!!!!

Got a growth focused short story for you all. It was inspired by some conversation with Vertical. I hope you enjoy! Synopsis: Junichi doesn't like his boss, Oswin, and how he subtly intimidates the smaller employee or manipulates Junichi to work longer hours. Unbeknownst to Junichi, there are bigger changes stored in his future. ------------------------------------------------------------ THE OFFICE KING “Junichi, Sam’s got the flu, so we need you to pick up where he left off.” “I’m sorry, sir?” I spun around in my chair, looking up to find my boss Oswin standing over me with manila folders in his hands. With all the papers in them, the stack had to be one and a half inches thick. He held them out in front of my face. “Organize the info and set up a slide show. Have it ready by tomorrow, got it?” “Uhh…” I wanted to say no, that my day was almost over and that I was all set to go home. But the way his dark eyes bore into mine, the way he held his body over me, I felt a bit of fear, and I just couldn’t say no. My hand gingerly reached up and grabbed the folders. “S-sure.” “Good. Get to work.” After he walked away, I stared at the ball and chain in my hands. I thought about the extra hours I had to put in again. What was it, four times in the last three weeks? And it seemed like Oswin always chose me for extra assignments, like a student using the same pen for tests. A hand to my shoulder interrupted my thoughts. “Ready to get out of here?” I looked up to find Soroush, one of my close friends here, staring at me eagerly, his briefcase slung over his shoulder. “According to the Waze,” he said. “We should get to the theater right when the trailers start.” “Oh, Soroush, well…” I hated disappointing my friends, so it was difficult to tell him about the change in plans. “Os asked me to stay late tonight.” Soroush’s face fell. “Don’t tell me you said ‘yes’, J. C’mon, he already made you stay late on Monday.” I threw my hands up to show that I was powerless in this situation. “I couldn’t say no. Like he practically forced the project on me.” My excuse didn’t matter. The disappointment on Soroush’s face was clear as day. “I can’t go the theater by myself.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll head home, then.” His shoulders slumped, almost causing his briefcase to slip off. As he turned to head out, he said, “You know, you really gotta learn to stand up to him. He’s going to keep treating you the same way. Anyway, hope you don’t stay up too late.” I tried to apologize. “I’ll buy the first round next time!” Soroush merely raised his hand before falling out of sight. With a sigh, I turned back to my desk.Separating the folders, I began organizing the information to get an idea of what the presentation would involve. From the labels I could tell it involved the drug we were developing: Stoses. One folder involved production costs, another had information on ingredients, a third mentioned trial results, and there were a few more folders discussing other aspects of the drug. I found a flash drive tucked in with some pages. Plugging it in, I found even more data, though many of the files were digitized versions of the physical documents. After some browsing I found one file called “Investor Presentation.” That had to be what Sam was working on. I double clicked the icon. “What? What the fuck? Is this it?” The presentation only had six slides. Only six, including the title slide. I couldn’t believe this was possible. Did Sam really have the flu, or did he fake a sickness to cover up his procrastination? I checked the other files in the folder and found a document outlining the structure of the presentation. At least Sam did something useful. Following the outline, I ordered the digital and the paper folders so I could read and summarize the appropriate information. After about an hour, my back muscles felt tight, since I hadn’t taken a break in a while. So, I stood up and headed for the restroom. Empty chairs and empty cubicles greeted me, a sight not so uncommon anymore. Still, the faint noises of conversation and keyboard clacking echoed in my head, and I hurried towards my destination. I trundled down the hall, exhaustion nipping at my ankles. Washing my face would feel so good right now. But as I pushed open the restroom door, it got caught against something behind it. “Oh, let me get that,” a meager voice said. I heard some rumbling and squeaking and the door opened fully, revealing a short elder lady next to a cleaning cart. “Mr. Kuroda! I’m sorry, I thought the building was empty.” “That’s-that’s alright, Marianna.” I backed up so she could push her cart out. “They had me staying late again. I’ll be quick! It’s just me here,” I said as I stepped inside the restroom. The door shut with an echoing bang. “It’s just me.” The cold water stung my face, but the shock helped to refresh my mind. I splashed myself a few more times then stayed hunched over the sink, beads of water streaming off my chin and nose. Then I looked up and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I felt some relief that my coworkers were out of the office. They wouldn’t see my droopy eyes, my disheveled hair, or the ugly stubble that would never grow into a full beard. Stepping back, I got a full view of my frame. Worm. Slim. Noodle. I had heard these nicknames and more because I’d always been skinny. I ran daily, but genes also helped keep the excess weight off. Maybe being a string bean is what attracted Oswin to target me for extra tasks and late nights. I was like a stick to his six foot, muscular physique. Maybe he thought his physical presence could intimidate me into doing the work. “Well, I guess it works,” I said, mumbling. I certainly hadn’t been able to say no to him every time Oswin had asked. I grabbed some paper towels and dried off my face. “Let’s just get it done,” I said to my reflection, before crumbling the towels and tossing them into the trash. “Welcome back, Junichi! Took a scenic view of the floor?” Oswin was waiting for me when I got back to my cubicle. With his back against one of the walls, he folded his arms across his chest. I knew it was an act when I saw it. He wanted to appear bigger and wider, subtly intimidating me with his size. Even the pat on my shoulder as I sat down emphasized the strength in his arm and the size of his hand. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom.” “I figured, I’m just joking,” said Oswin. “How’re things with the presentation?” The big man leaned against my desk, causing the wood to groan. “Stilling getting into it,” I said. Then I added, “There’s a lot here.” The subtext of my statement didn’t make it far through his thick skull. “You’ll do great. You’re one of my best workers. Here…” He slid a bottle of water I didn’t notice sitting on my desk and sat it next to my computer mouse. “Always good to stay hydrated, am I right?” Another hard pat, then creaks and groans as Oswin stood up back on his feet. “Keep it up, Junichi.” I waited until Oswin walked halfway to his office before I flipped him the bird. “Fucking asshole,” I said under my breath. I hated that he made me stay late for this stupid presentation. I hated that he had to check up on me, like a school kid doing his homework. I hated the way he had to show up everyone in the office. I hated his stupid grin. I hated-I hated-I hated. I inhaled deeply then exhaled. Then I did it again. And again. I didn’t have time to internally rage against my boss. I just needed to finish this presentation, go home, and sleep. Maybe I could just call out tomorrow. As I reached for the computer mouse, my hand bumped against something. It was the water bottle Oswin had left for me. Well, at least that was a nice gesture, even though we do have a water station just down the aisle. I unscrewed the top, finding the cap seal already broken. He didn’t even have the decency to find me a new bottle? Whatever, at this point I didn’t really care. I took a swig and got to work. The next half hour was rough. My tired mind couldn’t process the data and the numbers. The letters would mix and blur out after I’d gone halfway down a page. Sometimes I’d have to go over the same paragraphs multiple times just to confirm what I had read. Just getting one slide written seemed like a monumental task. At one point I had to take a break. I finished up the bottle of water and stood up to get some more. The walking felt good. Stretching my legs and getting my heart pumping a little more eased my head a bit. In fact, I felt much better once I got back in my seat. My fatigue seemed to dissipate and my mind felt clearer. I could process all the data much quicker, and my fingers, itching to type, filled slide after slide. I had no idea where this new energy and focus came from. Maybe Oswin was right about needing to hydrate. “Making good progress?” I nearly jumped in my chair. I hadn’t even heard Oswin coming by my cubicle. My heart raced in my chest by the sudden surprise. “I, I...yeah,” I said dumbly. Why did he come back so soon? I glanced at the time and nearly cursed. More than an hour had passed since I had seen him. I couldn’t believe it. Meanwhile, Oswin briefly checked my current slide. “I’m glad to hear that.” A hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m on my way home. You’ll get that finished by ten, right?” “Uh, um, y...yes, sir!” I said with shaky breath. For some reason, the air felt thinner, and I couldn’t draw as much as oxygen. Oswin didn’t seem to notice, though. “Attaboy. Finish up and get some sleep.” When he left, I turned back to the computer intending to work on the presentation. But my heart was still beating at a mile a minute. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t think I was experiencing a heart attack. Instead, with my thumping heart, sudden alertness, and hyperfocus, I was reminded of times when I drank large amounts coffee too quickly and how the caffeine affected my body afterwards. Except I didn’t have any coffee since six in the morning. I only drank… I froze as I stared at the small bottle of water in front of me. There’s no way. I picked the bottle up, holding it close as I peered at the liquid inside. Obviously it wasn’t coffee, but could Oswin have added something to the water? Then I remembered a product our company made years ago. A tasteless liquid supplement to add vitamins and caffeine to juices, smoothies, or any kind of drink. That asshole drugged me! My fingers rapidly tapped against my desk. I could imagine the big stupid smile Oswin would be wearing right now. I stood up and threw the bottle as hard as I could towards his office. The bottle didn’t even reach half the distance. As the bottle bounced and rolled harmlessly down the aisle, I took a moment to recollect myself. Maybe it was an accident. He could have used the supplement for himself and I got a little bit of it when he filled the bottle. That thought made me gag. Did I really drink from the same bottle Oswin used? Also, I couldn’t be sure that I had actually been drugged. Maybe I was experiencing a second wind. Or something. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.” I was wide awake now with an incomplete presentation. Time continued to tick with each moment I debated with myself. Finally, I said, “screw it,” and continued working on the presentation. Maybe Oswin drugged me. Maybe it’s in my head. But certainly he would fire me if I didn’t come through by ten AM. So in the silent office, I kept on working on this damn project. “Hey, you alright? Hey!” I jolted awake. “What? What’s going on?” It took a second for me to calm down and to take in my surroundings. Familiar faces stared at me with unease as I looked around wildly. Around their shoulders they carried purses or messenger bags, which they set down as they each got to their cubicle. Cubicle. I was also in a cubicle. My cubicle. With my computer still humming and papers still covering my desk. I turned to face the one who roused me and saw it was Soroush. “Did you sleep here?” he asked. My eyes felt dry, so I blinked a few times.”I...I guess so.” My computer screen displayed only black. I tapped on the mouse and my presentation came back on-screen. I briefly scrolled through the project, each slide complete and full of information. Soroush leaned forward to get a better look. “Wow, you actually finished it?” “Yeah…” And then apparently passed out afterward, I realized. “What time is it?” My vision was still a bit blurry so I didn’t bother looking at my computer for that info. “Oh, it’s uh...9:30. Speaking of, bossman said to make sure you were ready with the presentation in time. Want some tea or coffee? He said you’d probably need an energy boost.” I couldn’t stand to think about caffeine at this moment, especially after the rush I had last night and the subsequent crash that followed. But grogginess still swam in my head. “Sure, I’ll take a tea. Maybe one with just a little bit of caffeine.” “You got it. I’ll have it waiting in the room for you,” said Soroush as he walked off towards the drink station. I nodded absentmindedly as I got to work transferring the project file onto a flash drive. As I entered the conference room, I saw Oswin waiting on the far wall, both hands in his pockets. “Good morning, Junichi! How’re we looking?” “Good morning, sir.” I held the flash drive up. “I've got the presentation here.” “Perfect, get that set up. The investors will be here soon.” Oswin walked over and sat on a large leather chair at the end of the long conference table in the middle of the room. “You can sit over there when you’re ready. I’ll have you assist with some of presentation.” He pointed over to a smaller, simpler chair, one with a plastic frame and simple mesh on the back rest. In front of the seat rested a cup, steam rising off the top. That must have been the tea Soroush said he’d make for me. I frowned. I thought I’d be done with this project after I finished the presentation. Heck, I even believed Oswin would send me home early. Although I guess I’d be going home late, since I never went home at all. But I supposed he had to extend my misery just in case something didn’t go right with the presentation. I’d probably be the fall guy if Oswin screwed up somehow. “Yes, sir,” I said as I handed him a small stack of papers. They were printouts of the slideshow so that Oswin knew what would be in the presentation. I condensed the pages so that six slides appeared on each sheet of paper. He gave me a nod of appreciation as he took them. While Oswin went over each slide, I sat myself at the computer by the corner of the room. I plugged in my flash drive and opened up the project file. Then I turned on the projector and made sure the wireless clicker would advance each slide appropriately. “Very good, Junichi,” said Oswin as he finished reading the slides. “I knew you’d do a good job.” I forced a smile, but before I could reply Carly, Oswin’s secretary, popped her head in. “Sir, the investors are here now.” “Excellent. Send them in.” Oswin stood up and adjusted his tie. Once he was satisfied with his looks, he came towards me with the packet in tow. “Junichi,” he said expectantly. “Ready, sir.” He nodded and took the clicker from me. He gave me a pat on the back as I headed over to my assigned seat. Oswin set down the printouts by the computer and slipped his hands and the clicker into his pockets. He assumed the same pose as when I first entered the room. Soon, middle-aged men in suits came in through the door. Oswin greeted each guest and directed everyone to a chair. I debated whether to stand up and shake everyone’s hands but decided against it. My fatigue and disheveled appearance would likely leave a poor impression. I did notice some glances towards my direction. I merely just sipped my tea. Oswin waited until all the men took their seats. “As you know, gentlemen, we have been working on a drug to stimulate muscle growth. It’s taken some time, and quite a lot of resources, but thanks to your generous support we’ve finally made some significant progress…” I sat back in his chair as Oswin expertly delivered the presentation about the drug. If I hadn’t made the whole thing, I would have believed Oswin prepared the presentation by himself. He even added extra data and facts I didn’t include. I had severely underestimated my boss. Some followed the presentation with keen eyes. They were clearly impressed as they took in all the information. Some nodded with fascination, while others eagerly whispered to their adjacent partners. They saw potential with this revolutionary drug. And the higher the potential, the more money in their pockets. “And now, if I can call Junichi up here,” said Oswin, after going through the final slide. I lifted my head, turning first towards Oswin, then at the other men in the room. I felt like the kid who got caught dozing in the middle of class. “Come on up, J.” Oswin waved me over to the end of the room. Slowly, I pushed back my chair. My half-rested brain could hardly understand what my boss would want. Sweat started to form on my neck and brow. Was he going to give me credit for making the presentation? That didn’t really seem necessary. These were investors, not coworkers or higher ups. Maybe I had to present more information, data I didn’t include initially that Oswin wanted to mention. But that thought crumbled into pieces when Oswin said, “Now, gentlemen, a demonstration.” What demonstration? Whispers and hushed voices flooded the room. The investors were like an audience during a musical performance when the song suddenly cuts out. Something unexpected happened but it made them curious and excited. A tight knot pinched my gut and the air seemed heavy. Did I forget to include a video or pictures? I didn’t see anything with the files I received. The sudden shift in tone in the room didn’t faze Oswin. “There are a lot of numbers, graphs, and tables here and I can see some of you are impressed. But some of you seem skeptical, incredulous, worried. That’s why I think you need to see it with your own eyes.” Two heavy hands clamped onto my shoulders. “That’s where Junichi comes in.” “W-what? Me?” I tried to step away, but Oswin kept a good grip on me. “Junichi here has taken the drug and will demonstrate the limit-breaking capabilities of Stoses firsthand.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I had taken the drug? When did this...wait. My eyes went back to my seat, where on the table a nearly empty cup of tea sat. I turned towards Oswin and his smug grin told me enough. So he did drug me last night. And he did it again right now. The knot in my gut tightened further, leading me to emit a pained grunt and fall to one knee. My shirt, moist from sweat, clung tight to my back as I hunched over. My muscles spasmed, with each tremor matching the violent thumping in my chest. I slowly lost focus in my vision as pain seared down my body, but I could hear the other men in the room talking fervently amongst themselves. Some called for a doctor while others berated Oswin for his impulsive actions. “Gentlemen, please, do not worry, everything is going as planned.” Oswin’s calm, controlled voice did actually settle down some of the investors, their voices quieting down. Not me. My body wanted to squeeze into itself. The pain was unbearable, enough to make me squeeze my eyes shut. But after taking several deep breaths, the sharp aches started to dull. My senses slowly came back to me as relief washed over me. There was a stillness while I slowly got back on both feet. “Gaah!” Out of nowhere, buzzing energy suddenly bombarded my body. I thought I got hit by electricity, forcing my muscles to twitch and tense. My body felt like a battery charging with power. Only the energy kept filling and filling until every cell felt ready to burst. Until finally… Shrip! I watched with wide eyes as the front of my left shoe tore apart, my toes poking through the hole. Then with a spasm, my foot stretched forward and widened, tearing more of my shoe apart. Soon, half my black sock-covered foot stood exposed to the others in the room. Many stared at the size difference between my foot and now the comically undersized shoe that once contained it. I still couldn’t believe what I saw. My foot had grown out of its shoe. It freaking grew! “What’s happening to me?” I said aloud. Oswin slipped his hands into his pockets. “You should know. You made the presentation.” His voice, and his response, irritated me so much that I wanted to punch him right there, but a constricting pain around my legs took my attention. Looking down, I gaped at how tight my left pant leg became. The cotton was stretched to the limits by thick muscles growing underneath the fabric. Somehow unconvinced that that was really my leg, I put a hand on my thigh. I felt rock hard muscle. Suddenly, I felt my right leg tremble. Not to be outdone, the right side of my lower body had to grow, too. Just like with the left, my right foot burst out of its shoe. Next I saw the calf muscle swelling inside my pant leg like a balloon inflating with air. Then my thighs filled out the upper area. Just seeing this phenomenon was incredible. But the feeling throughout this process was otherworldly, better than any pleasure I felt before this. But pain interrupted my bliss. My growth continued to my waist, where my belt did its best to keep its form. The tightening pressure created much pain so I tried to undo the latch, but I didn’t have enough slack to release the end. So with a grunt I tugged as hard as I could and the buckle snapped, along with my pants button, relieving my waist of the agonizing tension. While I took care of that tight situation, I hadn’t noticed the building warmth in my chest. “Guh!” A spasm pushed my chest forward. Tight outlines formed against my dress shirt. It took me a moment to realize what happened. I actually developed pecs! I brought hands up to admire them. Unflexed, they were like big, meaty pillows. I hardly had time to appreciate my new pecs because the buzzing feeling spread into my arms. I let go of my chest and held my arms in front of me so I could admire the changes. My biceps swelled in their sleeves, pulling the fabric tight like how my legs did with my pants. So I flexed them hard and watched in glee as the seams just tore and a bloated arm uncovered itself. My biceps were as big as my quads were before this whole incident started. I got some gasps and stunned looks when I tore the sleeves completely off my arms, just in time for the energy to spread to my forearms. Muscles and veins bloated to match my biceps. I formed two tight fists, causing my forearms to thicken into large pipes. There was no denying the strength contained in his grip. The growth continued into my hands, fingers popping as they grew longer and wider. I curled and uncurled my fingers, imagining the strength behind just a single digit. I shrugged my shoulders, working the traps that inflated by my neck. I could feel the muscles in my back hardening, forming mountains and ridges. For some reason, an old martial arts movie popped into my head. I couldn’t recall the title, but I remembered a scene where the protagonist smashed a thick piece of wood against his opponent’s back, only for his muscular opponent to shrug it off like nothing. I could just imagine my muscular back could handle harder punishment. Finally, I felt the buzzing energy die down and I had a moment to examine my new body. I was thick. I was ripped! Any trace of the thin, lithe runner disappeared. That guy had been replaced with a heavyweight bodybuilder. My clothes, the parts still intact, clung to my frame like Saran wrap. The feeling was odd, my body pushing the limits of my clothing, yet there was a bit of gratification. The tight fabric pronounced the girth of my muscles. I flexed all my various muscles, and I could see each muscle group tighten and bulge under my command. The chitter chatter and shutter clicking of the investors with their cameras reminded me that I wasn’t alone. Of course, all eyes focused on me as everyone marvelled at my incredible transformation. I held my arms up and flexed both my biceps. Stars sparkled in their eyes, either because of my hot body or because the drug they had invested in had actually delivered. “You see, gentlemen…” The investors snapped out of their trances and turned toward Oswin, who took a few steps forward with a confident ease. He gestured toward me. “...our drug is fast-acting and highly effective. In no time, you can have hundreds of men with multiplied strength, capable of more than ever before.” He kept going on, adding some data and observations from trials. His demeanor was cool and collected, like he had planned for all this to happen. Even though not everyone was in on the plan. This body felt incredible, but I didn’t forget that Oswin still drugged me against my will. I wasn’t sure how to confront him, whether to bring it up now or wait until after the presentation. I felt causing a scene now might hurt my standing with the company more than it would with Oswin’s. But as I stood there, I felt my body twitch at various locations. My right pectoral. My left calf. My right tricep. And the air seemed to thicken, forcing me to take deeper breaths. I no longer felt the soft, pulsing energy from before. Instead I felt intense fire. “Gah!” I thought a nuclear explosion went off in my body. Heat, energy, and pain seared through entire being, straight through the core. I no longer heard Oswin’s voice. I assumed my outburst interrupted his little talk and drew everyone’s attention back to me. I didn’t see, though. I had my eyes shut, with jaws clenched tight, as I endured the pain. I guessed what was coming next. “Hrg...not...done,” I said through gritted teeth. “...still...grow...fuck! Oh, fuck! Aah!” I reeled back, thrusting my chest forward. In an instant the front of my shirt exploded. Plastic buttons shot out as two enormous cannonballs jutted so far in front of me that I nearly fell forward. When I regained my balance I stared with jaws open at two enormous mounds on my chest. But I didn’t have much to admire myself. I was burning up. I needed to get out of these clothes. Only the top buttons had snapped off from my initial growth. This allowed my shirt to form a “V” down the outer edges of my pecs, until the two edges met back in the center, just above my belly button, and held together by a straining button. I grabbed the sides of my shirt and pulled down hard. My shirt didn’t put up a fight. Within seconds my upper body became fully bare, leading to some oohing and aahing. But I didn’t pay much attention to the others because the fire raged in my arms. “Fuck, it burns!” I said, dropping the remnants of my shirt. “So hot...ahh! Fuuuck!” My fingers throbbed as they stretched longer and thicker, until each one resembled flashlights. My forearms ballooned in size until they matched my biceps. But my upper arms desired to be the biggest. They swelled larger into veritable boulders, patterned by pencil thick veins snaking all around. My biceps were already huge on their own, but adding in my hard, massive triceps? Better call off the demolition crew because my arms contained unstoppable wrecking balls, and they could do some serious damage. “What’s going on? Is this supposed to be happening?” I heard someone ask. Worry drifted in for a moment, but the intoxicating growth blew it aside. I wanted to get bigger. “I think...everything’s...just fine. Oh, yes!” My back erupted with mountains of muscles. I felt huge slabs of meat growing all over and becoming chiseled marble. My arms got pushed by my expanding lats and I could feel my traps scraping the base of my skull. My hand brushed the front of my stomach, where eight swollen hard billiard balls formed my abs. My upper body had expanded so much I had to take a step to balance myself, having gotten so top heavy. It was then I noticed my pant cuffs hung well above the ankle. I was getting taller. Then my pants tore at the seams as my diamond hard calves grew too big to be contained by clothes. The tear kept running upward as my titanic quads swelled larger than beach balls. Soon what remained of my pants fell onto the ground in a heap after they couldn’t handle my growing body any longer. In just my boxer-briefs, I kept surging bigger. Every muscle seemed to breathe and with each breath they kept inflating with mass and power. But no one paid any more attention to my monstrous, growing frame. No, everyone’s eyes had refocused on the distended bulge at my crotch. Now that I only had on a stretchy pair of underwear, the outline of my thick cock was clearly visible. I wasn’t sure how much my cock had grown in my initial growth spurt, but now that I could see it, I knew that every part of my body felt the drug’s effects. Most people would have thought I had stuffed a cucumber or an eggplant into my underwear. But everyone in the room knew that was no vegetable or foreign object of any kind. It was pure one hundred percent Junichi down there. And that was before the second growth wave. “Oh-oh fuck!” The fire had converged straight to my sensitive flesh. It burned so good. “Yes, yes!” I found myself chanting to myself as I felt the pressure build. Then I heaved my hips forward and I felt my shaft throb and fucking grow! The threads in my boxer-briefs popped at the first thrust. Then the front obliterated at the second. My erect, massive spear sprung out, piercing the space in front of me. Its shiny head, glistening from precum, throbbed violently as inch after inch piled on to its length and its width. I could feel the blood rushing through the entire length and helping it appear engorged and massive. I caught in the corner of my eye one investor holding his arm and mentally comparing its size to my dick’s. One foot? Two feet? Maybe more? I couldn’t be sure of my cock’s exact measurements but I knew it was huge. Its thickness had to rival that of a telephone pole. Even with my enlarged hands I had to use both of them to fully encompass its girth. “Oh!” Even a single stroke sent bolts of pleasure down my body. A huge glob shot out from the tip and splattered a section of the table. Someone’s cell phone got completely soaked just from my pre. Huff. Huff. Breaths akin to a truck’s rumbling filled the room. I examined my body once it seemed the growth finally subsided. Man, I was big. No, I was enormous! Arms like steel pipes and filled with power and strength. A back wider and thicker than two average men side by side. My awe-inspiring chest, protruding so far I had to bend forward just to see my toes. “There you have it folks.” Oswin stepped up, taking back the spotlight. He tried to keep the confidence and charm he carried during the entire meeting, but I could tell he was improvising on the spot. “This is what our drug can do. It’s simple, fast acting, and, appropriately, powerful. Just imagine what our military - our country - will be like after we-” “Shut the fuck up.” The words came out of my mouth before I knew what I wanted to say. But I wasn’t about to back down. I pointed one massive finger at Oswin. “You did this to me, you bastard. You fucking drugged me!” Oswin’s smile wavered, but he kept a brave face. “Would you have taken the drug willingly? Taken that leap of faith? I made you bigger. Better. Look at your body. Feel the strength coursing through your muscles. You’re a real man now, and - wah!” I grabbed his torso with one enormous hand and pushed him towards the table. Oswin moaned as his back made impact with the table, hard enough to crack the wood. He opened his shut eyes as he recovered, only to notice my hulking form looming over him. “You’re right,” I said, reaching down. Oswin tried to scramble backwards, but he couldn’t get far. Not from me. I snagged his ankle and brought him back towards me. Then, I pinched some loose fabric from Oswin’s pants, and with one swift motion, I ripped them off, leaving my boss in just his underwear. “I’m a real man. And I’ll show you what a real man can do.” “Wait, what are you doing? Stop!” That was more like it. I watched in amusement as fear overtook Oswin’s confidence. The tall, muscular body that once intimidated me now trembled with fright. His free leg kicked at my hand, but his foot just felt like a light tap. “Let...let go of me, dammit! Wait, what...what the fuck?” The smaller man flailed even more when he saw that I had positioned my monster cock right at his ass. “Please, Junichi!” All of his pleas fell on deaf ears. I only had one word in mind. Strike. And I did, holding Oswin’s body down as I thrusted forward. It didn’t matter that my boss still wore his underwear. My hard dick punched a hole through the soft fabric and impaled his tight ass. Oswin cried out in pain. “Oh-!” “-fuck!” I roared in pleasure. Each time I pulled out and pushed back in, I felt euphoria flooding my head. My muscles tensed as I pounded Oswin’s ass, which served to remind me how much of a hulking beast I had become, and that just reinvigorated my efforts. “Stop!” Oswin yelled, tears trickling down his cheeks. “Stop, please! Fucking-mmph!” I covered his face with my hand, preventing him from saying anymore. With Oswin silenced, I could hear the whispers from the other men in the room. I had nearly forgotten about them. Some had horrid expressions on their faces. A simple presentation had turned into a vicious fucking, after all. But the other men, they had fascinated looks. Some even rubbed prominent bulges at their crotches. I couldn’t help flashing a grin and giving them a wink. I loved the admiration and attention I garnered from these enamored gentlemen. I thrived from their pleasure. I didn’t care about the ones who found the current sight to be gruesome. I was too big, too strong, too beastly to care about their thoughts. And that made my cock throb. I was the man now. “FUUCK!” I came with the force of a hurricane. My first shot filled Oswin to the brim. My shots forced his body off my cock, which sent cum raining all over the room. Powerful jets splattered against the ceiling and showered all the men in the room. I tried to get a handle of my shooting cock, but even taming a wild bull would have been easier. My cock jerked to the left, then to the right. One guy got hit with a direct blast and got sent ten feet back. Finally, after a minute or two, my orgasm faded, leaving me as the only one standing. Everyone else had fallen, crouched, or hid. Even the conference table had broken at some point during my earth shattering orgasm. I took several deep breaths through my massive lungs. The smell of cum and man satisfied me. “Once everyone else realized the coast was clear, they silently clambered onto their feet. Some tried to wipe the cum off their clothes. Others tried to salvage their phones from my sticky fluids. Then the door opened. Soroush stuck his head through the door. He was about to say something, then stopped, stunned at the sight before him. His eyes went from the flood, to the men, to Oswin, and then to me. He gaped as I approached him, each step sending tremors in a small radius. He looked me up and down, marvelling at the adonis before him. I spoke first. “Seven PM. First round’s on me.” He nodded dumbly at first but returned to his senses quickly. “Wait, what about Oswin?” I turned my hefty body and watched as Oswin, still recuperating from my intense fucking, lying on his side. He curled into a ball while moaning from the pain and the memory of my thick cock in his ass. I turned back to Soroush. “What about him?” Then I left him standing dumbfounded as I strutted down the hall. The tyrant had been overthrown.

Guys, this is more of an experiment than anything else. I hope it's even slightly as enjoyable as the last story I posted. Please let me know what you think, even if it sucks! I do want to take a moment here and thank everyone who's read my stories so far and all the love I have received. It means so much to me. After the first written thing I ever posted, the positive feedback has given me the confidence to keep writing, and I appreciate it all so much. ____________________________________ I was introduced to this new website called Chaturbate recently. Well, new to me, anyway. As a gay 24 year old male, it offered some great eye candy. I loved clicking on various pages, watching these guys do sexy things in front of a live camera for their audiences, all the while knowing damn well they were being watched. I think it was the fact that they knew they were being watched that made it even hotter. They would voluntarily get in front of a live camera feed, whip out their dicks, often times get completely naked, and jerk off, or even invite others into the scene for even more fun. What was it about watching another dude jerk off that was so enticing; so hot? I mean, sure, we had our preferences. Some dudes were more attractive than others. To each his own, of course. But why was it so hot to see another dude jerk off? I couldn't figure it out. And, I guess I wasn't all that concerned with it, either. I wasn't a sociologist, nor was I trying to be one. All I knew was if I wanted to see some hot shit, I would go to Chaturbate and look for some hot guys to watch. And I'm sure we all know well enough how that site works, now. The "models" didn't do it entirely for free. Viewers had the option to "tip" them in the form of virtual currency. Often times the models would perform requests when tip goals were met. I, personally, always looked for the muscled dudes to watch, and I would always hope to catch some flexing, and some viewers would even request a flex or two. I wanted to tip so many of the models so badly, but I didn't have the money to throw at them. As time has gone on, however, the site has become boring. As it's become more and more popular, more and more models will just sit in front of the camera and do literally nothing until tips are received. I haven't been able to truly enjoy a Chaturbate model in a long time. In my opinion, they've lost sight of the whole point. Now it's all about the money. And they've become boring, as a result. Money does tend to ruin things. We all know it. So, I've stuck with the other sexy things I've found over the years to look at, like Muscle-growth.org, or YouTube flexing videos. I can usually find something hot to look at either way. I just really enjoyed Chaturbate because the fact that it was all live made it so hot. It made the models so much more real. And then I came across another website. It wasn't too far off from the concept Chaturbate used. When I was horny, I'd sit myself down knowing full well that I wanted to be hard and throbbing, eventually shooting a load. I loved being horny, to begin with. There is nothing much better than feeling your dick growing and swelling within the confines of your pants or shorts; the skin of your cock sliding against the fabric, the friction causing jolts of pleasure that shoot all over your crotch. I'd often be grabbing myself during the hardening process, feeling my own dick swelling within my hand, hardening, getting thicker and bigger. It intensified the horny feeling. I'd be perusing the Muscle-growth.org forums, reading stories, or looking at the media, feeling my dick growing bigger and bigger. I was never satisfied with all I could ever find, though. Every once in a while I'd check back with Chaturbate to see if there was any change in the models' behavior, but they'd usually be just too boring to cause any real pleasure. Even if they were naked, they'd still just sit there. BUT, as we all probably know, searching the net can yield surprising results. One day I found a new site much like Chaturbate. It was an accidental discovery, but then again, so was Muscle-growth.org. I came across this new site called Camjerk. It followed the same principle; it had models that would sit in front of a live cam who seemed just too happy to get off on people watching them. And, since it was a fresh site, the models were much more interactive, showing off and jerking and flexing and doing whatever just to get reactions in the chat box from the audience. I loved watching the muscled dudes, too, because even when they weren't flexing, their muscles were still on display. They'd flex pretty nicely just from jerking off. Pecs would stand out and involuntarily flex, getting pumped even, showing veins. Arms, of course, would get pumped up as well, and biceps would flex and unflex as they'd move their hands up and down over their dicks. FUCK, the muscled dudes were the best to watch. I'd even gone and purchased the virtual currency from this site so I could tip my favorite models. They'd always show their appreciation with flexing, no matter how small the tip. One day I was feeling pretty hot and horny. Which... was pretty much every day, for me. Nevertheless, I felt like I needed to shoot a load. So, I went straight to Camjerk. None of my favorites were online, which was disappointing, but it didn't stop me from browsing the other profiles on the site. I came across this one profile close to the bottom. He didn't have any followers, and I assumed he was new. His profile said he was 21, and had his body type listed as "muscular." That piqued my interest, and I felt he was worth checking out. He wasn't on-camera in the preview thumbnail, which gave me nothing to work with, at least not yet. I clicked on him, and saw a live video feed of an empty chair. He was away, I guessed, and I decided to wait a few minutes before moving on to something else. He had no other viewer than just me. I wanted to see just how muscular he was, though. I decided to check out my phone while I waited. I was looking down, scrolling through Facebook, when I heard some sound come through my computer speakers. I looked up at my computer screen and I saw a guy settling down in the chair that was originally in the video shot. The area in which he was situated seemed to be part a bedroom, as I could see part of a dresser in the image, and I could see some clothes strewn about on the floor, as well as part of a closet door. Or what I assumed was a closet door. The walls of the room were plain white, with not much adorning the walls except a single picture of what appeared to be a family member or perhaps a friend. I focused on the guy in the chair. He really did look 21. He had a cute face; round nose, slightly tanned, perfectly shaped lips that were neither too big nor too small. Perfect for kissing, I'm sure. His left ear had two of those hoop earrings, but they were black, not silver or gold. His hair was light brown, shaggy, and not curly, but it wasn't quite straight either. He had that "bed head" look, perfectly pulled off in a way that few guys can manage. His eyes were bright blue, which were striking. Not common for brown haired dudes. But the thing that disappointed me, though, was that he was not at all muscular. His profile had that lie on it. He was very thin, mostly skin and bones. He had a t-shirt on, yes, but I could just tell. His shirt was plain white, no decals or anything on it. His arms hung from the sleeves with plenty of space, like noodles. I had to admit, though, that he was extremely attractive. I wanted to move on to another model, but his face was so hot. Plus, I wanted to see if any other viewers called him out on his lie about being muscular. I checked the viewer count, and I was still the only one. Hmm. This poor dude didn't seem to have any fans. He's been online for a while now, thirty minutes, according to the information on his page. I was still somehow his only viewer? Who wouldn't want to look at this guy? He was just sitting in his chair, with a somewhat neutral look on his face. He was mostly just chilling; looking around the room, sometimes at the camera, sometimes at his phone. I decided to send him a message in the global chat box. Me: Hi how are you? He was looking at his phone, but I heard the message sound from his side and he looked up. He smiled a bit, reading the message, but then went back to looking at his phone. Okayyyy.... I wasn't sure what his goal was. Doesn't he want tips? Why else would he be on this site? It was starting to make more sense now that he only had one viewer. But I was invested in at least figuring this guy out, and I sent him another message. Me: Hello? Are you planning to do anything? He looked up again at the message, smiled again, and typed a response. Him: yea i will i jus need tips I was astounded. What a bold guy. I looked at his profile again and noticed his "Lifetime tips received" amount was at zero. He's literally never even gotten a tip. Me: You want tips to do something? Have you ever considered earning them first? Him: if anyone would actually tip me, id more then earn them Me: What do you mean Him: tip and see dude Me: There are plenty of other guys I could tip, give me something small, anything, first. You're not even muscular, and your profile says you are. Him: lol man i dont even care about the tips, i jus need them to do what i wanna do, and believe me, i wanna do it so bad What. Me: What's stopping you? Just do it. Whatever it is. You're attractive as hell, I want to see you do something. Him: jus tip me 1 token man if you wanna see why my profile has no lie on it jus tip me This whole time he's sitting there, typing away, with a shifting expression on his face. He started out somewhat amused, but the more I messaged him, the more of a worried look he developed. Damn. I guess he really did just want a tip. He said just one token, and I guess that's not unreasonable. I could spare a single token, even if it means he still doesn't do anything. He was cute as fuck. I couldn't stand the disappointed face he was making, even if it was still cute. Me: Fine. I'll give you a tip. His face lit up and he smiled a wide smile, almost cocky even. I moved my mouse cursor over the tip button and clicked on it, and the dialogue box popped up with the field into which I type how much I want to tip. I entered '1'. Then, I pressed enter. I looked back at the video feed and saw him sitting there with an expectant expression looking into the camera. He was biting his bottom lip. I was slightly expectant, as well. I wanted to see what he would do, and I sort of anticipated something like removing his clothes, or showing his dick. But he just sat there, like he was waiting for something. Then I heard the sound of a tip receipt on his end, the confirmation noise he hears when a tip comes through. Immediately he closed his eyes, his head tilted back slightly. He exhaled a deep breath, with a smile on his face. "Here it comes," he says. Then I saw it. His shoulders broadened, right there in front of me, on camera. I saw his neck thicken, and his traps rose up a bit where there were none, before. "Ahhh..." He opened his eyes, looked into the camera, and said "This feels so gooooood." He turned his head, then, and raised his left arm. He pulled the sleeve back, and said "Watch." He flexed his arm, and fuck. His bicep started to swell, and right there in front of me I saw a vein begin to show and protrude. He pumped it a few times, and it swelled slightly more. I realized right then that my dick was rock hard as I watched this dude grow. He dropped his arm, and sat relaxed again. "Now do you see? That's what happens when I get tips." He grinned. Me: Holy shit! Are you for real? How did you do that? Is this some kind of CGI stuff?" Him: no dude, im real lol tip me more to see more I was completely flabbergasted. It was a hot thing to see, for sure, but I wasn't convinced that it was real. Could it be real? Part of me felt like I was being duped. But it was hot, no matter what. I wanted to see more. I went to the tip box again and this time entered ten tokens. I pressed send, and I waited for him to receive it. He was sitting in his chair, absent-mindedly feeling his own arms, when the tip sound came through again. His eyes widened when he heard it. "Oh god, dude, thanks so much. I love how this feels!" He threw his head back, "oohhh yeaaahhh..." he moaned. His shoulders broadened more, and I could see stress lines forming on the front of his shirt. And then I saw his chest pushing out, swelling, growing. His shoulders weren't just broadening, they were growing bigger, too, as I saw them rounding out and bulging within the fabric of his shirt. His sleeves were riding up his arms. He flexed into a double bicep this time, and FUCK! His arms were growing bigger, swelling into tennis balls. His vascularity was increasing as well. He was looking into the camera again, pumping his arms. "FUCK yeah, dude. Keep tipping, c'mon!" I realized I was jerking myself while he was growing again. Shit! This was definitely hot as fuck. How does he only have one viewer, though? Am I the only one who's ever tipped this guy? I pulled down my zipper and let my dick pop out, and I was rock hard, and throbbing. I gripped my dick and continued stroking myself as I starting thinking about how big this guy could get. I sent another ten tokens, and I have to admit that doing so was harder than before, now that my one hand was completely occupied. The tip sound came through--another tip confirmation. "Fuuuuck!" he says, "You like this? Get ready!" He kept his arms flexed, and they started to swell again. They were throbbing, growing, pulsing, like watching a dick get hard. "Unnnghh," he moaned. His traps were rising up, and his shirt was getting tighter and tighter. His pecs were becoming clearer under the fabric, and he pushed himself away from his desk so more of his body could be seen. He lifted his shirt bottom, and FUCK! Those abs weren't neglected, for sure, as he had a clear defined six-pack. His lats were pressing out against his shirt, too. More stress lines were forming on the front of his shirt, and I could tell it was almost at its limit. He stood from his chair, and it was clear he looked more like a gym-rat now than anything else. Gone was the skinny twig of a guy that was there before. And his beautiful, sexy face remained the same. "Fuck yeah, dude. It's been so long since I've been able to do this. Feels soooo good." My dick was at its limit, and I was barely containing the ejaculation. I didn't want to cum yet, I wanted to see more! I hit the jackpot here. This guy was growing muscles on camera, essentially doing it just for me, and there were no others to watch it and steal his attention. I wanted him to grow more. I needed to see it. I kind of wanted to see how big I could get him. Me: Wanna grow more? I realized I hated having to type messages while he could just speak. "Fuck yeah, man. I wanna grow bigger and bigger!" He flexed his arms as he was saying that. FUCK!!! My dick was so hard. I decided to tease him a little. Me: How bad do you wanna grow? "Dude, you have no idea. This feeling... it's beyond anything I can describe." He was flexing his left arm and feeling it with his right hand, looking at it lovingly... or maybe it was more with lust. It was hard to tell for sure. Me: I don't know, maybe I think you're big enough already. He looked at the screen and shook his head. "You think I'm big enough?" He flexed again. "Dude, there's no way you think I'm big enough. You've tipped three times now, and I imagine you're super hard and throbbing right about now." He winked at the camera this time. "Try to tease me I'll just tease you right back." He lifted his shirt and lowered the waistband of his shorts, showing abs and a nice V line. This guy was incredible. He was right, he beat me at my own teasing game. Fuck. My dick was oozing pre. I went to the tip box and sent another tip. Ten tokens. The sound played on his end and he moaned. "OHhhhh YES!" He let his shirt drop and stood there, letting the feeling overtake him. "Unnnffff" he moaned again, and I saw him swelling. His shoulders were growing bigger, and I saw his lats pressing out further, making his arms angled outward from his body. He was developing wings. His forearms were thickening as well, taking on that appearance that tells you a dude is strong as hell. "Shirt's getting tight, bro. This might be it." I saw it, too. His shirt was clinging to his body like a second skin, and it was sexy as fuck. He brought his arms up and flexed them, hard, and his biceps bulged into baseballs, and "RIIIIP!!" splitting the sleeves wide open. "Fuck yeah, dude." He then went into a most-muscular, and more ripping was heard as his shirt split down the center of his chest. He turned around and there was a split all the way down his back, too. Oh god. FUCK. My hand was still wrapped around my dick, and when I saw him split that shirt open, my hand involuntarily squeezed. I felt myself throb, and then the sharp feeling of cum entering my shaft, and I shot cum all over my keyboard and shirt. FUCK I shot a lot, too. I looked up and he'd grown even more since I came. He was starting to look more like a bodybuilder. Maybe not quite that big, but he was getting close. So fucking sexy. He took the remains of the shirt and tore it all from his body, leaving his torso completely bare. And holy fuck. He was hot. I mean, really fucking hot. Model hot. He stood back farther and I could see his legs had grown, too. His gym shorts were wrapped rather tightly around his quads. His pecs had grown big enough that his nipples were pointing downward. His serratus muscles were even showing, now. He started flexing his muscles, starting with his biceps. He flexed one arm, then the other, running his hand over each. "You like this, man?" He continued flexing, pumping his biceps. He flexed both at the same time, grinning, and looking at each peak. He then put his hands on his hips and leaned forwards, flexing his traps, making them rise up. "Fuck, I love having traps, again. I love growing so much!" My dick was hardening up again already. He smiled at the camera, and made his pecs bounce. "Still got more tips in you?" he asked. "You haven't said anything in a while. You enjoying yourself?" Me: I'm still here. And yes, I love it. This is a show I'd never imagined getting to see. "Haha I bet." He flexed his arms again. "I bet you're glad you tipped me now. Have I done enough to earn it?" He winked. Me: Hmm I don't know. "Ohhh really?" He chuckled. "Maybe this will help." He looked down, and I followed his gaze. "Ohhh yeahhhh, feels so good to let this happen finally." His shorts were beginning to tent up. I watched as the bulge in his shorts grew and pulsed, until the tent was so big I could camp under it. He glanced back up at the camera and grinned. Me: Wtf how have you not been hard so far? "Hahaha I've gotten good at controlling it. I need to be able to put on a show, you know?" He flexed his dick and made his tent bounce. Tip. Oh god I needed to tip again. My dick was already throbbing hard again. "DING!" The sound of a tip came through again from his side. "Ohhh fuck, dude, thank you so--unghh--much!" His muscles started inflating again, and this time I could see his legs growing. His quads were clearly swelling, and I was starting to be able to see each individual muscle in them through the shorts. They were still loose at the knees. His lats were growing, too, forming bigger wings on his already wide body. "Oh fuck yeah..." he said softly. His shoulders were bulging bigger and bigger, and his arms were angling farther from his body. And damn, his arms. Growing even bigger and thicker, they were taking on the definite size of bodybuilder arms. As if he knew exactly what I was paying attention to, he flexed his right bicep, and fuck. It was approaching softball size. My dick was oozing pre and it was running down and onto my hand. "AH!" He gasped, and suddenly shot up in height about an inch or two. FUCK! And then "RIIIIP," his shorts tore up the sides, all the way to the waistband. "Fuck yeah, dude, I've never been able to get taller before, this feels soooo gooooood!" He stuck his fingers into his waistband and pulled, snapping the waistband and the shorts fell completely off, leaving him completely nude. His dick bounced out, hard as a steel pipe. "I wonder how big I can actually get?" He asked, smirking at the camera. "Oh fuck," he said again, and I watched as his dick started swelling up, too. He was already hard, and now it looked like he was getting even harder. I watched it throb and grow, getting longer and thicker. "Unnnghhh" he moaned, and I saw him reach for his cock for a second and then immediately pull his hand away. He was avoiding touching himself. His dick stopped growing, and he looked around 8 inches now. And thick. Me: Holy shit man, that is so hot. I already came once watching you, and I'm close to cumming again! He flexed a most muscular, and his muscles exploded into huge size. "Oh yeah, glad I can put on a good show for you!" My dick throbbed at his display of power. His muscles were huge, and so hot. Pre was all over my hand. It was getting everywhere, and I still had cum on my keyboard. My computer area was starting to become a sticky mess. But I didn't care. I happened to encounter this amazing, sexy, hot, beautiful... GOD of a human being by pure chance, maybe a little luck, and I wasn't going to let anything stop me from enjoying the experience. I wanted to watch him grow more. I wanted to see what more he would do. To me, this seemed like the chance of a lifetime. I put my hand on my mouse, and was about to move the cursor over to the tip button once more. I happened to look at the corner of my screen and noticed there was a little dialogue box that said "in private." My hand moved away from my mouse, while my other hand remained gripping my still throbbing dick. Why did it say this was private? I looked at the viewer count and it still said '1'. Was this why he had only 1 viewer this entire time? Did he not want other people to see him? My mind refocused, and I looked back to his video feed, and noticed he was sitting in his chair again, in front of the camera, in front of his computer. His frame took up considerably more space in the video. He was looking into the camera, a smirk on his face. He bounced his pecs a little, and flexed his arms, first the left one, then the right. His arms had gotten huge and veiny. So fucking hot. But then he spoke. "So, Mike, did you want to tip me some more?" He placed emphasis when he said my name. I don't know how he knew my name, and it made my heart skip a beat. I had no private information in my profile. I started to feel panic creeping into my body. But then I heard him start giggling, and I do mean giggle. It was a joyous laugh, one that held no malice. It was actually comforting. "Relax, dude. I knew who you were this whole time. It's why I made this private. I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, though. We're neighbors." He flexed his arms into a double bicep and flashed a big grin that allowed his teeth to sparkle. "And I was hoping you'd be willing to come over to my place. I wanna see how much fun we can have when you can give me more than just tips." And then I came. ___________________ Part 2

I haven't posted a story in a while - here's my next offering, I hope it's enjoyable...I really loved writing it. There are three parts, all pretty much written so I might post some more later. Part 1 “Oh FUCK baby…give it to me,” Justin moaned. I looked down to watch my thick cock sliding in and out of my boyfriend-of-2-years’ tight ass. “Mmmm, you fucking slut,” I growled, picking up the pace, ramming my 8-inch cock in hard and fast, enjoying the sound of Justin’s breath catching in his throat as I did. We both LOVED fucking doggy style. I grabbed his hips with both hands, pulling him back onto my cock and looking down to see my flexed biceps bulging. Justin screamed with pleasure. “OH FUCK YEAH”. Sweat dripped from my heaving, swollen pecs down onto my defined abs. Still pounding Justin’s sexy ass, I ran one hand up his back, feeling him shiver to my touch, and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back hard. “Mmmmmmm YEAH,” Justin moaned, desperate. He loved it rough. “TAKE THIS THICK COCK SLUT BOY,” I roared, fucking him even harder. Justin gasped, moaning continuously and pushing his twink ass back onto my cock. “Breed me Daddy,” he begged. I was getting close. “Oh I will boy,” I grunted, pounding him like an animal rutting. I looked up at the mirror on the wardrobe opposite our bed. God we looked hot when we fucked. I brought one arm up, flexing my bicep as I hammered Justin’s ass hard. I loved the look of my swollen peak, veins mapped across the surface, the epitome of manliness. Justin loved it too – he looked up while we fucked and then reached down, starting to jerk his cock as he stared at my pumped bicep. “Mmmmm look at your fucking huge biceps,” he groaned, clearly close to cumming himself. The sight of my hot twink boyfriend jerking his cock to my muscular arms, pushed me over the edge. “FUCK BABE I’M GONNA CUM,” I roared, feeling the orgasm start to rise up from my swollen balls. “BREED YOUR BOY,” Justin moaned in response as I grabbed his hips again, thrusting my throbbing dick deep in him. With that, my thick cock swelled even more, pleasure ripping through my entire body and an animalistic scream escaping my mouth. Jets of cum shot from my cock and I looked down to see Justin writhing too in his own intense orgasm. It was always like this for us. “FUCK,” we both screamed over and over, bodies writhing. I collapsed forward, my hard cock still in Justin’s tight ass. I knew he liked the feel of me on top of him like this and heard him sigh in pleasure. We lay like that for several minutes as our powerful orgasms continued to subside, our rapid breathing starting to settle. “Right babe…I need to hit the shower,” I said, suddenly aware of the time – I couldn’t be late for work again. He tried to reply but no real words came out. I chuckled as I headed to the bathroom, pleased I could still fuck him into a sex coma. I turned on the shower and, as I waited for the water to heat up, I appreciated my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. I couldn’t deny I was pretty happy with what I saw. Pushing on for 35 and with a busy job that involved plenty of shift work I had to put in a lot of effort to stay in shape. A boyfriend 10 years younger than me certainly helped as motivation. I’d been hitting the gym 4 times a week for 15 years and I guess it showed. I liked how my slightly hairy pecs jutted out over my abs, still heaving from the exertion of the fuck. I liked the size of my arms – I couldn’t help pulling a double bicep flex and watching the symmetrical mounds of muscle bunch up tight. Impressive peaks for an amateur lifter. I liked my 8 pack abs and the “v” leading down to my thick, now soft, cock. And I fucking loved my quads – big and thick – just looking at them made me feel so strong. I quickly jumped in the shower, conscious that if I kept up this line of thought I’d be rock hard again and subsequently late for work. I let the warm water cascade over my worked-out body, totally relaxed from the amazing fuck session. Five minutes later, I was back in the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. Justin had barely moved, other than to flip himself over so that he was now lying staring at the ceiling, his arms above his head. I couldn’t help letting out a deep moan as I took in the beauty lying in front of me. I loved his slim figure and smooth skin, still glistening with drops of sweat from his pounding. His cute boyish face was totally peaceful and a beautiful smile lightened his features as he opened his eyes to look at me. I ran a hand up his tight abs (Justin too kept himself in shape) and then tweaked his hot nipples causing him to shudder in response. “Don’t…” he moaned. “You’ll be late for work…”. A mischievous smile on his face. I knew he was right and headed over to the wardrobe to find my work clothes. “Erm…Dan?” Justin said a minute later, his hesitancy causing me to turn and take in the slight frown that had appeared on his face. “Yeah babe…what’s up?” I asked, pulling on my scrubs and walking over to sit next to him again. “I was just thinking…” Justin was never nervous. “Go on babe, spit it out,” I said kindly, stroking his short blond hair. “Well…could we…perhaps…try it the other way round next time?” he asked, immediately looking to the side to avoid my gaze. Ah. “Justin…we’ve talked about this. I just don’t think it would work babe,” I replied, full of love for him. “Why not Dan? You never tell me why…” he said, accusation in his voice. This conversation came up from time to time. At first, it had been natural that I’d be the one doing the fucking – Justin loved riding cock and I loved to give it. Recently though he’d been more questioning…why couldn’t we swap sometimes? It was getting more and more difficult to diffuse the situation… “It’s because of this isn’t it?” he questioned angrily, holding his cock in his hand. I was surprised at his directness and was too slow to deny the accusation. It didn’t help that there was truth in what he said – Justin was blessed with a cute face and fit body but his smaller-than-average cock had always been a sore point for him. I didn’t want the experience to be disappointing for either of us… “I knew it,” he barked, his normally beautiful features rearranged into a mask of anger and humiliation. “No Justin…it’s not that,” I replied, trying to placate him. It was not a total lie. There was something else contributing to my reluctance – I had to admit that I’d gotten used to being the “big spoon” in our relationship. It just worked for us. The idea of taking on a more submissive role would be hard to swallow and even harder to admit. “You’re lying,” he shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. “No babe…wait,” I pleaded as he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I heard the lock click and knew it was too late to convince him otherwise.

Hi everyone! Welcome to Chapter Three. This chapter came about a few days ago as I was working out with a friend of mine and we talked about body dysmorphic issues we both have with out bodies, and how we both see ourselves as the fat kids we used to be. I haven't been fat for a long time now... but I have trouble not thinking of myself that way. The transformation sequence in this chapter comes from what my friend said he would evolve into if he had to become what he really was deep down inside. I think he enjoyed telling me about it too much!! Enjoy!!!! The Test Chapter Three: Destruction Chad and Jacob emerged from the ether outside Chariots in Vauxhall. Jacob had never been to a gay sauna before, but as he gazed upward toward his friend, he could see that Chad was practically vibrating with excitement. - Can you feel it? Each man in there is calling out to me. As each one experiences lust, desire, orgasm, or experiences any form of sexual stimulation, it is like a call out to my soul. I can hardly control myself. It is taking every ounce of strength I have not to take you right here, Jacob. I need to be among them. Chad walked away from Jacob and approached the door. Without even touching it, the door swung open, and he stepped inside. Jacob ran after him, nervous to be alone. William who had passed out towels and charged the entrance fee at Chariots for seven years was bored with it all. He had seen everything and there were no surprises… that was until the wind blew the door open, and the man in skin tight leather pants strode in. He had to bend down to get his muscle mass through the door. It also looked as if the door suddenly stretched itself to allow the man into the room, but no doubt that illusion was only due to the sudden heat that filled the room. William was instantly hard… something that hadn’t happened in 24 years, and he waved the man through without asking either he or his small friend for the 20 pound entry fee. He must have been so enraptured by the mere sight of this God standing in his presence that as he walked away into the next room, it seemed as if the leather pants disintegrated from his body, and he was totally naked. I definitely need to get my eyesight checked, William thought as the man’s perfect ass and back disappeared from sight. William placed his hand on his erection, the hardest it had been since he was 15. Waves of intense horniness passed over him, and he could barely think straight. Fuck it, he thought as he got up from his stool, and followed the man in. He needed to be with him… worship him like the God he obviously was. The sound of sex was everywhere as Jacob and Chat entered the main room of the spa. Fog filled the air and the smell of poppers came from every directions. There appeared to be twenty men in the room. Some were fucking, some were observing, some were masturbating, and others were simply talking to each other while stroking their cocks. Chad observed his disciples with pride. With one thought, Chad closed his eyes and released his scent into every molecule of air. It traveled quickly throughout the room reaching each and every man. Silence quickly overtook it. One by one, each man slowly stopped whatever they were doing and walked over to Chad. At first, they only stared, afraid to touch him. Filled with his own uncontrollable desires, Jacob moved next to his friend and began to lick and clean the deep grooves between his abs. As if Jacob had singlehandedly broken the damn, every man began to touch Chad, caress him, lick him, kiss him, and even fuck him. Soon Chad was brought to the floor by the men so they could better pleasure him. Sill not satisfied, Chad called out for more worshipers. From miles away, men who were straight, gay, and questioning stopped what they were doing and made their way to Chariots. Three blocks away the local gay theatre company stopped performing their production of Beautiful Thing when nearly every member of the audience (five lesbians remained in their seats) stood up and left the auditorium with the group desire to worship Chad. Even the cast walked away from the stage and followed the audience to Chariots. Within one hour of Chad being there, hundreds of men filled the room. They each took turns fucking Chad and even trying to be fucked by him. A few dedicated fisters succeeding in having him slightly enter them, and were rewarded with the most intense orgasms they had ever had. Every inch of Chad was covered with men pleasing him. Soon he could not hold back, and he began to spray the populace with his seed. Each man took in as much as they could, enjoying the sweet ambrosia that flowed from his loins. Momentarily awaken from his sexual haze, Jacob could hear each man emanating a sound from deep within their souls. It was a word. - Eros! Eros! Eros! - Why are they saying that? - They know that is my name. - I thought it was Chad. - Chad was my human name. Eros is now the name I possess. A wave of sadness filled Jacob. He suddenly realized his friend was gone to him. Chad had never really needed him, but there had been a certain bond between them that had seemed special. Now that he was a God, Chad, or rather Eros, needed nobody. The God of Sex and Lust didn’t need a human wingman or hanger-on. Jacob began to separate himself from the group and walk away. Noticing his friend was gone, Chad turned and with his powerful hand, picked Jacob up and deposited him onto his massive chest. - You can still call me Chad. I’d like that. As hundreds of men brought pleasure to his body, Chad moved his large head toward Jacob. Without any supernatural influence, both men began to kiss… softly at first, and then filled with more passion. It was the best sensation either had ever felt, and Chad began to cum again. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Chaos materialized outside the lab building close to the Jeep Jacob had driven to his house. How long ago that time seemed, and how pathetic his life had been then. He had been a man pretending to be a God… yet here he was… a God disguising himself as a man. He breathed in deeply and attempted to get the whereabouts of the one he could only describe as his ‘new-formed brother.’ As he attempted to locate he and Jacob, a psychic punch threw him backward onto the pavement. Something powerful was blocking him from learning their location. Sparks of lightening shot from his eyes. His desire was to kill every human in his path with one blow… but he attempted to control his craving. There must be another way. Chaos stood up, dusted himself off, and moved closer to the Jeep. Taking a deep breath, he took in its scent. From the sensory explosion in his mind, he knew this was indeed his brother’s vehicle. He could smell human sweat mixed with cologne mixed with sex coming from the machine. Images of the many men his new-formed brother had fucked flooded his mind, and Chaos grew angry. How easily this man had lived his human gay life. Men had fallen at his feet, and he took them for granted. He took is existence for granted. Simply out of spite, Chaos reached out to his ex-wire and caused her to stumble and injure her back. Chaos grinned as he saw this occur in his mind. She was the one who had idiotically gotten pregnant. She was the one that had demanded a second child. She was the one who had entrapped him in a marriage and life he couldn’t stand. Anger bubbled inside of him again, and he threw is ex into a second contraction of pain. He clenched his fist tight as he continued the agonizing pain pulsating through her body. When he felt she could handle no more, he continued for another minute before setting her free. Returning to the Jeep, Chaos flicked his forked tongue at it, receiving tiny chemical molecules of information. In moments, he knew the exact location his brother had been in prior to arriving at the lab. A gym. Of course it was. The hunt was on. Now the fun could begin. Dark mist swirled around the figure of Chaos, and he disappeared. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Adrian Brooks shut off the foyer lights and turned the lock in the gym door. What had once been a massive old warehouse with immensely tall ceilings had been converted three years ago into a gym that catered to casual gym goers and muscle heads alike. Admiring the empty gym club, he admitted that this was his favorite time of the day. This was when he had the place and all of its machines all to himself, and he could work out in peace. All day he sat behind the desk welcoming patrons, answering questions, making smoothies, and cleaning white towels. The next two hours he had, working out on his own always made up for the prior eight. Adrian was a self-proclaimed gym rat, and he took no offence when people told him that he had only one real love: his body. It was a true. He took better care of his body then anyone he knew, and would rather work out then go to a pub any night. He hadn’t always been this way. Adrian had been a fat child, unhealthily attracted to chips and Coke over veg and water. Believing she was showering love on her only child, Adrian’s mother overfed him every chance she could. By fifteen, Adrian was severely overweight, had several health conditions including chronic anxiety, was bullied at school, and hand the lowest of self-esteems. One day in July two years ago, despising that he needed to hide his body behind baggy track pants and sweatshirts and couldn’t wear the shorts and skinny jeans he saw other men sporting, he decided to take his life into his hands. He began cooking his own healthy food, jogging little by little every day, and began reading up on current health and nutrition. In October of that same year, after loosing more than four stone, Adrian took his first step into a gym. With money he had saved from birthday’s and Christmases, he hired a personal trainer to show him the ropes. In no time at all he saw the faint outline of muscles replacing the fat that had once possessed his body. In a year and a half, Adrian was half the size he had been, proudly showing off his newborn pecs and biceps, and wearing the tightest clothes possible. When the front desk job at the gym became available, he jumped at it. The job meant working out for free and spending all of his time in a place he thought of as his second home. Now at age 20, Adrian stood before the mirror and flexed. He had come a long way, but still there was room for improvement. Removing his T-shirt, he focused on each muscle group, flexing in the mirror, and then judging and debating what he needed to do next to make them larger and more prominent. He knew he needed to shave his chest again. The light brown hair that coated his pecs and flowed down over his abs matched the hair on his head and stubble that had risen on his face today. Now that the gym was empty, he could do the one thing he had fallen in love with doing: working out in only a jock strap. Lifting without any clothes on allowed him to easily tune his mind with his body when he could clearly see the pump he was getting. When he opened his own gym one day, he would encourage this. Of course, it also sexual aroused him, but this was beside the point. Anything to do with muscle turned him on. He lived his life for muscle morning, noon, and night, and nothing would stop that. Adrian stacked the plates on the sleeves of the bar and began his set of bench presses with a cool 175. He completed 20 reps with this, and returned the bar to the catcher. He stood up and wet to load 25 more on each side when the lights in the gym began to flicker and go out. The emergency lights turned on, and the room was slightly illuminated, but mostly bathed in shadows. The temperature in the gym appeared to Adrian to also be rising, and he wondered if something was wrong with the Shoreditch powergrid. Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead and upper lip, so he reached for his towel and dried himself off. As he turned, he could see what appeared to be the air on his right ripple and bend. What could only be dismissed as an optical illusion or the sudden rise in temperature, Adrian leaned down and reached for his water bottle to cool off. - Could you be of some assistance? Adrian spit out some of his water, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the man speak. Looking to the shadows that bathed most of the space, he saw a man clothed all in black standing halfway across the room. - I’m sorry, mate. We’re closed. Adrian wanted to ask the man how he had gotten into the building, but he couldn’t help admiring the muscular physique he had. The man standing in front of him was simply immense with a size, that was practically unheard of. Most certainly a professional body builder, he thought, and a friend of the owner. He no doubt had his own key. That’s how he got in. Damn his size was monstrous. - I was just finishing locking up and going home myself. Thought I would get a quick chest workout in, but honestly, I’m knackered. I really should be getting home. Do you often work out here? I’ve been coming here for two years, but only started working here about six months ago. Adrian stopped talking because he knew he was just blathering on. The man dressed all in black simple stared at him and smiled. - No. I’ve never been here before. Though I doubt the equipment here could give me the pump I require. The man bounced his pecs for Adrian causing him to get slightly hard in his jock. Slowly the man walked closer to where Adrian was sitting, touching pieces of equipment as he passed. Each piece he touched suddenly rusted before Adrian’s eyes, and collapsed into a pile of dust on the floor. In shock, it took Adrian nearly twenty seconds of seeing this before he moved to run in the opposite direction. As he hoisted himself up to run into the locker room, his arms supernaturally turned completely to rubber, stretched, and distorted themselves around the bench press machine, tying themselves in a tight knot and forcing him to lie still on the bench. Although his arms were totally made of rubber now, the pain he could feel was agonizing, and any movement he made instigated the torment to rise. Closer and closer the man came until he stood right before Adrian. - You’re going to help me, aren’t you… little man? - What do you want? - Tell me who this is. The image of Chad developed in the mirror in front of Adrian. - That’s Chad. Chad Mitchell. - More. - He’s a trainer here. I think he’s worked here for a year now. - More. - I don’t really know any more. I swear. I don’t really know him. Chaos grinned and sat himself down on the bench as close to Adrian as the massive man could. With one figure, he began to stroke Adrians chest. For a moment Adrian was afraid he was going to touch him and he would disintegrate like the machines, but nothing happened. - More. - Ummm… he’s not a bad guy… he can be a bit of a jerk… kind of full of himself. - And have you ever seen this man? An image of Jacob took Chad’s place. - Yeah. That’s Jacob something or other. I don’t remember. They work out together. - Right. Chaos took his nail and began to run it over Adrian’s nipple. - And where do you think I could find Chad Mitchell. - I have no clue. I really don’t. I’m sorry. I really want to help, but he left hours ago. Chaos started flicking Adrian’s right nipple. - Hours ago? How many hours. - I don’t remember…it’s what… 9 now? I think he left at 5 or 6 Chaos continued to flick and play with Adrian’s right nipple. With lightening speed, Chaos squeezed his nipple tight sending shockwaves through Adrian. When he let go, milk abruptly started to pour from it. Chaos leaned over, and with his snake-like tongue lapped it up. - That is your fear leaking out of you… and it tastes delicious. - I want to help… please! Maybe he’s at XXL. He talks about going there a lot. Chaos grabbed the left nipple and proceeded to squeeze that one as well. Like the other, milk began to flow. Like a thirsty animal, Chaos continued to lap up the milk, his tongue burning Adrian as it touched his skin. - Please, God!! Please help me!! Chaos looked Adrian in the eyes and laughed. - The God you call on has abandoned you. Only Chaos remains. - Let me look in the files to find his address. I’m sure it has to be there. - Truthfully… the thought of my brother tires me at the moment. I’m suddenly much more engrossed in you at the moment. You taste so marvelous. You want to play some more with me… don’t you? Chaos rose to his feet and stood before Adrian. Mist whirled around the lowermost half of Chaos, and his black jeans and boots evaporated and in their place were two muscular horse legs and the most enormous hooves Adrian had ever seen. Chaos grabbed onto the hairy shaft that extended down the middle of his legs and began to stroke it, causing what was inside to elongate and harden. From within the shaft, Adrian could see a ginormous horse cock begin to emerge. - It’s time to play, Adrian. It’s time for you to play with Chaos. Without knowing how it happened, Adrian found the bench that had been supporting him had disappeared, and he was naked, and his arms were now tied to a metal rack, bending him over, ready for Chaos to fuck. An invisible finger began to play with Adrian’s hole, forcefully trying to open him up further. - Please, don’t! Please! I’ll do anything to help you! Anything!! Chaos stopped, frozen in place. He tried to lift his feet from the ground but found that he couldn’t. Even with all his strength and might, Chaos found himself immobile. Mist wrapped itself around his legs, and he was once again clothed in his tight black jeans and knee-high boots. Chaos screamed into the shadows of the empty room: - Who’s doing this? His scorpion tail tore through the ass of his jeans and swung wildly around behind him. Since he was facing away from Chaos, Adrian wasn’t sure what was occurring, but he could hear the loud sound of destruction the tail was making as it swung around, smashing into the mirror and overturning machines. - I have allowed you your little temper tantrums and show of dominance… but not it is my turn to display my power. See how… like a puppet... I control you. At the mere sound of Asarualimnunna’s voice ringing in his head, anger welled up in Chaos. - No one controls me! The tail swung and shattered another of the mirrors. - Quiet!!!! An invisible sword cut through Chaos’ tail, severing it from his body. With a heavy thud, it fell to the floor, twitching as if it were still alive, and then dissolving into a puddle of sludge. - I am your Creator! I control you! I have always controlled you! Say it to me now, or I shall snuff you out of existence. Through gritted teeth, Chaos spoke the dreaded words: - You are my creator. You control me. - Good. I will destroy you, Chaos though. I will destroy you. - Now, as you play with this human, Eros has gained nearly 150 worshipers. In his mind eye, Chaos could see Eros being worshipped from head to toe; each second more joined in the revelry. - You’ve disappointed me, Declan. I had such high hopes for you. Hearing his human name spoken by Asarualimnunna shamed Chaos down to his core… and enraged him. - Let me play the role of Creator then. Let me give you this human to help free you from your prison. Eros is doing nothing to help you. I am here to do your bidding. - Unfortunately, you have proven yourself untrustworthy. - Try me. If I fail you, then be my judge and executioner. Silence. Chaos wondered what Asarualimnunna’s decision would be. He received his answer when Adrian appeared standing in front of him. Adrian wasn’t sure what had happened and what had freed him from being raped by the man in black’s massive horse cock, but whoever did it, he was forever grateful. If only they would take him away from this psychopath. Adrian’s heart beat quickly as he saw the man in Black slowly begin to grow larger and larger, ripping through his clothes. His back snapped right below his Adonis belt as two massive horse legs grew to join the two already standing on the floor. The man’s torso grew longer and harrier, massive horns grew from his head, and a large scorpions tail swung from his hind end. When the transformation was complete, Adrian couldn’t believe what he was standing before. He had never seen something so incredible yet so filled with evil. - Look upon my true form, human. Larger and larger the creature grew until he towered feet above Adrian, his mighty horns nearly impaling the ceiling. - You have been chosen by Asarualimnunna and myself to take your place among the God’s. - Please let me go. - You beg for mercy when all I want to do is free you. I look within you and all I see is sadness. Let me be the father you never had. Let me give you the universe. Let me give you power beyond your wildest dreams. The words echoed in Adrian’s head. He wanted to close his ears so he couldn’t listen to the massive Centaur, but Chaos had a way of entering into his soul. - Tell me what you are. - Please - Tell me what you are. - I’m nothing. - That is not true. Look within yourself and tell me what you are. - I can’t. - Look at what I was. The image of a stern middle-aged man with grey thinning hair and with a half-way decent physique appeared before Adrian in the mirror. This was once the creature that stood before him, thought Adrian. This fairly average looking man was now so imposing, so regal, so god-like. - Simply from looking within, I discovered what I really was, and Chaos was born. Look within yourself. Look. Afraid of what he might see, Adrian looked within and saw himself at 16, fat and lazy. Hating this image, he tried to run from it but it engulfed him until it was all he could see. No, he thought. This isn’t me. Not anymore. As he fought his past, the image began to morph until it became what he was today. - What are you, son? - I’m muscle. - Yes. Look deeper. - I am strength. - Yes!! - I am muscle built upon muscle. - Continue! - I am perfection. I am stronger then any man who has entered this building. I tower over them. - Are you my soldier? - No…. I… I think I’m more. - I know you are… and now you must take your place. Through the many realms of existence, the birthplace of all supremacy began to glow, powering the gem stone. Rays of light shot from the gemstone in the laboratory and into the ether. Chaos felt it enter into his soul. Taking in Adrian as he stood there, Chaos released it through his eyes. The moment the beam hit him, Adrian feared every word he had said. - No! Please! I don’t want this! - You have looked within and admitted what you are. The power now fills you. Adrian felt every inch of his body start to slowly vibrate with a power that came from the God’s. He tried to fight it with all of his mental capacity, but found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but his body. He was his body. He was muscle. What else did he need to be? Perhaps the man was right… - No!!! - Don’t fight destiny, Adrian! I can feel the power filling you, caressing you, embracing you. - You can’t have me. - I already do. Stop fighting me and become what you were always meant to be. Adrian fell to his knees. The energy that coursed through every cell of his body was quickly raising his temperature. Sweat poured out of every pore. Chaos flicked his tongue and enjoyed the scent emanating from Adrian. Any second now it will begin, he thought with a wicked smile. Any second I will have my first soldier. Adrian screamed out in agony. He opened his eyes but found it difficult to focus. When he closed them, all he saw were the visages of armies of muscular men… each larger then the other. They were calling to him. Join us, they said. Take your place among us. Adrian reached out his hand to touch the herculean image that had appeared in his mind’s eye and discovered that it was him. When the two hands met, his word exploded. The sound of bones shattering filled Chaos’ ears as Adrian cried out. Every bone in his body was cracking and becoming lengthier and denser. His spine began to elongate as both his legs and arms grew further from his core. The bones of his skull cracked and rearranged themselves as the skeleton underneath grew and refined itself. Adrian reached for his face, trying to hold it together, but found it difficult to control his elongating hands. Through the pain, he opened his eyes and gazed at himself in the mirror. He could no longer identify himself from the stretched out creature he saw revealed in the mirror. Minutes before he had only stood 5’6, but now he had to be nearing 6 feet. He tried to stand erect, but his feet were too long… everything about him was too long. Once again, he tried to stand, and found that with time he was able to balance himself. His head rose up past the mirror now and continued his journey. Through his fear, Adrian heard himself giggle. Once he was looked down upon by everyone… now he would stand above them all. He laughed again but was thrown off balance by his own body. He landed on his ass with a thud. Looking at himself in the mirror again it looked as if all of his hard gains had been stretched out over his body forcing him to look like a tall emaciated skeleton. He crawled to the mirror the best he could and looked at himself closer. The heat emanating from his core was slowly tanning his body to a golden brown. If he didn’t look so sickly skinny, he would have thought it was the healthiest he had ever looked in his life. As he continued to examine himself, the stretching stopped, and there was silence. Adrian slowly got to his feet and moved away from the mirror so he could see himself completely. From what he could guess, he had to be nearly 7 feet tall. His face had elongated and thinned drastically, and the nose that had been broken twice by his drunk father had repositioned itself into a perfect Roman configuration. His jaw was sharp and angular, and his lips had a slightly pouty look he had never had before. Due to the massive heat emanating from him, every single hair on his body had fallen out and now lay on the floor… even his eyebrows. His torso was incredibly extended, finishing with the longest and scrawniest legs and arms he had ever seen. Even his penis had elongated. It flopped down in front of him half way to his knees and was as thin as an earthworm. When he grabbed the disgusting thing with his skeletal hand, it could have easily encircled it several times. With terror in his eyes, Adrian looked to the man in Black. - What have you done to me? - Patience, my son. That was only the beginning. Chaos blinked, and the energy flowed from within him again, and into Adrian. Adrian was thrown back slightly, but he maintained his balance as he felt his body getting heavier and heavier with muscle mass. - I’m growing! Adrian relished in the feeling of his muscles multiplying on his body. Larger and thicker each muscle became. No longer did his legs look like sticks, but massive tree trunks with awe inspiring calves and quads. A light dusting of blonde hair began on his legs and spilled lightly up the newly formed cobblestone abs. One by one Adrian’s abs popped out firmer and thicker, the crevices between them growing deeper. Adrian lusted after this perfect six-pack that was appearing on his lower torso, and just when he thought he couldn’t get enough, two more appeared on top. An eight pack!! I can’t believe it, he thought!! His waist caved in deeper giving Adrian the most awe inspiring and physically illogical wasp body. His waist was a mere 32 inches and his chest erupted into a massive 58 inches. Adrian felt up his own chest, loving the pecs that had grown there and the deep crevice that had formed between them. As he touched his nipples, the areoles grew larger, darker, and more sensitive. Adrian’s lats spread out wide from his back, but his arms, which were hard and full, were long enough and in proportion to this incredible form that they still rested down on his sides. His neck became a wonderful column of muscle holding up a beautifully sculptured face. Muscle sculpted his face till it would remind one of a statue created with care by one of the masters. Blonde hair grew out of Adrian’s head, long and full, going down past his shoulders. The final organ to form on this perfect specimen of manly beauty was his penis. It grew thicker with a bulbous head. His pubic hair grew in blond as well, brushing the ball sack, which held two oranges in there, proving to the world how virile he now was. When the growth finally stopped, Adrian stood before the mirror in utter awe. He had never seen such a beautiful manly form as himself. Every inch was pure perfection. There was not a blemish nor a spot nor a mark on any part of his body. Hair grew in all of the “right” places, and every muscle was in impeccable proportion and symmetry. Perfect was all he could think of when he looked at himself. Adrian’s hands couldn’t stop touching every inch of his body. He looked to Chao’s and smiled. The Centaur looked down at him. - What do you think, my son? - I’m perfect. - Yes. - So beautiful… yet so manly. Adrian shook his hair and laughed as it fell around his shoulders. He looked again at the man in black and saw that he was smiling, but there was something dark in his eyes. Was he attracted to my new form, Adrian wondered? Now that he was larger he might be physically able to take the man’s cock, but did he want to? Not wanting to appear ungrateful for what he was given, Adrian approached the Centaur. - Thank you. Thank you so much! - Thank you… father. - Thank you, father. - Are you satisfied? - Yes!! Totally!! - Really? I’m just not sure I am yet. Maybe your pecs need to be bigger. Adrian’s pecs started to swell larger before his eyes. Rounder and fuller they grew. Pound upon pound was added to his pecs until they threatened to block his view of his lower body. - No. That’s not it. Maybe it’s your body hair I don’t like. Blonde hair began to sprout all over Adrian’s chest, getting fuller and bushier. The hair traveled down his abs, coating them but never covering them. - No! That isn’t it either!! Chaos looked deeply into Adrians eyes and smiled a wicked smile. - I know exactly what it is. The magnificently huge Centaur walked behind Adrian, and placed his hands on his shoulders. Gently… almost too gently… he turned Adrian so that he was once again looking at his reflection. - You looked within, but you wouldn’t look deep enough. You looked and saw only what society told you you should be. Just as you tried to build a body the world would love, you created this mask that is still covering the true you. You still want the world to love you, don’t you Adrian? - Of course. - I will teach you something now I learned long ago… the world will never love people like you and I. They despise us. They always have and they always will… until we force them to love us. Think of all of the people that have hurt you. Your father beat you, belittled you, broke your nose several times, and then abandoned you. Your mother’s affection only harmed you, and when bullies attacked you and made fun of you every day at school, what did anyone do? - Nothing. - Exactly. They allowed it to continue. It seemed they even welcomed it. Chaos continued to speak, evenly and intensely, and the words buried themselves deep within Adrian’s soul… slowly forming a bitter fruit there. - Even when you did something for yourself, lost weight, built a new body, did anyone notice? Did anyone really care? - No. - Did your life change for the better? - No A tear fell from Adrian’s right eye. - No. Even here… the place you love more than anywhere else in the world… does anyone really respect you? Treat you as an equal? They watch as you serve them and clean up their mess, but never really see you. People like Chad Mitchell will never really see you, will they? You asked him out once, didn’t you? - Yes. - When you had gathered the courage, convinced yourself that you were his equal, what did he do? - He told me no. He told me I was too young for him. - He laughed at you. Chaos conjured up the image of Adrian asking Chad out for coffee, and it appeared like a movie on the mirror. Chad thanked Adrian, told him he was flattered, but that Adrian was too young for him, that he should ask out someone his own age. Adrian, dejected walked away. Chad watched after him, and then started laughing. “As if!!!” Chad said to the departing figure. “You think you could touch this?!” Chad flexed his bicep in the mirror and licked it. “Fuckin fatties are always lusting after me. Hate it!” The image of Chad froze on the mirror. Tears fell freely from Adrian’s eyes. - They all laugh, Adrian… until you give them a reason not to. Look at me. No one will ever laugh at me again. I looked deep… deep within and I discovered what I was. Let me help you. Let me show you the way. You aren’t this, Adonis, are you? - I want to be. - Of course you do, but for the world it will never be enough. Let them truly see you, Adrian. Let them hear you. Let them fear you. - Yes… yes… They need to see me. - Exactly. - They all need to pay for what they’ve done. - They will, my son. I promise you. Now, look deep within. Is this really you? - No. - Tell me what you see. - Muscle. I am muscle upon muscle. - Yes. - Muscle creating dominance. - Yes. - Muscle creating supremacy! - Yes! - I’m bigger, more immense then anyone! They scream in terror and awe at the sight of me!! - Yes!! - The whole world fears me, for with one word I can bring upon their destruction. - YES!!!! - That is what I am. I am Destruction. Simply saying the word caused Adrian’s voice to fall several octaves, and caused Chaos’ loins to stir. The power build up once again inside of Chaos and shot out of both of his eyes and into Adrian. Knowing that more was needed, Chaos opened his mouth wide, and a beam of light emanated from it into Adrian as well Adrian screamed as all three rays hit him at once. Within moments, he was growing again. His legs exploded in size, becoming so freakishly muscular that he was forced to spread his legs as wide as they could go just so that he could continue standing… and still they continued to pack on muscle. His feet got larger and thicker, and his toes quadrupled in size in order to hold up the immeasurable mass of his legs. When it seemed that they could no longer balance such columns of muscle, they mutated, his immense big toes shifting down and more toward the middle of his feet, creating what could only be described as a massive hybrid of human and gorilla feet, enabling him more room for control and balance, and of course, growth. Just when he thought he couldn’t spread his legs any further, the pelvic bone of the man once known as Adrian split and dislocated, growing and reforming in order for his legs to gain more and more muscle mass. Enormous veins wove themselves over the surface of his legs trying desperately to feed the colossal quads and calves. The creature once known as Adrian felt only relief and pleasure as he let himself go and evolved into his true form. Gone was the Adonis belt as his abs grew bigger, thicker, heavier, and the grooves between them grew deeper. His stomach appeared to distend creating a powerful roid gut, accentuated by an impossibly jaw dropping 15 pack that grew on it. Adrian rubbed the cobblestones of his stomach wishing them greater and more enormous. Even the sight of his stomach must cause fear. Just thinking it caused more freakish abdominal muscles to grow until he possessed an unheard of 18 pack. The creature screamed out as his rib cage cracked and split, quadrupling in size, giving more room for his massive chest to grow… and grow it did. Pound upon pound of muscle deposited itself on his pecs forcing them to become rounder, fuller, and denser. The creature drooled, happy at no longer being able to see his lower half. Bigger, he thought. Make me mightier!!! Lost in the sensation of every muscle in his body growing out of control, Destruction grinned as he had difficulty lifting the heavy arms that were growing nearly as large and as veiny as his legs. With only lust and muscle in mind, he began to massage his pecs with his ginormous hands. As he massaged his pecs, the creature noticed that something was starting to force them slowly upward toward his chin. Moving his hands down, he discovered what felt like two more nipples emerging from the skin under his pecs. Squeezing them, he discovered that they were indeed two new sensitive nipples. With what sounded like an explosion erupting from his chest, another set of massive pecs burst out and formed under the original. Yes, he thought, pinching and rubbing the massive thumb sized nipples on his new pecs. If two are incredible, four are simply amazing!! The two newly grown pecs grew larger in size till Destruction’s torso was forced to begin stretching and growing upward again to form more room. Taller and taller he rose, growing closer to the high ceilings of the gym. He was thankful that this building had such high ceilings, but even more grateful that his body was creating more space to pack on more muscle. Destruction’s lateral muscles grew more gigantic, compelling his mammoth arms away from his side. When he did try to set his arms down against this side, he was not only prevented by his lat span, but by two large lumps that had formed two feet below his arm pits. Trying his best to look in the mirror as it got further away, he saw the lumps getting larger and larger, pulsating with a power from within. The pressure built up underneath them until they finally erupted like two volcanic pimples, forcing out two new colossal arms. Destruction roared as the two additional arms gained size to match their brothers. They were nearly impossible to control at first, moving as if they had a mind of their own, until he found that through some concentration, he was finally able to manipulate them himself. Still he continued to grow taller and more muscular. Never had Chaos seen such a specimen as this manifestation of all of the anger the man once called Adrian had held down for so long. Dark brown hair erupted all over Destruction’s body, coating his arms, legs, and chest in a thick carpet. The hair on his head turned a dark brown, and a thick beard began to grown on his face becoming fuller by the minute. Standing nearly 13 feet tall, Destruction continued to grow. The world would definitely see him now. The world would quake at his massive feet. As if fuelled further by this new found anger that had been released inside of him, Destruction continued to transform. An angry ripping sound came from Destructions body as foot long razor sharp horns angrily erupted from his elbows and his shoulder blades. Raising all four of his might hands in front of him as best he could, Destruction laughed as one by one he made a tight fist, and ten inch horns began to protrude and curve from each of his upper knuckles. With his two upper arms, he easily dragged the horns of his hands across the ceiling ripping it apart. Material fell around him, but this only caused Destruction to laugh, his voice now so deep that it sounded more like an unearthly grumble. Destruction roared again, his mouth growing larger as he did. Two more rows of sharp pointed teeth forced their way through his gums behind his original teeth, creating a terrifying shark-like mouth. Exuding so much heat from his own transformation, sweat began to pour down Destruction’s brown onto his face and chest. The burning of the salt water started to irritate his eyes, so to the best of his ability, he tried to brush it away, but he found it impossible to even touch his eyes with his bloated muscular arms. The more he tried to wipe the sweat away, the more appeared to fall. Chaos watched as the colossus tried in vain to stop the odd flow of sweat. Soon though, he realized it was not simply sweat, but appeared as if Destruction’s own flesh from his forehead was turning to liquid and pouring down his face and puddling around his eyes. The liquid soon started to solidify, and like clay, began building a wall in front of his eyes. - What’s happening to me??!! Stop this now! - I’m sorry, but it’s all simply out of my control. The flesh continued to flow, building up more and more in front of his eyes until it finally covered them completely. The creature, now blinded, roared and stomped around the room causing devastation all around him. Loosing his balance, the colossus fell to the floor. Chaos watched as the flesh smoothed itself out on his forehead until it looked as if he eyes had never been there at all. - It burns! It burns!! A primal roar came from deep within Destruction as his brow ridge distended further causing an oddly masculine Neanderthal look to overtook Destructions face. The skin below the ridge began to bubble and flex, and with a loud rip, one massive red eye opened in the middle of his forehead. Arching his back, Destruction roared again. Chaos watched with excitement as the four massive nipples ripped open as well creating four more additional red eyes. - Look upon me!! Look at what I am becoming!! Destruction got to his feet with a deep bellowing laugh. Chaos could feel all five eyes on him… staring deep into him. - I will be seen!! I will be feared!!! Would you like to see another trick, father. - Show me. Destruction reached his two bottom hands down and began stroking his immense penis. The more he stroked it with animalistic force, the more it grew. As he jerked it, the shaft grew thicker and thicker, quickly tripling in size. The head continued to grown larger and more bulbous as well, overtaking the shaft with how thick and long it was itself. The most erotic and sensual feeling began to emanate from the massive shaft. Smiling and looking directly into Chaos’ eyes, Destruction stopped what he was doing. Suddenly with one quick flick, he dug the horns of his right hand into the underbelly of his penis. The beast roared out, but the sound appeared more like pleasure then pain. A moment later, Destruction lifted his left, and dug those horns into the top of his penis. Chaos expected blood to start flowing, but all he could see was the flesh of the penis moving and puddling on its own like clay. A thick river of pre began to flow from the bulbous head soaking the floor. Flexing his might biceps, Destruction pulled his arms apart, and with a loud ripping sound, Destruction’s thick cock split in half. The clay-like skin quickly formed around it, and within moments, Destruction possessed two immense penises, both now dripping free flowing pre. - What do you think of your son now? The two penises continued to grow larger, standing at attention. Using two hands to stroke his penises and two hands to massage his basketball sized testicles, Destruction brought himself to the most forceful of orgasms. Cum rocketed from both shafts, covering the floor and shattering the mirror. Asarualimnunna smiled as the wall into the fifth realm cracked and he could easily slip through. Standing now at an immense sixteen feet and weighing thousands upon thousands of pounds of pure muscle, Destruction had finally been born. Angrily he began to tear the building apart, wanting to free himself from his prison. - Calm, my son!! Destruction did as his loving father requested. - There will be plenty of time for you to show yourself to the world. First, we must find another to join our army against the common enemy…Eros. We must build it before he is able to, and if my calculations are correct, only four more will be able to be born. Come with me. I think I know the next perfect candidate.

Photo Booth Pecos Billy.doc PHOTO BOOTH: (PECOS) BILLY BY GLAMROCKCOWBOY BASED ON A STORY CONCEPT BY AARDVARK2 (Author's note: I am grateful to Aardvark2 for giving me permission to use his “photo booth” stories as a framework for my own writing. He specifically asked me to include elements, not only of muscle growth, but of overall transformation in appearance as well. Since I am a long-time fan of the “glam rock” and “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's, when I proposed writing stories along those lines within the “photo booth” framework, he enthusiastically agreed. This particular story was inspired by this year's Tournament of Roses Parade. I was deeply disappointed when the major networks deliberately chose not to include ANY of the nearly 2 dozen equestrian units that participated in the Parade in their television coverage, despite the fact that horsemanship, in all its various forms (including rodeo, thank you very much!) is as much a sport as the much-vaunted football game known as the Rose Bowl! Thankfully, the RFD-TV cable network DOES include the equestrian units in its coverage! I hope you enjoy this re-posting!) It was a cold, raw, dismal afternoon in early January as a slender youth got off the bus and hurried through the mall's main entrance. 18-year-old Billy Johannson shivered slightly as he pulled down the hood of his nondescript gray sweatshirt, exposing a lion's mane of rich, golden hair that stretched down to the bottom of his shoulder blades. The face that was paired with those golden tresses, however, while fairly good-looking, was weary and haggard from grief and suffering. Billy's parents had recently been killed when a drunk driver had plowed head-on into their car at over 90 miles an hour. Their insurance had proved to be just barely sufficient to pay off the mortgage on their home. The drunk driver's family had chosen to contest their insurance company's proposed settlement in court. Billy's lawyer had glumly informed him that the trial could be months away due to the current backlog in the court system. As if that had not been bad enough, the IRS had slapped a lien on the house, claiming that they should have been paid off first, despite the fact that Billy had had no say in the matter. Although Billy had already graduated from high school, he had been unable to find a job locally, and, owing to bureaucratic snafus, his matriculation at the State University had been delayed until the following year. Thankfully, his financial aid, consisting entirely of grants and scholarships, was still secure. Even so, Billy realized that, unless a job came along fairly soon, he could wind up homeless in spite of everything. He wandered aimlessly from one end of the mall to the other, looking for any signs that might indicate a job opening of some kind. There were none, however, largely due to the recent conclusion of the holiday shopping season. While there was in fact a fair amount of post-holiday traffic in the various shops and stores, Billy realized that it was minuscule compared to the recent pre-holiday frenzy. Even the fast-food restaurants at the mall had regretfully told Billy that they would not be doing any hiring for the time being. As he passed the large Western clothing store that was his personal favorite among all the shops in the mall, Billy could not help wincing. He had always wanted to be a cowboy—or at least to dress the part—but his parents, who were city folks through and through, had arrogantly forbidden anything of the sort. He paused for a moment and gazed wistfully at some of the fancier items in the window, all now on sale after the holidays. He remembered that the network that had broadcast the recent Tournament of Roses Parade had arrogantly refused to include any of the numerous equestrian squads and units from the Parade in its television coverage, despite the numerous complaints and protests from viewers and cable network subscribers. Thankfully, a competing network was aware of the situation, and had made a special point of doing a special about the Parade, and particularly the equestrian units, many of whose trappings included elaborate, richly-decorated western parade saddles, bridles, and other riding accessories and clothing. Billy, a long-time fan of western parade gear, had fairly drooled over the outfits featured during the program, and so had the friends and schoolmates who had watched the special with Billy at his home after his parents' funeral. Reluctantly, with a sigh of despair, Billy turned away from the Western store's window display, and headed back toward the food court. Since school had just let out for the day, he was not surprised when he was accosted by several of his friends. Aware of Billy's tight finances, they insisted on treating him to a good, solid meal. Billy gratefully accepted their generosity, and sat down to chat with his friends, several of whom were on his own high school's rodeo team. The group chatted amiably about the re-cent Rose Parade and the team's chances of going to the National High School Finals Rodeo in Wyoming at the end of the school year. As the group finished their meal and prepared to break up, each of them in turn gave Billy a warm hug, promising to be on the lookout for any job possibilities for him. Billy thanked them warmly, and then headed back out to the mall's main concourse to make one more sweep for any possible job openings before returning home. In the course of making his way back toward the main entrance, Billy, on impulse, stopped in the mall's major bookstore. As he perused the magazine section, he found several cowboy-oriented magazines. He sat down in an armchair near the racks and perused the magazines rapidly. One of them contained a se-ries of articles about the extravagant parade saddles and vintage clothing styles of the 1930's, 40's and 50's, and even into the early 1960's. Billy shook his head in wonder at the gorgeous black-and-white and full-color photographs and illustrations displaying the works of such artists and artisans as Ted Flowers and, especially, Edward H. Bohlin. Returning the magazines to the rack, Billy began making his way back toward the store's mall entrance. Again, however, his attention was diverted, this time by a book. The volume, entitled, “American Hair Metal,” explored the “glam rock” and, especially, the “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's. Billy was intrigued to notice that many of these bands included articles of Western apparel in their wardrobes, both on and off stage, especially cowboy boots, many of which were custom-made in some of the most extravagant styles he had ever seen. As he replaced the volume in the sales rack, Billy next saw a large paperback that almost made his heart stop. It was one of several works by the late Tyler Beard on the subject of western boots and western apparel. Billy's eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell open in awe, as he beheld the numerous and lavish styles of cowboy footwear within its pages. Then, with a groan of despair, he put down the volume and made his way back out into the mall's main concourse. He was still shaking his head sadly as he passed the mall arcade, which was strategically located next to the mall's main entrance. Unlike many of his peers, Billy was not normally a game enthusiast. For this reason, he might have passed the arcade by without a second glance—except for the sight of an exceptionally large photo booth just inside the entrance. Although Billy had seen such devices before, he had never used one, nor had he ever seen one this big. Curious, he slowly meandered toward it. As he did so, he could not help thinking to himself that this particular photo booth was easily large enough to hold any of a number of musclemen he had seen depicted on the Deviant Art website. One such image in particular came to his mind—namely, a morphed image entitled, “Beach Muscle Dream—N Tribute—Biggest,” by the artist known simply as “noname.” He had been especially attracted by this particular morph from the moment he had first set eyes on it, at least partially because the subject looked as though he were about Billy's own age. As he pondered whether or not he should actually use the machine, another thought came to his mind: What if, he thought to himself, such a teenaged behemoth were also a cowboy—perhaps even a glam-rocking cowboy, with hair and gonads to match the rest of his enormous physique? The very thought of such a thing was so incongruous that it made him chuckle. As he sat down inside the photo booth, and inserted a quarter, for a moment he actually imagined what he would look like if such a transformation ever took place. He actually laughed out loud as he pus his hand on the scanner, with the image of him-self as a super-muscular, glam-rocking teen cowboy still in his mind. Then the flashes began. The first flash not only blinded him for a moment, but almost caused Billy to fall off the machine's stool. “What the--” he began to cry out, then halted in his tracks. His voice had suddenly dropped more than an octave in pitch. Furthermore, as he settled back on the stool, there was enough of a reflection in the machine's camera mechanism to show that Billy was now wearing the biggest, most extravagant cowboy hat he had ever laid eyes on. Furthermore, a rich black satin neckerchief, with long, silken fringe was tied around his throat—a throat that was now the size of a marble column! As he prepared for the next flash, Billy noticed that his face was now considerably handsomer, to the point where he would have every reason to be called a glam-rock “pretty boy,” much like Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran, Adam Lambert, or even a Japanese rock star such as Kamijo of the recently-disbanded “Versailles Philharmonic Quintet.” He was even wearing makeup, in a smoky, sultry color scheme that even included touches of silver and turquoise! A moment later, the second flash erupted. Again, Billy almost fell off the seat. This time, however, he was better prepared for it, and he promptly resettled himself. As he did so, he saw that this time his arms, chest, and shoulders had swollen to herculean proportions, and were now sheathed in a huge, white satin, vintage-style Western shirt. The shirt was heavily embroidered in various western motifs, and was further embellished with rhinestones, sequins, and long, beaded fringe, all of which were in a rainbow of colors. Suddenly, as he prepared for the next flash, Billy realized what was happening to him. Somehow, the device's scanner had picked up on his thoughts—on the images he had conjured up in his mind—and was somehow transforming him to conform to those images. He also remembered reading that, traditionally, a real cowboy dressed himself from the top down when getting up in the morning, even to the point of putting his hat on first! That being the case, Billy surmised, he could next expect to be put into a pair of either jeans or Western slacks (sometimes referred to as “ranch pants”), to say nothing of the enlargement of his legs and gonads. Seconds later, the third flash exploded in Billy's face. This time, he just barely managed to keep his seat. As his eyes recovered, Billy saw that his expectations had been fully realized. His abs, glutes, intercostals, and back muscles were all swelling with incredible power—power such as Billy had never dreamed of. Meanwhile, Billy's shoulders were broadening with lightning speed, until finally they felt as wide as a barn door, and looked that wide as well. Meanwhile, his pectorals were swelling to the size of giant watermelons—so big, in fact, that he could no longer see over them! As if that weren't enough, his traps were now so high and thick that they almost swallowed up his neck altogether! Suddenly, there was a fourth flash, and Billy quickly became aware of a growing pressure in his groin. As he looked at the scanner's mirror in awe, Billy saw his sex organs swelling to an incredible size, while his thighs ballooned outward, eventually reaching the size of giant pumpkins. His calves were inflating, too, finally achieving the size of soccer balls, and then growing even larger, until at last they were as big as medicine balls. Then, as if that weren't enough, Billy saw his glutes swell and firm up into the biggest, tightest, sexiest looking “bubble butt” he had ever dreamed of! A moment later, a pair of rich black leather jeans, lined in equally rich black satin, appeared around his lower extremities, with so-called “keystone” belt loops, covered with silver studs, and a waistband that held a 3-inch wide, heavily-studded, black patent leather belt, cinched in front by what simply had to be the biggest, most lavishly-jeweled oval belt buckle he had ever laid his eyes on, fashioned of gold, silver, and even platinum! It was so huge, in fact, that it all but covered his incredibly muscular abdomen! Another moment, and a magnificent pair of knee-high cowboy boots appeared on his lower legs, in rich black patent leather, covered with gold and silver studs, with super-high, undershot riding heels, needle-point toes, and even platform soles! Then a few seconds later, multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains appeared, hanging from his boot tops, and extending all the way to the point where the two halves of each boot were joined together. As Billy marveled at his increasingly decadent appearance, he remembered that many glam rock and glam metal bands had worn such lavishly-decorated boots and chains, both on and off stage. Only a moment later, an incredible pair of spurs made their appearance. The straps that held them in place were covered with silver and turquoise studs, while the spurs themselves were heavily inlaid in gold and silver. The spinners on the spurs, better known as rowels, were huge, in the old Mexican style, and had two jingle bobs on each side of each spur. To complete the look of supreme cowboy “bling-bling,” each spur had no less than four loops of gold and silver chains underneath the arch of each boot! By now, Billy was shaking his head in wonder at this awesome transformation—but he quickly learned that the machine wasn't done with him yet, for a moment later, there was a fifth flash. As the young glam metal cowboy shook his head to clear his eyes, he gasped in awe as he now beheld a pair of west-ern parade-style “chaparejos” (Spanish for “leggings” or “leg armor”), in the so-called “batwing” style, encircling his enormously-muscled legs. Billy had seen pictures of such “chaps” before, but these were far and away the most lavishly-adorned parade-style leggings he had ever beheld. Not only were the batwings themselves at least twice the size of any others he had ever seen, but virtually every square inch of them was embellished with jeweled studs, conchos, and even chains, in gold, silver, and even platinum! Then, as if to complete the outfit, a few moments later, there was a sixth and final flash. As Billy had halfway expected, this time, a waist-length, fringed leather coat, along with a pair of long, gauntletted gloves appeared. Both items complemented the chaps and spurs to utter perfection, including long, silver-studded fringe, and even multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains draping down from his incredibly broad, gigantically muscular shoulders, extending halfway down his freakishly huge arms! Billy slowly got to his feet, as the strip of pictures came out of the delivery slot. Almost reverently, the young giant, now a full foot taller than he had been before—another 6 inches taller than that, counting the height added by his new boots—picked up the strip of pictures and slid them into his inside coat pocket. Taking a final look at himself in the machine's scanner mirror, Billy swallowed hard as he realized that he was now, in fact, every bit as big as the “Beach Muscle Dream” picture he had imagined. He carefully made his way out of the machine. For whatever reason, Billy felt compelled to turn back toward the photo booth for a moment and whisper simply, “Thank you!” A moment later, he seemed to hear the machine reply, “You're welcome!”--not audibly, but telepathically somehow. As he began strutting and swaggering toward the mall's main entrance—his muscles were far too large now to allow him to walk normally any more—Billy began to ponder how he could possibly make his way home in his incredibly outlandish new outfit without either causing a riot or being robbed. Neither scenario particularly appealed to Billy, although he sensed that his new size and strength would deter any possible robbers from attacking him. Even so, he could not help enjoying his new-found power, to say nothing of the “jingle-jangle-jingle” from his spurs and chains as he headed toward the automatic sliding doors, which opened well in advance of his approach. He was about to head for the bus stop just a few yards away from the entrance when he heard his name being called. Turning on his new high heels, Billy was delighted when he spotted two of his friends from the high school rodeo team. They were brother and sister—fraternal twins, in fact—and were standing next to the most awesome “mega-stretch” limousine Billy had ever laid eyes on. “Need a ride home, cowboy?” Don Jamison asked, a wicked grin on his incredibly handsome face. “Boy, do I ever!” Billy replied, as he hugged and kissed Don and his sister, Jenny. As he joined his two friends in the super-luxury vehicle, Billy suddenly realized that his financial problems were over, although he had no idea how or why. In fact, he somehow sensed that both he and his two friends were now after-tax multi-multi-millionaires. As the limo pulled away from the mall's main entrance, Jenny explained that the rodeo team was forming a separate equestrian parade unit, and invited Billy to join them. “We have a Palomino super-stallion that should be just perfect for you to ride,” she said with a knowing, wicked grin on her gorgeous face. Suddenly Billy realized that he had a parade saddle and bridle outfit back at his house that would match what he was wearing to utter perfection. Instead of his old house, Billy now had a luxury ranch of his own located next door to that of his two friends. As Billy shook his head, wondering how all of this could have taken place, his two fellow buckaroos grinned knowingly. “You just came out of that photo booth, right?” Don inquired. Billy did a double-take as he realized what his best friend was saying. “You guys, too?” he whispered. Don nodded. “We don't know how, and we don't know why that machine does what it does, but we're sure not gonna argue with the results!” “You know something? Neither am I!” Billy replied, as his two comrades joined him in a deep, rich, throaty laugh. He pulled his two best buds close and hugged them for a long moment, then pulled the girl of his dreams into his lap and gave her a deep, rich kiss as the limo pulled out into the early evening traffic.

This is my first story in quite a long time. I’ve been hesitant to share anything on the forum, but this idea struck me the other day and I’ve been working away to try and get it out before Christmas. This part is really just setting the scene, but I promise there’s a big payoff in the next part. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! ___________________________________________ Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real. He of course had reached the same conclusion that many children reach as they grow older: that Santa was no more than a fixture of the season, utilized by parents everywhere to instill the holiday spirit (and ensure good behavior). What many children and parents didn’t realize, however, was that this aging out was entirely by design. Santa may very well be a man with incredible abilities: delivering gifts all around the world in a single night, flying a sleigh led by reindeer, even eating all the cookies and drinking all the milk that children left out. But Santa is after all still a man like everyone else. Sure he’s able to give children presents all in one night, but tweens? Teens? Young professionals? People in their midlife crisis? The elderly and infirm? It would simply be too much. For that reason, Santa works his magic to gradually age children out, allowing him to maintain a more manageable Nice List. Children gradually begin to suspect their parents are behind it all, and Santa uses a little bit of magical suggestion to make all parties involved believe it. But as I mentioned earlier, Santa is still a man underneath that red coat and holiday cheer. And like any man, he can make mistakes. Noah Lawson was just such a mistake. It had been innocent enough, just a last minute flight cancellation and a cobbled together plan for Christmas Eve. His mother, insisting that distant family was better than no family on Christmas Eve, had arranged for him to spend the night at his second cousin’s (more specifically his mother’s cousin) home for the night and then catch a flight the next morning to make it home for Christmas dinner. This would have been more than fine, except that the shuttle from the airport broke down not even a mile from the airport. By the time he managed to get back to the terminal, hail a taxi, and actually make it to his second cousin’s home, it was well past midnight. When Noah arrived that night, he was greeted by a house with darkened windows and a note on the door, barely legible in the warm light from the lamppost down the street. It apologized that nobody was awake to greet him, and asked him to let himself in quietly to avoid disturbing the kids upstairs. The note also directed him to use the guest bedroom off of the living room on the main floor. Noah did just that, quietly slipping in the house, down the entry hall, through the living room, past the fireplace and Christmas tree, and into his room for the night. As he was rummaging in his suitcase and getting ready for bed, Saint Nick was finishing making his rounds of the neighborhood. That last house was, as you may have guessed, the one Noah had just let himself into. Now Santa was generally very good about making his list. He knew who lived in which house, what general schedule they kept, and who needed presents. The list would also update to reflect guests, if someone was awake, and even if he had a chimney to go down or not. Santa was also very good about checking the list. Before he went through a new neighborhood, he would check for any changes on the list or any potential problems with delivery. Most of the time he would even check it twice. But this was not most times, and if it had been, he would have noticed the house he was currently descending towards had a new addition, a certain Noah L, and that said addition was currently very much awake. So as it landed on the roof, Santa’s sleigh made only the faintest of clacks against the shingles, a sound which wouldn’t rouse even the lightest sleeper. But, given that Noah was rather awake, he heard that thud ring out in the quiet house. Noah was a very cautious 18 year old, and for that reason he had visions of burglars rather than sugar plums dancing in his head as he peeked out through a crack in the door into the living room. This position gave him an excellent view of the fireplace as Santa emerged into the living room. If you asked Noah what it looked like, he would tell you that it was as if the fireplace gave a big sigh and blew a bubble at the same time, if the bubble was actually a large man in a red coat. Although Santa’s legs came first, it was hard to miss the large belly that followed, filling up that trademark red suit. The size of the gut wasn’t what surprised Noah the most, though. It was how spry the man seemed to be in spite of it as he went about his work. Pulling a large sack out of the hearth behind him, Santa stood to his full height (almost level with the top of the tree, Noah couldn’t help but notice) and pulled out an armload of gifts. He splayed them under the tree with expert precision, barely disturbing any of the gleaming ornaments. Noah couldn’t help but notice how the thick, cord-like muscles of his arms strained the fabric of his coat a little as he did so. Then Santa strode over to the milk and cookies left on a small tray by the hearth and downed them in a flash, giving a small belch as he finished. “Oof,” Santa grunted as he turned back towards the fireplace, “wish I was a bit stronger. Then maybe carrying this big ol’ spare tire would be easier with how big it gets by the end of the night.” And with that, the fireplace seemed to take a deep breath, and Noah was left gaping at an empty living room with an erection he wasn’t quite sure why he had. Though Noah only heard those two short sentences out of the man, they stuck with him through the next decade. They were in his mind when he decided to study biochemistry and pharmacology at college, when he kissed a boy and realized he never liked girls in the first place,when he went on to pursue his MD, when his gaze lingered a little too long at the burly men at his gym, and when he accepted a position at a well-known pharmaceutical company as a researcher. They were especially on his mind in late July almost 10 years later when he finally perfected his modification of a workout supplement the company was developing to help increase muscle mass and burn fat. It was from that point he began to formulate a plan for Christmas Eve that year, one he was sure both he and Saint Nick would enjoy. In August, he applied for a transfer to the research department in Anchorage. In September, he was approved and began looking for housing. In October, he found an excellent unit in a duplex with a lovely family living next door and moved in. In November, Noah had some problems with the fireplace and had some maintenance work done on the chimney. In early December, he began smuggling his modified supplement out of the lab and storing it at home in a jar innocuously labeled ‘Sugar.’ On Christmas Eve, Noah slid perfect gingerbread men onto a wire rack to cool, counting down the few remaining hours until his plan came to fruition. Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Raf asked as I stripped. "I have to. I plan to seduce Mesh and get him to forget your agreement." I answered handing Raf my shirt, "And to seduce him, I have to get massive." "You don't have to. I can live with being your slave, Miguel. I can even live with being his as well." Raf said as he folded my clothes, "But I don't know if I can share you with him." "Raf, it's you I love. And it is you I want as my lover and equal." I confided to him, "But there are two things stopping that. The first, you're a slave, I could accept that if it was your choice to be one rather than you being pressured into it. Second, as long as you are pumped up like this, we can't be equals. This would eventually cause problems later because you got to experience the fantasy we both share and I didn't. Besides, there's a part of you that wants to see me big and freaky like you are now." "Okay, I admit it. I want us both to be like this and fuck each other's brains out. But to share you with him when you're all big and freaky..." Raf moaned, "I don't know if I can stand it." "Easy, big fella." I cautioned him, "I promise you that you'll be my first. After that, it'll be like it has been the last few months. We both are free to see and bed other men. Neither of us really happy about it but the jobs require it. And that's what I think of this as. Just know that's it you that is my strength and it's you that I'm going to spent my life with. Just remember that." "Miguelino." Raf whispered as tears steamed down his face. Hearing his love-name for me, I knew then that my lover was back. But now was not the time for this. "Raf, wipe your face." I told him, "It's time for the show. Just hold on to our love and you'll make it. And remember, you're supposed to be my slave." "I'm already that in the most important way. If you have to do this, lets get it over with quick." Raf said as he wiped away the tears. I handed him the cylinder and we walk back across the locker room. As we headed back to the Room, I mentally prepared myself for the biggest sales campaign and con of my life. The door to Room opened and in we went. I just hoped Raf could play his part. Time to brace the dragon. "Alright, Gil, lets get big." I said when approached Mesh. "Yeah, time to get pumped." Mesh responded, "Mike, take your cylinder in there." Mesh pointed to a glass booth with pedestal inside. "Stud Raf." I commanded and held out my hand. Thankfully Raf played his part perfectly. "Your cylinder, Most Worthy Master." Raf said humbly as he handed me the cylinder. With the cylinder in hand, I stepped into the booth. I turned around and waited. Mesh pointed to the pedestal. Raf made a motion as if he putting something into the pedestal. I looked at the pedestal and saw an opening on the top. I put the cylinder into the opening and then looked back to them. Mesh indicated that I should place my hand in the opening on the side and I did so. A few seconds later, I felt an itching all over my hand. The doctor was busy beind his console, tapping away furiously. He reached behind him to flip a few switched on panel. Lights started flashing from the console. The doctor continued to tap away, every now and then he'd throw a switch on the panel behind him. Suddenly, all the lights on the console turned green. I watched all this activity in a nervous swaet. When will it start? What would feel like? Has it already started? I kept asking myself. The itching in my hand had stopped. Was that it? I didn't feel any different. Looking at Mesh and Raf, I saw that they were still waiting. When Mesh looked over to the doctor, Raf gave me a thumbs up. I caught the movement of Mesh's arm swinging down in a deliberate motion. I gasped involuntarily when it hit me. At first, it felt like I had jumped into an icy river but then a syrupy, sweet warmth flowed through my body. It was very erotic. Next was the pins and needles all over me, penetrating me. I could feel every part of my body very intently, feel how totally seductive it was. I didn't know it the time, being lost in the sensations, but the growth hadn't started yet. It announced itself very profoundly and flowed from muscle to muscle. The start felt like a great pump you'd get from working out with total intensity. The muscles all full and tight stretching the skin taut. Then the muscles began flexing hard and relaxing on their own, I couldn't move if I had wanted to and I didn't. An orgasm of pain and pleasure washed through me as each muscle flexed and an euphoric high followed as them relaxed. It went through each muscle rythmically and systematically until every muscle had been flexed and then it would pause and begin again. During the pauses, I caught my breath and began to feel the changes in my body, the increasing strength, the heaviness and fullness of the muscles and the feeling of growing mass and power. It was intoxicating, the world no longer existed outside of me. I don't know how long the process had been going on, seconds, minutes or even hours, when I got the first evidence of kind mass I was gaining. My lats pressed against my arms forcing up and out; my thighs pressed my knees and feet into wider stances; and during the pauses I could see the thick shelf of my pecs without tilting my head down. I could see how this could be addictive, I didn't want it to stop. But all too soon, it stopped. My vision cleared. I could feel the immensity of my body. I could feel the power and strength of my superhuman muscles I could feel the raw sexual and seductive aura ozzing from me. Damn, all these sensations were sending me reeling. I was losing control of myself. I looked about wildly trying to find something to anchor myself. My eyes found Raf's awe-strucked eyes. 'Raf. That's Raf there. Raf's my lover and I'm his. Yes.' I thought, focusing my mind, regaining control. I regained control of my senses. Looking at Raf, I saw he was kneeling and his 18" cock was fully hard, leaking a river of pre-cum. His arms hung loosely on his lats and his face a vision of rapture. Looking over to Mesh, I saw that his cock had ripped through his silk pants. He was still standing and breathing heavily as he stroked his cock. The hunger I saw before burnt fiercely in his eyes now and that hunger was directed at me. I pulled my hand out from the pedestal and looked at it. It looked like it was covered with the measels, tiny red spots all over my hand. Holding my hand up to light, I got a good look at my foearm. Shit! It was almost as big as most guys thighs and had really thick veins snaking across it. I brought up my right arm and found the same freaky muscle mass there as well. 'If my forearms were this big, how big was I?' I wondered. I had an urge to start flexing right there, just to catch a glimpse of this freaky muscled bod of mine. I fought the urge and started out of the booth. That first step sent a wave of orgasmic pleasure through me, the feel of my rolling wide around each other and brushing against each other at the mid-step was incredible. I forced myself to keep moving. It took six orgasmic steps to reach Mesh and Raf. I was half-hard when I stood in front of them. I felt something thick and wet impacting against my huge quads. When I looked down, I saw Raf that was cumming and his hands were at his sides. Then I felt a hard 'thrack' between my massive pecs. My cock was now fully hard and its head, the size of a large grapefruit, rose above the shelf of my pecs. I was about to grab hold of this majestic fuck-scepter when I heard an agonizing groan from Mesh. When I looked, I found that he had popped his cork as well. I had to see myelf. If I could make Raf shoot without touching himself, I had to been hot and huge. I looked around and spotted a mirror off to the side. Over at the mirror, it was my turn to be shocked and awed. I was beyond huge. Looking myself up and down, from the side, and what I could see of my back, I checked out each freaky muscle. Starting with my calves, or rather my bull elephants, out habit. Damn, I could rent them out to the MLB, they seemed to be that mammoth, even the flexors for my feet were massive. Next, my thighs, they had to be six feet arond each. The definition between each muscle must have been an inch deep. I was surprised that my legs didn't tear out of their sockets with each step. My package was breath taking. My cock was about two and half feet long and over a foot think with inch think veins snaking over it. My balls hung halfway to my knees. Each ball looked to be a foot in diameter. From what I could see of my ass, it made me wish I could fuck myself. Checking out my abs, I saw three inch crevices outlining my eight-pack, intercostals, serratus, and obliques. My pecs were mindblowing. Each pec was at least three feet across and over nine inches thick. My pecs were so thick that my nipples didn't point down, they pointed back towards my body. My delts held the impression of being able to topple maountains. Each head had to be six inches thick. My traps rose from my delts and disappeared somewhere near the top of my head. I could live with not being able to look over my shoulder. My arms were being pushed forward and lifted upwards by my mile wide lats. My arms rested at a sixty degree angle from my shoulders. My biceps were mountainous and I haven't even flexed them yet. I was about to start flexing to see how big these bastards could get when Raf placed his hand on my arm. "Miguel, please fuck me now." Raf pleaded, "I need to feel you inside me while you smother me with those wonderful muscles." It had beem over a month since the last time Raf and I had sex so his request sent me into sexual overdrive. Instead of speaking to him, I picked Raf up by his thick lats and pressed him against my hard cock where rode between his pecs and mine. Sliding him up along the length of my cock until our pecs were pressed firmly together, the head of my cock sat between our pecs. With Raf's face level to mine, I kissed him fiercely driving my tongue deep into his throat and he responded after a moment of surprise. I didn't realize unitl a short time later that I was now taller than Raf. I lowered Raf to the floor and soon had him on his back. Raf placed his feet under my pecs as I lowered my cock to line up with his hole. I traced the crack of his ass with my cock which sent shivers through Raf. I teased his hole by pressing the head of cock against it and then moved along his ass, Raf waited until I was pressing against his hole when he tweaked my nipples with his toes. This caused me plunge into Raf. It seemed foreplay was over. So, I began to slide further into Raf then pull back only to slide a little farther in. I continued this process until I was fully buried inside Raf. There, I rested, pressing my full weight on Raf. "OH MY GOD!" Raf panted, "YES! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, HARD!" Never one to disappoint a lover. "You got it, stud." I told him as pull back about a foot and drove into him with my full weight behind it. "YEAH! FUCK THAT ASS!" Raf snarled as I pounded his ass, "RIP ME OPEN WITH GIANT MUSCLECOCK! OH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEAH!" "Fuckin A'! Stud I'm just warmin' up." I grunted. I grabbed Raf's lats and stood up straight. Raf was pulled up into the air with half my cock still buried in his ass. I thrusted up and forward with my hips as I stopped holding Raf in the air. Raf gasped for air as my thrust and the force of gracity combined to drive my cock even deeper into him. Raf grabbed hold of my biceps to steady himself. With just the power of my hips and legs, I began to thrust up and forward continuously. Raf slid up and down a foot on my cock. Raf was panting and rambling as I gave him the fuck of his life. I varied the speed of my thrusts, faster and slower, to make this last as long as possible. Raf came violently, covering our pecs and abs. His ass spasmed around my cock almost causing me to cum as well. I held off but knew I was too close to hold off for long. I began to accelerate my thrusts faster and faster until my cock was burning inside Raf's ass. I couldn't hold off any more, I CAME. Raf was forced upwards for about six inches from the force of me shooting. I continued to shoot for several minutes. As my cock finished shooting, Raf slid down to its base, his whole body limp. I wrapped my arms around him and sank to my knees. Our hearts beating wildly, I laid us both on the floor to recover, my cock still hard and buried in Raf's ass. We remained there for several minutes. "Mighty, fine fucking display." Mesh said, "Can't wait 'til we're alnoe together, my giant stallion." Mesh, damn, I'd forgotten he was here. I raised myself up off Raf and looked over towards Mesh. I was shocked at what I saw. Not only had Mesh stripped out of his clothes and jerked off but Dr. Soong-Yang was standing there holding a video camera hold me and Raf. My first impulse was to rush the doc and smash the camera but that would interfer with my plans, besides I could get the tape later. I lowered myself down a little and whispered into Raf's ear, "It's show time again." I eased out Raf and his ass became a fountain of cum. My sex-crazed mind was clear now and I wondered how much damage I had caused Raf just now. Unfortunately, I counldn't show my concern. There was a job to do and it was time to do it. "Stud Raf, on your feet, NOW!" I commanded hating myself while doing so, "I did not gave you permission to cum." "S-s-s-sorry, M-m-master." Raf replied as stood unsteadily before me. "Too late for that." I growled at him, "Now, go clean yourself, thoroughly, and get back here and clean your mess off me and the floor. You'd best not make me wait too long and you'd better be clean, I shall inspect you thoroughly to be sure. NOW, MOVE!" Raf jumped and left the room. It was just the three of us now. I stood there waiting, silently. I was forcing Mesh to make the first move and commit himself. The doctor was a non-player in this game, all brains and science now, he hadn't even wondered why Mesh didn't use the process to match me. I knew why he didn't and knowing who he was, I knew why he was fixated on me. "You command like an the ancient warrior-kings." said Mesh appraisingly, "Just right touch of hard command mixed with soothing speak." "Self-made businessmen such as yourself and I are the modern day warrior-kings." I replied. "True." He said, "Never before have I met my match." He was trying to seduce me with flattery. As a salesman, I had run into quite a number of people who'd try to sweet talk their way into better deals so this particular track wouldn't work on me. I decided to play along. "I doubt that." I stated, "Certainly, there had to be one but since you are standing here, you must have brought him low." This comment disturbed him but he seemed to take it as an off-hand compliment. Further conversation was stopped as Raf returned. He sort of hobbled as he walked, carrying soap, water, and washclothes. I assumed the flexed 'relaxed' stance I've seen bodybuilders take during competitions. Under my breath, I told Raf to take his time and try to be erotic as possible. The look in eye told me that he was going to enjoy it. Raf soaped up the cloth. He began working on my pecs. After working up a good lather, ran the cloth acorss each pec then in circles around my nipples. He did this for quite some time, long enough to get me really horny again. When my hardening cock brushed against his quads, he began working his way down. But he didn't rush the washing of my abs, taking time to scrub each crevice. As he worked his way down to my crotch, I glanced over at Mesh and saw that our display was having the results I desired. Mesh was getting really hot and bothered. I had to breathe deep as Raf began soaping up my cock and balls. His loving attention brought me back to full hardness. Raf was doing his damnest to get me to shoot again, probably wanted to bathe me. I had to order him to finish the job. Raf rinsed me off, with his back to Mesh he silently asked 'later?' and I gave him a wink. Raf went to work cleaning the floor while I stretched seductively and arched my back. My hard cock remained vertical. Mesh was enthralled while the good doctor kept filming. I turned slowly as if I were looking around just to give Mesh a chance to see the full package. When my back was fully to Mesh, I stopped and made an audible 'um' as if a thought had just occurred to me. It was time for another piece of the plan to come into play. Again I started stretching, pretending to test my flexability to allay his doubts. I continued testing body parts until I got to my waist. There I made my stance wider and bent over pretending to touch my toes. Watching from between my legs, I saw Mesh's eyes bug out and his breathing get heavier. I moved over each leg as if I were totally unaware continuing the stretching routine. I finished stretching and continued to check out my surroundings, still maintaining the pretense. Raf had finished cleaning the floor by the time I got done baiting Mesh. I decided it was time for a show of strength and Raf would be the perfect one to help me demonstrate it. I called Raf over to me, telling him that it time for his inspection. Raf stood before and presented himself for inspection. I grabbed him by the waist and tossed him onto my shoulders then began inspecting his feet. I continued the inspection but instead of having Raf present the part of the body wanted to check, I moved or tossed him around as if he were a small boy until the area I wanted see was in view. Frightened at first, Raf soon began to enjoy this treatment. Then I recalled something I had read in a few stories, I moved Raf around until he sitting in my hands. I slid my right further underneath Raf until his tail bone sat in the palm of my hand. I, then, removed my left hand and began curling Raf with my right arm. Raf got hard at this display of strength and began leaking pre-cum again. I set Raf down after losing count somewhere around fifty. I had to Raf out of the room. "Stud Raf. You are not clean as I ordered." I growled at him, "Return to the showers. Wash yourself again and continue to wash until I get you. NOW, MOVE!" I watched Raf leave the room. He didn't need to see what was going to happen next, it would just hurt him. I turned my attention fully on Mesh. I strutted ove to Mesh, no I was more blatant and exaggerated than that. I flexed my muscles hard with each step, flaring my lats out to their widest point as stepped in front of him. "So, Gil." I said, "See anything you like?" "Everything looks great. Can't wait for the test drive." Mesh replied. Before Mesh could make his move, I made mine. I grabbed him by his arms and lifted him so that we were face-to-face. While Mesh was still surprised, I pressed him against me and kissed hard. It took him a few seconds to respond and respond he did. Mesh was like an animal, kissing me savagely. This was not simple passion or lust, it was two supremely masculine men striving for dominance over the other. We stayed that way for quite a while neither gaining the edge over the other. After what seemed an eternity, we broke apart, Mesh pushing away first. 'Score one for the hero.' I thought. "Damn, if you make me that hot by just kissing then fucking that ass of yours is going to be explosive." Mesh stated. Didn't think he'd roll over and play dead. Mesh still was trying to prove he was the alpha male here. Part one of my plan was working, his animal brain was in control. Time to put salt into the wound and up the ante. "Only if I fuck your ass first." I demanded. "Never! I fuck. I don't get fucked!" Mesh steamed. "Then, great warrior-king, you'll have to conquer me. So, unless I fuck you first, that is the only way you'll get my ass." I told him coldly, "Now, if will excuse me, I've some important matters to take careof." I turn and started walking away from him. Mesh stood there fuming, anger and lust boiled inside of him. He took the bait now to set the hook. "Where do you think you are going?" Mesh demanded in a deadly voice. "I'm going to check on MY slave to make sure he doesn't drown himself. I only bought him today and I would like to get more use out of him than just a single fuck." I said as went through the door leaving Mesh shaking in rage. I waited outside the door for a few moments and when Mesh didn't come storming through, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted Mesh hot, bathered and off balance, not a killing frenzy. Fighting for my life isn't what I'd call a successful seduction. Now, it was time to check on Raf. I walked back to the showers and found him lathered up and lovingly stroking himself. I leaned against the wall and admired his new muscled body. Even though I was bigger than Raf now, I still found him incredibly sexy. "Need a hand with that, stud?" I said to him. "What do you have in mind?" He asked breathing heavily. "Quite a number of things actually but we don't have time for all of them right now." I answered, "Do you remember Chet?" Raf and I had met Chet and his boyfriend, Brad, almost a year ago. Chet had a thing for Raf, more specifically Raf's ass. Chet considered himself a macho top, he believed tops only fuck and get sucked and never the other way around. But according to Brad, Chet secretly wanted to be on both sides, giving and receiving. Funny how people screw themselves with how they think things have to be. So, Raf and I basically ambushed Chet. Raf let Chet fuck him while I snuck in and fucked Chet when they were going at it. Chet fought hard at first but he began to enjoy it. After we came and cleaned up, I apologized to Chet for raping him and explained why. Fortunately, he understood and remained our friend. I believed we faced the same thing with Mesh as we did with Chet. That's why I brought up the subject. Unfortunately, with Mesh we were to have a bigger fight on our hands. "So, you're going to fuck Mesh while he fucks me." Raf replied also remembering that time. "No." I said, "You are going to fuck him." "Me?" Raf said in surprise, "Why me?" "Because it's my ass he wants so it has to be you." I replied, "We're going to be breaking several mindsets at once so this is going to be very dangerous. Even pumped up as we are now, we may not be able to finish this." "We can do it. We're bigger and stronger than he is. Plus, once we start, he'll give in." Raf said confidently. "We can only hope but be prepared for him to fight fiercely, anyway." I said. "So, what's the setup?" Raf asked. "Oh, you get to shove this up my ass." I told him as I grabbed his cock, "But, first, are you alright? I forgot how big I am now." "I'm fine." said Raf as he massaged my glutes, "I've been getting fisted for the last two weeks. You're not much bigger than the guy's arm." "Looks like you've got some stories to tell when we have more time." I said as I laid down on my back, "But, for now, fuck me." Raf's answer wasn't in words. Slipped down in between my legs and plunged his face between my cheeks. Raf soon had me squirming as he rimmed my ass with long muscle-tongue. My cock got hard and rested on my granite abs. My cockhead throbbed as nestled in the canyon of my pecs. Then Raf began tonguing my prostrate. It took a moment to realize just how much Raf had changed, his tongue had been long enough nor strong enough to reach my prostrate before. Raf stopped tonguing my ass and raised my legs as he got to his knees. "Ready to have your muscle-ass fucked? Cause here it comes." said Raf as pushed his cockhead into my ass. I had relaxed my ass muscles as much as I could to handle his, now, larger cock. I was surprised when he slipped in easily. I experimented a little and tighten uo my ass muscles a little. "Um, that's better." Raf cooed as I tighten up some more, "I know he's not hung as I am but I was afraid he had fucked you too loose for this to be really enjoyable." "We didn't fuck." I told him as continued give his cock little squeezes with my ass. "What? I thought that was why you sent me out." Raf responded as sank the rest of his cock into my ass. "Nope. I cock teased him and came to you." I said running my hands over his thick muscles, "I left him standing in a rage." "Surprised he come after you." Raf said as he began to slow fuck me. "He will. But lets have some fun before he gets here." I told him as I tweaked his left nipple. Raf gasped and then began to fuck me with long, slow strokes. You don't know what heaven is until you had at least 10 inches of hard throbbing cock rubbing against your prostrate. I pulled Raf's head down to mine and kissed him deeply. Raf kissed me back without missing a stroke. Soon Raf was pistoning in and out of my ass with pleasurable regularity. Just as we were starting to get real hot and heavy, Mesh made his presents known. "So. I have to conquer you but this slave can do you at any time." Mesh ranted, "We'll see about that!" Mesh rushed into the showers with a raging hard-on. He grabbed Raf's left arm and pulled him out of me then threw him back. He quick took Raf's position between my legs and plunged his cock into my ass. He began to fuck me with hard, violent thrusts. "I teach you to deny me. You're going to be my bitch." He ranted on. I saw Raf standing behind Mesh. It was time to hold Mesh down for Raf. I entwined my legs around Mesh's and pulled them wide, at the same I wrapped my arms around his torso and pressed him into my chest. To ensure his staying put, I clamped down hard on his cock with my ass muscles. Raf then did unto Mesh as he had done unto me. Mesh thrashed around like a madman. When he couldn't break free, he screamed out in a long dead language. His body began to vibrate and then his muscles began to grow. I yelled for Raf to hold on to him tight. He continued to grow until he was larger than Raf, his growth stopped shortly thereafter. His size was somewhere Raf and me. Again, he began to thrash about, trying to break free. It took all our combined strength but we held Mesh. I told Raf to start stroking slow. Mesh tried to resist but surrendered when I began sucking on his nipples and massaging his cock with my ass. Soon Mesh was enjoying it as was Raf and myself. I found from the bartender later that the sounds of our little orgy was clearly heard below and started an orgy there as well. Soon we all reached that joyfull and inescapable conclusion and we separated. "To be taken by a mere slave," Mesh moaned, "How can live with this?" "For one thing, Gil. Raf's not a slave, he's a man." I told Mesh, "Raf's my equal and lover, always has been and always will be." "Fine for you, you've got each other. I'm alone as always." Bemoaned Mesh. "You don't have to be." Raf said. "Yes, I do. I don't have an equal or a lover." Mesh responded. "You do, now." I replied. Both Raf and Mesh looked at me questionly. "Raf and I are lovers so in a sense we are one." I explained, "And tooked the two of us to take you so that means we're your equal. So, the three of us are equals." "That makes sense in a weird way." said Raf. "I grant that you are my equals but I am without a lover unless..." Mesh replied. "You guess it, my great warrior-king." I answered. "What?" Raf asked confusedly. "You know who I really am, don't you Mike?" Mesh asked staring at me accusingly. "Yes." I stated simply. "Miguel, who is this guy, anyway." Raf asked. "Raf, may I introduce to you." I said as I bowed grandly, "The great warrior-king, Gilgamesh the Warrior Eternal."

Michael woke up hugging his son from behind. Clothes were prohibited in the experiment so his hard dick was poking his ass. Disgusted he took his arm away and turn around to look at the ceiling. His son and him never had a good relationship. When his mother was alive the little wimp was always with her. It is not that he didn't try to have a good relationship with him. But the thing is that every time he wanted to go fishing with him or for them to play football, his son never wanted. Also there was the masculinity thing. When he was young and even now people always told him how masculine he was and how big he was. With lots of hair that covered his big pecs and huge arms, his 23cm fat cock and muscular definition he always assumed his son would be like him. A stud. But when Nicholas grew up to be a wimp, with a soft jawline and no hair at all, he was quite frustrated. The thing that bothered Michael the most wasn't that his son was small, but that the only thing big that he had was his butt. He looked like a woman. Mike had to hear his friends “jokingly” saying that he looked so much like a girl that they would fuck him. Now he was lying on his bed, with his morning wood looking to the ceiling, wondering what was this experiment about. His son turned around, still sleeping, and put his left hand on top of his dad muscle chest. Mike closed his eyes, Barbara was there besides him. He turned around, facing his son still with his eyes shut. Then he opened them. Nicholas looked different. He didn't know exactly what was different but something certainly changed. He looked a little bit bigger, maybe it was the poor lighting but his shoulders seamed a little broader. A thought flew quickly through Mike's brain, maybe his son was finally growing. His son hand travelled from his chest to his muscle ass, Mike felt a shiver. ____________________________________ -Hello dad- Michael was cooking completely naked while gently dancing to no sound. -You know that the shower doesn't work there is only one of us?! This fucking rats, they can even pay water for two showers! TWO!- His father seemed moodier than usual. -the pills have arrived, we have to drink them together- Michael placed two plates filled with bacon and eggs. They both sit at each side of the table. Little glasses that contained two pills sat on the table, one said Nicholas and the other Michael. Nicho grabbed his cup and opened it. This time the pills were different. The one that was previously light blue was now triangular and had a deeper ocean blue colour, and a white pill was also added. He looked up and saw his dad had the same white pill but also a deep pink circular pill. -They warned me that the white pill was full of hormones. Side effects included constant “excitement”- he said as he looked down at his cock trying to express what he meant to his son without talking. Nicho understood perfectly. They both eat their breakfast and approached to the mega computer. The scanning began as the day before. -Subject one: Nicholas. Male Male, 1,81m tall, 65kg, muscle development 7%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: mild , Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 15cm erect, anus:not sensitive- Both father and son stood shocked to discover that Nicholas had gain 3cm, 6kg, and 3 cm of cock in less of a day. Michael glanced at his son and indeed he look bigger, and more masculine. He prepared to say something but the machine started talking again -Subject two: Michael, Male Woman, 1,86 cm tall, 87kg, muscle development 50%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: Mild, Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 18 cm erect, anus: midly sensitive- A cold shiver ran through Michael’s body. Maybe he was expecting to grow like his son or maybe was the fact that he only now heard that the computer had said “Male Woman”.what did that mean? -WHAT THE FUCK?- He shouted, he had lost 3 cm in one day, 13kg, and 3 cm from his cock in one day. He wanted to cry, and he had already taken the second pill. In the screen appeared a new position someone was in all fours, and the other guy was behind him, pressing his cock to his ass. He turned to look at his son that smiled and made a gesture with his hand like asking him to be the one in the floor. Michael got really angry really fast, he wasn't a woman. He wouldn't bend. Angrily he walked towards his kid and punched him in the stomach. Nicholas lost all air and bended because of the pain, that's when Mike blind by anger and shame hit him hard in the face. Nicho fell to the floor his nose was bleeding. Mike took the opportunity and grabbed his son by the waist and got him into position. Nicho tried to walk away but Mike with his stronger body hold him down and hit him in the back. -I AM THE MAN- He shouted as he grabbed his son's ass. He saw his erect cock, much smaller than before and got angry again. He was going to prove it. He was bigger, manlier than his son. Nicho felt as his dad's unlubbed fat cock entered his virgin ass. The pain was so big that he shouted a little bit. He was still confused by the punching and blood was running from his nose, but he could still feel his dad penetrating him. One thrust, two thrusts, Mike was getting faster he slapped his son's ass very hard. -You are my bitch, YOU ARE MY MOTHEFUCKING BITCH- Michael continued raping his son. Nicho could feel his father's cock stretching his ass with a lot of effort. He was a beast, fucking him like an ape. His son started crying and that only got him hornier. HE WAS THE MAN he thought HE HAD THE RIGHT TO FUCK THIS CUNT. Michael’s cock exploted inside his son’s asshole. But almost no cum came off. Suddenly he came back to reality. His son was bleeding in the floor, about to pass out and he, his father and only parent, had just raped him. -You wanna shower?-

You Can Stop - Part Two (with a big thanks to ShreddedFreaksLover and FitnessBel for their assistance in the couple of statements I needed in Spanish. And to Phoenix27 who also offered to help.) by F_R_Eaky Part One: Part Two [rattle rattle rattle crattle rattle POP hsssssssssssssss] "No... no no no no no no nooooo NO!..... DAMN IT!" Ted pulled his car over to the side of the road but let it coast for as long as it could, including a turn off onto a slightly smaller street. "Why... WHY?! Why didn't I take a flight? Why did I decide that a two week trip across the U.S. would be a relaxing vacation?" It was the middle of June, just before summer started, and Ted was taking a couple of week's worth of vacation to celebrate his birthday, abroad on a scenic car trip of the United States. Truth be told, however, he was actually taking it to avoid contact with Cris, his best friend in the whole world. Over the last couple of years his friend has gone through some physical changes. Radical changes to say the least: a drop of 150 pounds of fat that his body seemed to then turn and inflate into more and more muscle that just seems to keep piling on and swelling ever thicker and harder, he's become just over two feet taller, his feet have grown up twenty-eight and half sizes, and he has a cock that appears to be growing out of him like some kind of natural, flesh made fire hose. "Awww fuck!" Said Ted exasperated. Shakily one hand went to his forehead while the other went to the waistband of his pants. He needed to undo them quickly to allow some room as just the quick thought of Cris made him spring wood as hard as the petrified forest. "I'm a top.... how can I be a top when I know someone who's almost two feet taller than me and is growing into the hulk?!? And how is it happening to him? Even late bloomers just don't suddenly grow two feet...OVER two feet in just over two years. It's not done.... it can't happen that way. It's medically impossible! His organs can't develop fast enough. He should've collapsed. The human heart doesn't function well anymore once you get past a certain large size. He was my best friend... my little best friend. I enjoyed being his protector....his guardian.... his close fantasy. I know I was. I was the closest thing he had to a really big...BIG! MAN!..... When we had friendly good-bye hugs, I could feel him twist and squirm so I wouldn't feel his growing erection in his pants. He was Cris.... he was Crisito! I was the big man. I WAS THE BIG MAN!" Ted shook even more violently. He was dealing with conditions and emotions he didn't like, he didn't want to face, and his plan to run away for his birthday, he now realized backfired completely. "Oh....SHIT!" Looking around, he realized the little stretch of road he was on, he vaguely recognized. His car's check engine light having come on, he got off the highway at the nearest exit and hoped that problem would be a quick fix. But now, now something as popped and he could smell the radiator fluid leaking out. Where was it he pulled off and into? He originally wasn't sure. He wasn't exactly paying attention. Recognizing the street and area he's on, however, made him understand he's pulled off near Cris' town. Getting out of the car, he popped the hood open , looked, and confirmed at least one of his fears, He'd blown a hose and possible the cap to the radiator. Even if he could get replacement fluid, there's probably a good guarantee that it will leak and he'll need to replace the radiator, if not something else as well. Leaving the hood open, Ted opened the car door and sat back down inside, after rolling the windows down. Pulling out his Android he started to look up local towing and repair shops. [toof toof toof... toof toof toof.....toof toof toof....] Ted began to hear a sound. He wasn't sure what it was at first. In fact, he shook his phone and cursed at it, thinking it might be trying to go out on him like his car was. [Toom Toom Toom.....Toom Toom Toom....Toom Toom Toom...] "What the hell is that noise?" [THUMP THUMP THUMP!] This time the sound was not only right upon Ted, but went right past him, and suddenly, as he turned his head around to look out the back window, the hood came slamming down, his car's front end rose up, and poor Ted was nearly tossed into the back seat. "Auuuuuh!.... Not quite the right grip!" a somewhat deep and sexy voice said. Ted looked out the front window as the car went back down, only to see the backside and bubbled ass of a giant bodybuilder, power lifter, or some such. The man's back and shoulders stretched out wider and wider than his tiny string tank top. His traps threatened to pull the straps off and away from the main fabric of the shirt. The sides were stretched out and pushed down by a thick flaring set of lats which were pushing a pair of arms sporting the largest tricep muscles Ted had ever seen. Those tris were above a massive set of forearms that looked as big as most men's upper arm. Well, that would be if the man attempting to hoist up the car was the size of an average man. Framing the lower back, the forearms only served to accentuate how tiny the man's waist came down to from that expanse of back and then back out wide again from the two granite boulders that made his ass, and the columns of pure tightly strung power that were his thighs, the pair of which stretched and strained the nearly paper thin workout shorts hidden underneath a very large pair of basketball shorts that would probably be pants on average sized men. This giant squatted down and grabbed the front of the car once again and then stood up, every muscle of his arms, shoulders, traps, back, butt and legs, moving in harmony, bulging in use, becoming larger by the second as the veins that fed them became engorged with blood. The bellies getting bigger and bloated, beefier and harder, defined and denser. Letting out a primal kind of scream as he got the front of the car raise up off the ground, the man's neck suddenly flared out thicker and wider, threatening to become as wide as and take over his head, and pushed his traps, delts, and back, even wider out. Turning his head to the side in order to call out behind him the giant stated hushed in deep rumbling tones, "It's okay, sir. My name is Cris. Put your car into neutral and I'll pull it down and off the road to my house. Then I can offer you the use of a directory, phone, and something to drink, if you've been out here for a while." It took Ted a couple of fumbling tries to get the car out of gear and he was erupting in his pants. The sound, the registering of Cris' rich, honey coated, but firm and strong voice into his ears sent a jolt from them down his spine, around his ass, and drove straight into his balls, the touch of which took his breath away and caused him to fill his underwear to capacity. It took about fifteen minutes to jog the car down the road, turn onto the next, and then into the driveway of Cris' home. Along the way, Ted marveled at how easily this seemed to be for Cris. There were a couple of small breaks, some heavy breathing to be sure, but still, no other man could do this without popping a vein or snapping his back. What's more the amount of speed Cris could generate while towing this car. As they were now in his driveway, Cris squatted down and put the front of the car onto the ground, and then turned around to address the driver. "There we go. Now you can rest in a shaded and air conditioned pla....Oh my Gawd! Ted! How are you?" Ted got out of the car and then turned to face Cris, his jaw going slack as he did so. Looking straight on, Ted knew he was looking about where the second row of abs would be. This meant that his head, the head that topped his six foot three inch frame, only came up to somewhere between that second row of abs and the bottom of Cris' chest, which was hanging, rounder, wider, fuller, thicker than ever. Ted slowly raised his head up and up in order to his friend's face, but it was becoming slightly blocked by his friend's own pectoral muscles. "It so good to see you! What a surprise!" and Cris pulled Ted into a big old bear hug, engulfing Ted in his oversized arms and planting Ted's face into the valley crevice of his chest. Ted began to fight back, to kind of punch Cris' arms and obliques trying to break free. "OH....MY....GAWD!" "TED! TED? Ted, it's me.... it's Cris." Ted backed off a moment and stared at Cris. Then he shook his head as though to clear his vision. "Cris..... CRIS! Oh my gawd.... this... this you!?" "Yeah.... are you okay? You seemed to be fighting for your life there and all I was doing was giving you a hug." "Just I didn't physically recognize you....right off the bat that is. You've....it.....growth..... Happened again did it?" "Uhm... haha.... yeah. I'm getting huge... HUGE!" "Uhhhhh." "Ted, are you okay?" and Cris stepped forward to catch his best friend. "Yeah... must be...the heat." "Out there a while were you?" "Yeah, you could say that. And uhm, sorry... part of recognizing you now is by voice and...." "I KNOW, RIGHT?!" "OOhhhhh" "Whoa! Better get you inside, you're looking very faint." "....that voice...." "Yeah, I know. A few more steps down and I'm going to be wallowing in the depths like James Earl Jones, Alan Rickman, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Sam Elliot." and Cris laughed deeply. "Oh auuugh huh huh huh auuuuugh huh huh huh huh...." "Ted? Ted?" Cris slightly bent over and with ease picked up Ted, two handed, and draped him over his shoulder and held him like one would a small child. After carrying him into the guest bedroom, Cris went and got a wash cloth, ran it under cold water, and applied it to Ted's forehead. This brought Ted too almost immediately, albeit a bit groggily. As his vision cleared from coming to, he looked up and could see the great torso and head of Cris' body looming over him from the side of the bed. He knew part of it was due to the angle of his vision from laying on the bed, but still, even taking that into consideration, Cris looked absolutely huge. He filled the room, with sheer presence if not physical actuality. "so....friggin'....big...." "I know, right?!? I'm getting huge, Quick rundown of the usual stats so you have an idea of where I am right now. So.... prepare yoursel.... well, that's kind of stupid as you're already laying down. Alright.. whoooooooo..... okay, so get this..... I am.... eight feet five inches tall. My upper arm measures twenty-nine inches around, which if I was your height would be twenty-one and half inches. Can you believe that? I mean look at these arms...." and Cris stood up and did a front double bi pose. "I'm becoming like an Olympian! My arms both in real numbers and ratio wise have gone over the twenty inch mark! It's fucking incredible! And with the rest of my muscles as strong and developed as my upper arms, it means that I weigh in at a 636 and a fourth pounds, or just over 260 pounds if I was only 6' 3" tall." "You're too...." "I know, Ted. I know I've grown absolutely huge and all, and there is a lot to be worried and scared about, but I keep coming back from every test healthier and healthier, bigger, broader, thicker, denser, harder, taller, stronger.... I'm feeling better and looking more defined and cut as well as larger every day. Seriously, what's wrong with this?" Cris did a most muscular pose this time. "Too big... Cris you're...." "And get this... things were becoming too small for me at work. Neither a desk nor chair to fit my frame. Hell, even the cubical was becoming too small, so I had to quit that job. I wondered what I was going to do to earn money, and then I get approached by of all people, the manager for the Harlem Globetrotters. They're the ones who gave me my latest height measurement. I'm going to be working as one of the giants on the team. And get this, they wanted to come up with something better for me as a nickname, because when Paul Sturgess was playing for them he was known as 'Tiny.' I'm nine inches taller than he was. Can you believe that? Just the other day I was only an inch taller than him and now I'm nine inches taller." "Just an inch...taller..." Ted hoarsely whispered. "What's that? Well, at any rate since, I'm nine inches taller than 'Tiny' was so my name had to be worse so to speak, so as part of the Globetrotter's roster I'm now Cristóbal 'Mini' Espino Maclérigo, Cris Espino for short. They're the reason why I was out jogging on the road. I'm in training. I needed it. They couldn't believe someone my size had no basketball experience. When I told them what was happening, they explained they had good insurance and would help me get connected to the world's leading authority on growth issues. As long as I'm with them, they're helping me find doctors, furniture, clothes.... SHOES! Shoes, because a twenty-two inch long, nine and a fourth inch wide foot needs a size US Men's 44 shoe. And I get to hang around a bunch of guys that doesn't quite seem like ants to me. Plus I get to train. I get to work out and lift and train my body to maybe even get bigger. Think about it? With my voice lowering, and my body developing thicker hair and hair in more places than I had it, they think I'm going to stop growing soon, but it is possible I could match Robert Wadlow or at least come in at a close second." Those last few words rang in Ted's ears and head. He'd be a close second almost as tall as or as tall as Robert Wadlow, the world's ever tallest man recorded. "You can stop. YOU CAN STOP!" Cris got that tingly feeling all over his body again, twice, but he took no notice as he was wondering about his friend's reaction. Ted was now sitting up on the side of the bed, then standing up to approach Cris, only a step away. "You should stop! You keep thinking this is great and wonderful but you're doing it all wrong. You're still with doctors who told you one, two, three spurts ago you were almost done. Now you're almost three feet taller than what you were. THREE FEET TALLER, CRIS! Your internal organs can't be developing fast enough for this to support your ginormous body, yet, but you decided to go out and do work outs and running, cardio exercise when your heart could be too small to support your body doing things like just waking up, let alone a work out." "Ted! What the fuck?! Where is this coming from?" "I'm just worried about you and you don't seem to be taking true care of yourself. Look, I don't mind you getting all huge and powerful on me here, but you can't go out and start flexing all that muscle until you're sure you're done growing. It's great being the big guy, the strong man. I get it. I understand. It's also one of your biggest fantasies. But if you don't really think about what you're doing, it could all be just an instant, a flash of a life that's taken away forever." "Dios mio, Ted!" "Cris...Cris.... .....ito" whispered Ted under his breath. "Look, what I'm saying is just slow down a bit. You don't know if you're done growing outwardly or inwardly yet and you need to be cautious until you do. For the now, relax, take supplements, do light workouts, save the super human, super-hulk acts until you know your insides have caught up to support this body. Don't cause it to burn out so quickly after becoming this. Let yourself slowly develop into it so you not only get all this size you like, but can enjoy it for many, many years." "Oh!...oh..oh...hahahahahahaha...Ted...." and Cris reached out and bear hugged Ted again and held him, cradling him. Ted's body pressed against his torso and between his mammoth thighs and super boat feet. "Ted....Ted....mi amigo...hermano....my Tedito. Are you this scared for me?" Ted breathed a heavy sigh. Cris just called him Tedito. Diminutive suffix. He appears small to Cris now. Yet, as he is engulfed in the arms, chest, and legs of this giant man, as much as it makes his blood boil that to Cris he is the small and ever shrinking man, part of him, is becoming more aroused towards Cris. The bigger Cris gets, the hornier Ted becomes and the deeper his desire is developing for his once short, small framed, high school friend. He knew he'd need to act the part right now, his car needing to be repaired. He'd tell Cris his reaction was due partially to the heat, partially to being exhausted from the drive. He would tell him that his company realized they made an error and allowed him the time off to be with either family or friends. He would then leave when the car was finished, saying he needed to leave to ensure he was able to get home and back to work on time. **************************************************************************** Six months later Ted was sitting in the living room of his family's home in Spain for Christmas. He was having problems sleeping so he got up and went to his Grandfather's study and turned on the television to see if he could catch the broadcast of some US late night show from the night previous. Finally he settled down upon one. [applause] "Alright, welcome back, welcome back. So if you weren't with us before the break, you missed seeing a small demonstration of regular and comedic basketball skills by the world famous Harlem Globetrotters. They have freshened back up a little and changed and we'd like to welcome them back now. Please welcome, Cristóbal 'Mini' Espino, Alishia 'Jupiter' Joiner, Stephan 'Slapshot' Terrence, and Eirik 'Velocity' Van Laren." [applause] Ted sat up in the couch a little upon hearing his best friend's name. He was quickly placed into shock however as soon as the team members came out, receiving not only applause but cat calls and whistles from the audience members as well. And it was no wonder why. Although they were in their public speech or interview uniforms, the fact of it was they were all not only tall and good looking, but Cris' shirt barely came over any part of his shoulders and the hem stopped half way down his abs. Even without that visual done on purpose to help strike up conversation, Ted could clearly tell Cris was not only taller, but even bigger and buffer than before. The quartet of players allow Alishia to sit in the chair closest to the host while the other three sat on the couch, Cris actually squatting down upon the arm rest, which had the audience members oohing, awing, and laughing. Even sitting up on the raised arm of the couch, it was still low enough that his knees were up and away from the couch about twice as much as any of his teammates, his tights bent upward. The audience, now, also got a glimpse of Cris' pants, not only nearly looking painted on, but coming up short, stopping at mid calves. If that wasn't bad enough, one look at him and one could tell his back and him could take up about three fourths of the couch width himself. His thighs pushed one another and made him sit in an exceptionally wide stance. His lats were taking on a w appearance and pushed his upper arms, which looked like bowling balls, up and out at an angle almost parallel to the floor. "Welcome, players, welcome. I guess the first thing I should help state and explain is that you four are just representatives to the program here this evening. That is, you do indeed play for the team, but that there are many more of you than just you four." The players looked at one another before Eirik smiled and said, "You take it Alicia." "Uhm... that's right. The roster for the Harlem Globe Trotters is actually enough to field about three teams so that we can cover and show support for more events across the country and the world." "And with just you four we have not only a tremendous amount of diversity of athletic prowess and skill, but also of various backgrounds. Within you four there is Caucasian, African-descent, and Hispanic-Latino race, there is not only male but female players, and not only American born players but African and Dutch players as well." "That's right. Obviously of course, I am one of the female players." [OOOOW!] "Yeah! GIRL POWER!... hahahaha.... and Cris here, despite his looks and what folks think Hispanics and Latino's look like, he's one of the Hispanic-Latino American players we have, and he and I are from America, while Stephan is from Trinidad, Eirik is from the Netherlands. And our larger roster for the three teams are all just a diverse. The organization originally started to help out and encourage minorities to get out and be active, take pride and part of the community, strive to do something, and we still do. The roster has grown and changed over the years to reflect the various things and statements we stand for. The Globe Trotters men and women of all races, country of origin, language spoken. We recognize the game is being played and watched by humanity, not just a few select or chosen people." [applause] "So you go around the world and you play, you entertain, you give speeches, why? What after all these years are the Globetrotters trying to achieve?" "Well, the Globetrotters over the years have sponsored and supported several outstanding charities and camps for children and families. It's all about one having a good, clean, fun filled time of entertainment, and two, bringing various causes to the front of society's mind to support and help them. One of the newest one's is the B.I.G. campaign, B.I.G. standing for Battling Inaccurate Growth patterns." "And how did you guys come to support that organization?" "Well... " and Alishia looked towards Cris, "I would again think that obvious." [hahahahahahahahahahaha] "I'm thinking there might be a tie in here. First let me ask you, it's said that the Guinness Book of Records is helping sponsor and promote the upcoming year's worth of scheduled events. How come they're doing that?" "I think that should be state by my teammate down there, Cris." "Alright, Cris, can you tell us about this sponsorship? And I should mention at home for some of the folks that some of you player's nicknames are meant to be oxymoron's, such as is the case here with Cris whose nickname is 'Mini.' Why is that, Cris?" "Ah haaaa.... well I'm kind of the answer to all three of the questions. My nickname is mini because I'm not only the tallest player on the current roster of the Globetrotters, but I'm also the tallest player of all time in the Harlem Globetrotters." "That's right the tallest was Paul Sturgess, and you are nine inches taller than him. How tall was he." "He was seven foot- eight inches tall." [whoooooa, wow, oooooh, aaaaaahhh] "But I should say that fact about me being nine inches taller isn't true any longer." "Isn't true, what did you grow?" "Yes." "You've grown since you joined the Globetrotters?" "Yes." "How old are you?" "I just turned twenty-five last June." "And so you're now how much taller than seven foot-eight inch Paul?" "I'm one-foot three and a half inches taller than Paul now." "One foot.... woha ha how.....That makes you..." "It makes me Eight feet - eleven and half inches tall." "Wow that's half a foot since you joined!" "Right, and that's why we're supporting B.I.G. and Guinness Book of World Records is supporting most of our events this up coming year. I originally started out three years ago at five-foot eight inches tall and have grown three feet three and half inches since then. I've had doctors looking at me, testing me, doing research, but they've not come up with a reason as to why I'm just growing and growing. I just happen to be lucky that everything is growing at a decent, constant, and proportionate rate." "I...let me tell you, I'm not sure about proportionate there. Your feet are huge. What size.... you know, they joke and say people with big feet have boats for shoes but yours would have to be..." "They'd pretty much be equivalent to the world's largest cruise ships." [hahahahahahahahahahaha] "So do you know if you've broken that record?" "Yes... At the start of the year they're going to take my measurements, confirm, and present me with certificates for breaking the world's tallest man in history, because I beat Robert Wadlow by .4 of an inch, the world's biggest hands, feet, and shoes, and I'm also going for the world's largest arms." "Wow....Your whole body is just busting out and breaking all kinds of records. Are you getting used to all the attention your height and size brings?" "It was a little difficult at first, but uhm....OOOOOoooooooomphhhhhha!" and raised his left arm in front of his teammate Eirik's head and did a biceps pose. "I'm getting used to it." "Good gawd! Look at that! I think... can we get a play back on that? I think your arm just obliterated your teammate, Eirik's head from view! You look freakin' incredibly built, for a tall man, of any height of tall. How large are those upper arms of yours and how much do you weigh?" "Well to answer your previous question, first, my shoes are a size 46 quintuple D which means my feet are twenty-two and two thirds inches long by just over nine and half inches wide." "Good knight! It must be murder finding shoes!" "They're all custom made. As for my weight and arms.... my arms are thirty-three and fourth inches around, which to put that in perspective, if I was only six foot three inches tall, my arms would be just over twenty-three inches." "Good....gawd....Why aren't you competing in bodybuilding? I bet you'd take that title as well." "Actually I am, but I'm announcing that on a separate program than the Globetrotters." "And what was your weight?" "Eight-hundred eighty-three and a half pounds." "WHOA! I could just ask questions of you all night, but I need to head to commercial break. Anything you and the rest of the teammates would like to say? Alishia?" "Shout out to my lil' girl, Tanya. Merry Christmas and Momma loves you, now mind your daddy and go to bed!" "Stephan." "I'd like to say hello to my fiancée, Rhonda. Love ya, baby. See ya soon. Happy Hanukah" "Eirik?" "Hello to mum & dad and the whole family as well as everyone in the Netherlands, especially Amsterdam! PROOST!" "Finally Cris...haha aka hahahaha 'Mini'." "I'll shout out to all my family in Puerto Rico and Spain - Quiero mandar un gran saludo a toda mi familia en Puerto Rico y España. A mis abuelas y abuelos, mi madre, mi padre, mi hermano mayor, Mateo, que cada vez está más pequeño y pequeño , y a mi hermana Catalina. Os quiero, ¡Feliz Navidad! And one more shout out to mi amigo mejor, Ted. Hermano, que esta cada vez más pequeños, tambien. Saludos!" "Ok! What he said. We'll be right back with the band, Madrigal!" Ted sat there breathing deeply, shaking, trembling. Cris' voice was lower. He was even bigger and bigger built. Cris just told him via television that Cris' brother was getting smaller and he was getting smaller, as well. His vision started to white out. His hand holding a glass began to shake and spasm. His cock sprang up and down, inflating and deflating, becoming hard and soft. His free hand quickly grabbed the remote control and began flipping through the stations looking for something to calm him down. "......and welcome back to the Howard Stern show. So if you're just joining us in the last spare minutes of our program... SHAME ON YOU! You're too fuckin' late. Or perhaps not. We had a big guest on the show today, a very big guest, in fact in about a week's time he's going to be declared the biggest fucking man of all time by the Guinness Book of World Records. It's Crystalball..." "haahahahahah Howard!" "I can't say it all. It's your name. Introduce yourself, and you know what, if you don't mind go ahead and throw your middle name in. For Christ's sake, the American government is so dense with all its forms and ignorance of other name practices in the world it's not like your people even have the chance to actually put your entire name down without having some unworldly senator looking at you like your some kind of freak, so go ahead, say it all and say it proud!" "Cristóbal Eduardo Espino Maclérigo." "My gawd! What a name. I couldn't get that all out. I'd sprain my tongue. Wouldn't I, Robin." "Hmmm that's right. True that." "But let me tell you, it sounds so fuckin' sexy. Almost all Latino names are like that. They sound so exotic...so....... hawt! I tell ya, if I had a name like .... Espiritus Sancta there...." "Howard! ahahahahahah!" "Well whatever it was, my plain Anglo tongue can't wrap around it, but I tell ya, if I had a name like his, my tongue would've have wrapped around four times as many women in my life as it did." "So a total of four then. hahahaa!" "Robin! Ouch.... do you feel the love, Cristóbal. Do you see what I have to put up with every day at work? And she's not just a coworker, she's a friend! But any rate before we wrap up the program... I warned you I was going to do this, Cris. You're getting honored for your body breaking several records: world's tallest man, world's tallest bodybuilder, world's biggest feet, world's biggest hands, which if you didn't catch earlier, Cris is eight feet eleven and half inches tall - that's .4 of an inch taller than Robert Wadlow whose record height was recorded the same year as his death, 1940, so subtract that from this year and that's how long this record has been held by Robert and not broken. Anyhow he's 8' 11.5" tall, he wears a size 46 quintuple E because he feet are absolutely fuckin' huge 22.66" long by like 9.25" wide. His upper arms are 33..25" thick, as in big around. That means his upper arm is as large as most average height men in America, or in other terms it's only two and three fourths inches shy of being exactly three feet thick. Because of this incredible super human build on him he weighs and astounding 883.5 pounds! But we've got one more tale of the tape to do. One that the people of Guinness World Records won't touch..." "Oh nooo..... nooo.... Howard...." "No... no... I warned you I was going to do this. I've asked this of all the men who taller and bigger than I am and you are the biggest out of all of them. I've seen pictures of you, your outline of IT, running down your pants or shorts leg...." "aaaauuuugh, come on...." "No... no... you're the biggest man in the world, soon to be proclaimed, and I want to know, American wants to know." "Not all, America...." "Oh come on, Robin. You know they are. You are!" "I'm different... I'm a woman." "Yeah? Well I know something about Crystalball here that you don't. It won't matter how much woman you are because Cris swings the other way. But the question is, 'Exactly how much IS he swinging the other way?' Americans are perverts at heart. They want to know deformity either for intellectual, curiosity, or shock factor. So we've got the people who officially measured Jonas Falcon's penis here, as well as Mr. Falcon himself, wave hi, Jonas..." "Hey..." " and we want to know, World's Tallest Man, World's Tallest Bodybuilder, World's Tallest Homo... are you also the World's Biggest Man Down Under?" "Auuuugh...." "Are you willing to let these people measure your dip stick?" "I...I don't ...." "I'll haunt you forever. No matter where we are, where you go, and you're going to be a hard man to hide, you know this, I will hound you and ask you until you reveal all. My listeners want to know." "Alright...alright I'll do it, but to paraphrase Susan from the TV show Coupling, 'I present this penis as a protest.'" "HAHAHAAAAAAA Presents his penis a protest! Nowhere else in the Radio world will you hear a proud and sanctimonious penile statement like that, folks." "It makes a great tongue twister for warm up before you go to work on one too.... present penis in protest...present penis in protest...present..." "HHAAHAHAHAHA ROBIN! AW GAWD! We're all goin' to Hell as soon as the broadcast is done folks. Into the basket, press down, no passing go, no two-hundred dollars. Ok... so, Cris... if you step right over here. This'll stop anyone from seeing it if they walk in. And can you give us an idea of what we're going to see? Do you have a teeny average size penis on an giant body, do you have a fairly large sized cock on a giant body or do you have a giant cock on an average size body?" "Uhm.... I kind of have a cock that's almost the percentage bigger of the average penis as my body is bigger than the average body." "Really? You're not shittin' me?" "Nope." "You're that fuckin' hung?" "I'll let your experts measure and see." "Ok...first... are you completely soft? Totally flaccid?" "Yep." "Ok... then if you're willing, drop trou!" "Hmmmm ok...get my shorts over my bubble butt.... and ....." "OH MY GAWD! JESIS H.... The man is the first bipedal donkey folks. You....well.... I we'll need to see what it is in a second here.... team what you got for Mr. Softy?" "Thirteen and one fourth inches long." "Good...night....Cris! Cris! Do you have any boyfriends who live to tell others what you're like in bed? I mean you only have to grow during erection one fourth of an inch before you tie Jonas Falcon in size! Jonas, I think you're goin' to have to pass the crown over. Ok...Cris, now I want you to put on those headphones there. Yep..... ok thumbs up if you can hear the things playing on the computer monitor in front of you." "Sure I can....OH MY!" "I hope they're the kind of guys you like, Cris." "Oh...no...not here in pu....OH!....OH! OH! OH!..." "We've got something on all monitors, Cris. Just sit back and enjoy the show.... Because we're goin'.... holy shit! Robin, are you seeing this?" "How can you not help but see this." "Folks his penis is stretching and inflating rapidly to a much larger size. Cris, how the hell do you not pass out during sex? Still rising...still growing..... Someone needs to go back to the timer controls on the recording and playback to see how long it takes to stiffen up. Wow. That is just... out there! It'd be a third leg when it gets done, folks. It's so fuckin' long and thick. It's tryin' so hard to rise up, but the length of it and the weight of it is causing it to instead just stick straight out and hover and bob in the air like some kind of flesh made crane arm. Ok... I think that's it... good night the amount of blood needed for this..... Even before I hear the results I must stand and give you and mother nature an ovation for this DNA combination. Team do we have the results?" "Yes...21.25" "Good night... twenty-one and a fourth inches long! He's just shy of having a two foot penis! What the hell would that be if he were my height?" "About fifteen and a fourth." "Fifteen and a fourth inches! And what if I were as tall a Jonas there. How much more would he be packing than his thirteen and a half if he was hung like Cris?" "He'd be just under thirteen and three-fourths." "Just under... well Jonas it seems like even proportionately Cris has got you beat by almost a fourth of an inch. And what if he still is growing? Good gawd, Cris. You make love, you're going to kill someone with that thing. You have a boyfriend?" "Not right now, no." "Well, if you did, I wouldn't know to say if he was a lucky or an unlucky son-of- a bitch. HAHAAHA... anyway, thanks for sharing, and over sharing per my request. Good luck to you with your time with the Harlem Globetrotters and in finding clothes and everything that fits. Speaking of... God Bless in you finding a partner that can handle THAT thing. It'd be like that horror movie Anaconda right there in your own bed! Alright, alright, we need to get out of here for today. Thanks for listening to the Howard Stern show we'll....." [CLICK.... ..... ...... ..... .....Crrrrrrack crash!] The glass Ted was holding in his right, shaking hand began to crack and fracture and finally shattered in his hand. He remained there almost all night, his vision blanking out to white noise, his hand bleeding into what was left of the cup and milk he was drinking, his penis going back and forth between extremely limp and flaccid and exceptionally hard and spewing cum. ************************************************************************** It's June. It has been just past a year since the last time Cris and Ted have seen each other, which was suiting Ted perfectly. Despite Cris having once been his best friend, it was becoming far too confusing whenever he was around him. It was too confusing with just the sight of him. The crash of emotions ripping through Ted's mind he simply couldn't handle in his life right now. Fear and worry over what was happening to his best friend of so long. Would Cris be alright physically or would these growth spurts suddenly turn on him? Jealousy over the fact that Cris was becoming far taller, stronger than he could ever hope to become, which then lead to feelings of inadequacy about his masculinity, his able to protect, his dominance. He's never wanted to dominate Cris before though. Why did it seem so important now that he should be on top? It was because despite the fact of them never showing an interest in each other beyond friendship before, despite having had tons of relationships with other men, it meant within Ted there was a yearning to be with Cris for every part of the day. A passion to be with him that keeps growing as much as Cris was physically growing and more the bigger, the stronger, the more virile Cris gets. A lust to feel that power whether it would be being able to take it for himself, or feel himself physically over come and engulfed by it. Too many new emotions. Too many old emotions changing. Ted has keep his head buried in work all this time, only being out and about now because he won a competition without meaning too. The corporate heads not only gave him the vacation trip, they ordered him to take it. Luckily for him his flight to Las Vegas was already arranged with the trip, there would be no need to drive through the Midwest where Cris lived. He spent the first couple of days exploring a few of the various casinos, actually managed to win one-thousand dollars at one table. Today however he decided to make a day of shows and this afternoon's fare was going to be Cirque du Soleil's new show, Variations (Toutes Choses Grandes et Petites), Variations (All Things Great and Small). The show was a wonderful display of acrobatics, trapezee, rope, and silk artistry, as well as fantastic side show acts, songs, and dance. It occurred to Ted that the title and theme for the show, Variations, had to be because the settings of each act took the audience all over the world: Japan, the United States, Ireland, Italy, Norway,... However he soon realized, the names of the places were all connected to fictitious or mythological stories from Lilliput and the Pryor Mountains to Brobdingrag and Jötunheimr. Ted's heart began to race. They had everything separated into little people: gnomes, fairies, leprechauns, and big people: giants, Cyclopes, and the like. He began to get the shakes. "No!" Thought Ted to himself. "He is not here, and even if he is, I will keep control. I will remain composed. He won't know that I'm here. No need to be near him." He breathed much easier when Cris didn't show up through the whole program. Traveling back to his hotel, Ted managed to spy a sign advertising a charity wrestling event to support cancer prevention research, being held by and between the American, Wrestling International Foundation and the Mexican, Loco Lucha Libre, in which a team from each group would fight over a charity belt and title. Ted thought "What the hell. why not?" to himself and when he got back to his hotel called the number on the posters to see if there were any tickets left. There were and he ordered one and even placed a bet for the Loco Lucha Libre team when asked if he cared to place one. "This should be interesting." Ted chuckled to himself. "These things are more drama than a soap opera than athletic competition." After dinner, Ted made his way to the Arena and waited in his seat surrounded by rowdy, raucous, people who were chanting and screaming for their teams. Soon the arena lights dimmed except for the center, the spot lights came on, the loud, blaring into music came on, and the announcer came down from the ceiling with microphone in hand. "ARE WE READY TO THRASH AND BASH?!" The crowd roared extremely loud in high anticipation. "The let's welcome, first, the American team, The American Eagles!" Again the crowd roared such as to nearly drown out the announcer's words. "Member number one standing six foot one inch tall and weighing in at two-hundred and fifty one pounds.....Jack Necca!" [RAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!] "Member number two, standing six feet four inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred and sixty-seven pounds..... Jameson!" [RAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!] "Member number three, standing at seven feet even and weighing in at three-hundred and fifty pounds.......Joe Nathaniels!" [RAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!] "Member number four, standing at six feet four inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred sixty-five pounds....... Reg Romany!" [RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!] "And now let us welcome to arena, the team for Loco Lucha Libre....but before I introduce, I should let everyone and the American team know.... as this is a charity event, the boards of both organizations decided to make it a challenging and special event. The four man American team will be fighting a one man Lucha Libre team. Worry not, those of you who have placed bets, it will not be as one sided as it may seem. Introducing to the ring, standing at a towering nine feet six inches tall and weighing in at a staggering one-thousand fifty-three pounds, El Oso Masivo, The World's Tallest Man and World's Tallest Body Builder ...Cristóbal... Eduardo... Espino Maclérigo!" Ted suddenly sat up and forward in his seat. The audience became a mixture of laughter, boos, and chatter of disbelief over the stats listed by the announcer, but then Cris came walking in ducking everything used to make the contestant archway as he stood at least head and chest above it, and the crowd fell silent. Striding in wearing black wrestling briefs that did nothing to hide his enormous bulge, so it was assisted to cover by a Roman gladiator skirt of leather straps, his feet were covered in a modern twist of the Roman sandal and a boot. He was popping and bouncing his exceptionally hairy, mounding pectorals as he walked down the aisle, occasionally doing crab shot poses and growling loudly. Walking up the ring steps sideways so his huge feet could fit on the steps he hit the top and then without thought simply stepped over the ropes of the ring. No assist, no push down or pull down by him or any other person. At his height he could simply step over them as though they were toy size to him. As the American team balked and stammered, Ted could hear the ring side announcers begin commentary. "I don't think the American team is liking this, and why not? Look at the size of this guy! He had to turn sideways for his feet to be able to go up those stairs." "True, but the real question is why didn't he just step from floor to ring top? I'm pretty sure this guy can do it. He's a giant!" "And imagine if he does a kick to one of the other guys? I've just been handed some other stats on him... his shoe size is a US size 46 quintuple E, which means his feet are twenty-two and two thirds inches long. That's almost a two foot, foot!" "And not just the size of his feet, but remember and imagine it being powered by those legs.... I mean the man's thighs, no a single thigh, looks like it is bigger around than any of his competitor's waists, maybe even their chest!" "Those thighs are apparently fifty-two and half inches around. That is just slightly bigger than Necca's chest measurement. Ungodly!" "And just think about getting arm slammed or picked up or choke held by the arms of that man. Those upper arms are almost thirty-seven and three-fourths inches around!" "That...that... is hard to put one's mind around." "Well let's bring him down to our level, so to speak. If he was say a moderately tall guy, say six foot three inches tall, his upper arm would be just over twenty-four inches around. He's got the build of Mr. Olympia competitors." The match started and it was clear that the American team was going to have to gang up on Cris in order to have any chance at winning. This was made apparent when as seven footer Joe Nathaniels squared up and off against Cris he only came half way up Cris' abs! Jack, Jameson, and Reg all hovered around Cris' navel. What an odd show. Joe bounces off the ropes to perform a clothes line to the front of Cris' things and just goes bouncing and flipping off as Cris' thighs were immoveable. Two of the guys jumped Cris' arms who then stood up to full height and proceeded to flex his massive guns as high as he could form the peaks. Between the increase in muscle/arm size of the peaks and the hair on his arms wicking off sweat, it didn't take too long before each wrestler had to break their hand or arm hold on Cris' arms and drop to the floor. There were a couple of times where it looked like numbers might have the advantage. Joe and Jack providing a distraction, Jameson and Reg clasped wrists and bounced off the ropes to deliver a two man clothes line to the abs of Cris. It knocked the wind out of him, a little, but didn't really stop him. Joe turned at one point and kicked the back of Cris' knees bringing him down on one knee. However things soon turned back in favor of Cris, who showed he could easily throw off the four men, even if all were on top of him. In fact, a couple of times it almost looked as though the breakaway shrug had sent one or two of the American team over the ropes. The crowd was thoroughly entertained and spent a lot on donations, food, drink, programs, anything they could get their hands on for this most excellent match. After an hour and a half, with an intermission, of roaming and bouncing around that ring, the team signaled Cris it was time to end it, and they agreed to end it with him as the crowd was just going wild over him. Cris managed to let them know he'd studied some wrestling moves and could do this spectacularly, if they let him. Agreeing, Cris had them fly off of him after a four man pile up that came to a possible pin and count of two. Then one by one Cris got them to bounce off the ropes, take a clothes line from him, which practically knocked them out cold, but then he picked them up, hoisted them above his head, and body slammed the first one onto the floor, the other three on top of the first guy and then each other. One hand however remained under the American member's back so it took the brunt and shock of the slam, not the member's back. The crowd going wild after Cris placed a finger tip onto the chest of Jack Necca and held him and the other three under him down for the count and the ring of the bell, they began to shout out "OSO! OSO! OSO!", "CRIS! CRIS! CRIS!" or a combination shout of "CRIS...TÓBAL.... CRIS...TÓBAL.... CRIS...TÓBAL...." The ring announcer pulled up a ladder and stood on it to help raise Cris' hand in victory and was still pulled off of it by Cris' hand. The four American members left by various means: Joe was carried off in a stretcher with an oxygen mask, Reg was supported and quasi carried by his usual two teammates in regular wrestling matches as he stumble-walked out of the arena, while Jameson and Jack were assisted to walk off by their wrestling wives. They had waited for Cris after all had left the arena, but due to what happened next, contacted him later to thank him for a great match and show, as well as blush and nervously exclaim how wild and thrilling it was to actually be picked up by someone, without having to do a choreographed jump assist, and flipped over to their back. They were mind blown to say the least. But the reason why this happened days later was because the broadcasting company had an idea that went slightly askew. They decided to pull out a supporter of Cris' from the audience and interview him while bringing Cris up from behind to stand for pictures and sign autographs for the fan. Fate decided to throw in an irritating ripple into this part of the event for the fan supporting Cris that they chose, was Ted. Actually Ted had taken bets on and was originally only supporting the "lucha libre" team, but as the switch was made, he wound up thus supporting Cris. An unaware Ted was pushed towards an interview area, interview holding his back, while stuffing a microphone into his face. "This is Mandy Kinpata here at the epic Wrestling International Federation and Loco Lucha Libre's charity event where we've just seen that massive giant, Cristóbal Eduardo Espino Maclérigo, who chose the ring side name of El Oso Masivo, take on four men to win this champion charity title. We're here with one of his fans. Tell me, sir, what is your name and why did you support Cristóbal this evening?" "My name is Ted, and I didn't support Cris this evening." "But we have your winning ticket stub for betting on him to win the fight." "No, I was betting on what I thought was going to be a representative, Latino-Hispanic team for Loco Lucha Libre." "Well, aha...even though the team turned out to be only one man, Cris, it was still a spectacular match, and him coming down here to help support such a great cause, that has to make you a great fan of hi....." "Nothing has to make me a fan of his, Mandy. Look he has a big heart for charity causes, but in real life he doesn't look out for the important things, he's irresponsible with his health, and he doesn't think abou....." Before he could finish what was probably going to be a long tirade against Cris, Cris had come from behind and hearing him, reached out with an arm, grabbed Ted, and hip carried him back to the locker room. "Well.... apparently Cris has an enemy of some kind and the world's tallest man didn't take kindly to it. He's drug the non-fan off to the back. We'll see if we can get in and cover what's happening." Most of the fan crowd and then the arena administration crowd made space and made it quickly as Cris stormed through with Ted on his hip. He stopped briefly to open one of two double doors to his room, which was a grand viewing box hurriedly turned into a dressing room as the regular dressing rooms were all too small for Cris. Shoving Ted inside, Cris the unhitched the other door, twisted, bent, and turned to get his massive frame through the double doorway before standing up to full height, puffing his chest up, and addressing Ted while closing the doors behind him. "What the hell was that about?" "About you. About all ... all this! What the hell are you doing? It's obvious that you've still been growing and you need to be careful how much exercise and exertion you put on your body until they stop your growth or can ensure you're healthy enough to compete regardless thereof." "Oh come off it! There has got to be so much more to it than you're worried about my welfare, health, and safety. You were fuckin' giving me a character assassination out there!" "No.... not really.... I'm talking to abs here. Do you realize I'm talking to abs? YOUR abs? I used to talk to the top of your head. A few more inches I'll be able to do that again, except it's going to be your lower head not your upper one." "Dios Mio! Lay off about my cock..." "No! You fucking looked obscene out there in those trunks, and those strips of leather only highlighted that you're packing a five foot soft cock! What kind of message is that to send to kids?" "I don't have a five foot cock. It's only three feet." "THREE FEET!?!" "Well, thirty-six and half inches, but only when fully erect. It's a bit smaller when soft. Proportionately, I'd only have a two foot long cock if I was your size." "ONLY A TWO FOOT..... FUCK YOU, CRIS! You just don't see.... you're so blind at how you're body is growing and morphing into a freak of nature! At my height or at your height, who the hell are you going to fuck with a two foot cock?!" "Ted!" "You've not taken this seriously. You're not being cautious. Hell you've thrown caution to the wind. And you don't even think of the safety of others. What would've happened if your heart wasn't able to support this gigantic body while doing all those moves? Forget you dying alone, what if you died while falling on top and pinning one of the other wrestlers? One thousand pounds of dead weight resting on top of him. People can't survive under that, Cris. You could kill a man without wanting to like they did in old days to torture confessions out of them by being pressed under weight." "For fuck's sake, Ted...." "You should go to the doctors and tell them they needed to remove your pituitary gland or something. There should be hundreds of treatments but you really haven't sought them have you. Now you're so big, you really can't live in this world. You're a foot and half taller than most rooms, you're like two-thirds the maximum amount of weight most elevators can carry, not like you could stand up in them. Your toes can't even navigate steps your feet are so big. And these muscles.... getting ripped is one thing.... achieving a trainer's or gymnast's type of build is great, but this.... any more muscle mass and you won't be able to bend your arms. You won't be able to jack off that giant flesh tube of yours. You just don't seem..." Cris interrupted Ted suddenly by stepping in his way. Flexing his left arm slowly right in front of Ted's face, Cris made sure to cause his bicep to rise and peak very slowly, showing off its definition, its size, its hardness and density, its squirming veins. "Madre de...!" "You like it don't you?" "Grow up, Cris!" "I am. I am growing up. Bigger... Hmmmmmph....Stronger.....rrrrrrrrrrrrr.....taller.... oooooooooh......and more hung every day. And it's killing you, isn't it?" "Shut up!" "You just can't take it that I grew up to match you and then surpass you. That your once small, weak friend, is now suddenly so big he can not only take on a man your size, but take on two...three....four.....five.....maybe six or ten.... AT THE SAME TIME! HOOOOOOOOMMMMMMPH!" Cris was performing a series of classic bodybuilding poses as he said this. It made Ted blush and flush hot, so he turned away, but not before there was the sound of fabric lightly tearing and then fully ripping and suddenly from under the leather straps of the gladiator skirt shot out Cris' three foot cock. "MY GAWD!" "You can't take it that I've become more virile than you. That with one load I've probably got enough cum to impregnate a town...... a metropolis!" and Cris flexed and bobbed his erect cock. "I've got enough cum to blow up a man's ass and make it spew out his mouth! .... ..... ..... And you actually....secretly want it....don't you?" "You...." "I what? Say it..... SAY IT! It's what you've wanted me to do, supposedly, all this time since I first grew two inches! You don't really care about me and my health, otherwise you'd be hearing what I've told you. I'm getting checked out by doctors. They've tried several treatment options. They can't tell why I'm growing or what will stop it. They only know that I am growing and that everything, despite what medical knowledge and examples and testimony says, is working fine and normal on me. No deformations....no break downs....I'm healthy as a horse...." "A TROJAN HORSE! YOU'RE TOO FUCKING BIG! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND!?!" "Yeah.... I'm a Trojan horse...a big huge vessel with no real substance inside me. You want me... you know you want me.... You're own fucking cocks gives you away. It's tenting your pants, right now. As we scream at each other. I'm going through something I can't explain. It's scaring the hell out of me. It really is. As I watch the world around me get shorter and shorter, smaller and smaller, tinier and tinier and then I realize, it's not getting smaller, I'm getting bigger. But then the question becomes will I become too big for most of it...any of it....all of it? Am I doomed to become this man that eventually grows off the face of the earth and my force winds up pushing it off its axis and orbit? "I could've used a friend during this time. Someone to stand beside me and tell me things would be alright. And if that friend of so many years found himself attracted to me...he could've told me. Let me know, so that maybe.... just maybe....I would've told him I had been falling for him. Falling for him years ago. And even if there were problems trying to figure out the physics of how to make love between a now supposed six-foot three inch runt and whatever I became.... .... ....I could've had the chance of having a love during this time. A love to support me. A love that once was and could still be at the same time my best friend. Be he couldn't admit that could he. He couldn't submit to being the smaller guy, even though he could still act the top with me." "You....can....." "Knock it off, Ted!" "NO! YOU CAN STOP! YOU.....YOU CAN.....stop..... you just need to listen to yourself, hear what you're saying. You need to take care of yourself better. You need to visit the doctor's more. Quit telling me I'm on a binge here. You can get your feet bound... there are drugs for your bones, shots for your organs and muscles, to get this under control... you just need to..." "Ted...." "YOU CAN STOP! YOU CAN STOP! YOU CAN STOP! YOU CAN STAHHHAHAHAOP!" "You're right Ted. ... ... ... I can stop. I can stop trying to deal with you. I can stop trying to get you to accept me. I'm just trying to live my life while they figure this out. You don't want me to do that. As such... I can't live my life with you involved in it." Cris felt that odd tingling sensation he frequently got around Ted the last few times they met and hung out. This time however the sensation felt about six times stronger and as it coursed through his body he turned with a primal yell and kicked the metal double doors open and off to his make shift dressing room. "rrrrRRRRRRRRRAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" SLAM - CRASH! "You can stop, Ted. I don't want to hear any more of your denials and bullshit. As a friend I've prevented the door from hittin' ya where good Lord split ya. There will be no photo opportunity, no autographed pair of trunks for you. Get out, and if you ever find yourself somehow in my moving circles...keep quiet and don't let me know you're there. You've shrunk while I've grown, in more ways than just physical size, and you've become too small for my attention." With that Cris took out his android phone and very easily snapped it two, symbolizing that he was getting rid of Ted's phone number and contact information. Ted shook and trembled for several minutes and finally exploded. "YOU ASSHOLE!" WHAP! Cris' hand flew out backwards and smacked Ted not only across the face but face down through chest as well, Up he sailed a few feet into the air, across the room, and out the open doorway. It took him a couple of minutes to regain his composure. Everyone in the hall, the reporters, the camera men, the other wrestlers waited allowing him to do so while they shook off the shock of the bursting door and then Cris' anger. Then, Ted got up, stumbled, regained balance, and quietly left the building. The reporters' nose for news kicked in and they began to attempt coming through the empty doorway and bombard Cris with questions. He turned rose to his full straight as could be height, puffed out his chest and lowly and slowly commented. "Ladies and Gentlemen, of the press and otherwise, despite my breaking the door down, that was a private moment. If you really feel the need to find out about it, you will have to ask later. You can see where this is a good idea because right now...." He picked up the metal bar that was originally between the two double doors and bent its ends as though tying the bar into a bow. "I don't feel like discussion right now." And he dropped the metal bow in the doorway. **************************************************************************** "Awwww cmon' man. Itsh the middle of the night...und itsh gotten fuck-(hic) cold here in Orlando." "It's not the middle of the night, ya bum. It's cold here because it's February, and this ain't Orlando. Closest fucking metropolis is across the river, St. Louis. Get out of here. You're stinking up the place and pissing off my customers." "But I need shomethin'...jush a little d'nashion to get shomething t' eat?" "I know what you'll eat. I know why you sound the way you do. Because Martha two doors down has pity on you like she always does and gave you twenty to go get a hot meal and instead you walked into Sparrow's Liquor and bought a bottle. For Pete's sake, man. It's only noon!" "Well shen, I could ushe shome lunsh." "That's it... I'm done. Gary! Walk him out of here." A man that was about six foot five, three hundred pounds, filling out a t-shirt and black suit jacket beyond capacity, walked over to the man, stated, "C'mon buddy. It's not happy hour as of yet, and even if it was, you're not making the boss happy.", and pushed the man out the back door and into the alley. The man stumbled and fell, then picked himself up and walked right up to the back door, put his face on it and yelled, "BASHTARDO!" He walked away mumbling to himself, "Esh moo...moo...moouy grande bashtardo.....no....bashtarda...." and then sung in a high pitched voice, "My llamo es Gary y soy una bashtardita! hmmmmaaaa fucks you!" This was Theodore James Wentworth the Fifth. A man of great renown and respect, via his fancy sounding name only, now. After his last encounter with his best friend, Cris, things did not go well. He still couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened to Cris, how Cris was going to live, what his place could ever possibly be in Cris' life, and how it would fit in with his desire to be like he was in most of his relationships, a dominant top. He still couldn't accept his growing feelings for his friend. He couldn't accept the humiliation he received from Cris at their last meeting, especially the fact that the beginning and ending of that story was caught on digital recorders and broadcast all over t.v., cable, and the internet. It cause his mind to wander, his work to suffer, and thus his life to degrade. Eventually he lost his job, any money he had saved, his house, his car. He took to begging and wandering here and there, hoping he could once again make it if he hung around where his old job was in Orlando. Problem was he took to drinking and being in such a constant state of inebriation was prone to pranks of high school and college boys who played the practical joke of getting him snookered and then driving him to a town two hours away. Thus began his life of traveling across the United States. Only one group had some pity on him and did him one slightly good favor. Knowing his mind and life was pretty much gone, and that perhaps family lived where he once was based, after finding he did have his ID in a coat pocket, they took him to an all night tattoo parlor and got that ID information tattooed on his left shoulder. Was a good thing too, as he lost the ID two pranks after. Now he was somewhere in the Midwest, although his mind told him that he was still in Orlando. But the town he was in had a wonderful park that contained several structures for extreme biking and skateboarding, as well as miniature golf. Finding that the door to the windmill was unlocked and that the inside of the windmill was large enough for storage, he crawled in for his evening nap, praying that the structure would keep him warm enough to survive the night at least. ... .... .... ..... ..... The next morning Ted woke up in a luxurious, four post bed with satin and silk sheets. The sun light streaming through the window not only blinded his eyes but made his head feel as though a street jackhammer was working inside his skull. His head began to bob as his stomach began to complain and gurgle and soon he was over the side of the bed and puking directly into a prearranged, plastic bag lined, waste basket. Within minutes of the dispelling of the last amount of liquor in his system, a butler came striding through the door, looked down with his eyes only, at the waste baskets, and then stated in an eloquent, perfect pronunciation, Southern drawl, "Ah.... I see sir is up." He then walked briskly and floating like, as if he were being dragged on wheels, to a wardrobe where he got out a bathrobe and some clean clothes. Holding the bathrobe out to Ted he announced, "His Honor, the Mayor of Fallen Brooke, will be with you for lunch. He is currently in his study working off several items of business before he will see you. Until then, you are to make yourself available for use of this bathroom here, and then you may change into these clothes. We had them tailor made for you. ... ... .... As well as one can for such an emaciated form." "Were are my clothes?" "Those rags were properly disposed of; burned faster than Sherman did Atlanta." "I want my clothes!" "You can wear them again come Ash Wednesday! You are to go take a bath right now." Ted said in exasperation under his breath, ""Escucha, bastardo. En mi ropa estaba mi credencial, así que tráemela antes de que te rompa la cara, capullo!" The butler looked at Ted and cocked his right eyebrow at him. "I said, 'I need to have my clothes searched for my I.D. and I would prefer to choose my own replacement clothes, please.' For those who don't understand Spanish.'" Turning and opening the door to the bathroom, the butler looked sternly at Ted and replied, "Entiendo perfectamente español : mexicano, puertorriqueño, panameño, y español en ambas formas formales y coloquiales. Mis padres estaban casados en el momento de mi nacimiento, por lo que no soy un bastardo. Conozco varias formas de artes marciales, manejo de armas , y mi último trabajo fue en el servicio secreto, por lo que definitivamente no se vas a romper la cara. Puede que sea un agujero de culo, pero usted es todo un culo." "That last phrase doesn't make any sense in Spanish." "No, but it makes perfect sense if you speak English." "But I do and that makes no..." "I might be an ass hole, but you are a whole ass. As in all, total, completely encompassing...ass. Você compreende? Comprenez-vous? Ti comprendere? Vy ponimayete? Begrijp je dat? ¿Comprendes? ” Ted said, looking down at his feet. "Yes..." "Y en español." "Sí,... ... ... totalmente." "Es muy bueno. And might I suggest, sir, that when you pick up the soap to wash, you begin with your mouth. Any language is best spoken...cleanly." Ted took the towels from the butler very red faced and proceeded to walk into the bathroom. "Well... aren't you a knowledgeable...." "I have no problems in punching you in the mouth and addressing you as 'Señorita Puta' during your stay here." "...person...." Ted walked into the bathroom and shut the door. After about two hours in the tub, the first hour used to soak all the dirt and grime off, Ted put on the set of clothes. It is amazing how much an attitude can change after washing a couple years of dirt and grime off of one's body, and the booze out of one's system. Opening the door the bedroom called out to the butler. "Uhm....Butler? Sorry, I don't know what to call you as I was kind of mouthy and didn't allow you to tell me. ... ... ... Hello?" Looking around the suite he saw no one was there and so he went to the door he saw the butler come through and opened it up. "Hello?.... Mr. Butler....whatever your name is? I'm all clean and done....and uhm a little less sassy right now. Hello? Jeeves? .... well, okay, maybe a little bit of sass left." Stepping out he saw a magnificent foyer that was probably two maybe three stories high. It was interesting architecture. Sure there were columns and such but there were so tall, so big, for a home foyer, but the thing that drew most attention was the odd front door entrance. There were two double doors the opened in to show off the front porch, but the area they were built in looked like another giant set of double doors. The bottom two inside corners we made up on the real doors people use. At the top of the wall that was made to look like the two smaller doors were a set a big huge windows that mimicked the shape of the windows in the proper doors. The difference was the small windows in the proper doors were heavily frosted while the replicated ones above were crystal clear letting in as much sunlight as possible. Being the afternoon now, the windows flooded the foyer with sunlight. Ted stood there basking in the warmth, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. "I don't know who this mayor is..." thought Ted, "But I need to thank him greatly. It has been a long time, too long, since I have been sober. This is all like I'm waking up from some nightmare and into a golden world. HUH!" Ted opened his eyes for just a moment thinking maybe he had died and this was Heaven. Growling from his stomach let him know this was still Earth and that he was not dead. He wasn't sure where to go from here and figured he'd wait for the butler to come get him. Closing his eyes again, he bathed in the light of the sun beam and continued to breathe deeply. PAD PAD PAD PAD PAD PAD "hmmmm" thought Ted. "Something is making a decent thump. Must be some kind of machine going off somewhere." THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP Ted swore he might have felt vibrations that time with whatever the noise was. The instinct of fight or flight was beginning to well up in him. He made the decision he should make a break for it and run back to the bedroom. DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! It was too late. Whatever it was had come up behind him, almost right behind him. It was close enough the vibrations through the floor nearly knocked poor Ted down. He was glad he was still standing in case he needed to make a break for it, but for now fear held him and he closed his eyes tightly and thought to himself, "Perhaps if I stay still, whatever it is will not see me or will mistake me for statuary." The next thing Ted heard was a laugh and a voice that was so deep, yet full and mellow, it sent ripples of vibrations running over his brain, down his neck, and into his chest and lungs where they continued to bounce for a few minutes after he stopped talking. The tone of this voice just dripped masculinity, virility, sex appeal and poor Ted's cock, despite his malnourishment as of late, sprung a full, rock hard, woody in his new pants. "Ted?!... Ted is that you? Dios mio, Ted you look so freakin' thin! I'd say I should get you some water, but I think you should have a soda of some kind, help add the pounds back on you. Well, compared how I'd look to you know, you'd probably expect me to hand you a Pepsi." Ted turned around slowly and his straight on gaze was met with nothing but thigh on either side. These thighs just bulged out massively from the knees, their size and weight making it impossible to walk straight. The legs would have to be kicked out to the sides, damn near split walking from how Ted figured it. Each tear drop shape of the front of these thighs were large enough that Ted could place his hand on one of them and it wouldn't be large enough. The cuts of definition were so large and deep Ted though he could stick his hand into them like an actual crevice on a granite mountain. Hell, the striations looked nearly that deep. And then running over them, all these mighty tubes just under the skin. "My gawd!" Thought Ted. "The sculptor of this statue got so detailed. The work on these veins is breathtaking." But then Ted had to shake and quiver a bit, remembering as he followed a plumping vein down the thighs, across a cable car strand for hamstring and down into hard diamond shaped calves that this wasn't a statue, it was a person that had walked into the room. He lingered on the calves because they were so big they nearly looked the same size as the thighs... perhaps. Then he saw the feet at the bottom... the huge, massive, meaty, thick, strong and slightly hairy feet. Realizing the shins, calves, and thighs were hairy as well, Ted, began to follow that trail back up stopping and taking a quick breath when he realized, near the knees, floating just above them, but hanging in between like the pendulum of some giant clock, was the head of a penis that was ginormous, and it was connected to a shaft that was just as impossibly huge - and it was soft! It curved slightly at the top, or more correctly its base as the colossal cock had to hang over and ample set of balls, the size of which Ted thought for sure he could bowl with and might give a strong man trouble to lift. Continuing to arch his head and neck backwards, he saw the thick yet feathery bush of hair that covered the crotch area and spread up and out over the swelling eight pack of abs that looked like it was so stacked and hard that it could actually serve as an old fashioned cobblestoned road with horses trotting on it. The obliques of this giant man were the same, and together with the abs they would provide a surface for a quartet of ladies to scrub wash clothes on. Up and up this stacked column of cobblestones Ted looked until his vision was blocked by two excessively large and round capstones that blocked out all view of the ceiling. Damn, did these fuckers still out and past the abs. Like it might be an actual foot or more from ab wall to the edge of the chest. It was so thick and full, so broad and wide, it barreled so large and heavy, for a moment Ted thought it might cause the man to topple, or that again, perhaps this was a sculpture and the chest part of the torso had broken way and rolling off the top of the abs. But there they stayed swelling just a little and then receding, in and out, in and out, as Ted took very large and long deep breaths. Ted could see something that looked like small stalactites, one each hanging off of one or the other pectoral, nearly pointing down and enticing him to come suckle and drink. Attempting to bend to the side to look around the great chest precise, Ted found his vision blocked on either side by the thick, massive lats that now had the appearance together of creating not a v, not a triangle or an inverted pyramid, but something more akin to a w, trapezoid, or a bracket. Combining with the man's back and shoulders, they made his mega man's backside a wall, literally a fuckin' walking, moveable solid wall. But it wasn't these thing that impeded Ted's vision as much as it was what they held up. Pushing them up and out at angles that were more parallel to the floor than hanging and pointing down to it, the lats held up the giant guys arms making them practically stick straight out. "If this was a statue...the structural support need to hold those arms in the air would need to be...." So full, so tight, so dense and large were the bellies of the biceps and the triceps that they weren't the simple curve of something ball or oval like. No they were more like an elongated and squared circle or oval or a rounded cornered rectangle. Until the giant flexed them. Whenever he moved his hand inward, that bicep popped with power and began to rise and rise and rise, so high Ted thought that when fully flexed and held the biceps peak could surely have snow form upon it. But no, those rivers of hot blood crossing here and there, making the biceps look like sacks of basilisks or great sand worms, would create too much heat and melt that snow away. The veins snaked and extended their way down into forearms that Ted was certain was larger round than his waist...his chest! Both his thighs put together! Who was this man? Who was the person who drug him while asleep out of the golf windmill? Who was this god like being that was so muscular Hercules himself would cry in fear upon meeting him? This giant, hairy, muscular, manly, musky, hung, virile, alpha supreme male... "Oh gawd... I'm too close for you to see me." said this mega mayor and the form began to move and pad his freaky feet in order to back up a few feet. Ted looked up and up and up and waited and waited. Slowly, eventually, cresting over the chiseled chest with the forest of hair, came the man's face and then Ted saw...Ted knew.... the face was, the mammoth man was his former best friend Cris. "AH! AH!" Cried out Ted as suddenly his body began to spasm and shake uncontrollably. "Ted? Are you alright?" Cris said as he bent down to be closer and more eye level to Ted. Once there Cris could see that in almost one split second, Ted had not only become aroused, not only achieve full, maximum stiff, erection, but that he was already spewing copious amounts of cum in his new pants. The sudden rush of arousal and climax at nearly the same instant moment was a little too much for Ted and he dropped to his knees and into the waiting hands of Cris. Looking up at Cris he hoarsely whispered, "Cri....Cris.... Crisón,... mi Crisito..." and then passed out. ************************************************************************** It was several hours before Ted woke up, and he didn't want to when he did. Dreaming he was out on a beautiful sunny day, he was laying down in semi-tall grass and he was enjoying the smell of it and the feel of it on his face, in his fingers, surrounding his torso and through his feet. He was running his hands through this grass and inhaling deeply when he came too. There was a bright light as he actually opened his eyes and his vision adjusted from sleep to awake. Looking out he could see a couch just on the other side of very odd coffee table. It looked more like a set of two tiered steps, except they were made of glass and iron metal. The higher side is what faced him, while the lower side was on the side closest to the couch. The couch also appeared odd, or at least it did to point of view. The couch he was on was huge...really huge, especially compared to the couch across the way. Ted couldn't even feel the end of the couch, which at six-foot three inches tall he was usually used to feeling if laying stretched out on one. After closing his eyes again, Ted rolled over onto his back and ran his fingers across the couch cloth. Again, there was the feeling of being able to run his fingers through something. "Hmmmm must be a couch covered in shag rug material." Thought Ted to himself and he laughed as he ran his fingers through it and rubbed his arms up and down and then rubbed his feet over it. Opening his eyes to look down at his own feet, Ted suddenly took in a sharp intake of breath. He saw his own feet, but there...several feet away from his own feet was another pair of feet that looked nearly gigantic. As his depth perception changed focus he realized looked down, the middle of his vision was blocked by something tubular and mounding , like a fairly large pipe, rising out of the shag fur of the couch and heavily flopping over an end. It was then that Ted realized he wasn't lying on a couch, but on the torso of a man. Another gasp and Cris sat up and then turned around to look up towards the head. He immediately fell forward and propped himself up on one elbow firmly planted in the rich deep brown "grass" he had been lying on. "Easy," said Cris. "Don't sit up too fast. You're still a little too weak and you may pull your I.V. out. You were really quite malnourished. They've been giving you loads of I.V.'s with vitamins and other nutrients in them." Ted looked across towards the fairly large face of Cris and began to quiver. Finally tears welling up in his eyes he buried his face into the crevice of Cris' protruding pectorals while attempting to hug them and hug Cris. "I am so sorry...Cris... I've been.... I've been...." "Estúpido?" "Yeah...." The two lay there for a moment with Ted looking up several times, mouth open, attempting to say something, before grunting in frustration and looking down or away again. Finally he just began to blurt out. "Cris.... I am so sorry. I've been the world's biggest jerk. I... I had begun to develop feelings for you, my friend....my brother. I've had them for a while and I didn't know how to tell you. And then you started growing and growing....and growing. I was so scared for you, but at the same time I kept picturing us being an item as slipping away. I'm a top man. You know I am. I love to take the lead and to be rough, but with you getting bigger and bigger, taller and stronger, I just could be the top to you. I couldn't dominate you. The bigger you got the more distant I figured you would be relationship wise. It was even worse given the fact that you were developing a cross between donkey and horse genes down there." Cris laughed a small, low chuckle. "At the same time, the bigger and larger you got, the more it turned me on. I can't hardly look at you right now without blowing a load. You are just so mind blowingly huge! So fucking sexy! I wanted to be with you, but I also still wanted to dominate you. And then I also had to try and balance out those emotions with the fact that my friend was growing and growing without any knowledge why. I knew you needed support, but your body was changing so fast I thought I was losing my best friend, you just looked so different after each growth spurt. And I was so scared for you, but I didn't know how to show support, because I didn't know how to handle it. Then you were becoming more confident, more aggressive, more out there personality wise, the man I fell in love with seemed to be disappearing personality wise as well. "All these emotions thrashing inside me, all the changes you were going through. I was just in panic mode. It doesn't give me an excuse for how I was acting. I was an ultimate jerk. I should call my own self a pendejo. I needed to be there for you, as your best friend, whether I ever expressed my love to you or not. You needed me and I failed." The two sat there for about another fifteen minutes in silence, staring but not actually staring at each other. Finally Ted began to speak again. "I nearly died when you threw away my phone number and kicked me out, but I don't blame you. I don't know how you found me, and I don't deserve this treatment, but I will find a job and pay you back. I.... I really appreciate this." Another poignant pause occurred before Cris spoke. "As the mayor of Fallen Brooke, I have quite a few connections. When the mini-golf owner called for the police to come in and remove you from his windmill, I was called by the police chief. They identified you by a tattoo on your left shoulder and I told them to bring you to my house." "I don't have a tattoo on my left..." "You have been out of it a while. ... You have one of all your personal information ." "Oh my gawd." "You've really been messed up, haven't you." Cris wrapped his arms around Ted and pressed him into his chest for a huge bear hug. "So....obviously you're still growing. Hopefully, despite all my negative predictions otherwise, everything is growing normally, just extremely large?" "Yes. Everything about me is huge, but functioning normally, and I am no longer growing. I stopped growing about six months ago and the last check up shown the plates fused, so there is no more growth. I have stopped at this tiny, short, little height." and Cris laughed. "Short little height. You do realize I only come up a fourth of the way up your thighs when we both stand up. So... out with it.... how big has my friend.... we are still friends aren't we?" "Tedito.... we're still best friends. I wouldn't have told the police to drop you off here and paid for doctor's and medicine if we weren't." "I'm glad. So how big has my friend grown? Do you fit in anything anywhere anymore?" Cris belly laughed. "No.... no, not really. Let's see.... I'm twelve feet six inches tall." "Twelve!..." "Yep. I am exactly twice as tall as you are. My monstrous dogs down there are almost three feet long, thirty inches to be exact and twelve and one-third inches wide, so I now wear a US men's size 68 6E shoe. I weigh three-thousand six-hundred pounds, which if you make proportionate for comprehension, if I had the same build at your height, I'd weigh four-hundred fifty pounds. I weigh this much because my muscles have grown as though I have the muscle disorder where their growth and development isn't inhibited. My upper arm for example is Seventy-four and one fourth inches around. That is my upper arm is almost as big around as you are tall." Cris raised up one arm and slowly flexed it causing the extremely full and flat belly of his biceps grow and rise up higher and higher until it filled Ted's vision. Ted quickly developed a raging hard on seeing an upper arm that was roughly like three feet tall. "If I was your height, it would mean that my upper arm would be just over thirty-seven inches around." Ted swallowed hard. "Dios mio.... and... how..... how big is.... is... is your?" "If I was your height my cock would be three feet long." "Three feet long?!" "Yes but on me that means it is six feet long." Ted leaned forward again, his hands out to support himself on Cris, but he began to absent mindedly run his fingers through the thick and fluffy hair over Cris' chest. "I see you're really liking the hair." Ted smirked. "You've become like a god, my friend. So big, so strong, so dense, so tall, so hung, so hairy, you're just the ultimate man. The prime alpha male. That alone turns me on beyond all belief. Add to it that I know you... your personality... and it just....I want you so bad right now. I'm burning inside with so much desire for you, I feel like I'm going to explode. I know... we can only be friends." "No... not friends." "Yeah... I know.... my brother from another mother. Mi hermano." "No...." "No?..." said Ted looking up with a look of fear in his eyes and panic on his face. "Mi amor." Ted flushed hot and was starting to shake a little and to faint upon hearing those words, but he kept himself awake. "All this time we've dated other people because we thought since we grew up together we were too much like brothers to have a relationship. The truth though is that I've been falling in love with you for years. It killed me to snap my android and throw away any chance of recalling your phone number when I kicked you out. I took a trip out to Orlando to call upon you, but you had lost your job, your house by then and I'm guessing was already in a drunken stupor, because I put out a notice to look for you, to have you contact me, but no answer came." "Yeah... I had a really rough patch with a lot of travel apparently. ... ... ... But.... how can we even try this? Even if I decide to compromise and be your 'bitch bottom', hahahaha... how are you going to make love to me? I'm only three inches taller than your cock is?" Cris thought about this for a moment. "Maybe we don't have to compromise your favorite roll?" "How?" "Well....if my cock is only three inches shorter than you are tall, my cock head should be as big as someone's ass to you. Why don't you fuck my cock?" "You're pulling my leg." "No... I'm serious. Here...get up." Cris had Ted hop off of him and he stood up next to the couch. "Go ahead and grab it. Work the head. You can ride it up as it becomes erect." Ted marveled as he began to stroke and pat and smack Cris' penis head as though it were some guy's ass in front of him. A penis that already looked so huge and gigantic to Ted began to swell and lurch and grow in length and girth. Ted moaned as he could feel the blood pumping up into the shaft, the heat rising through it all. He felt the life sized anaconda grow thicker and thicker, swelling harder and harder in his hands while it's length increased and kept pushing him further and further back. Grabbing a hold around the shaft, Ted rode Cris' cock as it rose up and up until it hoisted Ted up off the couch and surprisingly he pulled himself on top to set on the head. After catching his breath, Ted balance himself and stood up on Cris' cock and proceeded to take his pants and shirt off and throw them to the floor. He then walked down to the base where he held onto Cris' abs and obliques as though he were rock climbing and attached his mouth to Cris' right nip. "OOOH!" Cris cried in surprise, but adjusted his stance to stand firm. After performing that action, along with kissing every little muscle belly of the obliques Ted could find, he then sat back down at the cock base, his feet dangling over the sides and resting upon Cris' goodly sized balls. Rubbing as sensually as he could muster, Ted drug his hands up and down Cris' prick's shaft and base, while his feet rubbed across and over Cris' nuts. "Oooooh wow....that's nice..." moaned Cris. Several minutes later, Ted turned and lay down length wise down Cris' cock, head facing into Cris' thick bush of crotch hair. He then shimmied his way out to the head and once there began to balance himself and get himself ready to enter Cris' slit with his own throbbing member. Ted caused the schlong to droop down so he could get his feet onto the couch, then grabbing behind the head as though it was someone's waist, Ted pushed Cris' member down and then slowly and gently pushed his way into the slit. "hoo HOOO!" gasped Cris in excitement as he staggered back a step. "Yeah.... you like that, doncha? My big fat cock going into your slit." Ted began to buck his hips while making his hands caress the helmet all over. He shuddered all over for surprisingly the piss slit was just as tight for him as any hole would normally be. Cris on the other hand was having a problem with the sensations that was travelling up his shaft through his crotch up and over his abs, chest, neck, chin and lower lip, or down through his balls, down his thighs, over his knees, past in his calves, into his feet and curling his toes. "oh OH! OH! OH!... .... .." he gasped several quick breaths. "The sen-SA-tion...huh huh..... all those nerve endings being stroked like.... oooughhh! stroked.... gawd! Stop.... STOP!" "Hmmmfff.... NO! You're tight slit feels too good. So wonderful! Take it! Take my cock! Non stop! Humping like a fuckin' bunny!" Ted doubled his efforts and began to plow double time in and out of Cris' slit. "AAAAAUGK! OH! OH! YOU HUH HUH HUH YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP! OH OH!...." "NO! Take it! TAKE IT!" Cris began to shake uncontrolably. His footing began to give and stumble stood back and forth. He kept trying to push his cock forward and herky-jerk his groin and cock from Ted or cause it to yank Ted off the couch. "Ted TEAAAUUUUUUUUHFFFFFFFFFFFUCK! HUH HUH HUH STOP! STOP!" On either side of the giant couch were two huge metal sculptures. Cris reached out and individually pulled them closer in between convulsions created by Ted's mad non-stop drilling into his piss slit. When they were finally only arms length on either side of him, he used them to help support himself and keep from buckling whenever the sensation of Ted' cock rubbing shot across his body. "YEAH....C'MON! MY GIANT BITCH! MY LOVER! EXPLODE! EXPLODE FOR ME..EE...EEEEE AH! AH! AH!" "OH! AI! AI AIAIAAIAIAIAIAAI HUH HUH HUH GRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNN O! NO! NO NO NO! NOT HUHUH HUH YET!" The next growl Cris made he brought his arms down in front of him making the most muscular of crab shots of all time. His neck swelling, his traps rising, his delts flaring, his biceps popping, his fore arms swelling, his abs and obliques contracting, and his chest barreling and tightening. Problem was Cris was still holding onto the statues at his side and with a great sound of stressing and stretching metal he bent them down. Eventually there were pats and smacks of flesh upon metal as Cris' violent tremors began to become more violent and he was forced to relieve his shaking by smacking the ruined metal sculptures with his hands when the energy hit his finger tips. His hips were gyrating and bucking, his thighs were swelling and straining, his calves were becoming swollen with blood as the balls of his feet began to be in charge of his balance and keeping him standing. His head was snapped back and his face was contorted in ecstasy. He cried out and he pleaded with Ted. "OH! ooooh gawd...stop...please.... stop I can't .... I can't take it.... Ted.... TED!" But Ted who was also beginning to lose his sense of balance and control, looked up to see the giant twelve and half foot tall, supremely muscled body of Cris straining, flexing, rolling, popping to keep balance, to keep stance, becoming covered and drenched in sweat like some competitor upon the Mr. Olympia stage. Ted reached out with one hand and began to stroke up the hard under ridge of Cris' penis. This in turn made Cris scream out in pleasure and kick one leg out to the side and slam the foot down onto the floor for extra stability, causing the marble in the floor to crack and crumble. "you fuckaaaaauuuuugh YOU FUCKER! OH! BASTARDO! HNNNNNNNNNNGGGFFFF" Ted now began to caress the ridge of the helmet from the underside where the sides come together out and around to the top. Start and the slit and down and around. Slit and then down and around. All while still pumping, humping, and fucking away at the new hole that was his favorite. "You're gonna cum... and you're gonna cum....NOW!" Ted rammed his cock in slowly this time, while taking the thumbs of his head to press in at the slit and the firmly rub out to the head ridge at the same time. "OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH NO OH NO OH NO NO NO OH OH AI AI AAAAAAACK UUUUUUUUUUH AI?!" With a sudden most guttural sound, Cris' body shook like he was having a grand mal seizure, then his left knee gave out and he dropped to it as his head and back snapped back, his colossal chest and muscle gut extended forward and his super schlong thrust Ted into the back of the giant couch. "AAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" The sound was said to be heard a few miles away. Cris' chest caused his arms to contract and the metal statutes groaned and snapped in two. He fell back, his taught bubble butt landing on his left foot. And then the stream came.... Ted could hear it. Feel it. Like the sound of a torrent of water gushing out of a much smaller pipe it filled Cris' dynamic dong and suddenly spewed forth like a geyser. The blast was so powerful it knocked back into the couch and then kept him pinned down as several volleys that would've been a couple hundred feet long, had there been room, struck him, and splattered against his chest. One couldn't tell that Ted was having his own orgasm. One wasn't sure it his face was contorted in pleasure or if pain from the blast of his lovers orgasm hitting him in the chest. And even though he had an ample amount of cum himself, it lost in the massive pool left by Cris' rapids of spunk. Cris grabbed Ted, and then flipped himself over, butt on the floor, back resting against the giant couch. He placed Ted onto his chest. Trying to gasp out something to say in between several extremely powerful after shudders and minor orgasms, Cris finally passed out, not noticing that Ted had already done the same. It was said that it took nearly an thirty minute soak in a tub to be able to release Ted from Cris' cum soaked chest hair. The cleanup of the living room took a number of hours, of which the butler complained and threatened to quit his job if he wasn't invited to at least watch the next time Cris and Ted chose to go at it one of the more public rooms of the house. Ted managed to heal up and regain some weight, muscle weight under Cris' tutelage. He eventually found work, in the area local to Cris' home and the two have been insaparable. They have celebrated more and more anniversaries together, and Ted has remained the top by jumping up and clinging to Cris' cock whenever he wants it, or by staring hard at Cris and his muscles and whispering at him "You can stop." Cris has never started growing again, but the phrase now causes him to nearly rip out any underwear whenever he is wearing a pair. In fact, Ted will tease and drive Cris so nuts with the phrase, making him so horny, the public now has to cry out and remind Cris of his mayoral duties, "You can stop!"

Unit 246: Prologue It was unreal. It felt unreal, at least. The other six young men were writhing in pleasure inside the chamber, as their bodies transformed into something else. Something new. Something the galaxy hadn't seen before. There were Smith: the cocky delinquent who had been sentenced to service in the Space Fleet after too many knuckle-fights, Larson: the tall, sinewy and taciturn tracker with a past in martial arts, Eymundsson: with an impressive record in Strongman competitions, Blanchard: the explosives expert, who looked like an ancient Greek statue, Karpov: the short and stocky bodybuilder, who was a skilful sniper, and Schnauzerschwarzwald, another sailor with a bodybuilding-hobby. Despite his short and fragile physique, Pauwels had been re-assigned together with the other six to the Marine Research branch of the Empire's armed forces. Weeks had followed, when Corporal Collins maintained high-intensity drill with them, only interrupted by repeated time for blood-samples and urine-samples taken by the Research Team. The first two to go into the chamber were Eymundsson and Schnauzerschwarzwald, after being injected by Version 1.1. Like any other tall man, Eymundsson hadn't been able to build a wide and V-shaped physique: His strength was impressive, but his muscles were lean and oblong, rather than peaking bulges. The opposite had been true about Schnauzerschwarzwald: Built like a heap of globes of brawn, he wasn't particularly tall, and didn't demonstrate the same amount of explosive or persevering strength of Eymundsson. The change had begun already after their first session in the chamber. Early on found suitable for encryption and code-breaking, Pauwels wasn't the typical field operator, and the first week at the Research Ship had been uncomfortable. Although bullying wasn't precisely the right word for it, Smith had spent some time intimidating Pauwels, and Schnauzerschwarzwald had been slightly too smug about his physical superiority. Eymundsson had noticed, and had a little talk with them, and after that things changed to the better. Karpov had become a good friend: They were both about the same height, though any physical similarities ended there. Karpov looked like "a little tank" -- a description he earned from Blanchard. The following week Smith and Blanchard had went into the chamber: Though any physical changes had been less obvious, than in the case of Eymundsson and Schnauzerschwarzwald, Blanchard had begun to show the same assertive and confident behaviour of Smith, and the latter's general physical shape had changed into the same symmetrical and harmonious body-type as Blanchard. Corporal Collins and Pauwels watched their six brothers in arms undergo the next level of the treatment. Instruments were fastened to their chests, arms and buzzcut heads, and the equipment hummed of power directed into the chamber. The men inside the chamber writhed and moaned on their reclining seats. Their glossy boots rested against their foot pads, and their growing legs were covered in wide camo-patterned trousers. Their tanned and sweaty torsos were naked under the impact of the transforming process, and their glistening individual shapes were scanned by the equipment. One of the anonymous white-clad researchers impassively declared: "Scanning physical shapes of test subjects.", and pressed a few buttons. "Fusing scanned shapes into desired enhanced shape." The sound from Pauwels' friends became more excited and intense. "Fuck! Can't believe ... Uh! Adding more of your symmetry, Blanchard, and getting beefy like you, Karpov.", Smith exclaimed. "No, I don't want to ... Uh! I don't need more mass ... I ... No, I don't need obedience-implant ... I ... NO! What's happening?", Larson shouted, with an increasing level of fright in his voice. "YES! Do it! Taller like you!", Karpov moaned, watching Smith, Larson and Eymundsson change before him. He was right. Pauwels could see his stout and sturdy little friend grow taller, without loosing his wide and brawny body-type. One of the researchers approached Pauwels and Corporal Collins from behind: "Corporal. It is time. You and Pauwels will be given Version 1.3." Without any further ado, Pauwels and Corporal Collins were injected with Version 1.3. It stung. Pauwels felt warm, and felt some perspiration to form. He removed his t-shirt, and the dogtags dangled on his conditioned but thin naked chest. He felt Corporal Collins' hand on his shoulder. "It has begun. Do you understand how your ability to keep lean will affect the field, and how your decryption talent will affect our shared brainwave-pattern?" "I suppose I don't." "Are you afraid?" "I would lie if I told you, that I am not, but you and these six are among the finest men I have ever met." Pauwels hesitated and shivered. "Sir. Will I ... Will I achieve similar traits like the others?" "If our calculations are correct: Yes. Hurry up, test-subject. Entering chamber NOW!" And they entered. One minute later, Pauwels felt how he became more like the other men of his unit. Eymundsson's height and raw strength. Karpov's mass. Smith's confidence. Blanchard's and Schnauzerschwarzwald's symmetry. Larson's endurance and relentlessness. And Corporal Collin's courage. They were transforming into the Prototype Marines together, and Pauwel's let it happen. Two hours later, he wasn't Pauwels any longer. He was Unit 008. He had the body of Unit 008. He had the mind of Unit 008. He was proud to be Unit 008. * * * Chapter one take place decades later. Perhaps centuries. You'll find it here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/

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Chapter 2: Old friend, new poblems. Nothing, there happend nothing. But Thomas still looked at the mouth of the pistol. 'Enough.': a voice said. Almost the biggest person Thomas ever was grapped the person at his neck. 'Let me go.': a voice said. Thomas heard it was a woman. 'It was just a joke.' 'I don't like deathly jokes. Your going with me.' Thomas looked to the man holding the woman. He was like 8 feet, packing with the most ammount of muscles he ever witnessed. Thomas asked himself why the hell he didn't see the person before. The guy was sticking out of any other person. He wouldn't clearly see the face, accourding the room was all dark and only lighten by laser lights. 'Try to avoid problems sir.': the man say, carrying the woman away. Thoms runs after them, catching them up in the bright lighten hallway. 'Wait!' The man turned himself and looked to Thomas. When Thomas looked to the man, it was like some put on a projector in his head. Places and events about his childhood flashed in front of his eyes. He saw a face, face really close to him. With eyes like green emerald, just like the man in font of him. 'No way.': Thomas tough 'That's impossible.' The man had some strange look on his face, like he was shocked to. He tried to look professional again. 'I...I had to go.' The man walked threw a door and was gone. Thomas stoot in the hallway for a couple of minutes. Did he just saw? It couldn't be. Without thinking, Thomas leave the party and walked to his hotelroom. His toughts were spinnin like crazy, trying to understand what he saw. Did he just saw, Justin? His childhood friend, who gave him his first kiss? The same Justin who told him: Fuck off. And leave for America. It couldn't be. First off al Thomas never heard Justin or his family returned. And also, this guy was freaking big. He was like a wet dream. He shoulder were so wide, his pecs were like meaty slabs, stapped to his chest, he had biceps like there were basket balls pumped under his skin. And his face, so sqaure, roughed by a beard. It just couldn't. By the time Thomas had put his head on the cussion, he had convinsed himself it wasn't Justin. Just someone why was strongly looking at him. But, there was this little voice, back in head saying: 'You reconise his eyes. Nobody is having eyes like Justin.' Thomas was happy he could focus on other things when he got back home. He decided to take a study. He wanted to become a laywer. The last year, the news about the überman had spraid threw the world. But, the strange thing was it only happend in the USA, in non other country there were there weren't any singals about these man. Thomas already had give up the hope he maybe, secretly become one. Now he hoped he would complete his study and leaving to America to fight for the überman rights there. Thomas liked it to be back on school, he love all of the knowledge. He soon reallise how he actually missed school. It was arround his Autumn he got a call fom his father, out of sudden. His father and he barely called, even Thomas still remember his prommise. 'Hey dad.': Thomas said, while looking into a big law book, try to find an answer for a poblem on his homework. 'What's up?' 'Alright, I think.' 'You sound worried. Something happen?' 'Well, you could say that. We're actually very worried.' 'Something happen to one of you?' 'Well... yes?' Thoms put the book away. 'Is one of you in the hospital?' 'Well, he did just leave it...' '"He"?' Thomas tough. That could be only be one person. 'Is something happen to Cederick?' 'Well. euh... No...yes.... I don't know. It's all out of sudden. We don't know what to do.' 'What happen?' 'It's hard to tell. But I know your into that kind of stuff, so we tough you maybe know about it?' 'Kind of stuff? Is Cederick become out gay? Why is he in the hospital then? Did he get a Soa?' 'Well.. no. Actually, that's partly the problem.' 'Your very vauge.' 'Maybe you just need to come and see it yourself.' 'I'm comming directly.' 'I would pick you up at the station.' Thomas left all his stuff were it was, picked his wallet, phone and keys and run to the train station. It was just 90 minutes later when Thomas run to the car of his father, sitting in the passenger seat. His father dircetly started to drive. 'What happen?': Thomas asked again, when he see the worried face on his father's face. 'Try not to freak out. We don't know how it happen. The doctors said it is something genetical. We try to find some help, but nobody here know about it. It seems like to be an American thing.' 'American thing?' 'Yes, they said it started all there. But they don't have the experts here. And well, like I said. You have followed that subject.' Thomas started to suspect something, but he didn't want to price his luck to early. His father parked his car and they walked to the garden. His stepmother was at the garden table, looking to his little sister playing with a man his age. Wait? Man? He looked better. The man who was as long as he was but far more buff was his little, 12 year younger brother Chederick. His little sister was holding a soccer ball between her feet, trying to pas him. 'This time I would get pass you ': she said, laughing. 'Not as long as I'm here.': Chederick said, also laughing. His voice was still the one of a child, but he got some deeps into it. 'Thomas!': his stepmother. 'Thank god your here. We didn't know who we could ask in such a short time.' He was still staring at his little brother, who was headbumping a heigh ball from his little sister. 'Fuck!': he couldn't hold himself saying it. He had dreamed of the moment he would meet an überman. But he never expect it be his little brother. He just know how his father and stepmother feel. He had heard stories about other parents of überman. His brother and sister looked up. 'Thomas!': Chederick yelled. The two run to him and Chederick wrapped his arms arround his chest and pulled him in the most sudden and suprising bear hug he ever got. After he took the time to gave his sister a hug, Chederick smiled to him and said. 'Hehe. Now I can pick you up. You always did that to me, now I can return the favour.' If his buff body didn't surprised him already, his way of speaking did. He spoke like a full grown man. If it wasn't his brother he would try to take his changes with the guy. But, that were worries for another time, he first must talk to the parents. 'C...could you two please go inside.': Thomas asked, try not to let his voice drip of upcoming lust. 'I want to talk with Dad for a moment.' His little sister got inside directly but his brother look to him. 'Awww, come one. I'm as big as you are now. You alwasy told me we would talk about everything open and honest if I was grown up. More grow up I couldn't get.' He laughed and flexes his pecs. Thomas bite his lip, the fucker knew how to flex already. This was going to be harder then he tought. But he wouldn't be a law student if he didn't had some sharp answers for himself. 'I know. But some growing up isn't all about height, it's also about age. So, play with you sister and show you a big boy.' 'Okay.': he said and walked inside. Thomas sat down with his father and put his head in his hands. 'I expected everything but this.' 'Well, you have followed that news, right?: his father asked. 'Yes... but it's very strange to witness it yourself for the first time.' 'We don't know what to do.': his stepmother said. 'We tried to came in contact with other people who have experience with it, but they were all in America.' 'That wouldn't be a problem, I can gave you some contact of people. The real problem is.... well. America have it all figure out. But this is the sec... first time I've seen it here in Europe. I don't know what the laws are for überman here. But I'm scared there aren't any laws at all. The rest of the world is still finding out what happen, and how.' 'We have read that to.': Thomas' father said. 'It's getting harder by the day. We don't know what to do. He eats like a bear and is almost out of all his clothes. It's cost loads of money and meanwhile Stacy isn't getting the attention she need. Lucky Chederick can keep her busy sometimes.' 'I can try to contact some people. I hope I can find a way to give this some good handles.' 'We hope for it.' Thomas' father said. 'It's so hard.' 'Let me... call somebody. I hope he pick up.' Thomas took his phone and called a number he remembered even better then his own. It took some time, but then it was picked up. 'Peter speaking.': a deep voice said. If his own brother hadn't gave him a boner already, the voice of the person did. He heard some moaming and grunting on the background, leaving nothing to the fantasy about what happen. 'Hello. Before you hang up, you don't know me. But I need you help. If it can be, as soon as possible.' 'Tell me son. Wait, let me guess, you just discover your an Überman. I'm surprised, this is an Europerian number right? Guess the time had come.' The man laughed, try to break the ice with the joke. Thomas try to concentrate on what he wanted to say, even if the sex sounds make him horny as fuck. 'Well, your partly right. But its't not me. It's someone near me' 'Ah.' Peter said. 'That make a whole difference. Let me tell you one thing first. There is nothing strange about it. Let that be clear.' 'I know what. I follow you for some time.... Could you please go someone else, those noices are distracing me.' Peter laughed. 'If you want.' Thomas heard the voices fading away and the sound of a door. 'Well, tell me son.' There was another reason Thomas told the man to leave the room.He wanted to gave the phone to his dad and the noises of studs having sex was not a very good first impression. Thomas took the time to tell the story about his little brother. 'Hehe, your pretty lucky little fella.': Peter said. Thomas could hear he was jerking of. 'For gods sake.': he tough. 'Stop that.' 'One of our man just returned to Europe. Maybe you can ty to contact him. He would been a much bigger help in this moment then I am.' Peter laughed, Thomas got the joke, but he wasn't in the mood. Peter gave Thomas a number he write down. 'Could you call the parents while I call him? And please, no funny sounds.' Thomas gulped for a moment. 'They already got it hard enough when I came out of the closet.' Thomas gave the number of his fathers phone to Peter and pushed the off button. Thomas told his father and his stephmother about Peter, that he had set up an organisation to help überman. He said they had to talk to Peter while he called the Europian man. His father agreed and Thoms reallise he did because he surely didn't know what to do otherwise. He hoped that Peter kept his word and don't make his father fears even worse. While his father talked to Peter, Thomas called the number. The moment the person on the other end of the line spoke his first sence, Thomas foze. He reconised the voice, from the disco. But it was the words the person say that make him get a rush of emotions and feelings go threw his body. 'Justin speakig.'

The experiment had started. Nicholas drank the pill as his father. He noticed the one his father had was pink while his was blue, but he didn't give it much importance, they had orders to follow. The last few years the world has fallen into war and suffering. High ranked officials demanded his Dad (a veteran militar) to get into this experiment. They would have to live in an isolated shack while being watched the whole time by cameras. Nicho remembered how he had asked his father many times what the pills they were going to have to take did, but his father truly didn't know. After taking the first pill they would have to take the first exercise lesson. They stepped to the room were a tv that covered the entire wall turned on out of nowhere. -Hi - the highly robotic voice said- Welcome to the program “Fathers and sons” where we are going to analyse your data and responses to exercise and medicine. Now we will start with basic exercise, in this part of the program we will observe the changes in your body while training. The “Microlive” will be analysing from inside your brain your whole body. But for us to watch the external influence we need you to get naked. Please undress completely- Nicholas got red immediately, he was really ashamed of being naked with his dad. But he undressed anyway. Both straight males stood side by side looking to the tv avoiding eye contact. -Recognizing subjects. Subject one: Nicholas. Male Male, 1,79m tall, 59kg, muscle development 5%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: Low , Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 15cm erect, anus:not sensitive- Nicho’s face turned completely red. He couldn't believe his father had just heard that. -Subject two: Michael, Male Woman, 1,89m tall, 100kg, muscle development 59%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: High, Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 19 cm erect, anus: not sensitive- Michael was proud of his stats, he was 50 years old and he was in better shape than his puny kid. He was by not means a supermodel, but he had the body of a man. Broad shoulders, big arms, a little gut and hair. Lots of hair. He always thought of his kid as a little too effeminate, he knew he was straight but he didn't look like a man. In some ways he look to much like his mother… -Lets begin the exercises- the machine said. The training started normally, both Father and son were uncomfortable of having to do push ups and other stuff while being naked. While Michael completed all the tasks, Nicholas couldn't finish many of them and he was really tired of the end. -Now for this I need you to come together. You will recreate some poses that are being displayed. This is for gathering data of how they affect you- As the first image appeared in screen both men got really nervous. In the screen appeared and old muscular man grabbing by the wrists a teen and pushing his arms behind his bended back. The biggest problem however was that as the teen lowered his back ninety degrees, his butt was against the older man’s pelvis. Nicholas wasn't going to do it but his father gave him no option as he grabbed his arms and got him into position. Nicho could feel the heat of his father cock against the crack of his ass and felt disgusted. -Excellent now keep the position for two minutes- as the computer said the last word in the screen appeared a clock. Nicholas felt his hand hold in place by his father bigger hands and strength. Michael felt how his cock rubbed his son's ass hair and closed his eyes to not vomit. He would never do anything like this with his son if he didn't thought he was obligated. The soft skin of Nicho’s ass rubbed his fat dick and he not knowingly pressed his pelvis a little more. As the smell of his son entered his nose he remembered Barbara , Nicholas was really similar to her and that was hard to him sometimes. Distracted on his thoughts Michael started rubbing his cock against his son's ass that was starting to feel some movement, he didn't say anything because he knew not to mess up with his father. He felt this muscle man's fat cock rubbing and pressing harder against his butt and said nothing. He felt a real man behind him, he felt castrated in comparison, like a woman or a chick. His dad was now rubbing everything against him and the time went out. -That was perfect, now before you go to sleep lets do one more- The robotic voice woke Michael from the trans. He let go his son and backed. They both could see how his cock has swelled and said nothing. The next image was the same two people but now the grown man was grabbing the teen by his ass and pressing him. And the younger one had his hands on the shoulders of the oder man. Their whole body was touching each other. Again Michael took the lead and graved Nicho's but and pressed against him. Nicho on the other hand nervously got his hands on his father's muscle shoulders in what from the outside looked like a really romantic position. They both looked at each others eyes. Nicho has the eyes of his mother thought Michael as he cupped his son's bubble butt. It was big, bigger than what he thought, his fingers caressed it a little bit, and soft. His semi soft cock was pressing against his son's abs and it was getting harder. He closed his eyes, it was like hugging Barbara. His strong fingers entered his son's crack and explored the whole outside of his ass. Just like Barbara he thought. Nicholas meanwhile could feel the precum of his father running in his stomach. Again he was feeling castrated. He was standing like a woman, being touched by his father like one. Why couldn't he be more masculine? Have those broad shoulders, his hands travelled through his dad's torso imagining how it would be like. Masculinity, power, that dick that he was feeling. His cock was as hard as his father's. That's how two straight men ended up hard by being with each other. The training ended and both have to sleep. There was only one bed for two people. They would have to sleep together.

Authors Note: Can’t really tell my wife that I’m narcistically in love with my own muscles. Or that I get off on growing. Even after 20-years of lifting. So here you guys go. Some fiction from fact. P.S. I still kept the shorts. ========================= RIIIPPPPPPP “DAD! I think you’re growing too big!” My teenage son, Danny, squealed as my swim shorts blew apart. Those squats I did this morning must have really paid off, I gleefully thought. Not to mention those three protein shakes. “No such thing, champ!” I proudly responded. Giving him a mighty flex of my colossal-sized muscle arms. We were at the community pool together. On a hot day too. All the families, parents and kids, were already staring at my super sized bodybuilder physique. But when the shorts began to go, that’s when people really began to look. “Besides, kid... Ladies love when a man is built like an Ox!” I continued to mentor my son. Seeing all the hot moms drool. The skinny or fat fathers enviously compare. Looking down I did look fucking enormous. Especially my legs. Monstrous even. 34-inches of skull crushing man muscle to be exact. Yet I still wanted more. A lot more... “But, Dad, you’re almost bigger then an Ox!” Danny, weeped. I always loved when the kid would say shit like that. With his jaw flat on the floor. The whole crowd onlooking. How could I not continue to arrogantly pump and flex each muscle masterpiece. *POP* *POP* Watching the threads of my shorts literally pull apart. It was times like these I couldn’t help but devilishly day dream that I was actually growing bigger. Bigger by the second. Just like all the movies and comic books. Some greedy little growth monster. Feasting upon every minute. RIIIPPPP RIIIIPPPPPPPPP “Ooooh, yeah! Just look at all that power, son!” I arrogantly stated. Still displaying my awesome show of strength. Bigger and bigger my legs seemed to grow though. As if the pump was boundless. Endless. Even my child crushing butt muscles (the absolutely massive watermelon-sized muscle glutes) seemed to reach such unprecedented proportions, my swim shorts couldn’t help but detonate around the back as well. *SNAP, SNAP* “Like... who wouldn’t want to be this strong!?” I grinned in response to my butthole blowout. Totally high off the power. Even drunkenly hugging my face against all 28-inches of bicep. I knew my swim shorts were about to completely go. Yet I just couldn’t seem to stop myself. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind growing double this size!” I openly confessed. “DOUBLE!?!” Danny, weeped once more. “Oooooh, yeah, son...” I groaned with a final flex. “Maybe even triple...” It was in those last insane words that everything fell apart. Feeling like a total beast as my legs swelled beyond any previous measure... RIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP ...“Whoa!!! That guys huge!” - “He’s like the Hulk, mom!” - “I’ve never seen muscles so big!”... I could hear people of all ages spout there praise. Like that rush of being on competition stage. Only multiplied. Making the blood even rush to my dick. So excited by own my muscle prowess. And while I know you might be wondering about the clothing situation, I had luckily prepared for such an occasion. Having previously destroyed three pairs of pants in public, tons of shirts and underwear, I figured I should always wear a pair of posers before ever leaving the house. Today’s color was bright green. “OH-GOD!!!” Danny, squealed this time. With his usual low teenage voice reaching an all time high. I couldn’t help but grin as his eyes got lost amongst all the colossal valleys of leg-muscles. Realizing, more then ever, that each leg totally dwarfed the width of his entire physique. “I think you might be the biggest bodybuilder in the world, Dad!” Danny, could hardly speak. “Gettin there, champ!” I chuckled at his response. Continuing to flex proudly as an even bigger crowd of people showed up. “Jesus, Clark... I’ve never seen anything like it! How much are you weighing these days?” That was our next store neighbor, Nathan. Who quickly made his way to the front of the line. He was by the far the second biggest dad there. A gym rat himself. Puny by comparison. But then again, who wasn’t. Oh and that was me by the way - Clark. “About 340 pounds...” I responded with another titanic flex. “Still growing like a teenager though...” I confidently boasted. Especially after seeing, Nathan, linger his gaze around my triumphant man-bulge. If only I could grow bigger down there too, I delightfully thought. 9-inches was honestly beginning to look small against all this muscle. ...“He’s bigger then Superman!” - “Can I feel your muscles?” - Would you mind taking a picture?” The crowd continued. About a dozen people felt up my muscles. It didn’t matter what age. Even, Nathan, queerly felt up my tree-sized muscle thighs for a bit. My king sized biceps. And nearly half the crowd took pictures. When we finally got back to the locker room, I was on cloud-nine. I honestly thought the day couldn’t get any better. The week for that matter. Feeling as if I had just experienced a fantasy, rather then real life. And yet little did I know, the day was far from being over... RIIIIPPP RIIIIPPPPPPPP “Oh god, Dad! Not again!”...

This story was done as a commission for creatively-bankrupt on Tumblr. It contains some pretty heavy (for me) BDSM stuff towards the end, big time daddykink and masculinity kinks, but also LOTS of growth and fun. If that all sounds good to you, read on. ------------------------------- “Not Too Naughty?” Tommy Hanson sighs, staring at the blinking neon sign above the dated, 80s-era sex shop his boyfriend has dragged him into. “Can’t I just wear a pin like last year?” “Babe. It’s three days to pride and you’ve been working out. We’re getting you something slutty.” Zack, Tommy’s boyfriend, sifts through racks of brightly colored jockstraps as he tries to encourage his nervous (some might say repressed) beau. “I don’t work out to show off though! I look good for myself.” Tommy grimaces at the racks of toys and lube, briefly acknowledging the bottled blonde sitting at the checkout counter. She’s on her phone, and doesn’t look up as the two pass by. “And for me.” Zack chuckles. He’s moved toward the back of the store, where the more exotic gear is hiding. “What about some leather? You’d look good in leather.” “Guys like me don’t wear leather.” Tommy keeps his distance from the cuffs, straps, and other fetish pieces surrounding the pair. “I don’t have the body for that at all.” “Confidence, youngling. Oooh, what about this?” Zack pulls out a black studded harness, metal pieces clinking as they dangle beneath. “Maybe pair it with a jock or something and you’re set!” “I’m not set. I don’t even have a set, I have bird chest.” Zack cranes his neck down and kisses his boyfriend’s forehead, locking eyes with him. “Well I think you’re sexy as hell.” “I just don’t wanna look stupid.” Tommy slumps his shoulders, looking dejected. “Tommy. You’re the only person who would think that. Remember the outfits we saw last year?” “But what if I get sunbu-” Zack cuts Tommy off. “I’m hearin’ lots of excuses. Just try it on. For me.” “No fitting rooms.” The woman at the register chimes in, curtly. Tommy shrugs. “Ah, no fitting rooms. That’s too ba-” “Tommy.” The two stare at eachother, Tommy’s arms crossed. “Just put it on over your shirt or something. I wanna see it on you.” Tommy stretches his arms outward, sighing as his boyfriend wraps the harness around his chest, twisting him around to fasten it. Zack tightens the straps around Tommy’s chest, letting it pull Tommy’s shirt taut around his lean frame. His toned pecs are nicely outlined in the teal fabric, nipples hard from the cool air. Zack weaves around Tommy and the surrounding racks to get in a good look. “And just like that, you’re even sexier.” Tommy’s face reddens. “Ey, there a mirror in here?” Zack motions to the cashier. The blonde wordlessly points to a floor-to-ceiling mirror towards the side, which Zack eagerly drags his boyfriend towards. Tommy looks at his reflection, scanning the straps of the harness down his frame. Zack ducks out from behind him and grins. “Now you see? Sexy as fuck.” Zack grabs Tommy’s ass, making his boyfriend jump in the process. “… you’re killin’ me babe.” A slight smile crosses Tommy’s face as Zack’s hand runs up his back to his shoulders. Soon, Tommy feels Zack’s hot breath against his ear. “You’d look even sexier if you were buried balls deep in me.” Zack whispers to his boyfriend as he pushes his crotch into Tommy’s thigh and kisses his neck softly, massaging his partner’s shoulders. Tommy stiffens at the thought and takes a breath, his jeans tightening. “Maybe tonight, you can see for yourself.” Tommy turns his head and kisses his boyfriend. The two start to get handsy, Zack’s hand running down Tommy’s chest as he grinds into his companion’s ass. “Ahem.” The pair looks up to see the cashier staring at them, stone-faced. Giggling, Zack unfastens the harness and Tommy pulls it over his head, mussing his blonde hair and making his shirt ride up to expose the smooth V shape he’s been working tirelessly to maintain. “S-sorry, little uh… excited.” Zack chuckles as he pulls out his wallet, Tommy tugging his shirt back down when he realizes his excitement is, well, visible. He shuffles back behind his boyfriend, pushing his denim-clad hardon into the crevice of Zack’s ass. Zack hisses, elbowing him away. “Save it for bedroom, baby.” - - - - - - - - The door to Tommy’s apartment opens, the pair sloppily making out as they stumble inside and slam the door behind them. Zack drops his pink shopping bag and pulls Tommy down onto the couch, sucking at Tommy’s neck as the blonde moans aloud. Zack pops open Tommy’s jeans and reaches into his black briefs, pulls out Tommy’s rigid hardon, and licks a stripe up the shaft with purpose. Tommy bites his lip as his boyfriend tongues the head of his cock, eyes fluttering as Zack wraps his fist around Tommy’s member. Tommy thrusts into his boyfriend’s hand, groaning, when the vigorous pumps of his cock come to a stop. He cranes his neck upward and watches Zack strip, his partner making a show as he tugs his shirt over his head, his pants falling to the ground exposing the tented boxers beneath. Zack cranks his cock through the fabric, the two young men watching eachother jerk. “Babe?” Zack pulls his boxers down and lets his hard cock spring upward, precum slicking the tip. “Yeah?” Tommy moans out, thumbing the head of his hardon. “I wanna break in that new harness of yours.” Tommy shuts his eyes, laughing. “Already with the harness… jesus Zack.” He pushes his blonde locks back, shaking his head. “You’re going to look so sexy in it… fuck, can just imagine riding your cock with you wearing it.” Zack saunters over to his boyfriend and tugs his jeans off, Tommy’s briefs sliding down his smooth legs. Tommy sits up, his arms out. “Get the harness.” Zack twists toward the bag and bends over, tugging his asscheek back to expose his pink, tight hole to his boyfriend. He slaps his ass, thrusting it back towards Tommy, and ruffles through the shopping bag to grab the harness. “Get on up, babe...” Zack grabs the harness as Tommy stands up. He drapes the straps across Tommy’s shoulder, pushing his cock against his boyfriend’s and feeling the slick of their precum mixing. With a few clinks and snaps, the harness is in place and Zack steps away, admiring his handiwork. “Oughta call you daddy, fuck.” Zack jerks himself at the sight, the studded leather straps tight around Tommy’s lithe frame. “You can call me whatever you want, I just wanna stuff my cock in you so fuckin’ bad right now.” Tommy pants, his hand migrating to his right nipple and twiddling with the pink nub. Zack tugs Tommy by the harness towards his bedroom and falls back onto the bed. He spreads his legs, thighs opening wide as his companion retrieves a bottle of lube from his dresser. Tommy squeezes the clear lube on his palm and slicks his fingers, tossing the tube away to stroke himself as he steps toward his waiting boyfriend. Kneeling to the mattress, Tommy pushes his index finger into Zack’s opening, watching his cock jump as he’s penetrated. Zack pulls his arms back behind his head, thrusting his chest upward as another finger follows, Tommy working his entrance carefully. “C’mon daddy… want you to fuck my hole so fuckin’ hard...” Zack’s cock bobs with each flex of Tommy’s digits, a third entering him as Tommy teases Zack’s prostate. Precum bubbles from Zack’s cock as Tommy prods at his most sensitive space, Zack bucking upwards with a moan. Tommy pulls his fingers from Zack’s opening and positions himself, his hands on Zack’s torso as his wet cock kisses Zack’s hole. Zack shivers, bucking up once again. “Do it stud… f-fuck me...” Zack practically gasps as Tommy enters him, eyes closing as his beau eases in. With his full length inside, Tommy takes a breath. “Don’t you wanna watch daddy fuck you?” Tommy purrs. Zack’s eyes shoot open, meeting Tommy’s predatory gaze. He nods, taking a breath as Tommy starts to rock into him. The two are silent for the most part, only their harried breathing audible, when Zack begins to moan. “F-fuck… c’mon daddy.. fuckin big, sexy fuckin stud…” Zack groans between his deep breaths, Tommy’s pace quickening with the encouragement of his bottom. Tommy clenches his teeth, his thighs beginning to slap Zack’s ass as he fucks his lover in earnest. Zack’s eyes begin to droop once again, his head tilting back as his cock bounces with the rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts. Tommy reaches down and scoops up Zack’s legs, pulling him toward the edge of the mattress and spreading him further as he pistons into him, his balls slapping Zack’s cheeks as he fucks him. “W-want you to cum in me daddy, fill my hole babe...” Zack moans, strings of pre stretching from his dick to his shaved torso. “Y-yeah? You want me to breed you?” Tommy snarls. “Gonna breed your tight hole, daddy’s gonna fuckin’ fill… fuckin’ fill you up, fuck… fuck…” Teeth still clenched, Tommy bucks into his boyfriend as he feels his release bubbling up within him. Hunching over, Tommy thrusts vigorously into Zack, mouth opening as his groans of pleasure crescendo. “Fuck yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Tommy’s body quivers as he cums deep within his lover, pumping into him with labored thrusts as hot seed fills Zack’s hole. Zack’s eyes widen, rolling back as his cock sputters and pulses white strings across his stomach, veins of his cock pulsating as Tommy cums inside of him. Sweat beads down Tommy’s chest, veins rippling across his shoulders and pecs, his body stiffening as he orgasms. Zack opens his eyes, in orgasmic bliss but locking onto Tommy’s shoulders, watching them spread outward beneath the light of his bedroom. “T-Tommy.. Tommy… f-fuck...” He tries to call attention, but Tommy’s lost in lust as Zack watches the unbelievable sight above him. The crevice of Tommy’s pecs deepens, black hairs sprouting across his chest as the V of his waist deepens, the smooth, toned surface of his abdominals tightening into hard, squared shapes. Zack stares at his boyfriend, his orgasm tapering as he sees Tommy’s jaw clench and stretch, tightening into an angular silhouette. With a deep groan, Tommy collapses on top of his boyfriend, his chin sprouting fur that scratches at the surface of Zack’s pecs. Wide-eyed, Zack stares at the ceiling and listens to Tommy’s huffs of pleasure, the moans deeper than he’s ever heard from his partner. He feels Tommy’s orgasm tapering off and reaches across his boyfriend’s back, poking him. “Tommy… holy fuckin’ shit, dude… wake up, babe…” Zack pokes Tommy’s shoulderblade, surprised by the firmness of the skin and muscle. Heaving, Tommy pushes himself off of his boyfriend in a daze. Up-close, Zack notices the fuzz that now trails down his chiseled jaw and across a vascular neck, his eyebrows thicker. “Am I crazy?” Zack blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the sight. Tommy runs his hands through his hair, black fuzz across the back of his palms leading to strong, hairy biceps. In the span of a few moments, Tommy looks as if he’s aged ten years.. and gained twenty pounds of solid strength in the meantime. “Fuck, babe. I’m breathless.” Tommy gets his grips as Zack scans Tommy’s body, whispy black hair spiraled across his chest that now rests on the straps of his harness, his nipples a vivid pink. With a wet SLURP, Tommy pulls out of his boyfriend, his cock hanging between his legs with new girth as he steps back. “What just… what fucking happened right there?” Zack wipes sweat from his brow, letting his legs hang off the bed as he looks across Tommy’s furry thighs and reddened, wet cock. “What are you talking about?” Tommy rubs his forehead, still sort of dazed, and lets out a loud yawn. He scratches his chest, the short black fuzz tickling his fingers. “You’re fucking… this is not real, can’t be, no fuckin’ way...” Zack sits up, taking another breath as he tries to make sense of what he just saw. Tommy turns away from his boyfriend, showing his expanded, round ass as he strides toward the bathroom, reaching back to undo his harness as the door closes. “What are you doing Tommy? We gotta talk!” Zack gets up and bangs on the bathroom door, incredulous. “I gotta shower. Feel like a fuckin’ train hit me.” The deeper voice groans from behind the door as Zack hears the shower being turned on. “Something definitely hit you, but it wasn’t a fucking train. You just like… hulked out on me! For real!” “Dunno what you’re talking about man, unless you’re talkin’ about my gains. Hah.” Zack hears the plink of the shower curtain closing, trails of cum leaking down his thighs as he works to piece together what he just saw. He sinks down onto the apartment’s wood floor, zoning out from exhaustion and sheer disbelief. A few minutes go by and the door opens behind him, and Zack snaps out of it and looks up towards his boyfriend. Water drips across Tommy’s sculpted pecs, catching on the tiny hairs that circle his nipples. His blonde hair has gotten darker, the roots almost black. A towel is wrapped around his waist, sitting perfectly at his grooved adonis belt. “Your turn, don’t get cum on the floor or else I’ll make you clean it up.” Tommy smirks, pushing past his boyfriend to his bedroom, towel falling as he shuts his door. Zack shakes his head and heads into the bathroom to clean up. - - - - - - - - - - - Zack and Tommy have always had an open relationship, but Tommy was never one to explore his sexuality. Yet as Zack enters Tommy’s room, he finds his boyfriend sprawled across the bed, setting up a Grindr account wearing nothing but a pair of oh-so-tight briefs. Tommy’s nonchalant demeanor about what occurred less than an hour ago has Zack on edge, but Zack can’t push the subject – Tommy just insists Zack’s crazy. “Maybe we should sort this out before you go slut around on Grindr.” Zack rubs Tommy’s thigh, twisting the soft hair between his thumb and forefinger as Tommy lifts his phone and takes a selfie. “Nothin’ to sort out babe. Tommy’s turn to find a hookup.” Tommy’s profile is good to go, and he’s already wheeling and dealing as Zack stands up. “If you’re gonna be all bitchy about this when we both clearly know something’s wrong...” “Can you quit your shit for one second man? The one time in my life I wanna get my dick wet and you’re cock-blockin’ me.” Zack only shakes his head, confused at Tommy’s attitude. His boyfriend does have a point though, as Zack has long enjoyed the freedom of his and Tommy’s relationship. “I… I guess.” “Alright. Besides, you know I love that tight lil’ ass of yours.” - - - - - - - A few hours after Zack has left the apartment, Tommy is on his way to his first hookup. Emboldened by his and Zack’s earlier escapades, he brings the harness along with him. He knocks on the cream-colored door to his hookup’s apartment, wearing his harness proudly. “Are you Tommy?” A slim blonde opens the door in a tank top and shorts. “Call me Tom. You must be Jason.” Jason nods and ushers Tom into his apartment. “You’re uh.. you’re gorgeous man.” “Thanks. You wanna get a closer look?” - - - - - - - - Groaning, Tom has his arm wrapped around Jason’s neck as he raws the smaller man with an intense need. “Ahh, ahh daddy! Fuck me!” “Y-yeah, daddy’s gonna fill that hole of yours…” Tom chuckles at the term, he’d never considered himself much of a daddy, but it was getting him even harder. “Fill me daddy! Want you to – want you to breed me so bad!” The higher-pitched, needy groans of his bottom makes Tom work harder, pistoning back and forth into Jason, making the younger man gasp with each thrust. “M’ gonna cum! Gonna cum on your big cock!” Jason exclaims as he bucks into the sheets beneath him, spurts of white erupting from his cock as he falls limp beneath his top. Tom keeps pumping, but the silence and pants of his spent bottom is turning him off. “Y-you good, Jason? I haven’t finished yet...” Tom’s thrusts taper to a halt as he cranes his neck over to see Jason’s eyes fluttering. “Am I losing you?” “N-no… just, you know. Tired.” “But… I mean, daddy hasn’t cum yet?” “You can finish if you want. I’m just tired.” “…. you fuckin’ serious?” - - - - - - - - - - Tom left the hookup annoyed, his hardon stuffed back into his sweatpants, his harness traded for a t-shirt. He’d heard stories before about greedy bottoms, but he was having such a good time. “Fuckin’ kids. Bullshit.” Tom muttered to himself as he drove back to his apartment. He had a few other messages on Grindr he could tend to, but he was ready to forget about the site altogether and hit the hay. His cock softens as he drives home, and soon he’s in his creaking bed and falling asleep. The next day, Tom wakes up and preps for his usual routine. Off to his office gig, wearing a tight black dress shirt with just the right amount of cleavage exposed. His slacks were just as generous, painted on around his big thighs and gorgeous ass. Tom ignores most of his work for the day and browses Grindr, striking up conversation with the headless twinks that are swarming him. He blows most of them off, their vapid chat only making him shake his head. “Should just try Zack again.” Tom sighs and fires off a text message to his boyfriend before going back to his routine. After work, Tom checks in with Zack once again. He’s got a project due, so he can’t do anything tonight. Of course. Sighing, Tom heads to the gym and pumps some iron, working past his personal best, and heads to the locker room for some gratuitous selfies, with a twist. As he heads to the locker room, he scouts the area and locks the door behind him. “Heh.” With a smirk, Tom pulls the harness from his gym bag and wraps it around his chest, tightening it around his pumped pecs. His cock stiffens as the creamy leather touches his skin, and he tosses his shorts and shoes aside. Striding toward the mirror with his phone in his hand, he reaches down and adjusts his bulge with the other; letting it snake across his right thigh. Holding his phone out, Tom grips his cock through the fabric of his briefs and tilts his head, pouting his lips a bit. He snaps a photo and posts it on his profile, one hand sliding across his confined shaft, and posts it to his profile before moving to feel up his size. “Fuck yeah...” Tom throws his right arm into a flex, eying his bicep as it balls up beautifully. His cock pumps within its tight home, a wet spot forming at the tip as Tommy reaches up to pinch his right nipple. He tugs the warm nub, biting his lip as his cock jumps once more. “F-fuck… better than usual...” Tom takes a breath and starts on his other nipple, putting both hands to work as he teases the sensitive stubs. His cock throb’s violently within his briefs, precum soaking the fabric surrounding his fat cockhead as he pleasures himself, a bit of drool beading down the corner of his mouth. “Ooohh.. ahh fuckk… FUCK!” Tom throws his head back as his cock erupts in its fabric confines, hunching over as hot cream soaks his underwear. Hunching over, Tom bellows as his back snaps, his shoulders rippling as they stretch further out, his harness straining. The blissful stud thrusts his chest back outward, his abs tensing with his breaths of lust until they begin to bloom outward, tight around an expanding globe of bulk and mass. Tommy’s pecs fatten, hanging slightly lower, definition becoming pure rounded mass. His skin, once tanned and golden, darkens to a luscious brown hue, nose widening, taking on an exotic shape. Groaning once more, Tom falls toward the counter and braces himself as his rounded, athletic thighs expand, his legs cracking, back inching upward with new height as his underwear shreds apart, his hard cock smacking the bathroom counter, cum rocketing from his cock and splattering across the mirror as his thick glutes flex, freed from their prisons. The hairs on Tom’s pecs thicken, spreading up his shoulders and across his neck, darkening into a beard as matching trails snake down his thighs and across his ass, covering his upper and lower body with whispy black fur. Tom’s rigid hardon fattens, stretching upward as it spasms with each spurt of seed. The straining organ kisses Tommy’s bulky, distended abdominals, matting his pubes with sticky deposit as his pulsing testicles expand, straining his sack as hairs sprout across the surface. Lines of age and masculinity cross Tommy’s forehead, his brow jutting out as it densifies. “Y-yehh, awww fuck...” Tom’s voice is deeper, booming even, his adam’s apple more pronounced. His neck has broadened to match his wider shoulders, veins criss-crossing the surface as his beard connects with his darkening hair. Heaving, Tom stands silently as he rides out the remains of his sexual eruption. The lower part of the locker room mirror and sink are covered in trails of white that drip onto the tile floor. “Daddy’s fuckin’ horny today! Fuck!” Tom bellows in a gruff tone, a hand moving to his cock. He squeezes the shaft, jerking a few drops from his cockhead and rubbing them between his fatter fingers. He steps back to get a better view of himself, and feels something soft beneath his wider foot – a black leather jockstrap, splattered with his essence. “Was wonderin’ where that went!” Tom bends over and grabs the jock, threading his bulky thighs through it, his hardon refusing to calm as he stuffs his balls into the velvety pouch. The reddened head juts from the lip, still leaking as Tom smudges the beads of pre across the surface. Smirking, he grabs his phone and snaps a photo of his lower body. “Gonna stretch that tight ass of yours to the limit, boy.” He captions his photo and sends it to Zack, dick twitching at the thought of claiming his boy once again. A few minutes go by as he feels himself up in the mirror, rubbing his sticky hands across his chest, when a buzz is heard from the counter. “Who is this?” “Tommy? What the fuck happened?” “You don’t feel weird or anything?” “Tommy? Dude! You gotta fuckin’ talk to me!” Rolling his eyes, Tom opens up his phone. “What’s up?” “What’s up? You fucking hulked out on me again! You look like a fucking 40 year old!” Tom thought to himself… but he is 40. 42 to be exact. This wasn’t his first rodeo, but his trophy boyfriend seemed to have a bit of a kink for this hulk thing. Maybe he’ll indulge. “Yeah, and this hulk wants to smash your ass real bad, boy.” “… what?” “Daddy’s horny. Bet you would love to have daddy’s big dick fill your hole right?” Tom tugs his softening cock from his pouch and takes a video, gently kneading it in his hands. He fires it off to Zack, massaging himself as Zack types once again. “Wow. What a monster.” “Come to my apartment. Daddy wants to show you some of his toys.” - - - - - - - - - - Tom’s apartment is drastically different than the one he left earlier in the day. The barren, collegiate surroundings are now lushly appointed, with dark red walls and black accents. Luxurious leather fixtures abound, with dark wood floors and medieval-styled lighting. And a new, unmarked metal door to the right of the entryway. Zack is as awed by the new environment as he is by the hulking, hairy brute who insists he’s Zack’s boyfriend. Or, as he’d now like to be called, Master. “Behind this door, you are to address me as master. You do what I say. You cum when I say. I’m in control. Do you understand?” Zack hesitates for a moment. “Or do you need to be punished?” Zack’s cock jumps at the thought, betraying the uncertainty clouding his mind. “Y-yes… master...” Tom leads him past the door to a darkened room, a small light hanging from the ceiling and barely illuminating the polished cement floors. He locks the door behind him and takes a breath. “Safeword?” - - - - - - - Zack’s muffled shrieks of pain and pleasure bounce off the barren walls of Tom’s pleasure dungeon, shackled to a long wooden bench as Tom smacks his pert ass with wooden paddles. A tight collar sits at Zack’s neck, a bright red gag in his mouth. “And if you cum, it’s back to the bench. Understood?” Zack nods his head, his cheeks red, sweat beading down his forehead. Tom stows his paddles beneath the bench and grabs a thick, black plug from his cabinet. He pushes his free hand between Zack’s cheeks and stuffs the plug into his hole, eliciting another mad moan from his boy. “I’m going to unfasten you. When you’re off, you’re gonna pleasure your master. Got that?” Tom unlocks Zack’s restrains and lets the smaller boy fall to the floor, watching him move to his hands and knees. Tom kneels down and pops the gag out of Zack’s mouth, but his sub remains silent. The bigger man hunches over and pulls his jockstrap down, letting it fall between his hairy thighs. “Give your master a good cleaning.” Zack stares up at Tom’s broad back, his furry asscheeks thick and glistening. The scent of his manliness is apparent and rich, ripe even. He skitters over and pushes his nose between Tom’s ass, inhaling his rich musk as his cock throbs with want. Groaning, Zack sloppily tongues at Tom’s hole, the deep bellows of his master encouraging him as he laps at his daddy’s opening. Zack’s ass as he eats out his master, digging his nose into his ripe manhole. “F-fuck, boy… simmer down...” Tom groans as Zack pulls out, sitting back on his hands and knees as Tom stands up. “Good boy… tell ya what, daddy’s got a treat for ya.” Tom turns around, a cigar between his fingers. “You’re gonna get daddy’s cock all nice and wet so he can fuck ya real good, got that?” Zack’s dick springs up once again, finally getting a full view of Tom’s fat, uncut daddy cock. He nods eagerly, eyes wide at the sight of Tom lighting his cigar and taking a puff. “What’re you waitin’ for boy?” Zack rushes to Tom’s hard cock and laps at the head, tasting rich sweat and manliness from the mushroom head. Moaning, he takes the head into his mouth and starts to suckle, looking up at his master with eager eyes as Tom puffs on his cigar. The warm, smoky scent fills the room as Zack taking more of his master’s dick into his mouth as Tom crosses his arms around his hairy, thick chest. Tom’s bright pink nipples protrude from the dense fur coating his pecs, tantalizing to the point that Zack can’t stop staring as he sucks his master. Tom smirks as he realizes Zack’s want. “Yeh, they’re nice n’ sensitive too...” Tom starts to thumb his right nipple, his cock surging within Zack’s maw as the sub alternates between lapping at the shaft and twisting his lips across the head. Tom bellows as a jolt of precum spurts into Zack’s waiting mouth, making him groan from his musky taste. Tom fingers his thick pink nipple, his balls churning as he teases the pleasure center methodically. “Start puttin’ effort into it, boy.” Tom’s broad hand grabs Zack’s skull and pushes it down onto him, forcing his stout eight inches into the pup’s lips. Zack’s eyes water as his master blows a plume of smoke into his sub’s face. “I oughta put this out on your ass if you don’t get to business.” Zack starts to bob in earnest on Tom’s throbbing dick, obscene slurping noises accompanying the agile movements of his tongue on the red, needy shaft. Tom unlatches from his nipple and leans back as Zack buries his face in Tom’s wiry black bush, taking in the rough scent. He bucks forward, mouth opening slightly, knowing he might get put over the edge. “Alright boy, daddy’s gonna claim that tight ass of yours.” Zack disgorges, a string of pre hanging between his lips and Tom’s dick as he savors the taste of his master. Pulling away, Tom grabs Zack by the collar and pushes his head towards the floor, taking a knee to get a better view. “Ass up, bitch.” Zack thrusts his slim rear into the air, and Tom yanks on his tail and pulls it from Zack, letting his stretched hole gape for a moment. “Gonna seed that slutty lil’ hole of yours.” Tom teases, fingers brushing the stressed opening. He pushes two fat fingers into Zack, making his pup practically squeal in need. “Yeh, you want that tight lil’ hole stuffed full of big dick huh? Just a slut lookin’ to get bred. Aren’t ya?” Zack nods rapidly, tongue beginning to loll from his mouth. A third finger joins in, wetly flexing and working Zack’s opening as he blushes, the pain starting to overtake the pleasure. “Aww come on boy, how’s daddy gonna fill you if you can’t take a couple’a fingers? You wanna cum don’t you?” Zack’s dull, pleasured face is a bit more pained, and certainly more aware of his master testing his limits. A fourth finger wriggles into him and he’s contemplating his safeword, but those expert fingers have started to probe his prostate, sending droplets from his needy dick onto the ground. “You get all five in like a good boy, and daddy’ll let you cum. You got that?” Zack braces himself, trying to adjust his stance as he feels Tom’s fat, dexterous thumb begin to invade him. He contemplates the safeword once more, but remembers the old adage of “pain before pleasure” and powers through. Biting his lip, Tom balls up his fist and forces it into Zack with a wet slurp. Zack’s legs buckle beneath him as Tom starts to push in, twisting his fist to let Zack feel the full brunt. “You’re gonna get off on my fist boy...” Tom bellows as he rubs Zack’s prostate once again, flexing and thrusting his fist into Zack as he hears his lover’s moans. “n’ when you cum, you’re gonna call out my name. You better call out my name, slut.” Zack bucks his ass upward, his hardon bobbing beneath him as his master stretches his hole. “Y-yeah, ohhh… d-daddy, fuck, fuck!” “What’s my name!?” “T-ahhh… TOM, TOAHHhhh-” Streams of white erupt from Zack’s overstimulated cock, gushing across the cement floor as his balls surge. Tom feels Zack cumming around his fist, feeling his muscles clenching as his sub orgasms. Drool oozes from Zack’s mouth, puddling on the floor as he cums violently. Tom starts to work his cock as he sees his sub give in, watching the boy come undone only turns him on more. “Gonna feels so good when I fill that slutty hole of yours, boy.” - - - - - - - - - Zack’s hole is on full display, his lean body strapped to an angled table in the middle of Tom’s pleasure cave. Tom turns a gear and tightens Zack’s restrains further, pulling his arms and legs out wider as he kneels down to see Zack’s abused entrance. “So loose and wet for daddy. Good lil’ slut.” “Y-yes master, want you to.. to claim my hole...” Zack tries to rut onto the steel table, his hardon weeping, but Tom tightens the gears to keep him from wriggling. “It’s not your time anymore, slut.” A devilish grin crosses Tom’s visage as he steps forward, rubbing his stout, fat dick between Zack’s blushing cheeks. His hot breath runs across Zack’s neck, resting his head on the boy’s shoulders as he grips Zack’s waist. “Now take daddy’s big dick, slut.” With a labored thrust Zack is penetrated, Tom’s thick member driving into his used hole with an intense drive. Tom’s sweaty, furry musclegut and rounded pecs rub against Zack’s slim back, Tom’s grip moving up to Zack’s shoulders as he fucks his bitch like a man. Tom drives hard into the smooth twink, grunting with each heavy thrust, Zack’s stretched hole offering only the slightest resistance as Tom forces his full length into his sub. “Ain’t… gonna be long, fu-fuck.. FUCK...” Tom’s thrusts intensify, becoming faster as the beefy stud knows his big finish is approaching. He reaches up and pushes Zack’s head to the table, grunting as he fucks his bitch. “Y-ohh.. YEAH!” With a roar, Tom blows his load into his lover, bucking wildly into him as gushes of white spurt out around his cock, oozing down the table to Tom’s feet as he fills his sub. His animalistic mating echoes loudly, causing Zack’s stomach and chest to bang on the table as he finishes. “Oooh… ohhh fu—fuck yeahhh...” Tom’s voice tapers off into a deep growl, massive veins rocketing across his forearms and down his back as his deltoids bulge, thrusting his shoulders back as they stiffen and expand with new bulk. Thick black hair races across his back, spreading down the taper of his waist as it tightens, his chest barreling outward and forcing Zack back onto the table. Tom gnaws at the air, his thighs forcing his legs apart as they ripple with growth and strength, dense hair multiplying across the surface of his lower body. His calves bulge and stretch, back flaring out further as he gains more height. His blocky, rounded gut swells further, matching his cartoonish pecs in width, harness resting on the top of his solid muscle belly. Tom’s hair tightens across his skull, receding into a jet black crew cut that fades into his clean-cut beard, curls of fur spiraling out of his chest and tickling Zack’s smooth back. Sharp pains erupt in his fat pink nipples as his weight rests on Zack, large silver rings appearing on his chest, another blooming out of his broad nose. The eruptions of seed into Zack intensify as Tom hulks out once more, to the point where his smooth abs have begun to bloat from the volume of Tom’s release. Soon, Zack’s rigid cock pulses out a load of its own across the table, then another. The two begin to cum in unison, Zack’s moans growing higher as Tom feels Zack’s ass starting to cradle him, not realizing the twink’s rear is swelling. The flat, bubbly surface inflates into two snow-white globes, Zack’s skinny thighs strengthening as he keeps himself from falling limp. Zack’s flat chest blooms outward with new, squared pecs, undefined stomach crunching into a solid six-pack to match. The dusting of black on his chest disappears, his pubes sucking inward as his body takes on a golden tan, hair being slicked upward by an unseen force as it lightens to platinum blonde. The changing twink feels a bulge within his hole and screams, the hard object poking at his most sensitive areas as his release starts to slow, Tom’s tapering off as well. With an obscene SHLLURP, Tom pulls his cock from his lover to reveal a bulky silver Prince Albert piercing the head of his oversized cock, covered in warm essence. - - - - - - - - - Tom’s hairy, thick body was on full display at Pride, having traded up to a lavish five-point harness that wraps around his musclegut and back, accenting his broad frame. Zack followed him, leash dangling from his collar as he basked in his new life, doting on his monstrous muscle daddy.

To Become an alpha This is not a TF story yet. You have read accounts of people going through exponential muscle growth some exaggerated second-hand retelling and some even outright fake and after loads of these stories you want the same for you, there is a way. You will need the following items: 5 candles. Box of Matches. Chalk. Salt. A gift what you tried to use to get in shape such Diet pills or dumbells hell even a piece of lettuce will work. Now for the method when the sun is down and you are completely alone ( side note this transformation is really painful so it is a private matter ) usually after 9:00 pm put a P on the front door of your this will signify that you want to join the pack of alphas using some of the chalk ( side note there is no way to back out once you start like other rituals of this nature) go back inside and use the next 2 hours to gather the rest of the items. At 11:00 PM, Draw your pentagram on the floor using the chalk put a candle on each of the five points and light them, put your offering in the center. Stand Behind your offering bend down a draw a circle of salt around yourself ( this is the only backup you will have if things go wrong) and say the words “come in I’m ready” by now he will be outside your door The Rules: 1. The gift must be something you actually tried to get in shape with. 2. You must not look at the being 3. The circle of salt must be complete 4. Act with decorum when in the presence of the entity even though you will be an alpha he will be yours so treat him with respect. The consequences 1. If you look at him he will not be happy and will leave he might take your gift, though. 2. If you do not treat him with respect he punish you with such a brutal fucking you will most likely not survive 3. If your gift is not something you tried to change yourself with he will absorb you and become more powerful ( this is by far the worst thing you can do ) The Reward. For the rest of your days, you will dominate any room you walk into, get anything by just asking for it and you will have the perfect body with loads of hair all over it, your penis and balls will double in size and your face will become more masculine. Also, you will almost always unless you are fooling around with the entity who made you. Ending the ritual. After your transformation say thank you but I need to experience my new body by myself. Say you enjoyed his company wait until you hear the door close then turn around dismantle the pentagram and circle of salt and after looking in the mirror and probably jacking off go to bed in the morning take the P off your and your new awesome life. Please feel free to add your experiences below if you have tried the ritual.