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“Just need to connect the cord, pair the touch pad, and then sync it to our system and we should be all set to go!”, grinned Charlie. His red hair bounced across his forehead as he emerged from under the kiosk. “Hopefully this should help us rack in a few more tips huh?” His Australian accent was oh so charming to hear. Most guests, men and women, were always taken aback at the deep voice and accent reverberating out of the thin and lanky red-head. His black square framed glasses were definitely out of style but worked for him. Brushing part of his red bang, he kept his hair more on the shaggy side. Charlie liked to sport some light stubble on his face but nothing too thick. Amongst the limited staff, Charlie acted as the bonafide tech support and was definitely a hard worker. “It better bring in more! I need more spending money and these tips have just been low blows right after another. What am I supposed to do with a few dimes? I can’t even buy a candy bar in this economy. Besides, how am I supposed to fund my clubbing hobby?” Tanner groaned. The sun-kissed tan blonde hair man was sitting on the counter top, doing minimal to contribute as always. His polo was cradling his above average chest, a light sprawl of chest hair poking near the top. In contrast, his freshly clean boyish face contrasted from his smug personality. Innocent with a saucy side. “Please as if! You deserve the least of the tips! All you do is lean on counters and tables, trying to flirt with all of our guests! For the last time pick a shirt that is one size bigger no one wants to see your party hats! They’re going to poke someone’s eye out and cause us a lawsuit one of these days.” Hwan scoffed. He and Tanner had a sibling rivalry type relationship while working. Hwan typically kept Tanner in check and pulled him away by his polo collar, back to his work stations. Similar to Tanner, Hwan was athletic and spent time in the gym, but did not sleep there like Tanner. Hwan preferred to keep more of a swimmer’s build, toned and tight in the right places in his uniform. Tanner was more of a lifter and liked to show off his bulging arms and chest. Hwan would always tease Tanner to make sure to do leg day so he wouldn’t look like an upside-down Dorito. “Thank you Charlie for your hard work. I assume these two decided to just sit around and be nothing but “moral support” as per usual?” Marcos chided. He punched Tanner’s arm playfully and rummaged Hwan’s hair as he walked over to the newly installed addition to the kiosk. Marcos was the brand new owner of this small little coffee shop. Considered to be the “oldest” one of the group, if being “35” was considered old, the other men treated him as if he were the Crypt Keeper. Thick brown hair coiffed neatly on his head shined with hair product under the cafe lights, his polo tight on his chest and arms. He had a little bit of a belly in comparison to the other men, but he enjoyed a good meal. Marcos was always hearing Hwan and Tanner comparing new dieting tips consistently, their meal prep list, and the foundations of bulking. He would always tell them it’s not bad to have a little bit of bulk going on. No complaints were ever made to him! Besides who would want to cut out the joys of food! That was one of the reasons why he opened up his little shop. A welcoming environment, an inviting warmth to chat and bond of espresso and little pastries. Okay, maybe a bit more than just “little” pastries. Some came in different large sizes and Marcos always had to test them each morning for “quality assurance”. Some crumbs would always give him away as they would stick in his facial hair. Charlie was the only nice one, letting him know if he had a snack left in his beard for later. Meanwhile Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee would snicker and make mocking expressions. From an outsider's perspective, you would not think to find these four men to have such a close relationship, but you would be incredibly surprised. Initially, these four met while working at another restaurant. Hwan and Charlie were servers, Tanner was a bus boy, and Marcos was one of the supervisors that oversaw the shifts. It was always Marcos’ dream to be his own boss and run his own little business that he could call his own. Somewhere he could have a chosen family of his own. Originally from a small town in Italy, Marcos came to the United States when he was in his early 20s. Working odd jobs here and there, he developed his own skills and abilities into a supervisor. Wanting to bring a little piece of home with him, he finally succeeded in saving enough, receiving loans, and finding a small spot available for his cafe. Being the way the economy currently was though, rent was a pain in the ass to make but he managed to cut out a good deal with the landlord. Being from Italy as well, the two bonded over their childhood stories and what it was like immigrating over to the United States. Taking the opportunity in that moment, Marcos showcased his own roast of espresso he had been working to perfect for years. Pairing it with a pastry he hand-baked himself while sharing the story of the two’s taste palettes, the landlord was taken back on a trip to his favorite spots back at home. Needless to say, that small little “bribe” was enough to seal the deal between the two men. Paired with a nice cut to the rent and the building Marcos’ business was now occupying being a little older, most of his worries were gone for the most part. To keep his business special, he opted to work with local businesses and farms to provide the ingredients and necessities needed to have great quality in his products. For staff, he already knew he wanted to take the three other men with him away from the restaurant they were working in. Management was not great and he knew he could help take care of the young guys better. In celebration of the business surviving three months with no problems, Marcos decided to add another little finishing touch to help support his staff. Although Tanner was a bit of a flirt and air head, he was a good kid. Hwan was diligent in his craftsmanship and was a hard worker, but he would often get distracted with Tanner and fool around. Charlie was for sure an ace to Marcos. Not only tech support, but tried to withhold standards and great business practices. Plus, he was the de facto wrangler, always making sure Tanner and Hwan were doing what they needed to do. All in all, they all worked well and great under pressure and catered to all of their guests! Quite frankly, most of their clientele was male. Rumors of four hot guys in tight polo’s at a small little coffee shop spread like wildfire in certain communities. Finishing booting up the application on the kiosk, the celebration gift to them all was finally up and running. Most applications were somewhat pricey to install and reading the reviews, did not give the best output. After extensive research, Marcos came across a brand new app that received great reviews, albeit there were minimal statements on it. Listed on a reddit page and a few links later, “Our Pleasure” was now installed onto the kiosk for tips and gratuity, for great hospitality. Booting it up, the four men stood around to receive coaching on how it worked. Charlie tapped the application and the words “Our Pleasure” in a white font surrounded by pastel pink lit up the screen. ~Welcome and thank you for installing “Our Pleasure”, a new way to receive tips and gratuity that can increase your growing revenue and joy! This application is still working out a few kinks, but if any glitches or trouble arises, please use the contact number supplied under Settings. Charlie tapped the screen and the message faded. More text faded in like a power point transition. ~Tutorial: Please supply the names of the Staff you would like to enter to receive tips and gratuity, then follow up by selecting one of the icons to represent them! It seemed simple enough. Charlie went first as he was already operating the application. Adding his name and then scrolling through the options were a bunch of cute little cartoon animals. They had little designs on them and you could customize them a little bit. Settling on a Horse, Charlie made the mane more reddish in color to match his own hair while adding a cute little pastry hat onto its head. Tanner took the reins next, inputting his name with a slight little spelling mistake that got Hwan to insult him before he fixed it. His larger fingers pounded on the digital keypad and began to scroll through the different options. “There’s too many to pick from! How am I supposed to decide?” Tanner groaned. Hwan interrupted, “Just pick the peacock, you’re always pruning yourself like one and trying to show off. Hurry up and be done with it.” Tanner conceded and scrolled backward to the peacock, adding a little apron onto it. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hwan grinned at Tanner, resulting in Tanner rolling his eyes. Putting in his name, Hwan already knew what animal he wanted to select as he saw it earlier when the other two men were scrolling through. An otter! Perfect fit! Hwan enjoys cuddling and is a swimmer, it was a perfect match. Hwan put some little rosy cheeks onto the otter and a little coffee cup on top of its head. “Your turn boss, you’re the last one!” Charlie looked over to Marcos who was enjoying seeing the men get excited over his newest idea. “I’m your boss, I don’t need tips. It’s all for you guys. That’s why I wanted to get something like this installed.” “Don’t be a party pooper boss, you help out equally enough. Besides, there is probably a setting to get rid of or limit the tips you receive. Just add yourself on for some recognition and reviews at least.” Charlie smiled, doing his best to convince Marcos to join in with the others. Tanner and Hwan grunted and nodded their head yes in agreement, following Charlie’s lead. “Fine, if I don’t I know what you three are capable of. You’ll annoy me to no end or make me a little profile without my consent anyways. Might as well have a crack at it. Alright let’s see…” Marcos tapped to make his own profile. Setting himself up, he looked in the setting’s tab and did not see an option to limit any tips or gratuity. There was no harm in just splitting whatever he made into thirds and adding it onto the next paycheck for each guy. That way Marcos would still participate while also giving back to the boys. Scrolling through the options, Marcos was coming to realize that Tanner was right. Lots of choices to choose from and they all did look super cute. “Alright boys, what do you think I should go with? You better help me out since you’re making me do this.” Marcos looked over to the three men. “You give off Papa Bear energy ya know, so maybe the bear? You always watch over us and call us ‘your boys.’” Tanner shrugged. “You do also enjoy your alone time working in the office and staying after hours. Always never wanting to accept our help either, so the wolf could also work for you too.” Hwan spoke up after pondering the choices. “You two think too one dimensional.”, Charlie sighed, “If we think about the boss as a whole, he is always someone that we can look up to in our time of need. It might be cute to pair that with the giraffe.” Considering all three options, Marcos liked all three equally. It was flattering to hear the reasoning behind each selection the different boys thought of. It was kind of cute that they all thought about him in different ways, even if Hwan’s reasoning had a bit of a sassy undertone in it. That was just the usual though. “You all make good cases, however one of you put in a little extra oomf into their reasoning, and for that I will go with...drum roll please…” Marcos began to pat the kiosk like a drum. Hwan and Tanner matched what he was putting down and began to bang extra loud to keep up and outdo the boss. “Giraffe! Congratulations Charlie. Also Charlie was the ONLY person to HELP with installing this app as a bonus. Points for creativity as well.” Charlie grinned smugly, looking over at the two jock’s. Tanner huffed while Hwan stuck out his tongue. “As for decoration, I don’t really care. I’ll let you three decide. Nothing inappropriate though Tanner and Hwan. I’m leaving Charlie in charge of you both while I finish doing the receiving out back that you two were supposed to be helping with.” Marcos waved, while sassing Hwan and Tanner. “But like, why are you trying to make us work? Specifically me, I am too pretty to work.”, Tanner leaned back onto the counter, staring up at the light as if he were ready to receive a bucket of water over him. “This is exactly why I said you are a peacock. Now go help the boss out. You left me yesterday to do it alone too and you gotta pull some weight around here. Not only at the gym.” Hwan quipped. “I’ll leave the app to you Charlie. If there’s any bugs or odd things about it let me know. Otherwise, it’s almost showtime!” ===================================================================== Just like that, the store was ready to go! Trying to keep some of the culture from his home, the coffee shop was only open for a few hours a day. Nothing like your average 12-16 hour joint that kept the poor employees as chained prisoners. Having the limited staffing also helped with the limited hours. To compensate, the money that Marcos was saving from rent did help balance out the wages each of the boys were receiving. Each man was making more than the minimum wage and also at a competitive rate from other joints around. Many argued it was not a great business practice to Marcos and that he may find himself going under, but this was something he held to a higher degree. Each of the boys also were aware of their hourly rates and often went out of their way to help Marcos out whether on the clock, off the clock, on a day off, or checking up on him when he was off. Marcos loved his boys. Typically, each guy was not needed at 5 AM to begin their shift, but because of the app installation and walkthrough, all four men were in the house before opening the doors at 8 AM. Charlie continued to fiddle with the app and the settings to see if functions properly worked or if there were special questions needing answering before continuing with tips and gratuity. Grabbing one of the testing gift cards Marcos had set aside to practice transactions, Charlie got to work. With Tanner helping Marcos with receiving and Hwan away to set up the bar, Charlie was left to his own devices in front of house. “Let’s see here, let’s start with Tanner.” Charlie clicked the peacock symbol and it lit up, a purplish-green hue surrounded it. Moving up to the top of the screen, the peacock flew upward, revealing gratuity options. ~ How much would you like to tip today? 0% 10% 15% Custom Charlie tapped the 15%. Which of the following funds would you like it to be provided toward? A Fund - B Fund - C Fund - H Fund - L Fund - M Fund - P Fund - S Fund - T Fund Raising an eyebrow, Charlie had no idea what this even meant. At every other establishment, you would just click the percentage, tap or insert a card, and then go. This was probably one of the kinks the application mentioned early on. Clicking the cogwheel in the upper right hand corner, Charlie was trying to see what these “Funds” could mean. Taking a few minutes to gander, he ended up with limited information. It was an option to toggle some of them on and off, but for testing measures, Charlie decided to leave them all on for now. Shrugging he waved his finger across each one before randomly landing on one. “C-Fund it is then.” Tapping the card, the gratuity went through the peacock fluttering down with a little animated “Thank You” beside it. Onto the next! Selecting the otter, a light brown hue surrounded it. Upon tapping the furry little critter, it swam in a circle before rising up to the top of the screen. ~ How much would you like to tip today? 0% 10% 15% Custom Charlie tapped the 10% this time. Which of the following funds would you like it to be provided toward? A Fund - B Fund - C Fund - H Fund - L Fund - M Fund - P Fund - S Fund - T Fund Playing the previous little game of eeny meanie miny moe in his head, Charlie’s finger landed onto a different fund this time, the “T-Fund ''. Once again, Charlie tapped the card and it went through no problems at all. Rubbing its blushing cheeks, “Thank you” was animated by the otter. Okie-dokie now for the bosses turn. Seeing the decked out giraffe with sunglasses, an apron, and a top hat got a kick out of Charlie. A yellow-ish hue surrounded the animal before it’s neck stretched upward and its body followed suit to the top of the screen. ~ How much would you like to tip today? 0% 10% 15% Custom Curious, Charlie tapped Custom. A new keypad opened up where he could select the percentage of what could be added that differed from the base settings. He thought his boss deserved something special, so he picked 20% to sweeten the pot. Which of the following funds would you like it to be provided toward? A Fund - B Fund - C Fund - H Fund - L Fund - M Fund - P Fund - S Fund - T Fund Not wanting to use the same two received by Hwan & Tanner, Charlie pondered and decided to randomly select the A Fund. Starting off the alphabet and starting off the business, it was a great coincidence. Pushing onto the A-Fund the 20% gratuity made its way to the little giraffe. Last but not least, it was finally Charlie’s turn. Picking his decked out, luscious red-maned horse, it had a beige hue. Galloping up to the top of the screen, the all too familiar prompt displayed itself. ~ How much would you like to tip today? 0% 10% 15% Custom Although tasked to test out the tipping system, Charlie felt kind of bad to give himself too much. Especially since he was dividing up the small funds on the gift card between the four men anyhow. Morally, he selected the 10% option. He felt better about that. Now for the funding selection. He already tried three of the options so far, repeating any of the ones selected prior would defeat the purpose of finding any kinks in the system. Charlie settled on the P-Fund. Upon completion of the transaction, Charlie felt a slight vibration tingling from somewhere on his body. A little bit of tingling almost like a slight little zap or maybe even static enveloped him, but he couldn’t quite figure out where.. Continuing to last for a few seconds, Charlie realized it was coming from his groin. He could feel himself getting a little chub, the front of his pants growing a tad bit stiffer and tighter. Nothing too obscene, but just enough to make a difference to himself. Just as the feeling had appeared, it had vanished. Adjusting himself, Charlie sighed, getting horned up at work again? He had jacked off the night before and didn’t expect to be getting horny again. It was barely 8 AM the last time he had checked the time! Setting aside the gift card, an exclamation point appeared on the cogwheel. It continued to bounce up and down, doing its best to alert the user in front of it. Cocking his eye toward the bouncing little symbol, Charlie decided to finally pay it attention, tapping it to quell its insistent hopping. Scrolling down the previous options he had investigated, he noticed nothing too out of the ordinary other than a new section that had seemed to unlock. Odd, he could have sworn the tab wasn’t there earlier. It was labeled “Analytics”. Each of the cartoonish animal emoticons were filed under this new section. Tapping over each one, it showed the current percentages of gratuity received in the latest hours. Glancing it over, the peacock had 15%, the otter had 10%, the giraffe had 20%, and lastly the horse had 10%. Nodding, the math seemed to check out to Charlie. The analytics were graphed by each hour. Adjusting the parameters, Charlie switched the times to when the kiosk was operational, which only lasted until 3:00 PM. As mentioned previously, with a small shop and staff, the hours were not too long. Opening up a side tab on the same page, Charlie noticed that some numbers that were not percentages seemed to be a tad bit different for each guy. Not only that, Charlie realized some of his own personal information was listed on his “profile”. At least, from what he could make of it. ~Analytic Function: Perspective Age: 24 H: 6/0 M: Light P: 7.64 Interesting, looks like his age has already been input into his profile. Had he put it in when he was creating his profile? Maybe he had…it was a little hard to remember. Being a bit scatterbrained at times Charlie just accepted he put the information as a force of habit. “H”, “M”, and “P” though… that was different. Very vague as well. Perhaps he could get an idea after checking out the other “profiles”. Age: 23 H: 5/11 M: Tone P: 6.0 Age: 26 H: 6/1 M: Above Average P: 7.5 Age: 35 H: 5/9 M: Stocky P: 6.5 Must just be a lot of business jargon or other mumbo jumbo that was automatically listed under everyone’s profiles in accordance with the analytics with their tips. Age being the odd one out Charlie thought, but not unusual he supposed. Swiping out of the section, he moved back to the toggling aspects available for each of the men. Counting a total of nine funds was way too many, and considering the fact he had no idea what each one could even stand for, eliminating them would cause less confusion for guest’s. Tipping should be easy, and not everyone is tech savvy. Pushing his glasses off his nose and rubbing his eyes, Charlie was hoping this would be the last thing he would be doing on the app for today. His eyes were beginning to strain and he still had the rest of the work day to get through. Taking in a deep breath, holding it in, and exhaling (looks like those modules the boss had him sit through were actually used for something), Charlie got back to work. ~Funds have been removed, would you like to keep the current selection? H Fund - M Fund - P Fund Charlie selected yes. ~Funds have been removed, would you like to keep the current selection? B Fund - P Fund - T Fund Charlie selected yes. Hopefully whatever these funds that Charlie kept unlocked on Hwan’s profile would be okay with him. Granted, Charlie thought Hwan wouldn’t really mind. ~Funds have been removed, would you like to keep the current selection? A Fund - C Fund - L Fund Tapping the selected yes button once again, Charlie was glad he was almost done. As long as Tanner was receiving tips in one form or another, Charlie thought he probably wouldn’t care what funds he left open. ~Funds have been removed, would you like to keep the current selection? A Fund - C Fund - S Fund Pondering for a moment, Charlie thought about adding one extra fund for his boss. He was in charge after all, then again he said he was not really accepting tips anyways. Perhaps he could add on an extra fund later down the line for everyone. Testing the waters for a few days wouldn’t be so bad. Saving all the changes, the app configurations seemed to all be settled. For now at least. A little pinwheel took center stage on the screen, with animated text reading “rebooting”. A little zap and pop sounded off from the kiosk, like static. The screen’s pastel and text welcomed the next user. Looks like a job well done to Charlie. Leaving the kiosk and heading over to the whiteboard to oversee what tasks were distributed to the guys today, Charlie adjusted his pants one final time, fixed his glasses, and set out. Over at the kiosk, with no eyes to gaze upon the screen, the four cartoon animals glowed with their respective hues.
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Chapter 1 ~ Fizzing with Power I had just arrived home from a long and exhausting day at the office. It had been a very dull and tedious afternoon of number crunching, book balancing, and generally just hating life. Upon locking my car, I felt relief wash over me knowing that I had crossed the work/home threshold and officially entered the weekend. TGIF, indeed! Two lovely days with my hubby, Dustin. Two, quiet, relaxing, cozy, uneventful- BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRUUUUUUURRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRUUUUU-! "What in the hell was that?" A loud and catastrophic noise had erupted from inside the house, accompanied by a small tremor that I felt all the way from the driveway. Had something just blown up!? Maybe there had been a gas leak? Was my husband alright!? I didn't see or smell any smoke. My blood running instantly cold and fueled by pure instinct, I bolted for the house and threw open the door. "DUSTIN!? HONEY!? Are you alright?" I called out in panic. "O-oh, sure b-UUUuRrRrAaARP-abe, I'm fine. Welcome home!" called out a familiar voice from the kitchen. "Thank heavens! You had me worried sick, honey. What on Earth was that noise I heard outsi-" As I made my way into the kitchen, the sight that greeted me nearly made me pass out. Although my husband's handsome face gazed back at me with a warm smile, the body it was attached to was absolutely, positively not his. It was as though someone had photoshopped his head onto another man. Specifically, a man built like an industrial fridge. Dustin had always been a decently fit fellow. He had a fair bit of lean sinew before, but this... This bod was an absolutely enormous. An obscenely thick brick wall of pure muscle stacked like a super-heavyweight bodybuilder. He could step onto an Olympia stage right now and handily take first place. He was shirtless, sporting an extremely overfilled pair of sweatpants and sneakers he usually wore while jogging. He had a tight rippling 6-pack stomach, but it was bulging out, bloated and full. A half-dozen soda cans littered the table next to an empty plastic six-pack ring (properly cut with scissors, bless his animal-loving heart). A plethora of different packs sat piled on the table unopened. "Like what you seeeeee, baby?" Dustin said with a coy wink, crunching his left arm and pec in for a hearty flex, "Notice anything diiiiiiiifferent?" "I- Wha- How did- Who- Wha-" I stammered overwhelmed and flabbergasted, my glasses practically steaming over as I blushed at the sight of him. My husband opened his mouth to speak again, but no words came out. Instead, after a brief touch of his hand to his lips and a slightly stifled hiccup, he proceeded to let out, by far, the longest, loudest, and deepest man belch I had ever heard in my entire life. BLUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUU-!!! His powerful emission lasted for ten unbroken seconds, blasting with so much force that it blew my hair back. Everything in the kitchen rattled and clanged as the room rumbled from the vibrations. A cutting board clacked to the ground while the broom we kept propped by the fridge toppled with a clatter. As his eruption continued, I could see all his of his muscles begin to tighten and flex. And then they just kept on flexing, growing and thickening a little bigger than before the belch. It starting at his tensed bull neck and slowly working its way down his body to his dynamite calves. It was as though the air blasting out of him was, somehow, inflating his body with solid mass. That wasn't an explosion I had felt shake our entire property earlier - it was Dustin burping. "-UUUUUURP!!! Whoo!" the muscular lug cheered after catching his breath, "FUCK, that still feels AMAZING every time." He flexed a crab pose, springing his entire upper body to life and causing several veins to bulge to the surface. I bit my lip. He looked... spectacular. I had never ever pressured Dustin to bulk up, but, secretly, I had always fantasized about it. I'd dreamed of what it would be like if my cute hubby packed on a few pounds of muscle. And here he was with, not just a few pounds, but an entire cow's worth of additional beef compared to the man I had kissed goodbye before work this morning. I found myself lost for words as I drank in every inch of him. "D-Dustin, sweetie, how... how did you get so... like this? You're JACKED. S-SHREDDED! SWOLE as HELL! A-and why are you burping like a humanoid bomb??" I finally managed to putter out. "Oh, Franky, BABY, it's this POP!" he replied with childish glee, "It's amazing! Every sip, every gulp, every burp... it all pumps my bod up, like magic." To emphasize that last bit, he bounced his fat, juicy pecs several times. I could've sworn they let out audible thumps with every flex. "Wh-where on Earth did you get... m-magic muscle soda??" I asked, stumbling yet more of my words between utter disbelief and stifling the urge to moan. "I found it shopping at that new grocery store down the street today," he recollected while holding up one of the empty cans in his now much thicker fingers, "It just sorta, like... called out to me from a shelf in the ba-uuuURrRrRrRurrp! 'Scuse me, babe. A shelf in the back. I only took one six-pack to start, just to try it out. But after trying a sip in the parking lot I was SO smitten with the stuff that I turned right back around and scooped up every flavor they had." I grabbed the can from his muscly paw and read the label. With a logo shaped like a flexing muscle man, it read: 'Bulka Cola Classic - Fizzing with POWER!' "I've never heard of this brand before..." I muttered, turning the can slowly in my hands. There was no nutritional information to be found, but there was an ingredients list. It was... incomprehensible. Although it had the expected sugar and flavoring, the majority of it was a strange and lengthy laundry list of nonsense words like 'Donglongus bulginate,' 'high-flexthose gunsyrup,' and 'benchpressic deltaflex.' The pragmatic side of my brain began to override the hornball side as I read each bizarre addition to the brew. "D-Dustin, honey... are you, uh... are you sure this stuff is, y'know, safe? This concoction could be toxic for all we know. It could be laced with drugs or poison or..." "I mean, I've already drank six of the suckers so far and I'm feelin' fine. In fact, I feel... flexcellent." he punctuated his lame, but flirtatious, pun with double bicep pose and another wink. I swallowed hard, transfixed by my husbands bodacious beautiful bis. Those cannons must have been well over 20 inches. As hard as I resisted, Horny Brain was immediately back in the driver's seat. I dove like a hungry hawk, jamming my face firmly into his bicep, and started kissing and nuzzling like mad. "Heh heh heh heh heh, gosh you're cute. I'm glad you like my new equipment. My body is all yours, babe. And while you enjoy that, I think I'm gonna try me a sip of the root beer next..." Dustin had scooped me close in a muscular hug, my face mashed firmly into his throbbing arm. Lost in my passionate worship of that bicep, I heard the familiar hiss of a fresh can of soda being opened. My already furious boner throbbed hard at the thought of Dustin getting even bigger. I bit into his bicep like a ravenous animal, but my teeth could barely make a dent in the rock-solid meat. *Gulp* *Chug* *Glurp* *Slurp* The sound of each hearty sip going down his throat was like music to my ears... but another, less expected sound soon followed suit. The distinct sound of stitches straining and struggling was coming from down near the floor. The awkward noise snapped me out of my carnal trance long enough to look down. It was Dustin's shoes. With every gulp of root beer, his sneakers were getting a bit tighter as his feet - and only his feet- grew a bit bigger. By the time he finished the can, they were on the verge of bursting, but just barely held together. "Damn, I think that was even tastier than the cola, haha," my hulking husband said while crushing the can flat against his forehead like a college frat boy. "But it's weird, this time my muscles didn't grow, it just feel like my shoes g-GGGGGWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRP!" Another monumental belch abruptly exploded from Dustin's mouth. Now that I was in direct contact with him during a burp, it was like pressing my body against the world's largest vibrator. He'd always been good at letting 'em rip. I had never mentioned it to him directly, but... it always turned me on a bit when he let out a nice long, deep belch after a good meal. Not only because that meant he enjoyed whatever I cooked, but there was this, like... inherently macho, dominant quality to them. Like a confident, manly roar. As the belch went on, Dustin's feet began to absolutely SURGE in size. First his long toes busted out of the fronts with a pair of loud, prominent pops - POOMP! THOOMP! Then his widening soles rapidly blew out the sides. The sad tatters of his former sneakers fluttered to the floor, defeated. His socks briefly held on, albeit stretched so thin they were near-transparent, but one solid flex of each foot tore through them like tissue paper. What remained were a pair of feet so utterly gargantuan, they would have made the tallest basketball players on the planet feel inadequate. Big Foot would've been jealous of those stompers. Dustin and I had recently gone for a pedicure together, so his feet were in pristine condition. Now they were both immaculately groomed AND massive enough to cover most of my scrawny torso. And BEEFY! His feet seemed to have gotten every bit as muscular as the rest of his body, unnaturally thick with mass. Between the sight of his growing feet, the warm embrace of his muscles, and the vibration of his belch, I came HARD in my pants, right there in the kitchen. It was the single most intense orgasm of my entire life (up to that point, at least). My legs buckled, and he tightened his embraced as I gripped onto him for support. I was still moaning in overwhelmed pleasure as the roar of Dustin's belch tapered off. "WHOO, what a RUSH, ahahaha!" he boomed in satisfaction, "And by the sound of it, babe, you had fun too." "I... mess... pants... sh-shaking... b-b-big feet... h-h-hot... lo... love you..." I babbled out incoherently, lost in my post-orgasmic delirium. "Love you too, hon. But I gotta wonder - why only my feet this time?" He lifted his massive right foot and flexed the long, wide toes, spreading and clenching the enormous sausages. Dear lord, they were immaculate. "Maybe there's something different in this flavor, or..." Dustin looked at the remaining five root beer cans on the table with the intent of reading the ingredients, but he let out another hearty laugh simply seeing the logo on the can. "Aaaaaahaha - well, it's no wonder! This isn't Bulka Cola's ROOT beer soda - it's FOOT beer!" "Wha-...?" I looked at the cans in a groggy afterglow haze as he held them up to my face. They did, indeed, say "Bulka Foot Beer ~ Stomping with POWER!" The logo slightly different, featuring the same muscle man mascot lifting a big, exaggerated foot up to prospective customers. "It looks like all the flavors have different body part puns in the names," Dustin observed, jostling the various six-packs on the table around to get a better look. "Mountain Glutes, Quadermelon, Veinilla, Pectorange, Dr. Pythons... I have a feeling I know what part Cherry Pop is for, ahaha! I guess the classic cola flavor just kinda enhances everything a little bit, while the rest of 'em concentrate on a specialty." I also had a feeling I knew what Cherry Popper grew. My nostrils flared in unhinged lust imagining the possibilities each of those names implied. "Dustin, honey... H-how many flavors did you buy?" "Let's see... there were four shelves, and they each had four flavors... Oh! And there was an exclusive bonus flavor offered at checkout when you bought enough cases. Sooooo... 17 kinds altogether. Hehu, I guess we've got a lot of experimenting to do, eh, babe?" Logic and reasonable doubt had been kicked to the curb, flooded out by pure desire. How big could my husband get? How would the house hold up if he gets too big? How will we afford to feed a hulking he-man? How many other people in this town are going to become enormous drinking this stuff if it's sitting on grocery store shelves? None of that mattered right now. I just wanted Dustin to keep trying new flavors and indulge in the beautifully grotesque results. So many kinds to try. So much that could grow disproportionately huge. I was already hard as a rock again just thinking about it. "So, what flavor should I try next?" Chapter 2 ~ Rippling With Power "Hm?" I had snapped out a very vivid daydream about my husband being the size of a skyscraper. "I saaaaaaid - what flavor should I try next?" Dustin asked again with an adorable smile. "Goodness gracious, there's so many choices, uuuuum... There were a paralyzing amount of options, each more tantalizing than the last. It was ever-so tempting to jump straight to the soda that sounded like it would grow my man's schlong, but I wanted to save that chestnut for later. "Let's dooooo... uuuuuh... Oh, I know! You've always been a grape fan, right, sweetie? Let's do that one." I grabbed a purple can from the group and handed it to him. The label read "Bulka Grapdominal ~ Rippling with POWER!" with the mascot man flexing a shredded, 8-pack stomach. "Heh, I was kinda hoping you'd choose that one. You know me all too well, babe," he said with a loving lilt to his voice before popping the top. The enticing FSSSSTK sound filled our ears, and without any further ado he tipped the can to his handsome lips and began to chug. Gulp, glurk, glunk, gluck, gulp. Every hearty swallow was accompanied by a loud cartoonish - THOONK! - as each of Dustin's abs popped out more prominently on Dustin's stomach like a freshly heated popcorn kernels. Once all six rippling packs looked like the plumpest, deepest dinner rolls on the planet, otherwise impossible extra abs began to appear. THOOMP! - 7-pack... TOONK! - 8-pack... THUNK! - 9-pack... TUNK! 10-pack... And as his middle reached the limit of where any extra abdominals could possibly fit, his midsection began to grow longer to make more room. I drank in the sight as indulgently as my hubby drank that soda, lost in a trance and salivating as more and more delicious dark tan dinner rolls filled my vision. THUNK! THUMP! - 12-pack. TUNK! THONK! - 14-pack. THOMP! TONK! - 16-pack. And with a final - THUMP THUNK! - Dustin's tummy stretched out before me with the most gloriously deep and perfect 18-pack abs this world had ever seen. Assuming this world had ever seen any extra abs, for that matter. I lunged like a hungry starving animal. I hugged at his long, cobblestone midsection, kissing, licking, and humping at as much as I was physically capable of induling in. There was a very light sheen of sweat coating every inch of that midsection, and it tasted absolutely divine to my worshiping tongue. "Damn, that was TASTY," Dustin complimented the concoction, "And - NNF - look at these fucking bricks." He flexed his triple-length abdominals underneath me, and I nearly came again. But I'm glad I held of just a moment longer, because Dustin still hadn't- BLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA- Enhanced by his tightened tummy, my husband roared out his most deafening belch yet. Each of his individual abs got thicker, their trenches got deeper. And as if that wasn't enough... THUNK! THUMP! TUNK! THONK-THOMP-TONK! An entire additional six-pack's worth of abs rapidly popped out at the bottom, directly under where my cock had been pressing, and set me off once more. I came even harder than last time, which I hadn't even thought possible. Dustin seemed to have exquisite control over his newfound abdominals, because I could feel his lower abs clench around my bulge like a vice. He proceeded to flex every last drop out of me until his latest transformation was finished. "-UUUUUUURRRRRAAaAaaaaahhh...." The belch tapered away into a sigh of blissful satisfaction. "NNnnnnmmmm... fuck yeeeeah... Count my abs, babe..." I didn't have to be asked twice. I immediately started to count them off, giving each a kiss... "One... *mwah*... two... *smeck*... three..." Dustin's soft expression whilst I dutifully made my way down those abs was so loving. You'd have thought I was the one being passionately worshiped, he was so infatuated. Gosh I love that man. We could be so sickeningly sweet together sometimes, we would give you cavities. We probably had more metaphorical sugar in us than all these cans of soda. "Twenty-two... *peck*... Twenthy-three... *kiss*... Twenty-FOUR! *Mmmmmmwah*" "Holy cheese graters... I have a TWENTY-FOUR PACK!! My abs QUADRUPLED!" Dustin was now dangerously close to bonking his head on our kitchen ceiling thanks to all the newfound inches his elongated tummy had stacked onto to his height. To an outside viewer he probably looked a tad silly at that moment, but I was absolutely enraptured by my hyper-hourglass figure bigfoot of a husband. I kept kissing and nuzzling and grinding up and down his abs for over fifteen minutes. He was loving the attention, content to lean back against the wall and let me go to town. He bit his lip, letting out the occasional deep resonate grunt or surprisingly submissive whimper. He flexed them in waves powerful enough to lift me up, like I was riding a giant caterpillar. When he performed an ab vacuum I found myself laying in a hammock of muscle. That last bit of showboating seemed to squeeze a teensy tiny bit of leftover gas out of his gut, as a distinct gurgle audibly shot up his system. "HIC! Urp!" - Thunk! Tunk! "Haha, oops... Make that a 26-pack, li'l man." I swooned at my latest pet name before giving my husband's newest abs a pair of tender kissies.
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ERROR ERROR - Muscle Growth Comic (Pages 1 - 12) [Finished 21/10/2023]
GDSMuscleFreaks posted a topic in Stories
Hey peeps, I've been working on a new project and thought I'd release the pages. Let me know what you think Here's the cover and first 2 pages: Cheers, George- 19 replies
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Hello yall! First time I post a story here I believe! For Halloween, this year, I've been working on making a transformation/growth-mystery story (based on the murder-mystery genre) and thought I could post it here if some of yall are into that! This series will have show multiple takes on masculinization, mostly about making huge, beefy and muscled bearish guys. If that's your thing and you like some story plot around the meat, here's something for you! I think I will add the next chapters on this thread, so you won't have to look around the forums for the previous instalment if needed. Without further ado, here's the prologue to the story! ***Disclaimer: the prologue does not contain sex scenes or physical changes yet, but serves as an introduction to the ten characters and to set the story context. Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. At 10 PM, lights shut off, phones fry up, game starts and none can leave. What’s more, it seems there is one imposter among them. Can they make it out until morning? What is this “game” all about anyway? ~ One of Us ~ Prologue ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:00 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The full moon forecasted on Halloween, a Saturday, promised a memorable night… if it was not for the whole pandemic thing. Halloween couldn’t just be cancelled. There could have been a tornado or an earthquake and the festivities would have still happened. Who cared for a stupid invisible virus! It was a mild evening by the Wrights’ house on the outskirts of Austin Town. Dimitri, a tall twenty-year-old who lifted weights daily had invited a couple of buddies for Halloween. He didn’t care for the pandemic and had the mansion by himself since his parents were out of town — he forgot exactly where. But all he cared for, in the moment, was throwing the party with his friends. He put on a cowboy hat, a checkered vest and a pair of faded jeans to look the part. The only boots he found around his home were his father’s 13s, which felt tight on the sides for his big boy ones. After all, he was two inches taller than his six-foot dad. The mansion hall was grandiose, looking as if it came from a movie or catalogue. A big staircase sculpted into rich oak wood crept the left wall of the hall and led to the upper rooms. On the right wall, a more discreet yet still impressive staircase led down to the basement, where the theatre room and the home bar would receive the guests later during the night. Next to the last staircase, wide double doors opened on a spacious living room. A fireplace took place on the left wall, right next to a sturdy door, and under a big plasma TV. Two long couches surrounded a glass table at the centre of the room, onto which half a dozen big bowls were filled with candies and chips. Against the farther wall, a tennis table had been set up by the garage door, onto which red plastic cups had been piled. Right next to the table, Dimitri’s best friend Asher was sitting on a stool with a beer can in hand. The 5′9″ man did not wait for other guests to show up before cracking up a beer and taking a handful of chips. He was dressed up in camo clothes and a war helmet — which consisted of a grotesquely painted bicycle helmet. The man scrolled through the song playlist in his phone, plugged into the speakers, hanging in the high corners of the room. He had created a selection of spooky and Halloween-themed song to play, but had somehow managed to either lose or erase it. To his feet under the table, Dimitri had a cooler which contained the few six-packs of beers he’s brought along for the night — probably the only six-pack thing about the bulky guy. Whereas Asher did not have abdominals to show, the bearded redhead had his own share of strength. Asher was telling his friend the latest conquest he’s had when a loud booming car entered the driveway. The two men looked through the wide windows of the living room, noticing how more of the guests arrived. Two more men and their girlfriends walked out of the car. The two girls were the first to get out, a short yet curvy dirty blond and a tall svelte latina with jet black hair. A short man on the passenger side joined the girl of similar height while the driver, a giant although quite lanky young man, turned the ignition off and joined with the crew. “Yo! Is that the double Js!” Asher called out through the window with a tipsy laugh, before following the host back in the hall to greet the guests. “In the flesh and the hair!” The taller man — Sebastian Joseph — replied with a wide grin over his stubbly face, ruffling his head full of shaggy chestnut hair for effect. The other shorter guy — Theodore James — walked with a crate full of beers, letting out an enthusiastic “got the booze” to the host. Albeit not dressed in their costumes yet, the quartet had a few bags with them, giving the impression they would change once inside. “Need help with something, boys?” The raven-haired girl asked with a giggle. “I do, Mathy, but I doubt your ‘tall-boi’ here would agree to share ya with me.” Asher chuckled before receiving a playful blow from giga-Seb on the shoulder. The girls jiggled between each other at the display of rough masculinity between the guys. Theo made himself silent as he brought the beer and his backpack inside. “Perhaps Theo might be more compliant on the deal with Jenny, though.” The womanizer grinned as he sized up the short blond. “Don’t you dare touching my girl, bro!” Theodore shouted from the inside. “Bro, just keep your dick in your pants.” Dimitri slapped his best friend teasingly on the back as he was taking a sip of beer, resulting in him spitting some down. “Dude, bro! Don’t do that! You can’t waste that shit!” Asher dramatized as booze also leaked into his beard and camo vest. In the middle of laughs, the short girl asked if there was a room where they could get changed. “Yeah, there’s a bathroom in the corridor behind the stairs.” Dimitri pointed at the staircase. “First door to your left, girls.” “Need some assistance, girls?” Asher joked again. “We’ll be fine, dickhead.” Jenny rolled her eyes, although still amused. “Come on, Mathilda.” “You’ll see, boys. Once we’ll be out, you’ll be the ones asking for our help!” The latina giggled, winking at them before following her bossy little friend. “I’ll be waiting for that!” Asher exclaimed, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. “Dude, have you gotten laid recently?” Sebastian elbowed the bulky womanizer. “I did, but that pandemic thing right now is really killing my strike. Can’t believe there’s so many scared pussies around. It’s terrifying for the male race, dude.” “Unless you’re a fag, bro!” Sebastian chuckled. “Aww, fuck off, dude!” Asher smirked before finishing his beer. “Hmm… let me get myself another one. Or just come in and get one yourself.” The three guys went into the living room, where Theodore was missing. “Theo? Buddy? Where’re you at?” Dimitri called the little guy. “I think he went for the kitchen.” Sebastian said, pulling a furry toque from the bag in his hands. “Alright, I’m gonna check on him if he needs anything.” Dimitri left his two friends going in the living room and went for the double doors leading to the left of the hall. He entered a large dining room with a long table that could welcome a dozen people to eat. He remembered how his mother, a judge in the federal court, used to make parties with her colleagues years ago. The expanse of the furniture in the room proved to be useful when his brother or himself invited friends over. The host walked past a second fireplace in the dining room until he reached a broad door leading into the kitchen. Right by the counter, Theodore was looking as if he was texting someone. “Hey, dude, what are you doing?” Theo startled at the question, not realizing someone had walked in on him. He turned around with a blush on his face and a nervous laugh. “Hey! I… didn’t hear you walking in.” “Bro… I know this face! Who were you talking to?” Dimitri asked with a coy grin, lowering his voice. “No one!” Theo brushed off, storing his phone back into his pocket and proceeding to store some food and booze in the fridge for later tonight. “Your call, dude!” Dimitri lifted his hands in acceptance. “C’mon and get your ass in the room with the boys! Let’s get this party going!” Right on cue, Asher’s spooky music started blowing through the speakers of the living room. As they joined Asher and Seb, the two men were just starting a beer pong game. Seb had put on the toque on his head and a plaid jacket on top of his now naked chest. The lanky giant had a few sparse chest hair and a meagre treasure trail, but little to no definition whatsoever. To complement the look, he even had an axe which he let by the couch for the moment. “Hope you don’t mind the view, guys!” Sebastian mocked by faking a striptease. “You’re such a dork, Seb!” Theo guffawed at the ridicule of his friend. “Hey, not my fault if no one can resist me! Remember that gay dude in High School, guys?” “That was fucking hilarious!” The short guy laughed at the memory. “SUP, BITCHES!” A voice echoed from the hall. The crew turned around and greeted with enthusiasm the arrival of a new party member. Already wearing his costume, Wesley entered the place like he owned it. The man was wearing old ratty and torn clothes as well as a puffy hat. His face looked even paler than usual and large dark circles surrounded his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in ages. “What are you dressed as, my old Wes?” Sebastian asked with a toothy grin, welcoming him with an arm around the shoulders. “A tramp?” “Funny one, Seb! Nah, I’m more like an undead or zombie kinda thing. Or a Frankenstein, whatever.” “Actually, Frankenstein is the scientist and not the monster.” Theodore intervened. “I doubt you meant the—…” “Ahh shut up, nerd. You know who I’m talkin’ about.” Wes spited in annoyance. “Hey, play cool, guys.” Dimitri chuckled. “Say, how about we play some beer pong?” “Well, I think I’m gonna take a shit while you’re debating what you’re gonna do.” Asher said. “That’s fucking nasty, dude!” Seb grimaced and chuckled at the same time. “Guess you’ll have to take the downstairs one, dude. The bitches are taking their sweet fucking time here.” Dimitri said, just loud enough so that the girls in question could hear his comment. “Tie a knot with your dicks if you can’t wait, fuckers!” They heard back from the bathroom, probably from Jennifer. “Are we having some single ladies tonight?” Wes asked with a devious grin plastered on his face, idly rubbing his crotch. “Apparently not, bro.” Asher sympathized with a shoulder pat as he walked past him. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:30 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It was pretty annoying how, despite the good insulation of the house, Larry could still hear the noise of his big brother’s party upstairs. With the pandemic stuff going on, he would have thought he could just spend a nice calming night playing videogames just as he always does. Oh well. The six-foot eighteen years old stretched into his gaming chair, dropping his Xbox controller on his lap. While he used to be a regular gym goer, the pandemic had benefited him and his brother with buying gym equipment. Well, it was their parents who actually paid, but that was beside the point. Between gaming and working out, Larry had grown a more athletic shape without even needing to leave the house. Sure, he wanted to eventually achieve thick proportions like Dimitri, who could almost pass for a bodybuilder now, but he believed he’d get there sooner or later. “Yo! Lar!” A voice boomed into the room as the door barged opened. The young man jumped with surprise at the sudden outburst. He turned around, mostly nude except from an old stained pair of boxer shorts covering his junk. There, in the entrance, stood Asher, booze in hand, laughing. “Phew! Glad I didn’t barge into you whacking off again!” The trickster exclaimed. “Get the fuck out!” Larry snapped, beet red. Larry grabbed onto the first object he didn’t value much — an empty beer can — and threw it at his brother’s friend, who closed the door just in time. The gamer heard the man step away, still laughing. His heartbeat was still high, but Larry was calming down. He turned back to his station and tried changing games, only to remember his account had been suspended from Fortdey. “Guess I’ll just play some Olah Reach.” The teen shrugged, scratching at the rough stubble he had not shaved in days. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:45 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “How do I look?” Mathilda asked to her friend as she applied the makeup. “You’re looking like a queen.” Jennifer complimented, finally stepping and showing her the result. The Latina beamed with joy at her display in the mirror. She looked just like Cleopatra. As for her shorter pal, she had disguised herself with a little white dress and brought her hair into a green flowery bulb on top of her head. Pink heels, transparent wings and a rooty wand complemented her appearance as a forest fairy. “Ready to show off to the boys?” Jennifer enticed. “You bet your ass, girl!” “Let’s get a round of salute!” “Heeeere we coooome!” Mathilda announced to the guys as they walked out into the lobby. Crossing the hall into the living room, the chicks were greeted with a series of wolf whistles and acclamations. Since the moment they entered the bathroom, a few more guests had joined the party. In addition to Wes, two more men had arrived. One of them was Braxton, an ex-neighbour of Dimitri, who moved before High School. Tall and wide-shouldered, he was almost matching Dimitri’s body builder size at about 250 pounds. Member of the football team back then, and again in college, Braxton had decided against all originality to disguise himself as a footballer for Halloween. “Talk about original, huh, Brax?” Jennifer snarked. “That’s because you’ve not seen anything yet, little girl.” He chuckled, removing his helmet. Right under the headwear, the sportsman had apparently covered his face in makeup to look like some werewolf. He had even added pointy ears and fake fangs to complement the disguise. “Wow! I must say I’m surprised you actually put some effort in your costume.” Mathilda nodded. “Hmm, yeah, I agree.” Her friend approved. “Now, does any of you wants to play with the big wolf on campus? Grrrr!” The jock joked as he acted the part. “Only if you want me to turn you into a cute puppy!” Jennifer said with a smile, raising her wand to playfully poke the footballer’s nose. “Oh! Turn him into a cat! It would look great with my costume!” The Cleopatra giggled along. “You girls are helpless!” The last guest spoke, disguised as Captain America. With his blond hair and chiselled jaw, devoid of any, the man actually looked like the Steve Rogers from the Marvel comics. Albeit a little shorter than the canon superhero, the second jock was still taller than average at 5′11″ and he depicted a stature that testified countless hours dedicated to the gym. “Victor! It’s been so long since I last saw you!” The short fairy exclaimed. “Victor?! Damn, dude, what are you on?! Tell me that’s part of the costume!” Mathilda gasped, putting a hand on her chest as she observed the massive bulk threatening the sleeves to tear. “That’s all me, ladies!” Victor laughed with his loud rich voice, flexing a bicep for evidence. The girls could almost hear in their head the seams about to rip as he tensed the enormous arm, unfortunately inaudible through the booming music. “I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, you see, babes?” “You can show off all you want, bro, but you ain’t got nothing on these guns!” Braxton chimed in, pushing his longtime friend aside to flex. “At least I’ve still got abs, bro!” Victor scoffed at him by shaking the soft midsection. “Put your faggy hands away, bro! It’s padding for the field!” “Sure, bro. Sure. Just be careful so that I don’t mistake you for a bear next time we go hunting, bro!” The two teasing jocks gave each other a few hits before erupting with laughter. However, when they turned around to see the girls, they had since long left them to their silly talk. They had joined in with Dimitri to play beer pong — their boyfriends nowhere to be found. The two meatheads exchanged a wolfish grin and went after the two women, intent on playing a few drinking ones with them. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:15 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Settled in the study, Sebastian and Wesley had been smoking and relaxing aside from the main events of the party, taking some time to catch up. Ever since Wesley has moved district with his parents as a teen, the two of them hadn’t seen each other as much as they used to in elementary school. They ended growing up in quite different neighbours. While Sebastian had lived in a middle-class environment, Wesley had been subjected to a rather lower one. Sebastian never really knew why Wes’s folks relocated there, but suspected they might have struggled financially. The roughness of these new surroundings perhaps contributed to Wes becoming reckless and carefree in the last couple weeks, such as starting taking and exchanging drugs and booze. Nonetheless, he was still Sebastian’s old friend and the tall lad just simply couldn’t forget the strong bond they’ve built up many years ago. The two men were chilling peacefully when the door to the study opened by Theodore, dressed as a wizard with a blue robe and hat. The short pal had put on a ridiculous fake white beard, but had it off in his hands, the material itching him after a while. Even if he wasn’t fond of having his glasses daily — usually opting for contacts — Theo had decided to put on the nerdy eyewear his parents shamefully bought him a couple months ago, before the pandemic happened. “There you are, guys!” Theo blurted out. “We were looking for you everywhere! Well, technically, I was the one who… whatever. Anyway, what are you doing here?” “Whether you in or out, just close the damn door!” Wes grumbled. Theo blushed red and shut it after stepping inside. Already, the strong aroma of weed hit his nose. The smell didn’t disgust him, but he couldn’t help being rational about it. “Guys, you know that thing fries your brain cells, right?” “Doesn’t take any to say you’re an annoying little twat.” The drug addict chimed. “Hey, hey…” Seb spoke before the tension arose — he pulled the handmade fag from his mouth and offered it to his standing pal by the door. “Take it and sit down with us, bro.” Imitating an obedient puppy, Theo bowed his head down slightly in submission and listened to Seb’s command like an order. After Theo sat and brought the joint to his lips, taking a puff. Wesley glared at his childhood friend, unhappy with Seb’s decision to hand out his weed stash to anyone. “There, buddy. Chill a bit with us, alright, pal?” Seb smirked as he rolled himself another fag on the old walnut desk. “Dude! Don’t you go giving my stuff to everyone here tonight, bro!” Wesley vocalized. “Calm down, Wes. That’s my little buddy Theo and I love him to death! No homo, tho, bro!” Seb chuckled as he lighted the new cig. “You’re so gay, dude.” Theo rolled his eyes. “Good thing Dimi’s a cowboy tonight.” Wesley added, setting back in the leather chair behind the computer desk. “If we’ve got a fag slipping in, that gun might have some use.” “Dude, that’s not a bit radical?” Theo frowned. “Don’t get me wrong — I don’t approve of their lifestyle choice, but we kinda need these guys in society too.” Wesley gave him a dark eye. He aggressively took his beer can on the expansive desk. “Name me one thing this garbage is good for.” He spitted out of spite. “Well… I kinda need someone to make my coffee at McDonald’s.” Theo sniggered. “And that means more girls for us.” The scorn on the drug addict’s face shifted into a scary smile as he burst into laughter. “Dude! Seb, is that the Theo guy you talked about?” “In the flesh!” Sebastian gestured like a show master. “I guess you were right. Even nerds can be funny sometimes. Maybe there’s hope for the male race after all!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:45 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ A party wouldn’t just be one without playing flip-the-cup. Braxton and Victor had both removed their headwear to facilitate the downing of their beer cups against the two girls with whom the competed. Mathilda now used her majestic faux-golden staff more like a cane rather than an artifact for her costume — she barely could stand anymore. Jennifer, on the other hand, had better alcohol retention, but she kept jiggling and spilling beer on the sticky table and floor. The hair she had earlier shaped into a beautiful flower bulb had lost it dynamism and now looked like a greenish muffin top. While the girls were winning another round against the jocks, Asher and Dimitri just arrived on the first floor, having dragged up a foosball table from the home bar downstairs. The guys walked across the hall into the living room where the heart of the party was beating full mast. “Foosball time!” Dimitri and Asher shouted in chorus before bursting into laughter like a buffoon duo. The call was hyping the guests enough that even the smoking trio in the study left their cave to join in the fun. The games started as teams of two, until Mathilda had the brightest idea in the world and everyone held on to only one rotator, making sides of four instead. It was crowded and people kept bickering and shoving each other out of the way, but it provided a lot of fun nonetheless. As a good host, Dimitri gave his place to his eight guests until Wesley grew bored with the game and lie back on one of the couches. Mathilda was questioning herself about her idea when a repetitive soft tug in her hair starting annoying her. She thought her hair had tangled into her costume, but when she turned around, she met with a white ghostly face screaming at her. Her shriek made everyone look for her and begin to laugh as the Latina slipped on the wet floor and fell on her ass. Right behind her stood a tall person dressed in robes as dark as night, with the mask of Ghostface, holding in a knife in its hand. The figure was soon grabbed into a headlock by Dimitri, then Braxton, the three of them slipping on the ground as well. The two brutes had the stalker under control until they also heard the laughs coming from underneath the costume. “You should have seen her face!” The voice guffawed. “Larry? What the fuck, bro!” Dimitri exclaimed in shock, but soon after joined in the laugh. The two men on top of him moved and the host took his little brother’s hand to help him back up. Mathilda, embarrassed to no end, snapped with anger, failing to stand by keeping on slipping on the beer-covered floor. “You’re such a creep!” She pestered at him, red with humiliation. Jennifer tried pulling her back up via the Egyptian staff — while her boyfriend was laughing out loud — but the two girls ended falling on top of each other. “Jenny — ouch! Seb — DO SOMETHING! You, fucker! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna kill you ALL! All of you!” “Alright, alright.” Sebastian complied, walking to help his lover up. “That was a good one, bro!” Dimitri approved, giving Larry a brotherly slap on the back. “Though you should run away while you can!” “I was just coming to get a few snacks before my raid.” Larry pulled his mask off, beaming a content smile. “Well, you—…” Lights went off abruptly. Music faded into nothingness. Total darkness invaded the space. The surprised cries and exclamations were absorbed into the thick void surrounding the party members. Dimitri tried to bring back the attention to him when, out of a sudden, the fireplace lightened by itself, diffusing a dimmed orange hue to the vast living room. “What the fuck is going on?!” Dimitri blurted out in confusion. “HELLO.” A distorted voice echoed from the corners of the room and from within each present individual. The first one to take his phone out was Theo, who attempted to use its flashlight. Only then did he realize his screen looked glitched out — the alien sound came from its small speakers. “What… guys! My phone’s bugged!” “Fucking hell?! Mine too!” Braxton added before the distorted voice spoke again. “Tonight is not like any others. The ten of you gathered here is no mere coincidence. Each of you, to an extent depicted examples of homophobic bigotry against people, which lead to the self-destruction and suffering of poor, weaker-minded individuals.” “Where the fuck are you?” Seb asked aloud, taking in his hands the axe he’s left by the couch earlier. “Show yourself!” The voice continued: “Braxton Bellman — your jealousy against Richard Biggs making the football team only fuelled your homophobic bigotry to kick him out. But the school wouldn’t let him out because he was the best player. So, you made sure to ‘accidentally’ have his leg broken so that he couldn’t play on the team anymore. Did that bitter win in your hollow head made up for all the further matches your team lost? Victor Fortune — whilst you confidently say you are a handsome fuck machine, you had often pushed back the advances of numerous people because of their skin colour or orientation. You never miss a chance to proudly display your confederation flag to show much of a white suprematist you are. You used your straight white cis male privileges to influence many peers as the representative student in school, disrespecting whoever didn’t share the same traits as yours. Theodore James — you do not exert physical violence to assert your intolerance, but you rather attack psychologically your victims. The shameful names and stereotypes you call them instead of the proper ones make them all the more vulnerable to others who would act brutally. Sebastian Joseph — in any room you go, you attract anyone’s eyes. You are the tall, charismatic, person any man or woman would love to spend a good time with. However, this handsome shell of yours hides a dark soul. In pure malice, you used your good looks to flirt with Henri Thompson, just to play him out as a whole joke in front of the school. That man still is afraid to date anyone today. Mathilda Lopez — instead of sympathizing with your ex-boyfriend Greg when he confided you with his bisexuality, you acted like the worst bitch ever. Not only you broke up with him, but you leaked multiple personal pics of him on social media, shaming him for his sexual orientation as well, resulting in having him brutalized and sent to the ER. He is still in the coma to this day. Wesley Peterson — you are a dropout and a thug who doesn’t give a damn about anyone other than himself. You vandalized Oliver McClay’s car and locker with graffiti in High School, showing the world that he was homosexual. Know that Oliver McClay took his own life a month after changing school. Asher Ship — your homophobic bigotry against your younger brother Ken has led him into clinical depression. This led him to grow overweight and develop paranoia. He even tried to take his own life numerous times, almost succeeding more than once. It’s a miracle of sorts if he is still alive today. Jennifer Taylor — nobody can confide you anything. When Roger Mayer shared you his biggest secret that he was a homosexual, you betrayed him and told others. No longer a mystery, Roger’s parents eventually heard about it, making his life as miserable at home as he’s had it at school. Say, when was the last time you talked with Roger? Were you even his friend? Dimitri Wright — host of the night, you clearly selected your guests carefully. Your fingers probably don’t make up for the number of wedgies you’ve given those homosexuals and intellectuals in school. You’re a leader, but you used your diplomatic gifts to bully others rather than implementing justice. Perhaps it’s time to turn the tables? Finally, Larry Wright — just like your brother Dimitri, you have deeply rooted homophobia. If you come across a gay guy in your Fortdey servers, you don’t hesitate to shame and tag them, taking mischievous pleasure in bashing and blackmailing them. Sucks when the servers suspend your account for inappropriate actions, does it?” A hard-felt silence weighed on the ten young adults, to which Wes blurted out: “So fuckin’ what?!” before being hushed at. “Now that your facets are displayed on the table, let’s play a little game, shall we? If you can make it intact by six in the morning, I will let you go. Oh, but we can’t allow cheater, don’t we? No one can leave the house grounds. No electricity, no data. Cheating or sleeping through the night will immediately result in a person losing. Also, let’s spice things up a bit. Anyone who loses can make others lose as well. Among the ten of you, there is one who knows what’s going on — an imposter of sorts. Will you find who fakes this out? Finding it out might make you win earlier than sunrise, but a wrong answer will result in another loss. Good luck.” The speakers shut, and so did all their phones — batteries fried up.
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Still working on Abduction part two. In the meantime please enjoy: You Can Stop Part One by F_R_Eaky Ted, officially Theodore James Wentworth the Fifth, was a somewhat tall man, quasi athletic, loved music and club life, but in the work world was a complete Renaissance I.T. man with knowledge of computer programming, building & repair, and various code writing. Physically he had managed to go past his high school and college years fairing far better than most of his classmates: 6' 3", 185lbs of slightly defined leanness, size 12 U.S. men's shoe, He had jet black hair that lightly covered his arms and legs and formed a thin trail straight up his abs and then feathered out just slightly over his chest, while it simply combed back into kind of a thick, modern, pompadour style, on the top of his head. That same ebony hair sat above a pair of eyes that were described as hazel but had a vibrancy to their darkness so that perhaps moss or fern would better words to explain their color. Eyes and hair both stood out nicely on him due to his kind of milky white complexion. He turned out to be the best combination of Anglo-English and Spanish DNA. His best friend, Cristóbal Eduardo Espino Maclérigo, usually just Cris, didn't fare so well. His very Spanish features of Blonde hair, blue eyes, and light skin, confused the hell out of everyone in college and work, just like it did in high school. Professors would run down the list of names, and not seeing the "dark looking Latino" answer in roll call figured he was absent. He had to prove whom he was to one professor who booted "Cristóbal" out of a class for non-attendance and was trying to get the unknown blonde male registered because of his perfect attendance. After college the same thing would happen at work. Employers would see that Cristóbal had clocked in, but they wouldn't "see" him at his work station or office. They just saw this blonde haired guy they couldn't identify. It always took several trips to the H.R. department for everyone to begin putting his face to his name. Naturally all of that caused a great deal of stress, along with the usual stress of high school to college transition, college to work, moving into dorms and apartments, etc. To combat the stress Cristóbal turned to his favorite past time, cooking. As a result, it packed on 315lbs of poor fat weight onto his 5' 8" tall frame. This in turn added more stress because in dating, adding to the let down that he didn't look like a swarthy dark skinned, eyed, and haired Latino lover, most folks weren't thrilled with his big belly and dumped him on the spot. Some figured out who he was at the door, pivoted and left without even greeting him. But, Cristóbal pressed on with his life, his anchor and other stress relief was his friendship with Ted. The two met his senior year of high school while working for a volunteer translator program that assisted new immigrants to America in getting everyday things done until they learned English well enough to be comfortable on their own. Cris was thrilled to meet someone else who was "Hispanic" but wasn't the stereotypical set Latino look everyone expected. The other thing that they were surprised and connected by was that they were both born on the same day, June 15th. It was this very reason that Ted was coming by to visit Cris. It was their twenty-third birthday coming up and they decided to use some vacation time to simply hang out and relax while celebrating their birthday at the same time. Ted had driven down, arrived, and was unloading and unpacking his car when he kind of noticed something. "Cris, have you lost some weight?" "Yeah. Actually I've lost fifteen pounds. Only a ton more to go." "Stop it. You're not string bean I knew in high school, true, but you're not that bad." "Three-hundred fifteen pounds is bad, Ted." "Three-hundred fifteen pounds? Wow. You wear, uhm wore it well. I wouldn't have guessed you weighed that much. Course I couldn't expect it to be muscle weight, not with those sticks for arms." "Yeah...yeah...yeah..." Cris, laughed. "Seriously though, you look like you're standing up straighter, maybe even taller?" "Yeah...right. I doubt that. I'm the same as I've been for years, five foot eight." "You know I've never believed you were that short. I just don't believe I'm eight inches taller than you." "Like two inches make much of a difference." "That settles it. Off with the shoes, stand against the wall." "Come on..." "No... no... do it, or... I'll force ya." Ted moved in and stood as tall as he could over Cris, lording himself over his best friend. He then began to push him using his body until Cris was against the wall. "Okay...alright...fine.... there's a pencil and a tape measure in the top left kitchen drawer over there." Ted got Cris positioned and made the mark at the top of Cris' head, pulled out the measuring tape, and read the height aloud. "Five foot ten. See, you're not as short as you think you are." "No...that can't be right. I just had a doctor's appointment about two months ago and they measured me there. I was five foot eight." "Maybe you're growing." "You think so? I've heard of late growth spurts but this is kind of ridiculous." "Yeah, yeah, yeah... don't get too carried away with this. I'm the tall one of us two. You don't need to grow into a giant." "Awww come on.... couldn't I at least catch up to you? You know some of tallest men in the NBA had late growth spurts, and in some cases the later the larger." "Whatever... you can stop. You're fine the way you are." Cris felt this tingling sensation in his stomach. He was kind of thrilled that Ted saw him as...some kind of threat to his superiority, his masculinity, his dominance? Cris always wished he was taller, stronger, than what he was, and the thought of him having a late growth spurt, no matter how late it was, excited him. The rest of the couple days vacation was normal. They ate at their favorite, taste great, but bad for health restaurants. They went to an amusement park. They had birthday cake. It was over all too soon and they had to go back to the real world and jobs. Ted said good-bye, said he'd call real soon, drove his rental car back to the airport, and away he went. ********************************************************************** About six months later, Ted decided to come visit Cris for Christmas. Cris was unable to go visit his parents due to work obligations, while Ted's parents had flown back to England and then Spain to visit family there. Again Ted had picked up a rental car and drove to Cris' house. After removing his luggage, he walked up to the front door and buzzed the intercom system. "Yes?" "Hey, Crisito! It's me, Ted. Open the door." "Hey, man. I'm just hopping into the shower. Come around back through the gate. The back door is unlocked." "Alright." Ted did as he was instructed and entered through the back door which opened upon a mud room. Lined up on the floor against one wall were a series of shoes, most of them tennis shoes with one pair covered with mud and one with some paint that still looked wet. Ted stopped and marveled at them a little bit. They looked a bit on the large side, in fact they looked larger than his own size twelve shoes. Finding one that was kind of separated from the line up, he carefully put his foot side by side matching the back of the heels. Sure enough the other shoe looked to be about an inch, maybe even slightly more than an inch longer than his shoe. Pondering what those shoes were doing there, Ted walked through the mud room, into the kitchen, past the dining area, and into the great room. Setting his suitcases down, he noticed that on the opposite end there was a door that was ajar, opening into a bed room, from which the sound of streaming water was coming. Ted approached the door and stood next to it bellowing. "Hey, I'm inside. Why'd you choose my arrival to take a shower?" Cris answered back, yelling as well, his voice all echo-y sounding from the shower stall. "Sorry, bro. Couldn't help it. Job had me help out with a community extra-curricular activity so to speak. Last minute thing. They wanted me to use my artistic skills, so I've been down at a theater painting sets. Just got done, after a little paint war, so I needed to get this stuff washed out while it was still fairly wet. There's a remote control on the coffee table. It works both the TV and the cable." "Ok. Hey, uhm.... do you have another friend staying over, or uhm here right now perhaps, like with you...you know.... in the uhm.... shower?" "Yo! If I was to have that type of company over I wouldn't have left the bedroom door ajar for us to talk through, I'd have shut it, after posting a note on it. Why do you ask?" "Well those shoes seem my size, if not larger. You tease me about having boats and those are steam-liners, so it can't be you that's wearing them." The shower was turned off, the stall door was heard to open, and then the ruffling sound of a towel being taken off the rack. "Uhmmmm yeah. About those shoes... well.... that is.... Let's just say I can't tease you about having boats anymore." Ted chuckled lightly. "And why is that?" "Because... ... ... They're my shoes." "Your shoes. What is it a foot fetish with you or something? You just decided to buy some shoes that are huge? C'mon man, you need to be kind of tall to wear shoes my size or slightly larger." Ted heard the sound of some drawers opening and closing, along with the sound of rustling cloth. Then there was the sound of walking across the floor made by someone of a decent size. Suddenly the door was open and there was a man who stood around the same height as Ted, but looked similar to his best friend Cristóbal. "Yeah...about that height thing...." Ted looked up and down the man. He stood just about eye to eye level with him, kind of broad shouldered, but fairly lean in appearance, wearing a long sleeved sweatshirt and sweat pants, but was bare footed and those feet looked pretty long and wide. "Cris...ito? Cristóbal what happened to you?" "It was like we wondered and thought since your last visit; I grew. I had a late bloomer growth spurt." "Unbelievable....how...when.... Well, duh, during the last six months or so. This is just kind of wild and is going to take some getting used to. I mean for starters I can't call you Crisito anymore." "No...not unless you can find some huge linebackers or NBA players named Cristóbal that I can stand next to. You're not angry or upset by this are you?" "No! No.... just kind of shocked and surprised, but why would I be mad? I mean this way we can enjoy our friendship so much more. I don't have to watch out for you as a small guy or stick up for you as you're the same size as I am. Because of that we can have fun as some friends do and can trade off clothes if we need to, help cover in a pinch. Well, except those shoes. Those really are your shoes out there?" "Yeah... they fit these dawgs." Cris wiggles his toes and feet. "Come over to the couch and sit down." The pair went and sat down and Cris instructed Ted to take a shoe off and put his foot next to his. "Good lord! Your feet are like an inch longer than mine!" "Inch and a third actually." "How do you know?" "Because each size is one-third of an inch in length." "You're pullin' my leg now, no pun intended. Shoe sizes are that small?" "Well once you get into adult men's shoes, they get a little off towards real small shoes, but in general that's shoe size standard in the U.S. England, too. except their sizes have a tendency to be a size smaller so if I wear a size sixteen..." "Sixteen! That's what size those are, sixteen?" "Like I said, if I'm an inch and a third larger than your feet, I'd wear four sizes larger. Which in the US will be a size sixteen and in the UK a size fifteen. Trust me, I know. I've had to start looking shoes up at specialty Tall Men's Stores and other places. I can still easily find shoes but most of the time not in the regular department stores. They've only recently started carrying up to a size thirteen, sometimes fourteen, but not usually sixteen." "I... I just can't believe you're wearing a size sixteen." "Trust me." And Cris got up and walked to the kitchen to grab a pencil and the tape measure as they did the last time, and came sitting back down on the couch and handed the tape measure to Ted. "Here. Measure your bare foot. I'm betting it is eleven and one third inches long or somewhere close to it give or take an eighth of an inch or so." Ted put the tape measure down, then placed the back of his heel upon the end, pulled the tape measure out and then rocked his foot down stepping on it. "Oh my gawd. Eleven and a third exactly." "And that's why you fit so comfortably in a size twelve because your foot is exact in the size measurement. Now put it down for me and you'll see, my feet have grown to become twelve and two thirds inches long." And putting the tape measure down and allowing Cris to step on it, Ted did indeed see that that was the case. "So, as you can see, I no longer can tease you about having boats when my feet are four sizes larger than yours." "I... ...I'm still kind of at a loss. People used to say your feet were small for a guy, even a little small for your height, but now you're wearin' a size that starts to become difficult to find, it's too big. And...and seeing you in that doorway was shocking as well because you're like, almost as tall as me." "About that... ... ..." "What? Don't tell me you're taller than me!" "It's not by much. Only an inch." "Only an inch!? Six four. You mean to tell me you now stand six feet four inches tall? That's like...a six inch growth spurt." "Eight inch, actually. My doctor confirmed it, the last recorded measurement I had down there was five foot eight inches tall, so I've grown eight inches in the last eight to nine months depending upon when it started." "Alright, up against that wall. I've got to do and see this for myself." So Cris stood against the wall as Ted took the pencil and made a mark at the top of Cris' head. He pulled the tape measure out and positioned it against the wall where the mark hit exactly on seventy six inches. "Oh my gawd." said Ted kind of slowly as he turned around and sunk into a chair. "My best friend. The man I used to jokingly refer to as 'my little brother' is now actually taller than me." "Hey, it's not the end of the world you know." "Yeah, at least we're still very close to the same height... and I noticed you gained size in one way, but you haven't gained it in the other." "Noticed that did you? Yeah, my body stretching out took all that fat I had and either stretched it with me or consumed it for growing power. I'm now at a good weight...well a little thin actually, but hey for the first time in my life, however, I can...." and Cris lifted up the bottom of his shirt just a little to reveal his very flat stomach which just had the beginnings of very soft outlines of abdominal muscles. "...finally say I have abs. They're not huge or defined real well, but they're there." "Well, damn. Any more surprises for me? Pick up any mental abilities during this spurt of yours." Cris laughed. "No. no. Just got thinner and taller, unless you want to count the aches and pains from the growth spurt." "Ugh... I remember mine. Hated them, although they weren't too bad. Clark O'Bannyon, remember him. Grew to like seven feet tall. Now he had severe growing pains. That boy was always having cramps every minute of the day until he stopped growing. You must've been miserable these last few months." "A bit, but I managed to get a good deal on and install something to help me work those out." "What's that?" "Come here." And Cris stood up and walked to the sliding glass doors and pulled back the curtain to reveal the back patio. "Ta-daaaaa! Hot tub!" "You got a hot tub?" "Yeah and take a good look at it." "It's huge... I mean we might be able to comfortable sit in that." "Yeah... tall enough sides with low enough seats we can actually sit up straight in that and have the jets hit our back from the arm pits down, instead of us having to slide under the water line and stoop sit." "Listen to you, like you've got experience in being a tall man." "Well, I remember the problems you had when we'd go to friend's parties and you tried to sit in the hot tub, or some of the taller jocks: water line hit you at your abdomen so the jet sprays would only hit your lower back, the little space for feet was sometimes so tiny you, they'd be stepping on other people's toes. And I have some experience as a tall man, thank you very much. I've needed to get my chair adjusted at work, I've had to start buying clothes at specialty spaces, I've had to learn to duck the occasional too low hung sign, chandelier lights, or ceiling fans. And I have delt with the hot tub issue as I joined a gym. Workouts have made me sore but at the same time they helped work out some of the kinks as it were while I grew. But that hot tub....it is large enough for both of us to sit and relax in it." "Well then, we need to break out the mixes and start makin' some Daiquiris, margaritas, and whatever it is you make with that Madori crap." "Hey, it's not crap. It's just watermelon flavored." So the two friends made a couple of platters of buffalo wings and fries along with the drinks and after changing into swimsuits went out to the hot tub to sit, soak, and have fun. Cris made it into the tub before Ted did, and was reclined and soaking as Ted approached. "It was a good idea to join a gym." "Really?" "Yeah... you are really kind of thin." "Well that's what happens when you have an eight inch growth spurt." Ted laughed and the two sat and talked, catching up with their lives, work situations, love life or lack thereof for the moment. After a number of hours of food, drink, and soaking, Cris finally commented on how they should perhaps go ahead get some sleep otherwise neither one of them would be up at a decent hour to do anything during the holiday. Cris stood up revealing he'd been wear a pair of Speedo swim trunks, which was partial responsible for shocking Ted. "Good lord, Cris!" "What?!" "Speedos?" "Why? What's wrong with Speedos? You know like most of the world wears them for swim wear? Seriously, back in the motherland of Spain, that's what they all wear up and down the public beaches." "Maybe in Spain, but seriously they leave almost nothing to the imagination.... es....especially for someone who... recently had a growth spurt. .... .... ...Which apparently hit everywhere on you." Cris kind of looked down at himself questionably. "What do you mean apparently hit everywhere on you. I don't look anywhere worse than you do in your underwear. You're not a light packer yourself, you know." Cris got up and wrapped a towel around his waist and then picked up the empty platters. "I don't look that big." "You don't look that small either. You might not be the biggest man on Earth, but I know you're not small or small side of average." "Well I don't look that big soft." "Oh, bullshit! You do, too. You're about...what?....five inches soft?" "You've tried to figure out how much I've got?" "No! I only just took an approximated guess from memory of gym class. Remember I am an artist, so I can kind of figure out a human's dimensions off the top of my head." "Well, you're slightly off. I'm four and half soft." "Teh... only a half an inch off." "Well still, you've got to be bigger." "Like it makes a difference to you? And yes...but only half an inch. I'm five inches soft." "Great, probably a grower and a shower too." "A little bit, but it's not like it doubles in size or anything. And like you have any room to talk. I remember Andy used to talk about yours all the time, swelling and growing to great proportions. To listen to him talk, you'd swear you had a foot long dong." "Well, I don't grow that much either. I'm only seven and half erect." "Oh... well.... uhm....see that's a bit larger than many, so you have nothing to complain about." "You're getting awfully quiet and stammering there." "Nope..." Cris turned towards the door as if ready to take the platters in. "Come on, out with it. You've gotten bigger than me there as well, haven't you? Let me guess you are the epitome of 'the shoe size minus two' theory aren't you?" "Fourteen? You think my cock grows from five to fourteen inches? An eleven inch erection spurt?" "Well, you've gone from size nine and half to size sixteen shoes, and five foot eight to..." "I am NOT king donkey dong! But if you're going to have a hissy fit about it and must know, it is eight inches." "Eight inches!?" "Oh for Pete's sake. It's only half an inch." Cris was blushing and flushing at the same time. He couldn't believe his best friend was so upset over the fact that he was now bigger than him, but deep inside there was part of him that was tremendously turned on. The fact that during sad moments Ted had held him in his arms and Cris could feel how much bigger than himself Ted was, feel the width of Ted's wide shoulders... even wider than most men who stood six foot three and without any real athletic training. Or the fact of how Ted used to stand up to dwarf some guys who were giving Cris trouble and make them back off. Now, he could do it on his own. And those facts bothered Ted. The realization of those facts bothering Ted made Cris' heart skip a beat and turned him on so he sprung an erection in his Speedos which threatened to snap the loose tuck job of the towel and make it fall off. "I'm going to go ahead and go to bed. You coming inside?" Ted started to stand up, but then quickly sat down, realizing that for some reason, the discussion of how big they were and that his best friend was now slightly bigger than him had made him pop a boner. He couldn't let Cris see that. "Uhm no. I think I'm going to sit and relax a little longer. Airplane flights are so uncomfortable for tall people. aha... if you don't already know that, you soon will. I'm going to soak my back a little longer." "Alright. The red button turns the bubbles off; the yellow one the jets. Put the cover back over the tub, fasten it, and then bring in the pitchers and the fixin's inside, otherwise the local raccoon family around here will grab the fruit and wash it in the hot tub." "Ok... g'night..." "Night..." "And hey, Cris." "Yes." "You can stop now. I'm thrilled you've gotten taller, and it's ok that you're taller than me...by an inch, but no more, you. Don't go growin' into a giant on me." Cris suddenly felt a tingling sensation all in his stomach which spread throughout his whole body and he smiled a little smirk. "Why...are you afraid I'm gonna start calling you 'Tedito?'" Ted sat in shocked silence as his cock surged even more rigid under the water and his full swim trunks. "Night, Ted." *************************************************************************** After the Christmas visit, it was about eight months before Ted and Cris could see each other again. Ted once again flew in to take a couple of vacation weeks, but this time Cris drove to the airport to meet him. He texted Ted and told him he'd be sitting in the luggage area waiting for him. Ted walked into the luggage claim area and immediately saw Cris from afar, sitting slightly slouched in the chair, his long legs and big feet extended out. Ted chuckled to himself thinking, "Well, he's gotten used to that 'tall man's sitting position' now." Making a 'one moment' gesture, Ted made a mad dash towards the conveyor belt seeing his suitcases were the first two coming out. After retrieving them, he approached Cris with a smile, but looked down at Cris's legs, which seemed a little long, but his focus really took notice of Cris' feet in his sandals. "Hey there." "Hey, yourself, bro. How was the flight?" "Boring as usual. It's a cheap airline so they don't go out of their way to entertain. New sandals?" "Yeah...." "They look good. Normally you're not caught dead in a pair of them." "Well, I have developed an affinity for sandals as of late. They don't make my feet...uhm.... as warm and sweaty as regular tennis shoes do." "Uh-huh....my bullshit detector is going off. You're wearing them because you're feet were still growing and they didn't confine them as much. They kind of looked bigger than I remember and now that I'm standing here close to you, I can pretty much say you're beginning to dwarf my feet. I mean look at them... you're feet are taking up about one and an eighth of the floor tile which are probably twelve by twelve square. Out with it." "Aha...yeah.... well....Ted...and SS Theodore and SS James, I'd like to introduce you to the Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, my feet. Size twenty one." "Size twenty-one!" "Shhhhh! Ted... geeze don't need to get so excited." "No need to get excited... You're feet have gone up eleven and half sizes within a year, year and a half. I mean good gawd. How big are they?" "Fourteen and a third inches long." "Why are your feet still growing? Do you need to get this looked at medically?" "They're ah.... ....they're..... they're still growing because....." And Cris stood up from his chair and continued to stand up and up. Cris standing all the way up, Ted suddenly discovered he now stood only as tall as Cris' nose and mouth. Then he had a flashback; this was the same way he once looked to Cris. Cris originally only came up to Ted's mouth or so. "Oh....my...ga....how....?" "Six foot ten." "Six ten! Geeze what are you feeding yourself?" "Come on we can discuss this on the ride home." The pair strode through the airport. Ted began to notice how many people were looking at them. He was used to some looks being, 6' 4", but it was never as many as Cris was now experiencing. Not only that, but Ted noticed Cris was trying to stick towards the center of the walkway because most of the signs were on the sides, and those signs, almost every single one of them, he was no having to go around or duck under them in order to simply walk through the airport. Reaching the outside Ted started to walk across to get to the parking garage, but Cris called out his name and motioned him to come stand by the valet station. "Since when do you have your car parked by someone?" "Only just recently. ... .... Since I out grew the height distance between floor and ceiling cross beams of most parking garages by anywhere between four to two inches. I look pretty odd bobbing up and down walking through them." "Of course....." The car arrived Cris tipped the driver and took his keys. Ted watched after he placed his luggage in the back seat. Cris didn't get into the car immediately. He had to adjust the seat, putting it almost all the way back and then still had trouble getting his legs in due to his large feet which didn't really fit in the floor space. Finally in, the pair drove off for the house. Ted tried to keep his attention on the conversation, but it was being pulled away at the sight and size of his best friend. Cris was wearing a royal blue short-sleeved polo shirt and a pair of ivory men's Capri's, which kind only made him look even taller and bigger. Ted was overwhelmed by the sight of how broad Cris was plus how full his muscles seemed to be. He wasn't huge by any means, but had most definitely begun to fill out just a little, with a hint of the blood line running across the top of his biceps which were beginning to form the ball shape that makes it stick out with the slight hump when unflexed. Cris' calves looked a little fuller, harder as well, grabbing a hold of the Capri hems in similar fashion as to how the arms were grabbing the sleeve ends of the polo. That polo which was being stretch just a titch by a forming chest and maybe the hint of v from the back and lats. Finally Ted interrupted Cris' blathering about work conditions or the fact that any office chair was beginning to feel exceptionally uncomfortable and how his cubicle desk needed to be raised to accommodate the height of his knees. "Well, you're looking a bit bigger, frame wise, since the last time I saw you. Working out seems to have agreed with you." "Yeah... the doctors say it might be a sign of me finally slowing down." "Slowing down?!?" "Stopping. Stopping....Since I'm filling out now, I'm probably not going to grow anymore." "Well, good." "Good?" "So what do you weight now?" "Well... and you have to realize although part of it is muscle, a lot of it has to do with my height, but I currently weigh in at a little over two-hundred sixty-three pounds." "Wow...getting back to that three hundred mark." "Yeah...but this time at a foot and two inches taller and with a leaner more muscular build." "I'll say. You're arms are beginning to look pretty good there. Done measurements yet?" "Yeah. Have to take measurements at the start of the program, although we me in order to figure out my progress they have to calculate from my old height to this new one. But they're currently just under 18.25" around, which would be around like 16.25" for you." The two continued to talk a bit about Cris' continued growth, working out. When suddenly Ted started playfully, or not, slugging Cris' right side shoulder. "You....were.....not....supposed....to grow....any....bigger!" "What?....HEY! ..... Ted.... Al diablo! you're gonna cause us to have an accident. What is wrong with you?" "Nothing.... it's just... it's gonna take some getting used to the fact that you're now seven inches taller than me. One inch was hard enough. After all those years of being like the big brother to you, suddenly you're equal to my height, just an inch taller, and now you're beginning to tower over me at seven inches taller. And then you said something earlier about you slowing... like the doctors have said you might still be growing. Well you're not. You can stop." Cris got that tingly sensation in his stomach that radiated out through his body again. The fact that Ted seemed so bothered by this was making him extremely turned on. "Oh no... not now.... not now..." thought Cris' as the thoughts made him extremely horny and began to activate his cock. Cris had to hope that his best friend in the world wouldn't notice what was happening down the left pants leg of his Capri's. His cock was inflating and inflating to a goodly size. Cris attempted to stare at the road and pay attention to every car to get his friend's exasperation off his mind and hopefully cause his dick to deflate. Suddenly Ted shouts, "A medida que!" "What?" "Dios Mio!" "WHAT? QUE!?" "What the hell is that in your pants?!" "Dios! Why are you looking at it?" "How can you miss it? Don't tell me that is a roll of quarters you use to attract guys because that is a bit longer and quite thicker than a roll of quarters." "It's my cock, alright? Yes... it has grown too, and I keep it down my pants leg so it doesn't hurt when it inconveniently becomes erect. It's just like I'm back in grade school and junior high. I could be in the middle of work thinking on designing a sign, stage set, or something like that and despite my concentration being focused on flat dimensions or paint choices, my cock just suddenly springs to life." "It springs a good fuckin' foot! You're like porn star size there." "Auuuuugh... Alto! Cállate! You're complaints are only making it worse and throb more erect, if that's possible. Quit making a fuss about or get out and take a hike." "Sorry... it's just... there. It's a bit impressive." "If I tell you what it is now, will that quiet you down?" "I don't know. It's just a bit upsetting to watch your best friend whom you've know as this small kind of guy for years suddenly grow into a tall porn star." "You're just upset because you can't call me Crisito anymore without it looking funny, especially since now it's going to be hard to find someone also named Cristóbal and is taller than six foot ten. Well get used to it. I'm just plan Cris, Cristóbal now or you'll have to start calling me Crisón." "Sorry. I'm just not used to being the shorter guy. I know I'm not that tall, but I'm still usually taller than most guys I meet. I was used to kind of being a big brother to you and now, you're tall, getting built, I kind of feel useless. I'm sorry." "Look, you will always be my best friend. My brother from another mother. I still respect you and won't treat you any differently. You don't need to be upset over this." "I know. But I'm also scared for you. This is a little unheard of someone growing so much at age twenty-three. I mean I know they say men can grow up until around age twenty-five, but that's pretty rare, even more rare to grow fourteen inches." "Well, I'm fine. I've got doctors looking into it and they say I'm okay, so can you, we be okay about this too?" "Yeah... we can....so go ahead." "Go ahead and what, grow?" "No... If I'm going to accept this, I might as well be emasculated the entire way. You're big enough not just in height but other ways to attract size queens aren't you?" "Oh...that... yeah..... uhm.....ten and three-fourths." "Ten and three fourths inches!?! People are going to think your mom made out with a donkey!" Suddenly Cris became instantly hard again, although he secretly smiled about it this time. ********************************************************************** After their summer vacation, ten months went by before Cris and Ted could see each other again. This time Cris flew down to visit Ted. Ted was waiting for him at the luggage carousel, when he began to see folks from Cris' flight. More importantly he began to hear all of them commenting. "Did you notice how tall he was? I'm surprised he wasn't a part of the NBA. With that height, I'd certainly be playing professional basketball." "Not just the height, but he's got a good start of a muscular build. If I were a pro coach, I'd try to pick him for the NFL, pro football. Build a little more mass on him and he could be a whole defensive line himself." "Where do they find shoes to fit him? Did you see those flippers of his? Good lord. What are they feeding kids these days?" Ted swallowed hard and turned to face the direction all these people were coming from. He stood there watching the doorway they entered through and then suddenly his heart did a leap. There, approaching the door from the other side, was a man who looked as though he might dwarf the doorway. Was it Cris? At six foot ten Cris would just have to slightly tilt his head in order to walk through. This guy...this guy looks like he may have to bend over forward and twist sideways to get through. Once at the door, the man did indeed prove to be somewhere around half a foot taller than the doorway or the door frame. The man's shoulders rose above the door way just a titch. After bending down and twisting a little, the head that came through rose up and above the door frame was indeed Cris'. "My gawd." whispered Ted in awe. Cris came walking forward with his carry on case in hand, something that was beginning to look a little small compared to and for him. He was in a pair of basketball style shorts, and a t-shirt, both of which were beginning to look somewhat tightly stretched across his body. The legs of the shorts were tightly draped across some thighs of size and hung over some calves of decent build as well. The chest muscles pulled the t-shirt broadly and were beginning to be two hanging crescents. There was definitely a v shape forming down to a taper of a tight waist, the only place where the t-shirt was hanging loosely. The sleeves of the shirt had two problems to deal with one was the biceps and triceps, both of which were becoming more developed and sticking, mounding, out from the arm predominantly. but the back of this tall, tall man was much wider than t-shirts of this size were used to and so it pulled the sleeves up and into the hard rounding form of the delts. All together this man was looking like something between a tall swimmer and light personal trainer. The giant approached Ted, smiled, and embraced him in an engulfing hug. "Mi hermano!" "Yeah...uhm.....caga....Cris....no Crisón. You grew...again!" "Yeah... while we're waiting for my luggage, let's stand over here and let me go ahead and give you all of the basics. ... ... ... Brace yourself. I am now seven feet four inches tall." "Son of a bitch!" "Shhhh!" "Good gawd, bro. You're now a foot taller, just over a foot taller than I am. Holy cow... I don't even actually come up to your shoulders; I'm just underneath the top of them." "I know... I know... so I'm seven foot four inches tall. I wear a size twenty-seven shoe and I weigh in now at three hundred and fifty two pounds. My upper arms are twenty-one and three fourth inches around which if it was that build on your height would be about eighteen and a half inches around." "This is... I just.... I mean....wow.... and when did artistic you start wearing basketball shorts?" "Since number one, I grew again into tall basketball player size, and two, I kind of need something long but not as tight as Capri's or jeans to uhm....help hide something." "Hide what?" Cris gave Ted a "you know" kind of look. "Oh....OH! Oooooh my....what is it up to now? Are you going to rip lovers apart?" "It's possible..." "It's possible?!?" "Let's just say that I've knocked Jonah Falcon off the top of the podium." "You've knocked... how much is it?" "Fourteen and a third." "FOUR HMMMMM MMRFFFF" Cris put his now much larger hand over Ted's mouth, but actually covered about half his face from ear to ear. "Shush... we don't need to make that announcement to the entire passenger list." "This is crazy....I thought the doctors said you were slowing down." "I know... I know... I'm still in good health. It doesn't seem to be affecting my internal organs, my nervous system, my brain, or my joints. I seem to be growing into a big, big man. We've already checked for brain tumors, hidden radiation, gamma rays." Cris chuckled. "This isn't a joking matter, Cris." "I know. I know. I'm doing everything I can to monitor it and get check-ups and all of that, but no one has been able to figure out why I've grown so much." "Well, eight inches was one thing. ... Twelve could possibly be considered just a simple one thing along with the eight inches, but twenty inches? That's almost a two foot growth spurt. No one has that except like, Robert Wadlow or Goliath." "Yeah, but I'm tired of dealing with the doctors right now. They got me scheduled to be with all these specialists. It's going to make my working life hell as I try to balance out that schedule with their appointments, plus all the blood tests they want to run. I just want to forget about it, in as much as I can, and spend time with my buddy. " and Cris bent down and picked Ted up in a big bear hug. "GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! My best bud, and just have fun on our birthday, relax, and maybe even take a break from all the roving eyes and phone snapped pictures." "You don't sound too stressed out about that." "No... I'm kind of enjoying the attention. I used to feel so overlooked and now, it's like nobody can keep their eyes off of me. Almost like how you used to get looks and stares coming into a room, just a little more. You come by the rail system like I asked?" "Yeah, why?" "I rented a car. A truck to be exact. I didn't think your car was going to feel comfortable. You be amazed how much room these two legs take." "Three legs." "What? Oh...hahahahahaha. You're funny." "Not hardly, you realize that measurement is like the length of my entire thigh? Maybe plus part of the knee. It's not really a joke when I say, 'three legs.'" "Well, come on then, Mr. Jokester. Let's get the truck and go find a bar to party. In fact, I'd love to find one that's willing to place the bar tab as a bet on how much I can drink. You'd be surprised how many folks can't figure out the equation of mass to height to blood alcohol ratio correctly. Especially since, my weight is lean muscle mass." "Lean muscle mass, huh?" "If you were built like me with arms eighteen and half inches around and waist board stomach like this...." and Cris lifted up his shirt at the bottom a small bit. "Holy shit! You're ripped as hell!" "Like I said, you were built like me, you'd begin to discuss 'lean mass.'" After picking up the rental truck, the two drove off towards Ted's house. Ted having two problems: one the fact that the truck only had a bench seat in the front and with that seat pushed all the way back, he had a little trouble reaching the pedals, and two, when Cris crossed his right leg over his left knee, there was Cris' huge sandaled foot, all sixteen and third inches of it taking up space and almost right next to Ted's face to do so. Now Ted shifted nervously in his seat, hoping his cargo shorts wouldn't reveal what was happening underneath them. "You okay, Ted? You look a little tense." "I'm fine. I just worried about you. For you. " "I told you, I'm fine. I've got doctors looking into this." "I know you said that, and I know you're doing it, it's just this could lead to really serious health issues. I was joking before...I really don't mind the fact that you've grown, although it does take some getting used to, especially having grown this much. Shit, I've got a super hero for a best friend now. Although I won't mention it for the rest of the vacation, this time I'm serious, dude...you can stop. No more. You're big enough to be healthy for both of us and could probably get a contract with some professional sports team." Cris smiled a little bit of a cocky grin and replied while flexing his arm, "Which one?" "Smug son of a... any one....Damn, maybe you could play for two like Bo Jackson did." ***************************************************************************** Six months or so after their birthday, Cris and Ted decided to meet up for Christmas as once again Ted couldn't fly with his parents overseas while Cris' parents decided to see their mom's parents in Puerto Rico and then join Ted's parents in Spain to visit his father's parents. The stay would be too long for either Cris or Ted to go. Ted arrived at the bus station to pick Cris up. Apparently some snafu happened in getting his flight tickets to Florida and it being the holiday season almost everything was booked solid. The best he could do was to take a couple extra days off to pay and book for a bus ride down. Ted decided to wait and kind of pace outside while he waiting for Cris' bus to arrive. Ted thought to himself. "I feel so sorry for him. All cramped in those bus seats. As short a distance they are from each other, he's got to be eating his knees. Not to mention width... would he have to buy two seats in order to sit comfortably? NBA team busses usually have very wide and spaced seats. Glad thing you decided to rent the cargo van for the next couple of weeks. And shit... what if his weight gain is still happening from his workouts?" "Seven foot four tackle..." Ted laughed and whispered softly to himself. It was then that he noticed a bus coming in that seemed to be riding very low as if it were some kind of custom job or riding in on all four flat tires. A man from the offices came out and stood at the area where the bus was to park. It came to a stop, the doors opened, and the driver, without intercom, was heard to bellow. "Ok... you! Off! Now!" The man from the office stepped up to the door. "Driver Miller. You haven't lowered the buss into position for disembarking yet. You can't tell a pass...." "He don't need it! This man has caused problems with the system since he boarded. I don't mean to say we need to biased against big people, but when it comes to the weight standards and safety of all passengers during travel they need to purchase tickets as though they were two people! We might have been fine if a couple of people hadn't been on, but we had a full passenger list with all their luggage, and his added weight began to wear the bus out. I mean look at what he's done to the support chassis!" The man from the office stepped back to look at the bus and saw how low it was to the road. "It's a problem with the hydraulics. You should have called it so we could have had someone look at it and a replacement bus driven to your location to meet you somewhere." "It wouldn't have mattered. He'd have done the same thing to another...." "Miller! Now isn't the time to talk about it. Lower the buss so he and the other passengers can disem...." "It's ok sir, I really don't need the buss to be lowered and I don't mind getting off first. I need to stretch my legs." "GOOD GAWD ALMIGHTY! You don't need to stretch your legs you need to shrink them!" The higher ranking employed stepped away from the door as a semi-hulking silhouette of a figure could be seen walking towards the door. Once there he bent down deeply at the waist, twisted at the waist to get his head and shoulders out the door and then the rest of him stepping off the bus. The bus stayed still for a moment and then suddenly kind of popped up a bit like one of those old fashioned spring head toys. The other passengers, bus driver, and office employee all gave a small, astonished shout when the bus popped up. Cris looked down at the office employee and said softly, "Sorry about that." Cris then stood all the way up and turned his body into full front alignment; Ted nearly dropped at the sight. Cris' head rose up and up the side of the bus. While most people usually came up to, just below, or just above the half way mark of the bus' Eleven foot seven inch bus height, Cris we a bit beyond that. In fact it looked almost if there was only a fourth of the bus height left between the top of Cris' head and the roof of the bus. It looked even worse, so to speak, when he stood up all the way and faced fully forward for his shoulders, back, chest, lats, well, the entirety of him completely blocked the view of the doorway. If one didn't know these busses one would swear there wasn't a door to get in or out of, looking at it through Cris. Cris was wearing a muscle shirt that looked very tightly stretched across his pectoral muscles, which were losing the crescent shape and looking more like full platters. The neck, shoulders, and chest all caused strain upon the neck opening, stretching it out more into an oval than a round hole, and the kind of stretch that looked as though the shirt would never regain its shape from. His traps were beginning to mound and rise, his shoulders were getting rounder, harder, and wider along with his back. There was definitely a thick, wide, v being formed by his back and lats that tapered down into a much narrower waist. But even the waist area looked like it might cling a little as one could see the abdominal definition through the cloth, and the shirt hem didn't quite meet Cris' waist band of his basketball shorts. So if one couldn't see the definition through the lower part of the shirt, one could see the lowest row of abdominal muscles peeking through between the shirt bottom and pant's waistband. Ted had to adjust his stance, for even as far away as he was he could see Cris' shirt become a little tighter as his nipples began to poke ever harder through the fabric. Even though he had come down to Florida, it can still get somewhat chilly sometimes at night around Christmas time, and tonight it was brisk and as the air caused goose bumps on Cris' skin, it caused his nipples to become erect. But there were other reasons to make certain parts of Ted's anatomy snap to attention. He noticed that the basket ball shorts, the kind of shorts that had been made baggy and to hang down to the bottom of the knees of most basketball players did just that on Cris, yet didn't. The shorts didn't hang so baggy, but slightly snug, definitely showing off the shape of Cris' very full and wide thighs, his bubble butt, his taut hamstring. Not only that, but they also didn't originally hang as low as Cris' knees now. Ted could tell, despite finding fabric that matched in color, it didn't match in fabric style and Cris' shorts had been added to, extended to fit down to his knees. Although the shorts were snug, Ted didn't see any tell tale signs of something snaking down his short legs. No wonder, for when Cris' turned slightly to the side, Ted could see a very ample basket that there was no hiding unless Cris stood straight on, forward facing one. "Dios mio, tan enorme..." Ted whispered breathlessly. Suddenly Cris' feet began to move and they looked even more enormous, and slightly odd for the sandals he was wearing looked to be made out of straps of leather attached to a solid wood block sole that had been cut and sanded to shape. His arms moved with and against the swing of his legs and they bunched and swelled with muscle size, thickness, vascularity, striation. More and more they seemed to bulge power and strength. Over all Cris was beginning to look like an amateur bodybuilder, except he was so much taller. Soon he reached the spot where Ted was standing. "Uhm...Ted?" "Ted...ito...." Ted whispered as he stared just below Cris' pecs, realizing his head only came about half way up Cris' chest. "Nothing. Sorry. Cris! It's...uhm....good to see you." and Ted Chuckled. "You're freaked out again as I've grown more." "You could say that. Just a bit taken back." "Well I can tell you, if this keeps up....AAAHHHHH" said Cris while he bent sideways and backwards stretching his legs and back. "I will never again take a bus ride. There is no room for me. The ceilings are too short when I have to stand up, I'm like a foot taller than them." "A foot taller?!" "And my feet... when I was in a seat, even with my feet flat footed and my legs straight up, knees at my chin, not exactly but close, my poor feet went past my area, under the seat in front of me, and I think they were touching the heels of the person in front of me." "Good ni..... speaking of which, did you decide to make your shoes into or out of actual boats? Am I correct those are just wooden blocks for soles?" "Uhm.... yeah... well... it's getting a bit hard to find my shoe size so sometimes I... I need to improvise." "Dios mio, Cris!" "While we're waiting for them to unload the bags do you want an update?" "Yeah.... cause I might need to try and trade the van I rented for a panel truck." "You better sit down on this bench." "oh... gawd!" "Ok... I'm....seven feet ten and half inches tall now." "Caga." "I weigh four-hundred sixty-eight and a half pounds, and that would be because my muscles have gotten larger not just proportionately but per strength and development. My upper arm last time at your height would've been eighteen and half inches around. Now it would be twenty inches." "And at your height?" "They're twenty-five and a fourth inches around." "And your feet?" "I wear a size 38 shoe..... 38 4E wide." "thirty....." "Which means my feet are twenty inches long by eight and a fourth inches wide." "And that freakin' basket?" "I had to wear everything up. It's grown too and as my thigh muscles have increased in size, even with the extension added to the shorts, they're too tight and show it off too well. Especially when..." "When you have an accidental erection. Those are still happening?" "Yeah." "If that's not under control, there's a good chance you still have enough hormones coursing through you to..." "To grow some more... I know. I'm not sure what to do. The doctor's aren't sure what to do. Everything they've tried isn't working. On one hand I feel great. SUPER! Energized. Strong. But at the same time, I'm too much. I've had to order custom made furniture, clothes are getting impossible to find height, width, fullness wise. Then...then there's... the dating aspect." Cris bent down and whispered harshly to Ted. "Ted, I don't know what I'm going to do. I scared size queens. I mean I nearly scared them to death when I tried to date some and we got intimate." "You're that big?" "I'm.... that is it's....eighteen and third inches long." Ted would've collapsed to the ground if Cris' arm hadn't quickly gone around his waist and held him rock steady. Feeling his best friend's arm going around him almost as though he were a small child, feeling the strength, the size, the hardness and definition of Cris' arms with his body, sent erotic waves through Ted's body and he hoped and prayed silently in his mind that Cris could not feel his growing erection as he held him up. "You can stop. You've gotta stop. This is becoming an interruption in your life, a risk to your health. A risk to other's health. My gawd... you fuck a guy and it's gonna pop out of his mouth! Maybe it's a will thing, you're just gonna have to tell yourself, 'You can stop!'" Ted wished he could tell his cock the same thing, but it wouldn't listen if he did. The luggage finally unloaded, they got into the van, Cris having to ride in the back, and headed to Ted's house. Once there, the activities to help celebrate and take Cris' minds off of things, to help both Ted and Cris celebrate, only turned Ted on more and more. First Cris laid out on the couch to keep his legs stretched out instead of having to bend them. His head was at one end on the arm rest, his feet... his feet were nearly two feet past the other arm rest. His legs were sticking out beyond the couch from the middle of his calves and shins to his feet. This was bad enough, but Cris had kicked off his sandals so sticking out there, in the middle of the air were his ginormous feet, that Ted just couldn't help but see and secretly wish he could caress, fondle, and rub. Then came one of the bigger turn ons of all. Not thinking about it, Ted went to get the step stool to help put the star on top of the seven and a half foot tall tree, but there was Cris standing four inches taller than it. He didn't need the foot stool, which wouldn't have helped as between Cris' feet and his weight the thing probably would've been decimated. Instead Cris just grabbed the top of the tree easily, tilted it a little, and slipped the star onto the top. All night long Ted kept watching as everyday things appeared to suddenly shrink or become so small next to Cris. Watching the hulking form attempt to move from room to room while twisting, turning, ducking, flexing, Ted became glad when they two decided it was time for bed. Later that night Ted went walking past Cris' room to get to the bathroom. The door was ajar and the moonlight was streaming through the window. Cris was on the floor, having pulled the mattress off the bed, piled a few pillows off of one end, then laid out bed sheets across them all. Ted's dog, which always seemed to adore Cris had come in and pulled most of the quilt off of Cris' form, making a little pile and bed for himself near Cris' feet. This meant that the streaming moonlight was now caressing Cris' well built, male, nude form. The light highlighting all the rising mounds and bulges of each and every muscle on Cris' body, while helping to cause deep dark shadows into the crevices and valleys of the same. But there... just beyond the edge of the quilt his dog pulled slightly off of Cris, there was the tubular mound of Cris' penis. Cris was lying on his back, hands above his head, slumbering peacefully, perhaps joyfully away. His cock was caressed by a shaft of moonlight creating a long, luminescent highlight along his flaccid prick that was laying straight, head upward along his lower torso. Ted followed this highlight from Cris' crotch to about an inch, maybe two just below Cris' navel. "Hmmmmm ooooh...." Ted looked further up Cris' body. His eyes weren't opening, and his hands weren't moving, but the smile was spreading a little wider across his face. Ted realized Cris was having an erotic dream and as Cris shifted slightly and moaned in his sleep, Ted watched as Cris' cock began to stir and move. It lurched just a little bit bigger, then lurched just a little more, becoming thicker also in the process, but then it just began to stretch, to ooze, to easily and smoothly inflate and grow....Grow....GROW! It attempted to rise and rise up becoming a large monolith rising from Cris' nether region, but its length and thickness proved too much for the physics and instead it rose at an angle from Cris' body and hovered over his belly button. Ted nearly gasped when he realized how much it had grow to become erect and that if pressed down against Cris' torso, the end of Cris' schlong would touch a couple of inches above Cris' navel. "Foot and half indeed." thought Ted to himself. Then Cris began to stir a little more out of control. His hips began to buck slightly. His head began to tilt back, raising his chin slightly into the air. His mouth began to open just a sliver as his moans became slightly higher and louder. More and more he gyrated and moaned while his eyes flashed faster and faster in REM sleep. Suddenly Cris gasped slightly and Ted brought his eyes to where Cris' cock head was and he watched as that head and the rest of Cris' schlong shaft swelled ever thicker, longer, and harder and then released a stream of moonlit highlighted spoo the soared glow in the dark like across the air to splatter the slumbering Cris on his chin, neck, and chest. Two, three, four, five, six more ropes of spunk volleyed out of Cris leaving a trail of spoo from mouth to navel. Ted stood there transfixed nearly on the verge of creaming in his underwear until he heard a kind of gurgle waking sound out of Cris and he bolted for the bathroom. Shutting the door as quietly as he could, he sat down on the edge of the bath tub while pulling his cock out. It throbbed so hard and his balls suddenly ached for release as if denied the ability to do so for years. Thinking he heard a sound from the hallway, he suddenly flipped himself into the tub, sucking in a sharp intake of air as the cold enameled surface made contact with his body. Using his foot to kick the one knobbed faucet on, he prayed the water would be neither too cold or too hot when it came spraying out of the shower head. Luckily it was perfect and Ted grabbed a bottle of shampoo and wasted about half of it as he brought his wiener back to full erection and proceeded to whack it off until he had spewed the largest load of his life, nearly passing out and falling asleep in the shower.
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