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Preface I used to think I understood the world. I went to work, I enjoyed my friends, I loved my husband. The world was small and manageable. I liked that world. But that world was a delusion. Reality is so much bigger. So much bigger. Before it all happened, I didn’t really know my brother, my coworkers, or my husband. I didn’t even know myself. Now I know enough to know how little I know. But I know enough. I know the seductive power of being the largest man in the room. I know that office gossip and contract law can be dangerous and exhilarating. I know that temptation is one of the strongest forces in the universe. I know that magic is real. That last one was the biggest shock. But there’s a lot about me that’s big nowadays. At the beginning, I never would have believed any of this. I would have dismissed it as utter bullshit. But then it happened to me. My world began changing on a Friday morning in late March. It was a Friday morning like so many others. It was supposed to stay a perfectly ordinary Friday. It didn’t.

Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks and enjoy! Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5a -5b - 6 - 7 - 8a - 8b - 8c - 9 - 10 - 11a - 11b - 12a - 12b - 13a - 13b - 13c - 13d] Part 1 Working as a coordinator in Human Resources wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. Sometimes, I’d wish something big would happen. Shake things up a bit. One particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk. He was wearing his favorite sky blue button-down, seemingly custom-fitted to accommodate his broad chest. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. A guy like him, 23, fresh out of college, with a fit 5’11” body, had no business being in HR with me—not when he already worked part-time as a model. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to the big man’s place again?” he asked. We normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. “I don’t mind, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus combed his fingers through his wavy blonde hair, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” “What new intern? No one told me about any interns.” “That’s because you never attend our meetings.” “And you do? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and we literally just talked about you putting red food coloring in the water tanks.” Marcus laughed, with a smirk. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s the name?” “Ah, wait.” Marcus brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What is it? I’m busy—like you should be.” He was automatically set to speaker. “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was near. Since you two asked, could you two let the kid in and show him around? Thanks.” “I’ll happily do it for the low, low price of $100.” “Do it, or I’ll fire you,” Wes said, immediately tossing Marcus into a panic to put the phone off speaker. “I’m the only thing stopping your lazy ass from sleeping on the streets.” “You’re no fun, old man.” Marcus lopped his head onto his shoulder and eyed me with intent, rolling his eyes as Wes berated him. “Hold up, the sky just fell on Dory. He’s bleeding out as we speak. I gotta go.” He put the phone back away. “Well. Looks like you’ve got some work to do.” I knew it. “Didn’t he tell you to welcome him?” Marcus shrugged. “You heard the big man; I’m supposed to be busy. And I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” Every attempt at scolding him fell on deaf ears. Any other employee treated Wes’ words as if they were a riddle, the difference between life and death. But not Marcus. He was just naturally incapable of playing by the rules, much to everyone’s dismay. I finished off as much as I could on my workbooks before I forgot which sheet I was working on. I was mid-daydream when there was a knock at the glass door. He was wearing a black button-down, the sleeves rolled up, and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His black hair was short and cropped and struggling to contain his bedhead despite the immense amount of product exposed by the unnatural levels of gloss. If I’d seen him on the streets, despite his size, I would’ve guessed by his face, boasting the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, that he hadn’t even applied to a university yet—especially not Harbridge. I remembered his name and felt I’d read it somewhere before; some shame held me back from the handle, a strange obligation to know who he was. His height carved a lean figure, but his shoulders were wider than even Marcus’ and sloped down to a waist as slim as mine—and I was half-a-foot shorter. I couldn’t believe he even found a shirt that fit such a comical V-taper. If Marcus stuck to his workout routine as religiously as he harassed me and Wes, he might’ve had the same proportions, not that he needed to look any better. I welcomed him in and noted his slumped shoulders, trembling from the cold of our freezer-like office. He smiled at me and tried his darnedest to shrink himself. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous grin. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. “Don’t worry. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but we had an emergency at home.” His gestures seemed almost rehearsed, and they would’ve been perfectly normal if they weren’t so thrown off by his shivering. I pitied him; I remembered feeling the same way when I first got a job, the unshakeable urge to impress whoever my livelihood depended on, whoever my gut deemed important. I was flattered. But would it have been any different if it were anyone else opening the door? “Family comes first. No one’ll blame you for that,” I said. “Did you bring extra clothes? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “Relax. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” It was surprisingly firm for its slenderness. I let my fingers run across parts of his skin and found the telltale veins that came with heavy exertion. “Are you sure?” “Didn’t I tell you to relax?” I brought him to my desk and grabbed him a seat. He’d greet passing coworkers with a small wave and shy smile. I handed him a plain white shirt from my emergency kit. It looked kid-size in his hands and almost thought to take it back. He looked it over and had the same cogs whirling in his eyes: realising it was too small. More than one size too small. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. He must have taken my silence as a command to proceed. I leaned back into my seat as I watched him unbutton his button-down. He started from the top, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, the outline of his musculature visible despite the lack of shape. Like Wes, he too had no body hair. Even his underarms had the most negligible strands, invisible to anyone who didn’t care to look. My eyes travelled to span the breadth between shoulder to shoulder, something I never typically needed to whenever I measured up the men I met with. “Nice abs,” I teased. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to do gymnastics, but I had to quit.” He frowned a bit, so I dug deeper. “I wanted to focus on my studies. And I… needed to start earning.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole, ruining the collar, and struggled to stretch the fabric without tearing it. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. Not that it would’ve mattered since he could only fit one arm into a sleeve at a time. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and pelvic belt. It looked like a crop top. How he got into something so tight was a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I rubbed his shoulder, feeling my knuckles graze the separations of his upper arms. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” As we walked off, I looked back at him and swore I saw him mouth the words, ‘Am I?’ His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt or sopping wet. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. His eyes kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What do you think you’re doing?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted dryly. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? In case it wasn’t clear to you, I’m telling you now as a friend that you are one small guy. I think you might even be second shortest here after Wes.” He glanced at the half-naked college kid next to me. “Did you try lending him one of yours? Let me guess: too small? So you came all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me? Your busiest, most hardworking work buddy?” “In so many words: yes.” “Alrighty then. Here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, ink blue shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy if not a bit too tight. It was a bit short at the hem. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. And dry. The sleeves accentuated what little muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “Nice body you’ve got there,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice workout.” “He’s not a maid.” “And I’m not a Roomba. Someone’s got to do it, and it’s not going to be me,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “It’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus, full name Marcus Green.” He pointed at me. “The little guy following you around is your, uh, supervisor. You can call him Dory. Our manager is Wes: he’s the short, stocky Malaysian dude in that room over there. The name on the door’s ‘Wesley Smith,’ but I’d bet you my left ass cheek that it’s a fake name; I’ve never met anyone from Asia with a name as disgustingly white as ‘Wesley Smith.’ If you come work for us full-time, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We’ve got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop flirting with my intern.” “You’re not my mom.” “As if anyone would wanna be.” Wes’ office was in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or left for the washroom for the nth time in a row, Wes would be the first to scold him. Marcus, of course, never cared. Wes was a good-looking man for his age, 36, having South-East Asian genes and a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure. But, as he hated acknowledging, his 5’6” stature (an inch shorter than me) didn’t give people much reason to respect him, not when everyone looked down on him—in the most literal sense. His shorter frame also emphasised the consequences of his weekly drinking. He did go to the gym after work, dare I say more often than Marcus did, but his little alcohol gut never melted away. What no one can deny, however, is that relative to his height, he probably had the most muscle out of anyone. Marcus had confessed to me before that he was glad Wes was as short as he was. Wes walked out of his office, eyes shut in annoyance. He was wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his small gut and smaller muscles. And his khaki pants were skintight, accentuating his amateurish hamstrings. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing in the lightest colours because they made him look bigger. “Why are you making so much noise?” he asked, before opening his eyes and inspecting the three of us. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hey, Wes. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got rained on.” “Well, it’s nice to meet you in person, Froy. I thought from your voice that you would’ve been…” Marcus snorted and pursed his lips in a mischievous grin. “Shorter? Smaller?” Whatever semblance of a smile Wes had had had disappeared. “Younger.” He sighed. “Show him around the floor or something,” he said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes?” “Make sure he’s got a ride home later, got it? We’re gonna have a little fun.” I finished up the rest of my work to tour Froy around the building. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. The four of us planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8:00 PM. It was only Froy’s first day as an intern, but he never declined. “Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy shook his head and smiled meekly. “Oh, no, sir, I don’t have any issues. I’m used to being the sober one.” “I’ll take your word for it. If it’s any reassurance, don’t worry about anything going wrong. Most of us are sane enough to not burn the place down. And I’ll personally make sure nothing inappropriate happens.” We headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were tens of paper cups strewn about across the asphalt. And it smelled heavily of coffee and rum. When it came to me, they were professional actors at making me feel like they’d been waiting for years. Marcus stormed up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some things, and it took longer than I thought. No need to get your thong all twisted.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “I haven’t had dinner yet, and my stash isn’t gonna drink itself. And you won’t like me when I’m sober! Or hungry!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. Marcus hated seatbelts—they made him feel claustrophobic, or something—and I preferred the safety of one. At least he could pretend he had one on. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. He’d gotten high off the hot air in his head in the absence of alcohol. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. If you ever wanna come with me to the gym, just hit me up, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” He rubbed Froy’s flat chest, studying its firmness. “Better than those two shorties anyway.” “Hey, don’t call me short!” Wes exclaimed. “And why would you ask the intern before your boss who you know goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “More than you do, I might add.” “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus provoked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a raise, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just hard being buddy-buddy with someone so short. Plus, you’ve got that gut.” “A belly used to be a sign of wealth, you know.” “Yeah, when the common cold was the plague; so what? Unless you’re coming out as an immortal, anyone who thought that is dead. Abs are everything these days, old man.” Marcus winked back at Froy. “You could learn a thing or two from Froy here.” They continued for the next half hour. The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted, and Wes was getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was. His son was getting impatient after being locked up for so long. I had to be the one taking his calls since he wasn’t about to set a bad example while Marcus of all people was around. When we got to the man-made woods between the condos and the rest of the city, Marcus brought out a case of mints. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise, it’s going to take more than an edible this time.” Wes groaned. “I’m actually starving.” “No, seriously, it’s just a candy. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed a small, white pill on his palm. “This better not be another one of your jokes, Marcus. The last one is still giving my son diarrhea.” Wes downed the capsule without a second thought. On cue, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him?” I asked. “Did you just kill our driver?” “I don’t think I’ve been registered for insurance yet,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “Is that supposed to make me feel better—oh. Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable. He was moaning and groaning, shifting around like a fist had spawned in his ass. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his khaki pants. I thought it was just viagra. I hoped it was, at least. But a wet spot began to form. Wes’ brown face was burning red as a tomato. The familiarly pungent aroma of my teenage wank sessions filled the car in an instant. It was all any of us could smell. The spot grew into a spill, then a puddle, then a mess. I looked back at Marcus and Froy; Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure sadistic glee. He wore the face of a child witnessing Santa for the first time. Froy on the other hand was mortified. No doubt he was thinking whether this qualified as a sexual harassment lawsuit. Wes was in a haze. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was processing, or what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and fled to a clearing to inspect the damages. The three of us followed suit. It had stopped raining, but the winds were still howling, so the reprieve wouldn’t last all night. “What the fuck did you give me, Marcus?” Wes asked, taking off his pants. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” It was a convenient excuse. Though, I can’t blame Wes at the time for not realising it was hardly the full truth, considering whose kitchen it was, and what kind of depraved, expired things were kept locked away from sensible eyes. This was the same man who modelled in college, the same who belonged to a frat infamous for its nightly festivities, to put it lightly, and the same who had a different woman in his arms every other week. I wasn’t so oblivious. Written in Froy’s sober eyes was the same conclusion. “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot across the top-half of his pants. If we didn’t know any better, we might’ve mistaken it for piss by its sheer quantity. While Marcus and Froy were mesmerised by Wes’ pants being held to the sky like the baby Simba, I was distracted by another big surprise down below. A mighty thick one. He may have been short, but at least those missing inches went somewhere. “I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I wet myself… already! I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Wes held out a hand. “Give me your shirt. I need to wipe myself off before the rain comes back.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish. He walked up to Wes and peeled off his top, showing off his chiseled swimmer’s torso on a bulk. The moon cast shadows all over his upper body, drawing lines another’s fingers would trace, glistening with the barest splash of sweat. I decided it was a good time to wander a bit with Froy and enjoy the beautiful nighttime scenery over by the stone terrace. I was glad they had a viewing deck out in the woods. It felt like a privilege to encounter something so secret. I thought about all the couples that must’ve come and gone, hoping to find a hole in the world they could enjoy in silence. The bright city lights burned through the branches around us, becoming like stars that swayed with the wind. In that instant, we were alone. “This is a great view,” I said, seeing him smile at me from the corner of my eye. “I think so, too,” Froy replied. “The stars out here are much nicer than the lit apartment windows outside my window.” “I hope your first day’s going as good as you expected.” “You’ve made it better than I think it would’ve been without you, sir. So, thank you.” It was nice to hear those words; they plucked a string I didn’t know I had. “Do you think you’ll like interning with us?” He chuckled silently. “As long as you’re my supervisor.” “Don’t worry. I’ll be your only supervisor. It’ll just be us two.” As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the sky. Wes and Marcus, still pants-less and shirtless, came over and joined us in staring at looked like a shooting star, a shining pearl amid a sea of ebony. “Enjoying your date?” Marcus joked. But I couldn’t be assed to reply. As surreal as it was to see a twinkling ball of glitter falling from the sky, it looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. Towards us. Increasing in size with each blink. “Hey, that’s not a fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes yelled. “Hide behind something!” His yelling was less a warning and more just panicked yelling. It was only a building’s height away at that point, so we barely had time to react. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crashing in the clearing. Flaming dirt erupted like confetti, covering the area in a charred powder. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see and hear things again. We were a good distance away from the city, but someone had to have heard it or seen it, or felt it, at least. I blamed myself for getting caught unaware, wondering if I would’ve known about it if it weren’t for my aversion to news and tabloids. All four of us emerged from whatever hiding spots we ended up in and eyed the strange rock. Most of us approached it hesitantly, watching from a distance in case any surprises were waiting to pop out. I highly doubted our job’s insurance covered random alien impregnation. Of course, who else but Marcus would do away with caution and gingerly walk up to the crater with the gait of a little girl picking a pocketful of posies. He stuck out his hands and, without touching it, felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes scolded. Marcus rolled his eyes and flashed us his shit-eating grin. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anything.” It seemed to have cooled off when we all gathered around it. We examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances pouring out. For the next few seconds, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring, old space rock. It was only about three-feet tall and just the littlest bit oblong. I held a pebble from the river like it once, only smaller. It didn’t grow a face and sing or demand brains to eat or birth a carnivorous plant. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “I think it’s just a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. Marcus shoved the boss aside like cardboard. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus leapt onto the meteor with a thud and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He’d gone full monkey. I tried to stop him. “Marcus, what are you doing?!” He bounced on it with his full body weight, trying to crack it open like an egg and reveal whatever secrets it held. Froy backed away while Wes and I attempted to pry him off of it. “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” he yelled. “I can feel it. There’s something in here with my name on it!” With a hand to the meteor, I felt it rumble in my palm. Whatever was inside was getting agitated. The shell shuddered against my fingers, a prelude. The contents fighting to keep its unbending exterior whole. The next moment spanned a handful of seconds. Marcus let out a primal yell as he charged all his strength into a full-body kick on a single point. Only the heels of his feet made contact when a reverberating crack stunned all four of us. A glowing lime green hue flashed from within. It wrapped Marcus in its light like an ice statue. He continued to sink into the opening as it splintered and branched out. The glow seemed to materialise as it escaped its casing. First in flecks, then spurts, before fully forming into a semi-liquid slime. Wes and I fled before it caught the both of us in Marcus’ stupidity. I reached out my hand, and Froy grabbed it. He struggled to get me out. I was the only one of my group of friends who hadn’t lifted a thing in his life, and that guilt weighed me down. Every fibre on Froy’s body strained as he did everything to save me. “Heavy…” I heard him mutter. If only I were lighter. I looked back, and noticed Wes struggling to climb out of the crater. His limbs were too short, and he—even with all his time in the gym—was too weak. Each failed attempt only frustrated him more. Marcus was all but consumed in the slime, the meteor only an instant away from exploding. A blinding flash erased my memory of the next few moments. My eyes shut and ears deafened for the second time that night, I felt myself floating for a breath before being thrown onto trimmed grass. When I came to, the first thing I saw was Froy. The crater, filled with the alien goo, had become a floodlight that cast a neon green silhouette onto Froy. He was petrified the same way a dummy would be. Only his upper half was outside the crater, but his entire backside was drenched in the luminescent slime. I wasn’t sure if he was conscious. I scrambled over to his side as fast as I could to try and revive him. While I dragged his long body out of the crater, I peered inside to check on the other two. Something stood out instantly about the bowl of primordial sludge: Marcus was nowhere in sight. Wes was on the other side, half-submerged as if he were lounging in a jacuzzi—except that his entire frontside had been painted on with lime green. I didn’t think he could breathe. He must’ve swallowed enough of it to fill his belly, if he wasn’t already drowned in it. I dragged Froy to a safe enough spot. Strangely, a lot of the slime on his back had already evaporated, but I didn’t have time to study him under a microscope. “I’m sorry…” he coughed. “I wasn’t strong enough to pull you out.” “Save your strength. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m dry.” “Okay, sir…” I circled around to Wes and noted the same abnormality: that the slime had receded by a lot. So much so that I was able to pull Wes out by his underarms without getting any residual slime on me. I folded him over to his side to force the slime stuck in his lungs to eject, but instead of vomiting, I heard the unmistakeable sound of swallowing. His mouth was emptied when I laid him on his back. My curiosity took over, and I stared intently at the slime lingering on his face. As I suspected, while negligible, the globules of slime visibly shrank and sank into the pores on his skin, reverting into its original light form. Within seconds, he was dry as Froy. He opened his eyes, found mine, and immediately groaned. “My hero.” “I thought you were drowning in whatever the green stuff is. Are you okay?” He rested a palm on my cheek and stared dryly at me. “I haven’t had a bite to eat, I just ejaculated an ocean of spunk in front of my coworkers, and then I got hit by a meteor and almost drowned in the woods. Nothing a rare steak and bottle of soju won’t fix.” As the two of us got on our feet, I chanced to see a strange green glow coming from his exposed briefs for a brief second. His balls, I realised, were the source. I was hoping to get a better look but his obscene bulge was as wide as it was long and blocked my view. “I know it’s big, Dory, but don’t you think it’s in poor taste to be propositioning me at a time like this?” “I wasn’t peeping! I was just— Never mind.” “Yeah. Sure.” Wes moved past me and surveyed the area. “I saw Froy save you at the last second, you know. It was a very dramatic sacrifice, him throwing you out and him falling in. Good thing he’s strong. And tall. I would’ve been fine, too, if I…” But he never finished his sentence. “Do you know what happened to Marcus?” I asked, changing the topic. The surrounding site had dimmed somewhat since I first opened my eyes. The light from the crater had diminished weaker than a glow, and the green no longer overpowered the moonlight. While the pool of slime had become only a puddle, there was still no body to be found. In its stead, there were fragments and shards scattered about from the original meteor. Wes sighed sarcastically. “I wouldn’t complain if he got eaten by whatever was in that thing. I’ll have good dreams tonight imagining him melting, or burning, or shrinking—” “What about growing?” Marcus’ voice came. “I think I’d make an awesome superhero.” We found Marcus standing upright to our side. The shock of seeing him detracted from the remaining slime in the crater disappearing—whether into the air or the soil, I couldn’t tell. He looked exactly as he did right before the explosion. I distinctly remembered seeing his entire body sink into the slime, engulfed completely in the flood of green. It was as though he’d just arrived, fresh from a day’s work. Minus the shirtlessness. Wes walked past me and punched Marcus in the shoulder. “Even heroes need day jobs, Clark Kent.” Marcus flexed one arm and rested it on Wes’ head, raising an eyebrow at me in tune with each bounce. “I know at least one guy who’d love me as a Superman.” He was swatted away like a fly. “It won’t be your lawyer, that’s for sure. If I get a single—no, ten tumours because you decided to wrestle with a radioactive space rock, you’ll be drowning in more than slime.” Froy’s quiet footsteps shuffled up behind us, and we all gave one another a good look-over to make sure there weren’t any stubborn green stains or wounds or unnatural growths in places they shouldn’t be. Once everyone was satisfied, we ended the day at Wes’ condo. Wes’ wife Maria pulled him aside to give him an earful about fathering while the rest of us took turns showering and spending the night in the guest room. The worst part wasn’t even that Marcus snored or that Froy was a notorious sleep-cuddler: it was that we went to bed sober.

Missed Opportunity Dave a is 24-year-old college meat head who’d known nothing other than being handed everything to him in his life thanks to his charming, good looks and blessed genetics giving him the body that most guys spent their whole lives building, while he only spent a year in the gym and blew up to incredible size. He’d grown accustomed to being the top dog everywhere he went, and it certainly went to his head as many that were around him would certainly tell you that Dave was a *bit* of a douche. Yet even with all his size and charm it just wasn’t enough for him he needed MORE. So, when he stumbled on some new experimental protein shakes that were hitting the market in very limited quantities, he thought why the hell not and bought the last pack that was in stock before the site was mysteriously taken down a day later. A few weeks later all he could think about was the effects that the new shakes could have on his body and the package was scheduled to be delivered to his dorm that very day. He was ready to sprint like mad to get home and down one of the four shakes before or after his workout. But as he would soon find out it wasn’t just the shakes that he would find waiting for him when he got back home. ---- After his workout he excitedly rushed home heading down the hall ready to improve his gains even further. But as he drew near the door, he could hear noises coming from inside. His two dweeb twink roommates were surely there which already made him angry. He wanted to enjoy his post workout pump alone with no distractions. His roommates Adrian and Michael were both gay and he knew how bad they wanted him from day one, but he didn’t swing that way, although that didn’t stop him from soaking up all their adoration and teasing them with the body of a god they could never get with. Opening the door, he was met with a scene out of his worst nightmares. Adrian and Michael were grinding up on each other fully nude and they were both HUGE! “What the fuck dweebs! What happened to you two?!” The two former twinks were laid out on the couch each of them man spreading their mammoth legs completely filling the couch as their thighs pressed against each other, both of their impressive manhood’s now over 9 inches long leaking pre while the two kissed previously. The both of them had to be over 6’2 looking massive even compared to himself. “Oh, hey Dave didn’t hear you come in.” Adrian said in a luscious deep voice. “Bro thanks for those shakes they were fucking GOOD!” Michael said licking his lips as he looked at Dave with a hunger in his eyes. More terror filled Dave’s mind as he realized his roommates had opened his delivery and take the shakes for themselves. “Please fucking tell me you dweebs didn’t drink them all.” “Don’t worry were not monsters of course we left you one.” Adrian said. Without a second thought Dave’s body moved on its own scouring for the shake in the kitchen seeing the pack torn open with only one bottle of the four left by itself. He quickly twisted the cap off and chugged it down eager to see the results it would have on his body since his small scrawny twink roommates blew up to monstrous sizes. Adrian and Michael watched in horny anticipation as they were waiting to watch the guy, they’ve been pining for grow into a god. The process was already starting. His stomach bubbling as the shake slid down his throat. His muscles growing fuller at a slow rate as he was painfully aroused his average 6 incher tenting in his shorts as his body started pumping itself larger. But like most of his advances in bed the growth that came finished within seconds his cock exploding in his shorts as Adrian and Michael watched in disbelief. Dave had never been more embarrassed in his life as he felt like he had only added a measly 10 pounds of muscle and not an inch of height to his body as his godly roommates looked at him with disappointment in their eyes. “What the hell did you dweebs do why didn’t I grow like you two?!” “Dunno man we just drankem like you did.” Adrian responded. Michael chipped in “Guess you shouldn’t have been so proud of those genetics after all huh Dave!” Dave was appalled by Michaels observation, it filled him with a sense of humiliation and need to lash out, but as he looked at the much larger man in front of him, there was nothing he could do but accept his fate. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse a guttural moan escaped Adrian’s cum ridden mouth. Bracing himself against Michael “OH FU- … IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!” “oh god….PLEASE NO!” was all Dave could think as every single muscle in Adrian’s body rippled with strength as he grew once again now becoming inhumanely large as he bucked against Michaels body. In all his euphoric torment Adrian was at the mercy of Michaels touch as he pleaded for sweet release. “please bro….help!” was all he could mutter as Michael quickly understood and proceeded to help his friend out Taking his large head into his mouth he put his skills to good use as Adrian quickly blew his load into his mouth as his growth subsided. Michael struggled to chug down the copious amounts of cum being blasted down his throat almost choking as he savored every drop that was being shot into his stomach. Minutes pass as Dave was left mortified, glued to the ground he stood on unable to look away as Aiden had become the very thing, he so desperately craved for himself. As he got control of his body again Adrian pulled Michael off his 13 incher and sat him on his lap his head now over a foot taller than Michaels. He then turned his hear upwards muttering out a thank you before planting a kiss on his lips as thanks for his help. Breaking the kiss, he looks back at Dave seeing the man that was once huge to him looking up at him with awe and jealousy. “Don’t look so glum bro maybe you just didn’t grow enough the first time…well for your sake I hope there is a next time.” Adrian’s words cut into him like a knife destroying his confidence so easily for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even get a word out trying to respond as he watched the two gods enjoying their new bodies together. That’s when Michael chipped in with his own thoughts. “Oh, maybe there’s hope for you yet. Your dad swung by earlier and he took one of the shakes with him before we got into them.” A chill ran down Dave’s spine hearing Michaels words now only thinking one thing. “I’ve got to get home and pray that dad hasn’t drunken that shake.”

Season 1 Chapter 1 The night sky erupted in a blinding flash, followed by an earth-shattering boom. Ollie's world spun violently as the car careened off the road, metal screeching against asphalt. "Mom! Dad!" Ollie cried out, his voice hoarse with panic. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils as he struggled to move. "I can't... I can't feel my legs!" Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the chaos. "Hey! Can you hear me? I'm coming to get you out!" Brock's muscular form appeared at the shattered window, his open flannel shirt revealing a glimpse of his impressive chest beneath a tight tank top. With a grunt, he wrenched the door open. "Easy now, kid. I've got you," Brock said, his strong arms wrapping around Ollie's slender frame. "What's your name?" "O-Ollie," he stammered, wincing as Brock pulled him free. "My parents... they're still inside!" Brock's eyes darted to the front of the car, assessing the situation. "I'll get them. Just stay put, alright?" As Brock turned back toward the wreckage, a deafening explosion rocked the night. Flames engulfed the vehicle, the heat searing against their skin. "No!" Ollie screamed, trying to lunge forward despite his immobile legs. Brock caught him, holding him back. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry," Brock's voice cracked with genuine anguish. He fumbled for his phone, dialing quickly. "This is Dr. Brock Steele. I need emergency services on Route 7, about 10 miles outside of Millbrook. Car explosion, two fatalities, one injured teenager." Ollie sobbed against Brock's chest, leaving streaks of blood on the white tank top. Brock's arm tightened around him protectively. "Listen, Ollie," Brock said, his tone urgent but gentle. "The ambulance might take a while to get here. I'm going to drive you to the hospital myself, okay? We need to get you checked out." "But my parents..." Ollie choked out. Brock's face was a mask of sympathy and determination. "There's nothing we can do for them now. We need to focus on you. Can you trust me?" Ollie looked up, meeting Brock's intense gaze. Despite the horror of the situation, he felt an inexplicable sense of safety in this stranger's arms. He nodded weakly. "That's good, kid. You're being real brave," Brock said, scooping Ollie up as if he weighed nothing. "My car's just up the road. We'll get you help, I promise." As Brock carried him away from the burning wreckage, Ollie caught another glimpse of the man's muscular chest, peeking out from his partially unbuttoned shirt. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice the strength and warmth radiating from Brock's body. "Stay with me, Ollie," Brock's deep voice rumbled. "Keep talking. Tell me about yourself." As they made their way to Brock's car, Ollie's world narrowed to the sound of that voice and the feeling of those strong arms around him, a lifeline in the midst of unimaginable tragedy. Ollie's voice trembled as he spoke, his words punctuated by quiet sobs. "I... I just graduated high school. Was supposed to start college in the fall." Brock carefully maneuvered Ollie into the passenger seat of his car, his strong hands gentle as he buckled the seatbelt around the injured teen. "That's great, Ollie. What were you planning to study?" "Medicine," Ollie replied, his voice distant. "My dad... he was a doctor too. Always wanted me to follow in his footsteps." Brock's heart clenched at the pain in Ollie's voice. He reached over, giving the young man's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he was very proud of you." As Brock sped towards the hospital, Ollie stared blankly out the window, tears streaming down his face. "I can't believe they're gone. What am I supposed to do now?" "One step at a time, kid," Brock said softly. "Right now, we focus on getting you better. The rest... we'll figure it out." They pulled up to the ER entrance, Brock jumping out and rushing to Ollie's side. He scooped the teen into his arms once more, carrying him through the automatic doors. "I need help here!" Brock called out, his voice commanding attention. Nurses and doctors swarmed around them, peppering Brock with questions. "Car accident. Possible spinal injury, multiple lacerations and contusions. Parents DOA at the scene," Brock rattled off, his tone professional despite the urgency. Ollie found himself being transferred to a gurney, the bright lights of the ER ceiling flashing above him. He reached out, his hand grasping for Brock. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice small and frightened. Brock caught Ollie's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, Ollie. I'll be right here." As the medical team wheeled Ollie away, Brock's reassuring presence never wavered. Even as doctors and nurses worked to assess his injuries, Ollie's eyes remained locked on Brock, clinging to the strength and comfort the man provided. Hours later, Ollie lay in a hospital bed, his body bandaged and his heart heavy with grief. Brock sat beside him, still wearing his blood-stained tank top, his flannel shirt discarded somewhere along the way. "Why did you stay?" Ollie asked, his voice hoarse from crying. Brock leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Because you needed someone. And because... I know what it's like to lose everything in a single moment." Ollie's eyes widened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. In that instant, he felt a connection to Brock that went beyond mere gratitude. "Thank you," Ollie whispered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "For saving me. For being here." Brock reached out, gently brushing a tear from Ollie's face. "You're not alone, Ollie. I promise you that." As Ollie lay in the hospital bed, his eyes drifted to Brock, taking in the man's appearance. Despite the blood stains on his white tank top, Brock's muscular physique was impossible to ignore. The fabric stretched taut across his broad chest, hinting at the powerful pectorals beneath. His shoulders and arms were equally impressive, the muscles flexing with each small movement. Even in his grief-stricken state, Ollie couldn't help but notice Brock's rugged handsomeness. The man's chiseled jawline, strong features, and kind eyes created a striking combination. However, given the tragedy that had just unfolded, Ollie felt no stirrings of arousal, only a deep appreciation for Brock's presence and support. Brock's appearance exudes raw masculinity and mature allure. His face is chiseled and handsome, with strong, defined features that hint at his 42 years. Dark, expressive eyebrows frame intense eyes that seem to hold depths of experience. His jawline is sharp and masculine, covered in a light dusting of stubble that accentuates his rugged appeal. Fine lines around his eyes and mouth add character, speaking to a life lived fully. His hair is short and neatly styled, dark and thick, cut close on the sides with a bit more length on top. It's the kind of no-nonsense cut that requires minimal maintenance but always looks put-together. Brock's body is a testament to his dedication as both a scientist and personal trainer. His frame is large and imposing, with broad shoulders tapering down to a solid core. His chest is expansive and well-developed, straining against the fabric of his shirts. His arms are thick and powerful, veins visible beneath the skin, speaking to both strength and vascularity. How I imagine what Brock would look like at this point of story, but less muscular, no abs, less body hair Model reference https://www.instagram.com/sergey.nyzhnyk/ A knock at the door drew their attention as a nurse and doctor entered the room. "Hello, Ollie," the doctor said gently, glancing at his chart. "I'm Dr. Patel, and this is Nurse Johnson. We're here to check on your injuries and get you started on treatment." Ollie nodded weakly, wincing as the nurse began to carefully remove the temporary bandages applied in the ER. Dr. Patel examined each wound, her skilled hands probing gently for signs of deeper damage. "The lacerations are fairly superficial," she noted, "but we'll need to clean and stitch a few of the deeper ones. Any pain or discomfort, Ollie?" "My legs," Ollie said, his voice strained. "I still can't feel them properly." Dr. Patel's expression turned serious. "We'll need to run some tests to assess the extent of the spinal injury. An MRI and CT scan will give us a better idea of what we're dealing with." As the doctor continued her examination, Nurse Johnson began cleaning and dressing Ollie's wounds. Brock watched, his brow furrowed with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his deep voice filled with genuine care. Nurse Johnson glanced up, offering Brock a small smile. "Just being here is helping, sir. Support from loved ones is crucial in the healing process." Brock nodded, his eyes meeting Ollie's. In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them - Brock would be the support Ollie needed, even if they had only just met. Dr. Patel finished her assessment, making notes on Ollie's chart. "We'll get you scheduled for those scans as soon as possible. In the meantime, try to rest. Your body has been through a lot." As the medical team left the room, Brock moved closer to Ollie's bedside. "You heard the doc, kid. Rest up. I'll be right here if you need anything." Ollie managed a small nod, his eyelids growing heavy. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the night's events finally caught up with him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Brock settled into the chair beside Ollie's bed, his muscular form seeming to dwarf the small hospital furniture. He watched over the young man, a silent guardian ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. In that quiet moment, a bond began to form between them, a connection forged in the crucible of shared tragedy and unexpected compassion. As the day progressed, Ollie found himself being wheeled through the hospital corridors, the sterile walls and fluorescent lights blurring together. Brock walked alongside the gurney, his presence a constant comfort in the unfamiliar surroundings. "We're taking you for the CT scan now, Ollie," Nurse Johnson explained gently. "It's a painless procedure, but it's important for us to get a clear picture of your spinal injury." Ollie nodded, his hands gripping the sides of the gurney. The fear of the unknown weighed heavily on his mind, compounded by the grief that still consumed him. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's anxiety. He placed a large, comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. "You've got this, kid. I'll be waiting for you when you're done." Ollie managed a weak smile, drawing strength from Brock's unwavering support. As he was positioned on the CT scanner, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of Brock's hand rather than the cold, clinical atmosphere. The scan seemed to take an eternity, the whirring and clicking of the machine filling Ollie's ears. When it was finally over, he was returned to his room, exhausted and emotionally drained. Brock was there, just as he had promised. He helped the nurses settle Ollie back into bed, his strong arms gentle and reassuring. Dr. Patel arrived shortly after, her expression serious as she reviewed the scan results. "Ollie, the CT scan shows significant swelling around your spinal cord. While there's no evidence of a complete spinal cord injury, the swelling is putting pressure on the nerves, which is likely causing the numbness and weakness in your legs." Ollie felt a wave of fear wash over him. "Will I... will I be able to walk again?" Dr. Patel met his gaze, her eyes filled with compassion. "It's too early to say for certain. Spinal injuries can be unpredictable. But we'll be starting you on high-dose corticosteroids to reduce the swelling, and we'll be monitoring your condition closely." Brock stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "What's the next step, doc?" "We'll be admitting Ollie to the hospital for further treatment and observation," Dr. Patel explained. "He'll need intensive physical therapy and rehabilitation to give him the best chance at recovery." Ollie felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, the weight of his situation crashing down on him. Not only had he lost his parents, but now he faced the possibility of never walking again. Brock seemed to sense Ollie's distress. He sat on the edge of the bed, his muscular frame dipping the mattress as he took Ollie's hand in his own. "Hey, look at me, Ollie. You're not facing this alone. I'll be with you every step of the way." Ollie met Brock's gaze, finding strength and comfort in those intense eyes. He nodded, swallowing back his tears. "Thank you, Brock. I don't... I don't know what I would do without you." Brock smiled softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of Ollie's hand. "You don't have to worry about that, kid. I'm not going anywhere." As the hospital staff bustled around them, making preparations for Ollie's admission, the young man clung to Brock's presence like a lifeline. The road ahead was uncertain and filled with challenges, but with Brock by his side, Ollie felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Ollie lay in his hospital bed, his mind began to wander. The trauma of the day mixed with the strong painkillers, creating a hazy state where reality blurred with fantasy. He found himself imagining Brock as the muscular daddy figure he'd always secretly dreamed about. In his mind's eye, Ollie saw Brock's powerful arms wrapping around him protectively, those broad pecs pressed against his back. He imagined Brock's deep voice whispering words of comfort and love, calling him "son" in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Ollie's cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and desire. Here he was, in the midst of tragedy, entertaining these forbidden thoughts about the man who had saved his life. He tried to push the images away, but they clung to the edges of his consciousness, a tempting escape from the harsh reality of his situation.

Hello all! I have edited the first part of this story after receiving some feedback from the very helpful Mdlftr (THANK YOU SO MUCH!). I feel like I have fleshed these characters out a little better now. Please enjoy! Fine… Be a Brat Andy quickly ran his fingers through his honey blond hair, sweeping it back and out of his emerald eyes. His perfectly maintained lab coat was almost blindingly white, matching the pristine teeth that Dan had so graciously given him last month. Just because. He giggled a little thinking about it, flashing a blinding smile that made Yolanda Ángeles, the lab tech from epigenetics, blush all the way to her ears. She grinned and looked away from him, swiping her nearly perfectly manicured nails through her raven hair. He saw the tiniest of chips in the cerulean polish on her left pointer nail. Once he walked past her and no one could see his face, Andy’s smile got even broader. “Oh honey, I’m much more high maintenance than you. You couldn’t afford me on a lab tech salary. My last facial cost as much as that Sentra you drive.” He thought, in a self-satisfied manner. He didn’t really want to compete with Yolanda, but he didn’t mind flirting with her a little. Andy knew he was gay and he loved powerful, masculine bodies. His partner, on the other hand, was sexually omnivorous and consumed the finest bodies like candies. Andy turned and looked at Yolanda’s tight body in her white lab coat. The garment hugged her every curve, exaggerating her well-endowed femininity. This was not missed by her, and she began to sway her hips a little more, slipping her hands into her pockets to pull the coat tighter to her body. He grinned. Maybe he would invite her to the estate to spend time with his sir. Andy’s smoldering eyes glittered with excitement. All of these: the money, the attitude, the looks, were just a few of the perks of having a man like Danny. Andy’s daily allowance was enough to be considered “fuck you money” by even some of the doctors here, even if he didn’t spend it all. The lab tech had quietly amassed a tidy nest egg. As Andy walked through down the hall, his unbuttoned lab coat fluttered around his thick thighs. His quads rubbed against one another in his slacks, the powerful muscles of his thighs making the fabric rustle. He looked down slightly as he pulled his card key out of his pocket, trying to look over his pecs towards his hand. Carefully, he pulled the plastic card from his pocket, smiling at the way that his legs had made the card warp slightly. With a swipe he pushed the door open. The brilliant white of the lab poured into his eyes as he walked in. He blinked at the overall brightness as his eyes adjusted to the sterile room. Chrome fixtures glittered on the tables and under the chemical hoods that lined the walls. It was totally devoid of all personal character. Professor Luthers, Andy’s biology advisor in college, had encouraged putting one’s own spice on their workspace by putting up pictures or even naming the lab equipment. The man called the centrifuge ‘Shirley Temple’ because of the way it tap-danced across the counter without its little rubber feet, for god’s sake. Andy could almost hear the professor whistling “Animal Crackers in my soup…” But Dr. Chapin, the lab manager here, was a different story. He had split his life into little compartments, quarantining the various aspects of his person into boxes. Everyone here was expected to do the same. Lab life was meant to be neat, tidy, organized. There was no room for humor here. Andy smiled as his eyes adjusted and zeroed in on the only other person in the lab, an elderly man by the name of Lewis Branson who had run their lab section for the past five years. “Oh… Hullo, Andrew. Good to see you today. I wasn’t sure our shifts would line up ever again.” The gray-haired doctor at the counter looked at him and smiled benignly. Andy gave a slightly forced grin. “Hello there, Dr. Branson. Always a pleasure. I’ve recently returned to the morning shift after working afternoons while my partner was doing the same” Andy twiddled his hands a little. “We try to line up our schedules to spend as much time as possible together.” The ancient scientist was the only one in the entire facility that called him ‘Andrew,’ and it slightly irked him. Dr. Branson knew there was also a young lady here that went by the name ‘Andi,’ and somehow the nickname ‘Andy with a y’ didn’t quite stick in his octogenarian head. Being called Andrew reminded him too much of his rich bitch of a mother. Andy could almost see her sniff as she said “Nicknames are unbecoming of a person of your social standing, dear. It’s so terribly middle class.” Well, once he had finished college on her dime, he cut her off and never saw her again. He liked being pretty and rich, but he didn’t fancy being a part of his mother’s collection. He would not be a bauble on the shelf. Thank goodness Danny gave him the life to which he had grown accustomed. And then some. “What are you working on today, sir?” “Well, I believe I may have finally made a breakthrough in the anxiety case…” He held up a vial of liquid that was somehow a lurid pink that even Pepto Bismol couldn’t hope to imitate. “You know I’ve been working on helping people with crippling anxiety correct their brain chemistry so that they can more fully participate in society, yes? I figured that if I can use this to turn half of the four f’s off, and the other half on…” The old man shrugged. “The four f’s? I thought there were only three.” “Quite… fight, flight, or freeze. But we all know the fourth.” The old man was suddenly quite shifty. He looked like a boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Andy had never known him to be naughty. “Fuuuornication. Fornication.” Andy flashed a winning smile at the doctor, thoroughly amused. “So, this flips off those two switches then.” “Oh yes! Those get turned off and allow the patient to have more fun, loosen up. Not be rolled over by others.” The doctor put the vial back in the small refrigerator, locking it. “Maybe even help them be a little more assertive. We just have to be careful. I’m not entirely sure what it’ll do to a healthy brain yet.” Dr. Branson turned and found himself face to face with Andy’s chest. “Oh… um… you’re a little close there, Andrew.” Andy licked his lips and gave his hard chest a gentle pop in the doctor’s face, keeping his attention focused right on him. It was easy to reach around and slide the coin into the latch to prevent the fridge from sealing completely. “Have you worked out a dosage yet, doctor?” Andy gave his winningest smile, knowing that the doctor was one of those he could easily push around using just his looks and charm. Andy’s brilliant white teeth glittered, reflected in the doctor’s doe eyes. Branson was asexual for all he knew, but he could still be distracted and plied with the right moves. With something as simple as putting his ample chest close to the doctor’s face, Andy managed to fluster his coworker to the point of nearly being a drooling idiot. He grinned. He had that effect on most men. Danny was the only one that seemed capable of resisting his charm. Andy had made sure that everything about his body was sculpted perfection, even before Danny’s money. He pushed his arms together slightly, pushing his pecs forward and making the ample mounds rise and harden. The topmost button, always so loose these days, popped open with ease and revealed another two inches of meaty pec cleavage along with his clean-shaven chest. His chest looked almost grainy with the gooseflesh on it from the chill environment of the lab. The mint green plaid of his shirt bulged out; squares forced to curve by the might of his chest. Andy’s biceps quivered slightly in his tight sleeves as they rose closer to their twenty-one-inch peaked height. He tensed his entire upper body, almost growling with pleasure and intrigue. “I would love to know how you calculate your dosages for trials. I’m always looking for new methods that are healthier for our clients and subjects.” “Well… I… generally do about two milligrams per kilo of bodyweight. I would need a 100mg dose once a day. So, someone like you…” The doctor gulped. “Would probably need about 250mg to 290mg per day.” He gulped again. “And someone bigger than me? Say around…” “It doesn’t matter…” The doctor slipped away. “Two milligrams per kilogram is about what you’ll need.” Andy smiled. Branson hadn’t noticed that the fridge didn’t fully latch. That pink stuff was going to be in his lunchbox this afternoon. He just knew it. As Branson turned away, Andy licked his lips. If it could make someone with anxiety more assertive, then what would it do to him? * * * The car horn honked as Andy pressed the button on the key fob. He had shucked his lab coat in favor of his deerskin leather jacket. The fluffy wool of the collar and cuffs kept him nice and warm in the crisp November air. He loved the way the faun color accentuated his features perfectly. His gaze was opaqued by a pair of mirrored aviator shades that only enhanced his lantern jaw and the perfectly kept stubble. His hair shook a little in the wind, the brilliant blond shimmering as his Tesla pulled up to where he stood. Andy slipped into the driver’s seat and placed his lunchbox on the chair next to him. He made sure to turn the air conditioner down as much as possible, keeping the entire vehicle frigid. Andy gave a little smirk, thinking about the pink tube in his lunchbox. Branson was so easy to distract. One or two pops with his pecs and Andy had been able to pop the latch on the fridge. His smirk turned into a full-on grin as he sped out of the parking lot. His prodigious manhood gave a light twitch in his pants, slowly hardening as he thought about the powerful hands that Dan had made him build, glad he had been able to give the lightest of squeezes on the latch and snap it. Andy gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and watched as his forearms rippled. He licked his lips. Andy was hot. He knew it. His head just barely brushed the roof of his car thanks to his six-foot six height. His thick, 275-pound body filled the space between the steering wheel and the seat. His pecs heaved as the car slowly made its way through the streets and began to drive itself to the highway. He relaxed a little as he took the ramp onto the interstate that would take him home. With a quick twist, he turned on the radio and rock music blared through the speakers. He reached over and grabbed his lunchbox, opening it up and pulling out one of the neon pink vials. He hadn’t noticed inside, but the liquid had an almost crystalline translucence that made it glitter like a pink diamond. Turning it, he saw the potion glimmer, slipping thickly against the glass of the vial. “It’s now or never, I suppose.” With a quick motion, he tipped the contents of the vial down his throat. The taste was… neon. There was not any other way to describe it. It was like cracking open a glowstick and chugging the contents. He could swear that he could see the potion creeping down his throat and into his stomach. His belly grumbled as the potion hit. “Oh god yes… that feels good.” With a quick zip, he closed up the lunch box. “I can’t wait to slip Dan his…” What he had not accounted for was that the 300mL vial was intended to be a concentrate, something to be mixed into fillers to dilute it to the proper dosage. Instead of the 250mg dose he thought he was taking, he had taken almost four full doses. The liquid burned through his veins, surging as his heart pounded in his thick chest. He flicked on the radio, tuning it to one of the local stations. He gave a little cheer as one of his favorite songs came over the speakers. Turning it up until the windows vibrated, he sang along. “OW! He’s a brick… house! He’s mighty-mighty, just lettin’ it all hang out… He’s a brick… house! That boy is stacked and that’s a fact, ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back!” Of course, he had to update the Commodores lyrics a bit to suit his own sensibilities. There was no real way to explain how the twenty-nine-year-old had come to have a favorite song from the nineties. Perhaps it had happened in high school, on those morning rides to school with his dad before he had been able to drive himself. Maybe that class on music appreciation where the professor had shown the video in class and then shown a video of drag queens and beautiful women walking and dancing to the song. The cars speakers shifted as the song ended, the sound of a ring coming over them. The marimba ring echoed as he turned the audio down to a more appropriate level for speaking. With a wicked grin, he pressed the button to answer the call. “Hello, sir. How was your day on the trading floor?” Andy smiled. Dan worked erratic hours from home, meeting with clients all over the world and divesting them of their shares in multi-million-dollar companies. He was a shrewd trader. Somehow, he always knew which deals would pay off the best and would request to be paid in stock rather than in cash if his gut told him a company would do well. He had ridden the market’s bubbles all the way until they had burst and had quietly built a fortune to rival titans like Zuckerberg and Bezos. “Mmm… I like that, baby. The first thing you do is ask me how I’m doing. Didn’t even consider yourself.” “Well… I know I had a good day, babe. So, I gueeeess I can ask about yours.” He giggled, elongating his ‘guess’ with slight sarcasm. Andy licked his lips, thinking about how that would affect him once he got home. The minute long pause was palpable, swelling up like a balloon in his Tesla until it took up all the air. He could swear that he could hear the windows cracking. Andy shifted his feet uncomfortably, feeling the weight of the silence pressing on him. His leather shoes creaked as his toes flexed. “Ahhh… are you feeling a little spicy today? Let’s see if I can’t get that out of you when you get home. I don’t think you need to have an attitude.” “I think I’ve earned the right to be a little spicy, Danny. I had a really awesome day. So, I think I get to be a little bit bratty. You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” “Danny? Not ‘sir’? Not ‘daddy’? Not even ‘Dan’?” Dan chuckled on the other end of the phone. “You’re cruising for a bruising, acting like a brat like that. I think we’re going to have to take away a few privileges.” “Ahh… If you think I need to be punished, Danny, so be it… But I think that you’ll really like what I bring home. I managed to sneak a little something from the lab for us.” The little act of defiance was electric, coursing through his veins. Andy knew that Danny didn’t like when his power was challenged. He grunted and adjusted his collar, feeling the open buttons tighten ever so slightly. He didn’t know it yet, but the thrill… the adrenaline from disobedience… it was doing much more than dance through his brain like Christmas lights. His thick pecs, already swollen from hours spent in the gym, had begun to swell. The round mounds of flesh thickened as power trickled into them. The tiniest bead of sweat began to slip down his neck into the deepening cleavage. His neck cracked a bit and started to swell outwards, corded muscle bulging under the skin. Andy’s delts rippled and swelled out, his shoulders pulling wider as he bit his lower lip. His khaki pants complained as his quads flexed and swelled outwards, pushing the legs tighter. His pant cuffs rose a fraction of an inch as his calves bulged out. His feet ached as his shoes reshaped around his swelling toes. His hair crept closer to the ceiling of the Tesla as his thick glutes swelled up, pushing him higher in the seat. The slight exertion made his cock throb in his slacks. But, no matter how erotic, it was brief. It was a spasm, so he didn’t fully notice. He just felt the need to adjust himself. “Well then, little one…” Andy shivered and practically melted at the growl from his lover. Dan was the only man he knew that had a deeper voice than his own. He swore he could hear the crystals in the library chandelier rattling. “…you might find that you have a fair bit to make up for once you get home if your news isn’t to my liking. Trading today did not go as well as I had hoped.” Dan sighed. “I only managed to make another fifty million today. I was hoping to get a certain deal with EnerTech to go through… but one of the old fogeys on the board wasn’t willing to sell his shares in the company. I only netted forty five percent for my client today, but I’ll be hitting it again tomorrow. He wants majority ownership before the end of the week, and it is a trillion-dollar company. If I land this deal, we’ll be set for life. I also snapped up majority ownership of a supplement company that I’m planning to sell off to the online supplement families… just a temporary acquisition.” Andy could hear his lover’s stress bubbling under the surface. The man had had a long day. He licked his lips, burning with desire. Dan would hopefully be having an even longer evening that led into the wee hours of the morning if he had his way. “I’ll see you soon. I expect you to come home, do your workout, then make me something just as delicious as you are to help make my bitter day sweet. I expect you to bring it to my office at 6:30, as I finish up my trading day.” There was an almost perfunctory click as Dan put the phone down, hanging up. Andy screamed with delight. His blood bubbled as he thought of how he was pushing his dom’s buttons. He was already breathing hard with anticipation. He bit his lower lip and rubbed his crotch, a low moan slipping out. He couldn’t wait to poke the bear… hoping the bear would poke him right back. He took control of the car, pulling up to the gate that led to their shared estate. He pressed the remote on his keys and the heavy motorized gate swung open, iron bars creaking as the motor groaned. He drove in, car slipping down the oak lined driveway like a silver hind unknowingly fleeing into a cougar’s claws. Constructive criticism always welcome!

Have been working on this for a while. Enjoy! Chapter 1 “Thank you for a wonderful last day class, congratulations! I’ll see you at graduation.” My AP Calc 2 professor Stevenson exclaimed to me and my class s the bell rang. I walked out the door, a big smile on my face. High school was finally over, after four long years. I could finally go to Stanford and escape this boring, small town. I was going to move to California and get into the program for Computer Science and get an awesome degree. My name is Dan Blackwood by the way. I’m 18 and I live outside of Chicago with my parents Lisa and Gary. My older brother Joey lives in Chicago and is a college football player. We’re all really proud of him. I was always the nerdy brother, and at 5’3, the runt of the family. My mom is 5’3”, and my dad is 5’8”. Joey is 6’2 and a star quarterback. My parents always supported him, but I could tell they were worried about me. They never pressured me to change who I was though, which I was grateful for. I was happy. I was always a nerd. I was never that interested in sports, I was into computers. I was pretty much ready to leave for college, all I needed to do was pack the rest of my stuff and then get the rest shipped. I was so excited to start a new life. I came out of the closet when I was 14, and although my parents and brother were completely fine with it, I always felt a little different. My height hindered my dating life and it was something i was hoping would change with the move. Tonight I was forcing my friends to go to a college volleyball game to see a crush of mine. - “Dan why are we going to a college volleyball game?” Ryan asked me as he drove us to the arena. Ryan and I have been friends since 3rd grade. In middle school, he shot up in height to his current height of 6’5”. We always looked silly, him being a head taller than me. He had curly blond hair and the most angelic face. Obviously i was in love with him for a long time, but he’s straight. He has a girlfriend named Rachel who he met last year. He’s now like a second brother. Rachel chimed in, "Yeah what gives? Not that I don't love seeing hot guys in tiny shorts haha." I blushed, "Well there's a guy on the team who's really hot and I want to support him." Ryan and Rachel shared a look and laughed. "Ooooh you have a crush!" Rachel said excitedly. I blushed again. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." We parked the car and headed into the stadium. It was packed. We found our seats and settled in. The game started. Noah was playing well. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Noah Martinez was 6 foot 8. He was ripped. His muscles were bulging. My cock got hard. I could feel my balls throbbing. I was so horny. I loved it. I watched as Noah ran up and down the court. He jumped high and spiked the ball over the net. I couldn't stop staring at him. My cock was rock hard. I looked over at Ryan and Rachel. They were both smiling. I blushed again. The team won. As we walked out we walked by Noah. I only came up to his muscular chest. He didn’t see me but it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Ryan and Rachel were still laughing at me. I blushed. "Shut up," I said. We drove home. As Ryan dropped me off, he mentioned they might go to a party tonight and invited me to join. “I’ll let you guys know!” - It was 11pm and my parents had gone to bed, I had been playing video games on the PS5. I turned the PS5 off and was about to go upstairs when I heard my phone buzz. It was a text from Ryan. Ryan: You should come to the party with us. Dan: I would, but it's kind of late. Ryan: It's now summer and we're having fun. Dan: I'll think about it. Ryan: Dude, come on. Dan: Alright, alright. I got my car keys and left the house, and headed for Ryan's house. The drive is not far, but there are some dangerous intersections that I hate driving through. It was a warm summer night and the stars were shining brightly. I put on the radio and rolled down the window. I was about to turn a corner when a car ran a red light and hit the driver's side of my car. My body flew forward and hit the steering wheel hard. My car launched in the air, flipping for what felt like minutes. Then everything went black. - When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My mom and dad were at the foot of my bed. They looked at me with relieved expressions. I blinked and looked around, my eyes were adjusting to the light. My dad started to speak. "Oh thank god you're okay. We thought we lost you." My mom chimed in. "Your arm is broken, and your head suffered some serious trauma. We're glad you're alive." I smiled weakly at them. "Yeah, me too." My parents left the room so the doctor could examine me. He showed me the X-ray of my broken arm. The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. After the doctor left, I sat up in bed. I was trying to process what had just happened. I didn't remember the car accident, or the ride to the hospital. My mom came back in the room. "How are you feeling, honey?" “A little rough, but I’m alive so I’m thankful.” I was allowed to leave the hospital after a day because my wounds weren’t as bad as the doctors thought. My mom and dad took me home, where Joey was waiting for us. Joey looked concerned. "Dan, how are you?" "I'm fine. The doctors said I have a concussion and my arm is broken." - I went to sleep in my bed. Graduation was in a week and I hoped my broken arm wasn’t going to look dumb. I was dreaming that I was in a field and there were butterflies flying all around me. I felt my body growing. I looked down at my hands and they were bigger. I looked down at my arms and they were bulging with muscle. My chest was getting wider. My legs were growing too. My clothes started to rip and tear. My jeans were stretching to their limit. I felt my feet pushing through the ends of my shoes. I was growing. And then I woke up. I jumped out of bed, my heart pounding. What was that? Was that a dream or a nightmare? I was scared. Also my broken arm didn’t hurt anymore. Weird. Regardless, my cock had woken up and I needed to take care of it. Although my small stature, I was thankful for the gift of a fairly big cock. At 5’3, I was packing a solid 7 inch cock. I reached down and grabbed it, and began stroking myself slowly. I closed my eyes and thought about the dream, about my body growing. I thought about being able to look down at people, and tower over them. I pictured myself towering over Noah Martinez and making him take my cock. I imagined his mouth wrapped around my cock, his eyes looking up at me. I pumped my hand faster, and I could feel my orgasm building. I closed my eyes and let out a low groan as I came all over my chest. I felt the cum on my chest and stomach. Then I heard a ripping sound. My eyes snapped open. My jeans had ripped at the seams. My boxers were shredded. My shirt was torn to pieces. My cast had been ripped off of my arm. My heart was pounding. I was naked. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was growing. I ran over to my full length mirror and looked at myself. I was getting taller, and bigger. My legs were getting longer, and my feet were growing. My arms were bulging with muscles. My chest was expanding.My ass was growing too. My skin was stretching to accommodate my growing body. My cock was growing too. I couldn't believe how huge it was. i took a step forward and fainted. - I opened my eyes to my big brother look down at me. I was laying on the floor. "Dan? Are you okay?" He asked. "What happened? Why am I naked?" "I don't know. Your clothes were ripped to shreds." I got up and walked over to the mirror. Joey was still taller than me, but not by much. I looked at my body in the mirror. My arms were huge, my chest was broad, and my ass was round. My cock was long and thick. I felt the power in my body. “I’m gonna grab you some clothes” Joey said, and he walked out of the room. I went downstairs to the kitchen and got a drink of water. I was still in shock. What had just happened? Why did my body change?

Here's the third instalment of my growing dad story. This will be the final part of the growth act. If i continue writing more in the future, it will be about living with their newfound size rather than growing them bigger. I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think in the comments. Part One and Two Like Father, Like Son Part Three "Do you know where I can get more of that stuff?" Darren grinned to himself and flexed his pecs, working on tensing the muscles one at a time. Beside him Darren's father Lawrence struggled to control the steering wheel around his own chest. His Dad's biceps fought for space against his pecs, and his huge hands had already gripped and distorted the plastic wheel. The two men had struggled to fit inside his fathers beat up pickup, but it had been an enjoyable struggle, and Darren felt his cock throb in his tight sweatpants as his fathers massive muscular arm tensed and rubbed against his own. Both men had one arm hanging out a window to make more room within the cab, but they were so wide they couldn't avoid pressing against one another. Not that they would want to. When his father had asked for more of the chemicals that had turned them into muscle gods, his cock had shot back to full hardness, throbbing between his massive pecs. This had in turn gotten his father hard again, and the two of them has been 'forced' to rub their enormous cocks against each other, flexing their new manly pecs together until both had blasted another load across their kitchen ceiling. Darren and his father's libidos were so active they had struggled to control themselves long enough to go upstairs and find some sort of clothing that fit. The results of that search had been laughable. Darren had stuffed his thick quads and enormous cock into a pair of formerly baggy sweatpants. A once loose tank top was now stretched across his broad chest and rode up enough to expose the lower third of his rock hard stomach. His father hadn't managed much better, an old pair of basketball shorts now clinging to his thighs and ass, barely long enough to cover the length of his extraordinary cock and definitely not enough to support or obscure his huge cantaloupe sized nuts. Lawrence had tried pulling on several shirts, and both father and son had been turned on watching Lawrence's enormous upper body shred through and tear each garment like tissue paper. In the end his father had opted to go shirtless. This was fine with Darren as it meant he had an unobscured view of his father's hugely swollen chest muscles while they bounced and quivered with his Dad's every motion. The two hairy masses made driving difficult, but his fathers grin suggested to Darren that Lawrence didn't mind. The way his father had flexed his massive bicep at another car when stopped at a red light, leering and laughing at the shocked men next to them, told Darren his Dad was fully in love with his new body. It was late by the time they left the house, and as they approached the University campus the sun had set. Darren was glad as it meant they would attract less attention when they made their way into the science building. He wasn't sure how to explain the presence of two eight foot tall muscle gods on campus, and would rather wait until they were even Bigger before trying. "Take the next left Dad, and then we can park right there," said Darren, pointing to an empty parking lot next to the chemistry building. Or trying to point, his own bulk and his father's meaning he mostly flexed his bicep against his Dad's tricep while barely lifting his forearm. His Dad smirked and reached down to rub Darren's thigh, making his cock jump and throb in his sweats in response. His Dad laughed and gave Darren's cock a quick squeeze as well as he brought the pickup to a halt. Exiting the vehicle proved just as difficult as entering, and Darren bent the door nearly off it's hinges in the attempt. He was shocked when the door refused to close and he saw the imprints of his fingers on the door panel. Darren was distracted by cursing from the drivers side, arriving just in time to see the door fly fully off it's hinges and land with a crash on the asphalt. One massive quad and thick calf emerged, huge bare foot thudding solidly on the pavement. Neither massive man had fit into shoes, and Darren found himself strangely turned on. They were both so Big! Another string of curses mixed with deep laughter drew Darren's attention, and he stepped in to help his father. Grabbing one arm, he helped pull his Dad free of the truck, hearing the steering column crunch and twist. The truck sprung upward as his Dad exited, and Darren had to wonder just how much the two of them weighed now. As his father stood up and stretched his neck and arms, he spoke. "Damn son, they really don't build them like the used to huh?" He patted the truck roof with one meaty hand, then frowned as he noticed the bits of metal and plastic caught in his chest hair. Darren helped Lawrence brush them from his furry pelt, then spent a few moments caressing and exploring his Dad's huge fuzzy chest with his hands. Lawrence then pulled Darren in for a swift kiss, chests pressed tightly together. Darren felt his Dad's cock and ball throb in response to his own, before his Dad pushed him away. "Enough of that for now kid, save it for when we're Growing again," his Dad growled, eyes gleaming with desire. Darren mock saluted his father, bicep and forearm making it difficult. "Yes sir, lead the way," he joked. "Darren, this is your school. I don't know where we're going. I can barely see over my pecs anyway." Lawrence puffed up his hairy chest proudly as he spoke. Darren had to admit it was more difficult to adjust to his new size than he expected. As both he and his Dad strutted towards the science building, he felt his thighs rubbing together, had to adjust his stride and swing his legs wide around one another. His large nuts and impossibly huge cock also swayed and bounced distractingly in his sweatpants, and he enjoyed every jolt of his heavy testicles in his sack. His father next to him was the biggest distraction of all, a walking mountain of muscle that flexed and bounced with his every stride. He was so distracted by his fathers mass that he walked right into the doors, thumping against them and cracking the glass with his chest. Darren blushed and tried to fish in his small pockets with his giant hand for his keycard, while his father roared with laughter and congratulated him for growing up into a real man. Darren scanned his card and the two of them ducked and lumbered awkwardly through the entry. Looking at the small card in his palm, Darren shrugged and tucked it between his pecs for easier access compared to his skintight pockets. The chemistry building was empty at this hour. Students were allowed to work late, but on a Friday night there was no one to be seen. The automatic lights lit up ahead of them, and dimmed again behind them. The thumping of their bare feet and the subtle creaking and groaning of their muscles provided an organic counterpoint to the low electric hum and mechanical background noises of the building. "We need to get to the third floor," Darren said in a low voice. He felt himself more on edge now, anxious at the thought of being discovered sneaking in. "Is there an elevator nearby then?" His Dad also spoke in a subdued voice. Looking over, Darren almost laughed. They were both slightly hunched, instinctively trying to make themselves smaller to attract less attention. A completely ridiculous and pointless endeavour for the two muscular titans. Darren forced himself to stand up straighter and relax his shoulders. He watched his father do the same. "I don't think we're going to fit in the elevator Dad. Plus I don't think it's rated for our weight!" Darren winked and bounced his chest suggestively. "Alright Mr. Massive, let's take the stairs. Lead the way." Darren set out, down one corridor and up a second. The main stairs on the first floor were broad and decorative, giving the two men plenty of room to make their way up. Darren's new stride meant he took the steps three at a time comfortably. A broad hand on his ass told him his father appreciated the view, and Darren made sure to flex his powerful globes with every step. The hand on his ass squeezed in appreciation, and Darren swallowed a deep chuckle. The second floor hallways were narrower and darker, banks of lockers lining the walls. Darren lead the way again, his father a warm presence looming behind him. The floors farther up were restricted, and Darren had to swipe his tiny keycard to let them access the much smaller concrete stairwell. The metal steps clanged dully under their feet, the enclosed stairwell booming with the echoes of their passage. Darren felt the hair on his neck rise, certain somebody would notice the noise and that they'd be discovered. He scanned his keycard again at the third floor and both massive men ducked through the door, relieved to be in a quieter hallway again. They stood in an island of light, massive muscles gleaming from anxious sweat. Darren felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder and his Dad's lips near his ear. "Alright son, where to from here?" Lawrence whispered. Darren had to clear his throat and swallow before whispering his reply. "Two hallways over and three more down. We're looking for room 313." Both men set out, trying to walk quietly. Darren found he required a surprising amount of effort to control the strike of his heel. His mass was so immense now, it just felt natural to be loud. The rubbing of his muscles was also a constant distraction, his cock in his sweats demanding more attention due to his increased libido. It was natural in his distracted state, with the sexy mass of his father behind him, that he almost missed the warning glow of lights approaching the hallway intersection ahead of them. A hissed breath behind him and a hand grasping his shoulder alerted him. Darren stopped, frozen, unsure what to do as lights switched on ahead and quiet footsteps came towards him. His Dad pulled him back, finger to his lips, and jerked his head towards the intersection behind them. The two men hustled as best they could, as quietly as they could, towards that perceived shelter. His Dad turned the corner just ahead of him, broad back barely out of sight when a voice behind Darren froze him in his tracks. "Hey! You! Are you supposed to be here?" Darren looked at his father in stunned panic. Lawrence looked uncertainly back. Then Darren watched a grin spread across his Dad's face. The older man straightened up and relaxed his shoulders. He gave Darren a reassuring look and a wink, puffing out his chest and gesturing Darren to turn back. He also tapped his chest, once, twice, three times, until Darren realized his father was indicating the keycard tucked between Darren's own pecs. Darren felt relief surge through his body, and his dad nodded encouragement. Then Lawrence turned and began to tiptoe his way down the corridor. The sight of his giant muscular Dad trying to be sneaky was so ridiculous Darren couldn't help letting out a quiet giggle. He stifled that a moment later as he heard footsteps stomping towards him from the other hall. "Hey, Buddy." The voice was insistent, but not yet rude. "This floor is restricted, I'm going to need to see your... ID... please..." The voice trailed off as Darren turned, standing up to his full eight foot height. He crossed thick rippling arms across his broad chest and smiled down at the security guard staring up at him in slack jawed awe. "Good evening little guy. What was that you were saying?" Darren forced himself to sound more confident than he was feeling. The butterflies in his stomach told him his confidence hadn't yet grown as big as his body. The security guard shook his head, obviously trying to collect himself, and just as obviously distracted by Darren's massive muscles. Darren decided to help the man out, and began to flex his pecs, slowly, one at a time, making the massive mounds swell up and tighten before relaxing and bouncing back down under his 'shirt'. "I, I uh, I need to see your ID. Please. These floors are uh, restricted to chemistry students only. Dangerous." The smaller man stood there, clearly not sure what else to say to the giant in front of him. Darren felt a second wave of relief, and relaxed his posture even more. He reached between his pecs and pulled out his keycard. "Sure thing big guy, no worries. You having a busy night?" Darren passed down the card, slick with his sweat, smirking as he noticed the security guards hand trembling as he took it. He looked for a moment at the card, then up in disbelief at Darren. Darren helpfully leaned forward, looming over the smaller man. "Sorry bud, I know it's hard to see my face sometimes over my chest." Darren flexed his chest muscles to prove the point. He looked down and winked at the security guard. The man was clearly in his late twenties, not much older than the students he policed, and he was obviously being turned on by Darren's body. "Y-you weren't kidding," stammered the security guard. "How come I haven't noticed YOU before. A guy your size should be famous! Are you really supposed to be here?" Darren let out a deep laugh, lifting one arm up to flex his bicep. He was beginning to enjoy the lusty look on the smaller mans face. "Yup, I'm just here to get a little chemistry homework done. It's easier to do without a bunch of people around, you know?" Darren wiggled his wrist, making the bicep dance. "What's your name by the way?" "Stan. Uh Stanley, and you're-" the security guard checked the card again. "Darren." "Yep that's me." Stan still seemed unsure and floundering. "You uh, you don't look as big in your picture." Darren bent down, getting closer to the smaller mans face, his huge chest in danger of knocking the guard back. "Yeah, they just zoomed in really close on my face. I think the photographer didn't like my chest being in the way." Stan reached out tentatively, almost touching Darren's chest, before catching himself and coughing. Blushing, the smaller man transferred Darren's keycard to that hand and held it back out to Darren. Darren grinned and gently grasped the security guards wrist. He helped guide Stan's hand to tuck the keycard back between his thick pectorals. The security guard blushed and gasped, and Darren fought to keep from grinning as he noticed the wet spot on Stan's pants. He stood back up and leaned against a locker, denting it with his elbow, and looked back down at Stan. "So do you work here very often? Will I be seeing you again?" Darren felt almost ashamed at how much he was affecting the poor little man. But he felt a tingling excitement instead. He lifted both arms up and gave the shorter man a huge double bicep flex, and flexed his cock in his sweatpants as well. Beads of sweat broke out on Stan's forehead, the wet spot in his pants growing darker. The security guard half hunched and gasped. "Y-yeah probably. But I, I should get back to m-my rounds. Don't w-want to keep you, from homework." Darren could see Stan's dick throbbing in his pants and took pity on the smaller man. "Well alright then Stan, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I'll see you in the gym sometime." Darren rested his hands on Stan's shoulders, gently moving him aside so Darren could slowly slide past the man, letting his prominent bulge 'accidentally' graze against Stan. Darren began to walk away and turned to wink back over his shoulder, seeing Stan bite his lip. He then heard footsteps rushing away in the direction of the nearest bathroom. Darren held his breath until he heard a door slam and then threw his head back to let out a deep laugh. The tension bled from his body, leaving him trembling slightly. It was going to take time adjusting to his new body, but he thought he was going to thoroughly enjoy doing so. Darren rushed down the hall, taking the remaining turns until at last he reached room 313. He ducked inside and closed the door behind him, turning to see his father at the far end of the classroom silhouetted by the light from the fridge. His father held a clear vial between his fingers as he turned to Darren and grinned. "Bottoms up son!" said Lawrence as he drained half the vial in a single swig. Darren stood frozen, watching his father, waiting for the growth he knew was about to occur. His father beamed, holding the vial loosely in one hand, looking down at himself and gently flexing his other forearm. Both of them waited in silence for nearly a minute before the disappointment set in. "Nothing is happening." "Dad did you feel anything?" Both men spoke at once. Darren's father looked chagrined as Darren made his way across the room. "What is it Darren? Did I grab the wrong stuff?" Darren bent down to peer into the cooler, seeing two more vials of clear liquid within the refrigerator. "No Dad, this is the right room, and those are the vials that were left over when I went home today. It should have worked. Can I see that?" Darren took the glass from his father and peered at the small label. "Do you remember which vial did what back at the house?" "How should I know son, you didn't label them remember? I think the pink one grew my muscles?" "Pink..." Darren said under his breath, looking at the vial. It took him another moment to realize the vial he held and the vials in the cooler were each clear liquid. "That's what's different Dad. The stuff we drank all had different colours. These are all still clear. But I don't know why." "Were they clear when you brought them home earlier? Did somebody change what was in here after you left?" Darren could hear the impatience and frustration in his fathers voice as Lawrence was denied the size he craved. "These are the same solutions I brought home with me earlier. They have to be kept cool, that's why I put them in our fridge." Darren frowned, then snapped his fingers as inspiration dawned. "Dad, they were supposed to stay cool! But they didn't, everything heated up when I was in the car driving home. That's why they're still clear, they're still cold!" Darren watched his Dad's face, saw disappointment give way to thoughtfulness, and then a full grin. Darren stepped aside as his father reached past him, grabbing the remaining two vials and the one still held in Darren's hand. "Alright son, we better find a way to make these hotter." Lawrence smirked as he carefully places first one, then the second tube from the fridge between his mammoth pecs. The huge hairy muscles easily held the vials in the crevasse between them, and Lawrence reached out to tuck the third one safely into Darren's own meaty chest. Then he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Darren's back, pulling him close. Darren immediately felt himself heating up from his father's proximity, and couldn't help letting out a low moan as his Dad pressed the stretched crotch of his basketball shorts against Darrens equally bloated junk in his sweat pants. "Looks like things are heating up already," said Lawrence, smiling and leaning in to kiss Darren. Darren kissed back, hungry for his fathers lips, grinding his cock against his fathers massive thighs. Darrens own arms wrapped around his fathers broad back, hands grasping and groping his father's heavy slabs of muscle. He broke the kiss and traced his tongue along the heavy muscles of his father's neck, tasting the salty sweat already glistening across Lawrence's body as the two titans groped and pressed against each other. His father's hands pulled his face downwards, pressing Darrens face against his father's bloated chest. Darren obliged him and licked the huge hairy globes of beef, groaning as his father moaned above him. Already in the dim light through the windows Darren could see the colours of the liquids in the vials changing, and he could feel the warmth of his body radiating from his own chest. Both men were so involved in their admiration for the others body, neither heard the classroom door open and close. Both let out a yelp as the lights flicked on, dazzling eyes that had grown used to the dimness. "Is somebody in here? I didn't expect- Oh my God!" exclaimed an unfamiliar voice. Darren stepped back from his father, morbidly aware of his cock tenting his sweatpants, noticing his father's own huge erection emerging from the bottom of Lawrence's tight basketball shorts. He turned from his father's huge hairy form and looked towards the door. There he saw his Chemistry professor, Mr. Jones, standing at the light switch, staring in awe and confusion at the two men in his classroom. 'Two Giants' corrected Darren in his own mind. He tried to calm himself, tried to think past the rapid beating of his heart and the answering throbbing in his sweats. The three men were frozen in tableau for a moment more, before Mr. Jones stepped away from the wall, walking slowly towards Darren and his father. "Darren? Is that you? I-it can't be? What on earth happened to you?" Mr. Jones transferred his gaze to Darren's father, eyes widening somehow even more as he took in the heavily furred, obscenely muscled torso of Lawrence, eye's flicking down and then back up. Darren watched Mr Jones' face flush as he swallowed and tried not to stare at Darren's fathers cock. "Darren! What is happening here. I demand an explanation!" "Mr. Jones, I can explain. You see I, we-" "Darren," interjected Lawrence smoothly. "Is this one of your instructors? Aren't you going to introduce him to your old man?" Darren turned in surprise, giving his father a quick glance, returning the nod he received. "Yeah, sorry Dad, of course. Mr. Jones, I don't think you've met my Dad before have you? This is Lawrence. Dad, this is my chemistry professor, Mr. Jones." Darren stepped back at a loss as his father stepped forward to shake hands with Mr. Jones as if they were meeting by chance on a stroll in the park. Mr. Jones looked no less shocked and bewildered, but the ritual pleasantries were a lifeline he could cling to for a sense of normalcy. Mr. Jones stuck out his hand only for Lawrence's massive mitt to completely engulf his hand and wrist in a gentle grasp. "Nice to meet you Mr. Jones. My son here has told me about you, says he really enjoys your classes. Never mentioned you were so handsome though. What brings you in so late?" Darren stared in surprise at his Dad, flabbergasted by how calm he was being. Darren thought he must be trying to flatter the smaller man, but from the look on Lawrence's face Darren suspect his Dad really did find Mr. Jones to be handsome. "Ah, um, nice to meet you Lawrence. I'm H-Harold. Harry." Darren watched Mr. Jones look between himself and his father, and wondered just how much of their activities Mr. Jones had witnessed. Judging by the bulge in his pants, he wasn't turned off by the sight. "Harry? Really? Bit of an ironic name isn't it? You make bald work for you though, and I like the moustache." Darren's Dad continued to hold Mr. Jones' hand, smiling down as the smaller man grew more flustered. Now that he really paid attention, Darren supposed that Harry Jones really WAS a handsome man. He just hadn't considered being interested in an older man before, until... well, a couple hours ago. Mr. Jones pulled his hand free of Lawrence's grip, and looked towards Darren again. "Darren! What is going on here! What happened to you? How did you get so, so," Mr. Jones floundered. "So huge! Why are you here and dressed like..." Mr Jones gestured helplessly up and down at Darren and his Dad. He even seemed to sigh in exasperation as he noticed both men were barefoot in a chemistry lab. "Mr Jones, I can explain. It's kind of a weird story, but..." "Darren, why not stop confusing your teacher, and just Show him what happened instead?" Darren blinked and looked at his father in surprise. Lawrence just grinned at him, and carefully pulled a glass container of faintly blue liquid from between his pecs. Harry looked flummoxed and slightly turned on as he watched the vial emerge from between two enormous pillows of muscle. "My son," Lawrence said proudly, "created the greatest experiment in the world today. I was his first test subject." His father flicked the stopper from the vial with his thumb and slowly lifted the glass, flexing his huge arm for show as he took a small sip of liquid. He sighed happily, and Darren felt his cock throb in excitement, the familiar sensation of butterflies filling his stomach again. He looked down at his teacher and laughed, rubbing the back of his head, flexing his own bicep as he tried to enjoy having an audience. "Sorry Mr. Jones, I guess I'm a better scientist than I thought. You might deserve some of the credit though." Whatever Harry Jones was going to say in reply was lost, as both he and Darren turned at a loud groan from Darren's Dad. As they watched, Lawrence lifted both arms up, pointing and posing like a classical statue. His huge muscles flexed, seeming to grow larger. Darren heard a gasp from Mr. Jones as his father began to inch slowly upwards, body creaking and groaning as he put on height and weight. His dad switched poses twice more, ending with a most muscular as his growth topped out at about six inches. Darren found himself having to look up slightly again at his newly eight foot six inch tall father. He grinned up at Lawrence. "Looks like your second puberty isn't quite over yet Old Man," joked Darren. "Hey, watch who you're calling old, shorty. Or your Dad will send you to bed with no supper." Lawrence winked down at Darren and shook the vial of blue liquid meaningfully. He then transferred his gaze to the awe struck shorter man before him. Darren stepped out of the way as his father knelt down in front of Mr. Jones. "So what do you think Harry? Do you approve of my sons genius?" Lawrence winked and flexed one massive bicep in Mr. Jones face. "Why don't you give it a feel?" Darren grinned as he watched his entranced teacher reach out and rub one hand tentatively over his fathers arm. A big flex from Lawrence encouraged the smaller man to touch and feel the tricep and forearm, even trying to wrap his small arms around Lawrences bulging muscles. "My god, I must be dreaming," breathed Mr Jones. "None of this can be real. You- You're huge! And hulking and handsome and, and..." words failed the smaller man, and Darrens father winked. "Well thanks Harry, I think you're pretty handsome yourself. By any chance has a cute little man like you ever dreamed of being a Big Man like me before?" Lawrence smiled, and Darren felt his stomach do flips of excitement. "W-what? What do you mean, me? I- I couldn't. None of this makes sense, we don't know what's happened, we don't know if you're safe or, or, or any of a hundred other things." Mr. Jones was looking up at Darrens father in both confusion and lust. Darren saw his knees wobbling and stooped to try to catch him, but Lawrence was there first, picking the smaller man up and setting him on a long counter. Darren's father then reached out and casually plucked the vial of liquid from between Darrens pecs, giving his son a wink and knowing nod before turning back to Mr. Jones. "Harry, you're over thinking this. The question is simple. Do you want to be big like me?" Lawrence said, bouncing his pecs in the smaller mans face. "Because if you do, you just have to drink this." Lawrence held up the half empty vial of green liquid, wrapping Mr. Jones' hand around it, helping him hold it steady. Darren watched Mr. Jones swallow and close his eyes, breathing deeply. Taking a deep breath of his own Darren realized how musky and warm the lab classroom had become, the scent of him and his father's huge bodies and throbbing erections permeating the space. He found it intoxicating and knew it must be having an even stronger effect on his chemistry professor. Mr. Jones seemed to come to a decision, opening his eyes and looking up at Lawrence's smiling face. He held the vial to his lips, hesitating. Darren's father reached out with one finger and gently tipped the glass vial up, green fluid flowing into Mr. Jones mouth. The smaller man drank the whole vial, not spilling a single drop. He then sat on the countertop, breathing deeply, and gave Lawrence a worried look. "What did I just- ungh." Mr. Jones bent forward, holding his stomach for a moment. He slowly straightened back up, a weak grin on his face. "Sorry about that, I almost believed you for a moment..." said Mr. Jones, trailing off as his eyes became unfocused. Darren moved up next to his father, eager to watch the growth process again. His father slung one heavy arm across Darren's broad shoulders, the other still supporting Mr. Jones. 'Harry' thought Darren. 'I think I'm going to have to get used to calling him Harry.' Harry meanwhile was beginning to sweat, eyes still unfocussed. He let out a low moan, leaning back against Lawrences supporting hand. Darren grinned eagerly as he watched the crotch of Harry's pants begin to swell and grow. The imprint of an impressive cock began to show through the fabric, two egg sized lumps developing below. Harry gave a sudden gasp, looking down in shock at his crotch, then back up at Darren's father. Lawrence smiled and gave Harry a nod, then gestured down at both his and Darrens own impossibly swollen junk. Darren just winked and reached out to pat Harry's shoulder in support, then reached down to pat the smaller mans rapidly swelling bulge. A soft groan emerged from Harry's lips, turning into a louder moan as the snake in his trousers extended down his pant leg, and the bulge of his testicles threatened the seams of his trousers. The swelling didn't stop, and soon a loud popping sound announced the surrender of Harry's zipper. Darren and his Dad both tensed in excitement as they watched two large nuts emerge from Harry's pants and roll onto the countertop. The rapidly swelling orbs grew from the size of oranges to grapefruits and beyond while the log in Harry's pants throbbed and flexed, swelling up thicker and harder. Finally the cock tore free of Harry's trousers and rose up to smack against the smaller mans chest. Harry's look of shock and excitement made Darren grin, and he looked to his father and grinned wider to see the hungry look on Lawrences face. Darren watched his father retrieve the blue vial from its pectoral prison. His father took another swig of the serum, then held the vial in front of of Harry's face. The smaller man eagerly tipped it back, nearly emptying the glass. He was prevented from doing so though when his own own throbbing erection knocked the vial from his hands. Darren caught the vial before it could be smashed, and gazed hungrily at his father and Harry. Lawrence had one huge hand at Harry's back to support him, while the other hand stroked the nearly four foot long erection the smaller man was sporting. Harry's cock had grown so hard it was in danger of hitting his face if Lawrence wasn't there to fend it off. Darren felt his own cock stretching out his sweatpants. The heat in the room grew more intense as all three men grew hard, breathed harder. Darrens father guided Harry's cock up and between his pecs, moaning with Harry as the massive log throbbed against Lawrences sensitive chest. Both men were beginning to stretch taller, and Darren enjoyed the contrast between his huge, hulking father, and the increasingly lanky limbs of Harry. Harry moaned and groaned as he fucked Lawrence's chest, and Lawrence let out a booming laugh as he hefted Harry's watermelon sized nuts with his larger and larger hands. Darren stepped back as his own cock tore free of his sweatpants, the fabric puddling around his ankles. He grabbed his cock as it throbbed against his chest, eyes glued to his father as the man grew past nine feet tall. Harry seated next to the counter couldn't be far behind. "Hey Dad, who do you think is taller?" "Fuck son, I don't know who's taller, but I know who's Bigger!" said Lawrence, rubbing Harry's throbbing cock. As if to prove the lie, Lawrence's basketball shorts chose that moment to tear around the swelling globes of Lawrences ass and the even larger melons of his nuts. His fathers gigantic cock swelled upward, rising in a graceful arc to thump against his chest next to Harry's. "Well I'm still bigger in most ways anyway. Maybe it's time to fix that," boomed Lawrence. Darren watched eagerly as his growing father pulled the increasingly small final vial from between his pecs. The big man fumbled with the stopper, fingers too big and clumsy to pull it free. Finally he used his teeth, swallowing a mouthful of pink liquid as he did so. Lawrence then pulled Harry to his feet. The two men were of equal height, but where Harry was slender Lawrence was built broader than a barn, and much more muscular. Darren watched his father pull Harry into a deep kiss, then pour the remainder of the pink solution down Harry's throat. As the two giants crested ten feet of height, Darren watched both their muscular bodies tremble and then FLEX. His fathers muscles swelled and bounced, fighting for space on his frame as the already prolific masses grew ever more impressive. Harry's muscles however Exploded onto his body. Huge heaving rolling masses of sinew and steely fibres rose up under his skin. The almost Fey skinniness vanished in moments as Harry morphed into a hulk to match Darrens father. Biceps grew from baseballs to bowling balls to basketballs into bloated beach balls of muscle. His triceps expanded on the back of his arm, rubbing against newly forming lats that forced his arms to higher and higher angles. Darren shifted position, the better to watch Harry's back expand into a broad "V" shaped taper. His narrow waist thickened, but the incredible growth of deltoids and traps more than compensated. Great rolling plains of muscle erupted from Harry's smooth back, the symmetrical foothills crisscrossed by great cables of sinew and thick pulsing veins delivering more power and more growth into the expanding hunk. Meanwhile Harry's ass rose up, becoming perky, then solid, then almost obscenely curved as the two globes bloated with lead heavy mass. Darren felt his cock throb and gush with cum as he watched Harry's ass expand, driven by need to press his own rod between those cheeks. He stepped up behind the giant man, wrapping arms around him, and pressed his own cock between those cheeks. His dick throbbed between his pecs, against Harry's back, and between Harry's huge ass cheeks. In response, Harry began to buck his own hips against Lawrence, his own moans growing deeper as he continued to grow broader. Darren felt the growing mans huge nuts swing between thickening thighs to slam back against his own orbs. Darren let out a wordless yell as his cock throbbed and shot load after load of sticky cum across Harry's growing back. His voice was joined by Harry's new deep voice, and the even DEEPER tones of Darren's Dad. Darren realized he had to look up to see the back of Harry's head now. The colossal muscles of his traps had swallowed his neck, expanding out towards impossibly broad shoulders. The muscle giant in front of of him was breathing extremely heavily. Darren looked up as a wet drop of something landed in his hair, then again onto his chest. The ceiling above the three men was coated in thick heavy cum. Darren also noticed the ceiling was much closer to Harry's head than his own. Staggering backward, Darren bumped the long counter with a crunching noise. He couldn't help laugh at how easily the stainless steel bent under his mass. The two looming studs in front of him turned at the sound, and Darren felt his jaw drop. Harry's back was broad and impossibly muscular and beautiful. The front of his torso however was a masterwork of bloated, powerful muscles, bouncing and throbbing as they fought each other for space. The thick veins pumping power across the masses of muscle were receding, settling down under the smooth skin. Harry's face had grown more rugged, his jawline even more pronounced, and his bald head gleamed under the bright lights, glistening with sweat that collected in his thick moustache and shimmered. Darren's Dad was a perfect contrast to the smooth hulk, a hirsute colossus of rippling perfection, thick beard and thick hair slicked with sweat and cum. The two men loomed over Darren, both of them ten feet tall, each one having to weight at least a ton. Darren felt his cock lurch to extreme hardness again, a response echoed in the other two studs as their cocks thumped against their powerful pecs, huge swollen testicles bouncing against their thighs. The two mature muscle giants grinned at each other and then down at Darren. "Hey son. What are you doing down there?" boomed Lawrence, voice even more resonant as it echoed from his chest. "Just admiring the view Dad. How's the new perspective?" "Pretty fucking great son." Lawrence lifted his arms up into the most enormous most muscular pose ever performed, huge chest forcing his arms apart as it swelled with mass. Next to him, Harry let out a shaky laugh, still learning how to move his thighs around each other, clearly still dizzy from his new libido. "Darren. Lawrence? Did that really happen? I have to be dreaming," spoke the newest member of their muscular family. "Not dreaming at all Harry," said Lawrence as he slung his arm across the new giants massive shoulders. "Could a dream do this?" he said, planting a kiss over Harry's lips while flexing both his massive biceps to either side of the giants head. Darren watched enviously as the two massive men embraced each other, grinding hips together, enormous muscles dancing, colossal balls swaying between their thighs. Darren bit his lip as his cock throbbed urgently again, wanting release as he beheld the monstrously muscled men before him. His hands flexed, and he became aware of a small glass vial still clutched in his palm. He held it up, realizing it still contained a single mouthful of blue liquid. Darren grinned. "Dad. Hey, Dad!" Unable to get the attention of the giants, Darren strode up to them, sliding his arms between their sticky torsos and with enormous effort prying the two horny muscle giants apart. Darren held up the glass vial to forestall their complaints, and Darren's Dad grinned down at him. "Ready to join your Old Man up here then short stud?" asked Lawrence. Darren smirked up at his dad, handing him the vial. "Nah Dad, I'm pretty happy with my new perspective. But I think yours could use a little more adjustment." Lawrence looked down, at a loss for words as Darren pressed the glass into his palm. Lawrence looked across at a beaming Harry, then down at his grinning son. "You sure boy? We don't know when we'll be able to make this stuff again, or even if. You sure you don't want to join us?" "Oh, I won't ever be leaving you Dad. But I'll be happier down here, and we both know you're going to be happier up there," said Darren, pointing at the ceiling a few scant inches above Lawrences head. "Well then, I won't ask again," smirked Lawrence. "Bottoms up!" The huge muscular man drained the last of the vial in a single swallow, tossing the glass aside with a small crash. He then reached out with two enormous arms, pulling Darren and Harry into a massive, crowded hug. All three men felt their cocks throb in anticipation, and they didn't have long to wait. Darren felt his Dad's bulk stretching upward again, enormous furry chest pressed against Darrens face. Harry's smooth bulk moved up behind him, giant cock and heavy balls rubbing against Darrens back and ass. Darren pressed his face against his fathers flexing pecs, feeling them stretch larger while he listened to his father moan and groan. A dull thump and the crack of ceiling tiles announced Lawrence rising to his new height of ten feet six inches. The giant muscle man bent his knees slightly, leaning forward, chest to chest with Darren to plant a long slow kiss on his son's lips. He then reached forward, pulling Harry's lips to his, crushing his son between titanic pecs, gargantuan cock throbbing against Darren's torso. Darren smiled and breathed deeply of his fathers musk, as his new muscular family closed around him. "I love you Dad." "And we love you" rumbled two deep voices.

Like Father, Like Son Part Two "So, you ready to grow up like your old man?" Darren blinked, once, twice, three times. His fathers grinning face, surmounting two enormous hairy pecs, swam in his vision. Lawrence picked up one glass container between two fingers and wiggled it in front of Darren. "Hey Darren. Earth to Darren here. You want to keep your old man waiting? I'm not getting any younger, but if you don't say something soon, I am going to start getting Bigger!" Lawrence laughed as Darren snapped out of his fugue. "Fuck yeah Dad! I want to be just like you, if not even bigger!" said Darren in an excited rush. He reached out again to grope his father's chest, his hand looking small on the thick muscular pec. "That's right you do," said Lawrence, bouncing his chest. "But I don't think you're going to getting bigger than your old man. But let's see how you do!" Lawrence winked down at Darren and then gently tipped the glass, carefully pouring the solution into the second container. The pink and blue liquids merged into a light purple concoction. They both watched to make sure not a drop was spilled, and Darren picked up the now full container. "Bottoms up!" said Lawrence, pulling from behind his back the third and final glass, containing a pale green liquid. He clinked beakers with his son and tossed his head back, draining half the glass before wiping his satisfied smirk. Darren stared at his father for just a moment longer, before tipping back his own glass and chugging the combined formulas. He set down the glass and looked at his father expectantly. Darren wasn't sure what sensation he anticipated, but when it came he couldn't help but moan. Darren first felt a light heat radiating from his stomach, suffusing his body with a pleasant tingling. His brain felt dizzy, almost as though he were pleasantly buzzed. Then the tingling sensation in his neck and shoulder began to grow more insistent, becoming an itch. Then becoming a throbbing almost-pain. The pressure on his neck and shoulder built, making Darren gasp, and he tried to stretch and strain his neck, twisting to look at his shoulder. As he watched, the feeling intensified and suddenly his neck throbbed and BULGED as the trap muscle on that size inflated. The feeling was near indescribable as his skin stretched, feeling like a water balloon full of lead was growing on his neck. His shoulder followed, swelling up into a striated ball before the growth spread lower. Darren's upper arm tingled, then filled with a fire like liquid steel as his muscles and tendons tensed and swelled. He felt themthrobbing, and growing against his bones. Bones that were lengthening, growing denser, stretching to accommodate new size and mass. Darren looked up at his father, panting, sweat running down his face. His father was watching Darrens arm intensely, grinning lustily, and Darren felt an answering grin appear on his own face. The bloating sensation traveled down from his bicep into his forearm, and he lifted his hand, watching his limb stretch and swell to double it's former length. It seemed almost twig-like, until snaking cords of muscle began to rise up, wrapping and folding over themselves as they grew thicker and more powerful, enlarging his forearm until it was bigger than his thighs. Darren felt himself leaning to one side, the new weight of his arm pulling his whole body to the left. He tried to sit up straight, but didn't have the strength to support his own muscles. The thought was so incongruous Darren began laughing helplessly, in between gasping for breath, trying to draw air into a chest that was becoming too heavy for him to lift. Suddenly Darrens right foot cramped and twisted. He yelped as the feeling turned into an icy burn, numbing the pain, but he could still feel the bones of his foot shifting, broadening, growing longer. He looked down and watched his right foot inflate, becoming wider and blockier, fully twice the size of his left foot. He briefly wondered what shoe size it might be, before the icy coolness flowed up his shin. The chilling effect transformed into burning heat as his calf began to balloon, and again he felt as though his skin was stretching over hot lead. Huge veins and muscular cords stood out as his calf bulged larger than his head, the pulsing snakes of blood and cords of sinew rising up, over and around his kneecap, stabilizing it as his thigh began to swell as well. Darren felt himself lifting, rising up on his seat as muscles throbbed and bulged in his thigh, causing him to list even farther to the left. Tipping further and further, until the chair he was sitting on slid out from beneath him. Falling to the floor, Darren felt large hands grip him beneath the arms and lift him into a sitting position on. His father was moaning up above him, and for a moment Darren thought his Dad might be hurt, or think that HE was hurt. Then, Lawrence's hands shifted, one hand staying on Darren's monstrous and powerful shoulder, the other reaching to grope Lawrence's underwear. Darren was temporarily distracted from the feeling of his other foot starting to go numb and swell by the swelling in his Dad's underwear. Seated on the floor, between his fathers own redwood thighs, Darren was at the perfect level to witness his fathers nuts bounce and churn, beginning to inflate inside his underwear. The two orbs were already larger than the average mans but now they were swelling up to the size of oranges. Then grapefruits. One large nut escaped the leg hole of Lawrence's underwear, and Darren gasped lustily as he watched that orb stretch and pull on his fathers sack. Darren braced his massive left hand on the ground, using his right hand to grip his father's thigh and pull himself closer. Darren shoved his face against his fathers huge nuts, feeling the silky hot skin against his cheek, heady musk wafting into his nose. Above him his father groaned, Lawrence shifting and bucking his hips in the chair, grinding his swelling underwear against his son's face. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck yes Darren, that's it, worship your old mans nuts. Fuck they feel so big. I'm so big! How big is your fucking Daddy, son?" his deep voice boomed from above. As he spoke, Lawrence lifted his hands behind his head, and slouched in his chair, leaving his lap exposed to Darrens worship. "He's so, BIG," moaned Darren, licking his fathers nut as it throbbed larger against his face. "Your the biggest man and best Dad in the whole world..." Darren trailed off as he gasped, the fiery feeling in his thighs driving all though from his brain. Thick, powerful muscles filled his legs now, and his ass was beginning to inflate inside his own underwear. The sensation was unimaginable and forced Darren to lean against his Dad's thighs for support while his whole body trembled. Darren's ass filled with iron hard muscle, lifting his seat even higher, thick cords of muscle spreading up his back. He felt his core begin to tighten, and reached down with his right hand to rub his emerging six pack, each ab lightly dusted with hair, the grooves between the muscles growing deeper with every flex. Suddenly Darren felt his back explode outward, both shoulders broadening, one slender, one freakishly muscled. Darren was aware of them forcing his fathers knees apart only vaguely, as the spreading of Lawrence's legs wider pressed his cock and balls harder against Darrens face. Darren laughed, feeling power flow up his back. Huge, HEAVY slabs of muscle erupted across his shoulders, neck buried in engorged traps. His strong abs and powerful core supported the new wingspan, and he felt his arms lifted up and out into new amazing angles by the spreading of his lats. But his focus now was on the rising cannon about to burst out of his fathers underwear. Cantaloupe sized nuts pushing firmly against his chest, Darren leaned forward, placing his right hand on his fathers growing tool. The black cotton of Lawrence's underwear finally tore away, waistband snapping off as his Dad's nine inch cock began to bloat and thicken, catching up with the amazing testicles below it. Darren watched as both his hand and his fathers cock swelled up bigger, huge veins bulging out of both. He squeezed his fathers dick, feeling his grip strength increase as his forearm thickened. Above him he heard his Dad's moans and grunts get louder. As his right arm bulked up into a powerful series of bulging muscles, Darren could resist no longer, and guided his fathers growing cock into his mouth. The taste of his fathers cock was heavenly, sweaty, salty and musky. Darren groaned lustily around the shaft of his fathers expanding cock. He realized that his Dad wasn't hard yet, that some part of the growth process was holding the old man back. All the swelling in Darrens mouth was entirely due to the increasing heft and scale of that tool. A fierce new flaming and throbbing sensation began in Darrens stomach, and he tightened his abs up in excitement. The burning bloomed upward, moving as a wave of heat into Darrens still flat chest. He leaned even harder against his father, pressing his chest into those massive testicles as he felt his chest begin to pump. Throb. Flex, and grow. Darren moaned around the rapidly inflating cock as pecs, two enormous and heavy masses of muscle erupted from his torso. The weight was incredible, the strength to carry the mass even more so. He flexed and bounced his chest as the muscles swelled and stretched without end, grinding them against his father's nuts. At the same time he felt his fathers cock begin to stiffen, growing harder in his mouth. Darren's head was forced backward, only the insane growth of his chest keeping him in contact with his fathers cantaloupe sized balls. He lifted both hands to that rod, each finding space on his fathers increasing length while Darren continued to lick and suck on the tip within his mouth. He felt his jaws forced wider and wider, until with some panic he finally had to pull his fathers cock head out of mouth. He was just in time as the enormous muscular length thickened until Darren new that even a giant like himself couldn't hope to fit that flared head in his mouth. 'A giant like himself.' The though stopped Darren for a moment, and he realized it was true. His huge hands pressed against his fathers thighs were attached to forearms bigger than the bole of a tree. Soccer ball sized biceps pressed against a chest that contained more muscle than his entire body had that morning. Boulder shoulders stretched away from his face as he stretched his thick neck left to right. Cobbled abs led down to skintight underwear that seemed laughably small to him, like he'd shrunk them in the wash. His massive thighs rubbed against each other pleasantly, and he could feel his huge calves flexing and grinding against his even more massive ass as he sat on his knees. An insistent throbbing and a flood of musky pre splashing across his broad hairy chest brought Darrens attention back to his fathers mammoth cock. Two heavy hands thumped onto Darrens shoulders, and he felt his fathers powerful grip rubbing and probing the muscles, while pulling Darrens face insistently against his Dad's cock. Darren was happy to oblige, stroking his fathers enormous length with one hand while the other squeezed and kneaded Lawrence's heavy balls. HIs tongue bathed the head of his Dad's mighty cock, and he slurped up the gushing torrent of cum as he felt his fathers body seizing and spasming above him, growing closer and closer to release. Suddenly, a rugged hand was gripping his chin, forcing Darren to tip his head back. Those fingers prized his mouth open, while a second hand brought a glass container to his lips. Understanding dawned in Darren, and he brusquely seized the glass from his father, pouring the liquid down his throat before throwing the vessel away with a shattering crash. He turned his attention back to his father and shoved his face between Lawrence's two heavy musky orbs. He licked and worshiped those hairy nuts with his tongue, feeling his fathers hand on the back of his head tangled in his wavy hair. The burning heat in Darrens stomach, nearly receded, crested suddenly to a new intensity, and he felt burning tendrils of magma pumping their way down his abdomen and deep into his scrotum. He gasped and moaned, body tensing and flexing uncontrollably as liquid lead poured into his balls. He felt the skin of his sack stretch to bursting, and then continuing to grow tighter, more taught against the swelling mass of his testicles. The cool floor made him sigh when his nuts touched ground, filling the space between his thighs, making him shift his legs further apart to make room. The desire to cum, to climax, to relieve the pressure was intense, but the pressure only continued to build. He felt his own average cock began to snake outward from his abdomen. The weight of it was surreal, the sensation of his cock growing longer, thicker, and plumper without ever getting hard was impossible to describe. Above him he could feel his fathers cock jerking and spasming, a rain of burning droplets across his broad back telling him his father was cumming. The desire to join his Dad forced his cock even larger, and fhe finally felt the intensely sensitive skin of his dick stretching and firming up, his shaft rising higher and higher. His cock thumped against each set of his abs, and somewhere in his mind, a part of his brain that was free of the haze of hormones and pheromones wondered just how BIG he was going to get. Darren got his answer when he felt the tip of his cock tickling the underside of his enormous pecs. The sensation made Darren cry out in his much deeper voice, and he grabbed his cock with one hand, eyes going wide as he felt it continue to swell, fighting his grip. Unable to control himself any longer, Darren rose up unsteadily to his feet. Standing took much longer than he though it should and his new vantage point was dizzying, but Darren focused his horny thoughts on his father below him. His old man seated on a chair, head leaned back, hands rubbing his cock and abs as Lawrences own massive cannon relaxed to half mast. Darren grabbed his father by the shoulders and thrust, driving his cock up between the mounds of his Dad's chest. The tight canyon felt impossibly good around Darrens cock, and he began to buck his hips, feeling his nuts sway wildly and collide with his Dad's own cock. The chest muscles around his dick began to flex and bounce, driving Darren wild as the nerves in his cock sent signals of impossible pleasure to his brain. Darren couldn't take anymore, and he felt his body tense and his enormous nuts draw up, before his cock burst. A geyser of thick cum erupted from the tip, splashing against the ceiling and raining down on the two of them. Darren bucked and thrust, grunting and moaning as he climaxed, powerful energy suffusing his entire body with a feeling of bliss. The kitchen chair beneath his father gave way and collapsed, and the two giants tumbled to the floor. Grinding their massive chests together, still feeling his cock trapped between his fathers pecs, Darren leaned down and planted his lips against his father's. The bristles of his fathers beard scratched against his own pronounced stubble as he made out with his father, hands roaming and exploring that impossible body as his fathers hands squeezed and groped his own muscular back. Both their cocks rose up again, and the two of them felt their nuts contract simultaneously, and they blew thick sticky loads of cum between their hard muscled bodies. After what felt like hours, the two of them lay gasping on the kitchen floor. With a groan Darren rolled himself off his father. Their bodies made a sticky rasping sound as they pulled apart, and Darren felt his back land on the blessed coolness of the kitchen linoleum. He lay there, panting, staring at the mess on the ceiling, watching his pecs rise and fall out of his vision with every shuddering breath. Deep breathing from the radiant heat source beside him confirmed his father was also in need of a rest. Darren wasn't sure how long he lay there before he felt his fathers hand grasp and squeeze his own, the pressure immense but pleasurable to his newly strengthened body. "Darren?" "Yes Dad?" "I love you son." "I fucking love you too Dad." Darren began to chuckle, enjoying the bassy sound of his new voice. His father began to laugh too, and the two of them laid in the hot kitchen catching their breath after the growth they had just experienced. Darren heard and felt his father sit up next to him, and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on one massive hand. Darren admired his fathers heavy silhouette, and he reached out to rub his hand over Lawrence's bulging tricep. His Dad looked back down and grinned at him. "I think we made a bit of a mess son." He gestured at his cum soaked torso, then waved to include the ropes of sticky seed covering the rest of the kitchen. "Looks like that last drink did more than just grow our dicks. I've never felt myself cum so much. Or felt so Virile!" His dad lifted an arm to flex his bicep, then lifted it even higher, taking a whiff of his own arm pit. He made a gross face, but then grinned and leaned in to take a second deeper breath before letting his arm drop. Lawrence scratched his chest, making the muscles of his arm dance. "I don't think anybody has ever felt like us Dad," spoke Darren. "Let alone smelled quite as musky as we do." Darren groaned and sat up, a look of surprise crossing his face as he felt how strong and supple his core was. It was pleasantly easy to lift all the mass of his torso. He watched his father stand up and stretch our a hand to help Darren up. Darren enjoyed the view of his father enormous bare backside, then let out a gasp as his father turned. "Jesus Christ Dad. I knew you grew big, but I didn't realize just how much!" Lawrence looked puzzle, hand still outstretched. When he looked down at his cock swaying by his knees, he let out a deep chuckle and winked down at Darren. "I'd say watch your language son, but I think we can make exceptions for a couple of muscle gods like ourselves. Besides, I'm not the only one packing more tool than he needs." Darren reached up and accepted his Dad's hand, letting Lawrence pull him up. As he stood he brushed aside the kitchen's hanging light. His father wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight bearhug. Darren returned it with conviction. He loved the way their muscles bulged and pulsed against each other, and the incredible pressure of his Dad's hug. He could also feel his own cock pressed against his Dad's giant tool, and felt himself throb. Trying to distract himself, Darren experimented with flexing and bouncing his mighty chest. It took him a few attempts before he could reliable flex the muscles one at a time, but his father didn't seem to mind. In fact his Dad flexed right back, his hairier chest grinding against Darrens with enormous strength. Eventually his Dad let him go and they stepped apart. Their bodies made another sticky rasping noise, and they both broke into low pitched laughter. "Dad, I think we might need to have a shower. We're still a little sticky." "Just one shower? Son, we're gonna need to do this separately, there's no way we can both fit into the bathroom together, let alone the shower. Not that I don't want to try," his Dad said, leaning in for another kiss. "You've got a point," said Darren, breaking the kiss. "Why don't you go try first. I've already showered once today, it seems only fair. I'll try to do something about the mess in the kitchen. " "You sure you don't want to go hose each other off in the backyard?" joked his Dad, grabbing his own cock suggestively before laughing. "I think the neighbours might object Dad. Let's save that as a last resort. Or at least until after dark." "Oh, after dark. I like the way my son thinks!" Lawrence smirked. "It won't be too long before then anyway. But fine. I'll go try." Darren stood looking at his Dad, neither of them moving, both entranced with the others giant bodies. Finally his Dad shifted, strutting past Darren. Or trying too, as their shoulders collided and they both had to laugh again. "It might take your old man a bit of time to adjust to how BIG he is now son." Lawrence chuckled as he forced his way past Darren, reaching back to cup Darren's ass as he did so. Darren stuck his head through to the living room, grinning as he watched his Dad climb up the groaning stairs, huge ass bouncing with every stride. Turning back to the kitchen, Darren brought his own arms up into a flex, looking at both of them, making the muscles dance. He grinned, then sighed as he looked at the ropes of cum splashed across the kitchen. He also chuckled at the layer of dust on the fridge, now visible from his new height. By his guess both he and his Dad were equally eight feet tall now. The countertops looked so far away, and the cupboard door handles were tiny in his massive hands. He kept misjudging distances, banging doors with his knuckles, bumping walls and furniture with his shoulders. The biggest excitement was when he tried to stand at the sink and had to back up to make room for his junk. He looked down proudly at a cock nearly as big as his meaty forearm, and shifted his hips, feeling how his balls swayed. Darren became so involved with exploring his newfound size that he nearly jumped when he heard his fathers deep voice from the living room entry. "I thought you were going to start trying to clean up in here," came a stern mocking tone. "Why does it seem like things have only gotten more messy! Darren turned to see his dad gesturing at a broken vase, knocked over chairs, and a cupboard door wrenched from the wall and placed neatly on the kitchen table. "Well pardon me Dad, some of us have been adjusting to the new size that You got us into!" Darren grinned. "I wasn't the one that decided to drink unknown liquids!" His father walked into the kitchen, heavy thighs sliding around each other, hairy body glistening fresh from the shower. His dad hadn't even bothered to look for clothes, and stood there drying his hair with a small towel, muscles dancing with the movements. Darren couldn't help but lick his lips. "Well I wasn't the one that brought home unknown experimental liquids either. But I'm so glad you did," said Lawrence, stepping up to Darren and planting a kiss on him again. His dads hands exploring his torso made Darren gasp, and he tried to pull his dad in closer. "Ah ah son, none of that now. I just scrubbed up and you're still covered in my load!" His Dad's eyes sparkled. "Get upstairs and clean up. That's an order. I'll try to do something about the mess down here." Darrens Dad snapped his ass with a towel as Darren lumbered by. Rubbing his ass in mock pain, and then with fingers curious about all that new muscle, Darren made his way upstairs. He grinned as the stairs creaked and complained under him. He smirked as his shoulders brushed the walls of the hallway. He laughed as he saw telltale gouges in the bathroom doorframe where his father has clearly hit his head and shoulders. Everything felt new and amazing to Darren as he looked down at the smaller world from his new height. The bathroom felt almost claustrophobic to a man of his size. The shower barely hit his chest, and he cracked several more tiles in the shower trying to twist his body to rinse off. More tiles in addition to the several broken tiles he noticed his father had left. Eventually giving up and pronouncing himself clean, Darren lumbered back out into the hall, drying himself off with his second towel. He walked carefully down the creaking stairs, and rounded into the kitchen, towel wiping and groping his already dry pecs, and saw his Dad washing the walls with a mop. Darren laughed, making his Dad turn and grin. "Seemed like the only way to get the job done son. I didn't know we had it in us. I guess these big bodies of ours can do a lot of new things now." Lawrences smiled and cupped his big full balls again, letting them slap against his thigh. "I guess this towel might make a better cum rag than an actual cloth at our size. I'll do here, if you get that wall." Darren grinned, working behind his Dad, purposely grinding his ass into his father's at every chance he could get. He felt himself beginning to perspire again. The close confines of the kitchen combined with their more massive bodies made the space heat up quickly. Soon the pleasing scent of Man filled the kitchen, and Darren felt his cock twitching back to life again. It was his father who broke the companionable silence. "You know, I've been thinking son." "Oh? What about, Dad?" "Do you know where I can get more of that stuff?"

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.

Hey there, first time poster, long time lurker. This is a gender swapped story of Deviantart's Morefriction's story Wrong Target from their HERS universe. Posted with their permission ofc. Hope you all like it. The lockdowns were ruining everything. All of Kyle's classes were online and he'd been laid off of his part-time job, so he didn't even have an excuse to leave the house anymore. He'd been stuck in the house with his freaking parents for months on end, while it seemed like everyone he ever knew was out in the real world enjoying their lives, finding boyfriends, making money, and living in their own apartments. And, Kyle thought, bitterly, getting the damned HIMS virus. OK, so he only actually knew one guy who'd gotten it—Liam Stilson, who'd apparently gotten so huge that the government was sending him checks just so he could afford food and a giant studio apartment within walking distance of where he worked. But it was everywhere. All over social media, guys his age were posting these crazy before and after pics of their HIMS virus transformations. Kyle had found it bizarre, at first, then somewhat grotesque. Their muscles were so huge and bulging that they were completely impossible to hide or really even to cover, not that most of the guys bothered. They were always out, plain for the world to see, and people were always staring at them like they were obsessed. And for Kyle, who had spent no small part of his college career avoiding the "freshman fifteen" with a religious exercise routine and frequent salads, the very idea of stuffing yourself like a total pig, so hungry that you couldn't even stop yourself from eating, was an actual nightmare. But as Kyle started seeing more of them, and he got used to seeing their absurd forms, something kind of clicked. There was one post where a guy was just walking down a crowded sidewalk. It was just a twenty second clip, taken from his perspective, which must have been nine or ten feet in the air, but Kyle had watched it countless times. It was something about the way the guy's immense shoulders swayed lazily from side to side with his slow, deliberate gait, the way that even through the camera you could just feel how huge he was; the way everyone on the street was staring at him, taking pictures of him, and all of them looking so strangely small. Suddenly, Kyle got it. He started following the original poster, then discovered a dozen other HIMS accounts to follow as well. He found the idea occupying a larger and larger space in his mind, and the idea that he could be one of those guys, that people might look at him that way, became an obsession. Especially considering that Kyle himself was only 5’11’’ in a very tall family. He wanted to know what it was like not looking up at people anymore. But Kyle wasn't going to catch HIMS like this. His parents had him washing his hands a hundred times a day, disinfecting anything and everything that came from outside the house, and he wasn't even supposed to go anywhere unless he absolutely needed to. His mother found the idea disgusting. Possibly because of her own 6’2’’ body, which she was always proud of, and which she loved. She disliked the idea of these men being so much taller than everyone else. As for his father? It seemed as if he wasn't much into the idea either. His father had spent decades of his life working on his own body. He was already fairly tall, at 6'4'', and the years spent working out in the gym were obvious in the way his immense muscles stretched his shirts and sweatpants he wore around the house even at the age of 54. Kyle thought that his dad simply might have felt he had no need to take his own body any further, and go through all the rigmarole that a HIMS infection could put him through at home and at work. His father was a successful man that had pretty much everything he wanted, and he didn’t want to disturb that. But Kyle soon found a solution. After following countless links and reading countless discussions of other men who wanted to catch the HIMS virus despite the government's restrictions, Kyle found a man selling contaminated items online, things he'd been in contact with when he'd manifested the HIMS virus symptoms. Without thinking twice, Kyle had paid the five hundred dollar asking fee, which almost completely drained his bank account. He got excited, imagining himself growing taller, stronger. He loved the idea of being even bigger and more masculine than his old man. Something he wouldn’t have thought was even possible not that long ago. When the package finally arrived Kyle was more than a little disgusted to find that it was, of all things, a dirty napkin. He was half tempted to throw it away, almost sure that he'd been the victim of what should have been a very obvious scam. But he'd waited so long and he'd fantasized about the possibility so much that he finally held the awful thing in his hands, then tentatively wiped the repulsive thing over his face and mouth, until there was no way that he hadn't been exposed to the virus. He even kept the stupid thing on his desk, intending to expose himself again on the following day, but it had disappeared after breakfast. “Got anything more to throw out up there bud? I’m taking out the trash!” He heard his father ask from downstairs. It was obvious that he had taken it while cleaning. That night, as they were watching an old movie together in the living room, Kyle and his mother heard his father’s stomach growl aggressively. He just smiled and turned to them. “Woah, sorry about that. Must have gotten hungry.” He said, patting his firm, muscular stomach. Which was odd, Kyle thought, because the three of them had just had dinner. After a while his dad got up and got himself a snack from the kitchen. He finished it and went up to get another. After he had finished that, he brought out the leftovers from that night’s dinner and started eating them, staring at the TV. “David,” Kyle’s mother asked, a growing look of concern falling across her face. “Are you alright?” “Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just famished.” He smiled at her, and he passed his large hand through his full, thick salt and pepper hair, nervous. Kyle couldn’t help but glance at his father’s large bicep, as it twitched and curled into a firm ball as he brought up his hand to his head. Soon, his father had eaten almost everything in the fridge. His mother was starting to freak out. His father tried to reassure them that everything was fine, he wasn’t even feeling weird, it was just a weird hunger spell. Kyle didn’t want to believe it, but a part of his brain was no longer able to ignore just how tight his father’s clothes were now, so much more so than usual. How it seemed like, no matter how much he pulled his sweatpants down, the cuffs always kept rolling above his ankles, his shirt was riding up more and more. He saw his father eye the canisters of enhanced nutritional formula they had acquired through his dad’s friends as a precaution, never in a million years thinking that they'd ever use them, but feeling that it was better to have them than not. And then it began. His father stood up, and bent over. His stomach growled again, much louder than before. Kyle’s mother jolted up and went to the canisters, opening one up and helping his father drink from it. He gulped it down greedily, tens of thousands of calories sliding down his throat. Then he went for another canister, and then another. They all knew what this meant. At first, Kyle was too stunned, too utterly hurt by the cruel twist of fate to even say a word. He simply stood there, helplessly, as his father grew larger and larger, his cries of panic and dismay at having caught the virus soon muffled by the sounds of relentless, machine-like consumption. Kyle’s mother stared at her husband as he visibly expanded in the living room, his thighs and butt swelling, his pecs growing thicker and wider on his chest, his already huge arms packing on even more corded, hard muscle, and his entire frame growing five or six inches longer. They all had to face the reality of the situation. They were supposed to only get one canister of nutrients per household from the government, but his dad wrangled some of his old friends he knew had access to them into giving them a whole load of canisters, just in case. As she watched her husband gulp down the thick liquid greedily, Kyle’s mother regretted giving them all to him almost at once. They only seemed to make him hungrier, more insatiable, and he gulped down the oddly clear, gelatinous fluid like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted. Her husband’s already enormous cock was also increasing at an alarming rate, although already standing fully erect as he drank, having long ago burst through his sweatpants like they were made of tissue paper, it too just kept growing longer and thicker. She realized, as he took another canister from her, that his forearms alone might have already become larger than even her thighs. She watched his engorged, enormous muscles twitch and twist as he brought the canister up to his height, his bicep curling into a ball the size of her chest. His jaw had become even sharper and more masculine, which she didn’t really know was possible for someone who was already so grizzled, handsome, and manly to begin with. She looked down at his waist. Somehow it remained narrow and tight even on his new titanic frame. Where David had once a solid six pack, now he sported an inhumanly ripped and bulging eight pack and Adonis belt. As she handed her husband yet another of the canisters of formula from the bannister of the staircase, as it was the only way she could match his height now, she was vaguely aware of her poor son screaming and crying from below, obviously distraught at watching his father go through such a horrific ordeal. David felt his son’s increasingly smaller fists pound ever more weakly against first his large, round shoulders, then the side of his growing, thickening chest as he kept gulping down more and more of the nutrients his wife just kept handing to him. His clothes tore and fell in tatters on the floor, he kept feeling the tiny fists impact his large, firm ass, then the side of his growing tree trunk thighs, until he felt the hits of anger, or fear, or whatever it was, just somewhere above his knee against his titanic quads which were already huge before, but by now must have been large enough to fit both his wife and son together to into only one. He must have passed the average 10 foot mark that HIMS men usually reached some time ago, he thought, as he kept on consuming more and more of the nutrients. It had only taken a few hours. A few hours of incredulity, then panic, and finally healthy doses of fear as Kyle's dad continued his seemingly relentless growth. But it was finally over. The three of them all stood there in the living room in awe. In the end, Kyle found himself staring up and up at his father, who had become one of the most enormous, hung, and muscular HIMS men he'd ever seen.

This is a quick one shot. Synopsis : Liam is a bodybuilder with big goals, and during a late-night muscle worship session, he just might reach them. Up. Down. Up. Down. I lay on the bench, pushing the bar up. It’s loaded with 295 pounds of steel, but it is only slightly challenging. I am stronger than I was last week. Every week I grow stronger and bigger, but it’s not enough. I always want to be bigger. Up. Down. My pecs and tris contract when I push the weight up, expanded against my thin, tanned skin, becoming pumped, engorged with blood. I can feel the sweat run down my forehead, my neck, my arms, my chest, soaking into my tank. I am hot, covered in sweat, though the gym’s AC is blasting cool air. Up. Down. I force out rep after rep, tearing my muscle fibers down so that I can rebuild them later, bigger and more powerful. A protein shake churns in my belly, below a wall of chiseled abs. Test, Dbol, and Tren coarse through my veins. “One more rep,” I tell myself. “One more. Gotta get one more.” I get it and push for another. I’m always pushing for more. My muscles are so pumped they ache, and it feels good. Around me, the din of the other gym goers doesn’t reach my ears. The crowded gym might as well be empty. All that exists is me and the weight, in this moment. Up. Down. Up. I rack the weight, finishing my set. As I rise up to the sitting position my ‘cheerleader’ (I mean spotter) taps me on both shoulders and exclaims “You’re a beast, Liam!” I know. He’s 27, my age, but smaller. His name is Tom and I know he only spots me so he can be close to me, so he can gaze on my bulging muscles. His 150-pound physique pales in comparison to my 195 pound one. My muscles are something to behold, I think, as I stare at my pumped form in the gym mirror. But they aren’t big enough. I imagine myself some time in the future, after a decade of roid use, eating big, and lifting heavy, standing beside the then Mr. Olympia, making him look small. I will not be Mr. Olympia, of course. I will be too obscene, to grotesquely large for that stage. Unjudgeable. An anomaly that no one will understand. Just being so much larger than Mr. Oympia will give me satisfaction enough. Or will it? Probably not. I’ll still want to be bigger. Much bigger. “Hey, look.” Tom taps me on my trap. It must feel like stone to his little hand. He’s a cardio junkie, who runs on the treadmill more often than he pumps iron. He draws my attention to the other end of the room, past the rows of benches, machines, and free weights, to the gym entrance. A Colossal man has entered. He looks like a competitive bodybuilder, bigger than anyone else here, but not as big I one day hope to be. “I bet he can’t even wipe his own ass,” Tom whispers to me. “Yeah,” I say, eying the mass monster with envy. Tom meant his comment to be derisive, but my cock twitched at the thought. Oh, to be that big. So big, I can’t touch my back. So big, I can’t wipe my own ass. Obese with lean, hard, thick, dense, beautiful mounds of muscle, forcing my arms to stick out stiff like the branches of a tree, and making me walk with a waddle. “You’re not planning to get that big, are you?” Tom asks with mock concern plastered on his face. “Not that big,” I say. “Bigger.” I grin devilishly and stare into his brown eyes. Tom looks at me with surprise and scratches his scalp, his hand getting lost in his mop of black hair. “Really?” He says. “It’s just not practical, you know. Maybe another 10 or 15 pounds on you and you’d be perfect.” “Fuck practical.” I laugh. “If I wanted practical, I’d have taken up swimming. I took up lifting because I want to be huge, with a capital H U G and E!” “You’re already pretty huge, dude.” Compared to you. “Nah, this isn’t huge.” I flex my arms, watching as the peaks rise like little mountains. I can see the separation between the long and short heads. They glisten with sweat. If I was home, I would whip my cock out and masturbate to my hot body, but I’m not home and not trying to go to jail (Though half the gym would probably enjoy the show). Instead, I must be content to just look at them, basking in my own vanity. Tom watches me ogling myself and I see him shake his head in the mirror, though he’s smiling, staring at my arms, as well. Tom reaches out quickly and steals a squeeze. His fingers don’t dent the hard muscle. They linger just a little too long, I think, for a straight man. Was he straight? I wasn’t sure. I sure as hell am not. “Pretty huge,” he says and gives me a look. Envy? Lust? Admiration? Sometimes a look can be so hard to read. “Well, I’m done.” I rise up to my full 6-foot height. Two inches taller than Tom. “Gotta go eat.” “See you next time, dude. I’m gonna hit the treadmill.” Tom gives me a pound and we part ways. As I leave the workout area, I spy the massive bodybuilder shoulder pressing with 100-pound dumbbells, His massive muscles swelling up with each rep. One day, I think, one day. In the locker room, I pull a pre-mixed mass-gainer shake from my gym bag and chug it, before leaving. The shake has 1200 calories and 50 grams of protein to fuel my continued growth. I flex in the mirrors near the sink, standing between two smaller men, enjoying the sight of my pumped-up physique and wishing the pump would never go away. I must be standing there too long, because I get strange looks. Look at that vain guy they must be thinking. Meathead. Dumb jock. My cock is rock hard. The pleasure I experience from my own body is magnified by their stares. I stand further back, peel off my sweat-soaked tank, and drop my joggers so my striated quads are on full display. The teardrop in my legs bulges forward, perfectly defined. I love my symmetry, my veins, my leanness. The only thing I don’t love is my size. Too small. I want more. More. MORE! The thought of more fills my head as I drive home. It fills my head as I consume my first of two dinners (Chicken breast, sweet potatoes, and broccoli). As I masturbate naked in front of my full-length mirror. As I inject the syringe of test into my glutes. As I drink my casein shake before bed. And as I check my messages before finally getting some shut eye. I have a message from a potential muscle-worship client. It reads: Hey Liam. My name is Jessie. Tom referred me to you. He’s a friend of mine and said you do muscle-worship sessions. I checked out your picks online and would love to meet up. You’re hot! Tom knows I do muscle-worship. It was never something I tried to hide. Getting big is expensive and I do whatever it takes to pay for it. After I had mentioned it to him months ago, however, he never bought it up to me again. He certainly never referred a client to me. I honestly thought he had forgotten all about it. Me and the potential client message each other back and forth, discussing desires, boundaries, payment, and any other particulars. It turns out he lives nearby, and we agree to meet the following night. I go to bed exited. I love being worshipped. It makes me feel like the muscle god I one day hope to grow in to. The next day I go to my job at GNC, workout, eat, and shower and, when the evening rolls around, I get dressed in a pair of black tapered joggers, white sneakers, and a very tight white henley. I drive to our agreed upon meeting spot, a picnic park near a nature preserve on the edge of town. Jessie had said he wanted to worship me outdoors, under the stars. I admit, I thought it was a little strange, but I had spoken with Tom over the phone during the day and he assured me Jessie was a normal guy (albeit very obsessed with muscle), not a psycho. His words eased my doubts. I swagger across the wet grass of the park; the cool night air is bracing. Jessie stands beside a picnic table, a cone of lamp light illuminating the space around him. I smile. He waves. Jessie’s hair is blonde, made golden by the lamp light. His face is average, but his smile is perfect, big and welcoming. When I reach him, I see that he is very short, maybe 5’ 4’’. He wears blue jeans and a red t-shirt, that drapes his twig body like a sheet. He is 21 but could pass for 16. “Hello,” I say, looking down at him, and extending my hand. “Hey,” he says, his eyes moving over my whole body. He smiles even wider as my large, calloused hands envelope his soft, small ones. I feel a tingle when we touch, like static, a slight electric pulse that starts in my hand, moves up my arm, and courses through my body causing my muscles to twitch. I’ve heard of sparks flying between two people, but I didn’t think it literally happened. “So, little guy. You like muscle, huh?” I ask, smiling cockily as I bounce my thick pecs. “Oh, yeah.” He is eye level with my chest. “Well, feast your eyes-” I go to remove my shirt, but he stops me with a “no”. He wants to worship me with my clothes on. Strange. “Why?” I ask. “No one’s ever wanted that before. Don’t you want to see what’s under this shirt?” I do a double bicep pose. “You’re paying for a full show.” “Oh, I’ll see it soon enough, believe me,” he says. “But it’s more fun for me this way. You’re not attached to these clothes, are you?” “No. Why?” “You’ll see.” He reaches out and feels my arm, squeezing my bicep, as I flex. There goes that electric pulse again. He can’t fit both of his tiny hands around my arm. I find that so hot. I look from my arm to his and can’t believe how much bigger I am than him. It’s like comparing a log to a stick. My arm seems to grow tighter against the fabric of my shirt, stretching the cloth to its limits. “God, you’re big,” Jessie says. “Not big enough,” I reply. “You’ll grow,” he says. “I know.” “No, you’ll grow tonight.” I look him in the eyes. They are piercing. Serious. Sexy. I wonder what he means by ‘you’ll grow tonight’, as he runs his hands from my biceps to my chest. Another pulse. My shirt grows tighter. I feel like I have the biggest pump, like I’ve down 50 reps of bench flies. I perform a most muscular pose and when I look down at my arms, I notice one is bigger than the other. The first arm Jessie touched, my right, is bigger than my left! “Wha-?” I look down at it, concerned, eyes ready to jump from my head. Jessie immediately grips my smaller arm. Electric pulse. It grows to match the size of the larger one. I estimate that Jessie has added 2 inched to both of my arms. Impossible. “What are you doing to me?” “I have a peculiar talent,” Jessie says. “I can fulfill men’s dreams about their bodies by just touching them.” I stare at him, incredulous. It sounds unbelievable, but… I squeeze my arms and they truly are bigger. I’m not imagining it, so… It’s real! “Most men I’ve touched just want to be hotter, a little bigger, a little more defined, a little this, a little that,” Jessie continues “But I’ve longed to touch someone with truly immense goals. When Tom told me about you, I knew I had found my man.” “I dreamed of being much bigger than this,” I say. “Well, I’m not done worshipping you yet. The change doesn’t come all at once.” Jessie reaches up and takes my shoulders in his hands. “Tell me how much you love to grow. I want to hear.” “I love growing bigger,” I say. “It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s all I think about. Bigger. Bigger! BIGGER! So big I have trouble fitting through doorways. So big I brush up against ceilings. So big, furniture crumbles beneath my weight.” “Yes!” Jessie screams. “That’s what I hoped. That’s why I wanted to worship you outside. To give you room to grow, to expand to the full extent of your dreams. Grow for me. Grow!” I’ve grown stiff as a two by four, pitching a tent in my joggers. His cock is hard as well. His jeans show an ever-expanding wet spot. Jessie rubs my shoulders vigorously and I feel them expand, my traps as well, rise up, consuming my neck. I stretch outward, Jessie’s hands moving farther and farther apart with my expanding body. My delts are obscene, literally the size of cantaloupes. And them: Boom! My Henley gives out. It was amazingly stretchy and put up a good fight, but it is no match for my expanding frame. It tears, with a loud Rip! exploding off me in ribbons and drifting to the grass. Jessie moves back to my arms. They expand again. 20 inches. 21 inches. 22. 23. 24. 25…29. They are bigger around than Jessies waist. The bicep alone is the size of his head. The electric pulses coursing through my body with every touch feel orgasmic. I never want it to stop. I raise my arms as jessie is still gripping one of my biceps, raising him off the ground. He lets go, landing on his feet and begins to work over my torso. He grips my lats and they spread out like a cobra’s neck, as he runs his tongue over my sweaty abs. Each ab grows to the size of a fist, with grooves between them, impossibly deep. I can’t help but run my fingers up and down them, over and over again, like strumming a guitar. I must be a queer sight, a real-life Jonny Bravo. My upper body is colossal, yet my legs are the same size as before. I look like I might topple over, but, as though he knows what I am thinking, Jessie goes to his knees and begins to worship my glutes, quads, and calves. My ass juts backward. I hear the seam in back split, yielding to my new bubble butt. My quads and calves grow, expanding outward, but they also grow longer as the bones in my legs stretch out. I am growing taller! Jussie stands up and runs his fingers up and down my spine. It grows as well, stretching my torso out. I rise into the air, now over 7 feet tall. My expanding leg muscles are too much for my jogger and underwear. They suffer the same fate as my shirt and burst to threads, exposing my rock-hard 9-inch cock. The muscles of my inner thigh push my legs apart forcing me to walk with a waddle. I feel a little awkward on my size twelve feet. They weren’t made for this much mass. But once again Jussie seems to read my mind. He places his hand on my feet and they burst through my sneakers. I kick the tattered fragments of leather away, with my knew size twenty feet, which sink slightly into the ground, under my new weight. I can’t imagine how much I must weigh, but it must be well in excess of 600 pounds. I am so wide, so thick. Every muscle is developed beyond reason. I can only lumber forward, stiffly, and hit approximations of the major body building poses. I can’t touch my ass, or my toes. I can barely touch my own head because my biceps get in the way. I love it! As I look down at my shredded body, covered in a web of bulging veins I realize with concern I can hardly see my manhood over my pec shelf. “You can make everything grow, can’t you?” I ask. “Of course. What man’s dream would be complete without making that grow.” Jessie grins slyly and lunges for my throbbing cock. He places both of his hands on it, lubricated by his on saliva and begins to stroke it up and down. I’m in heaven as I feel it thicken and lengthen, growing heavier. When he is done it is 18 inches long and as thick as a gutter pipe My balls have grown as well. They hang low, as large a navel oranges. I don’t care how impractical it is. It’s my dream and it is fulfilled. Wait until Tom and everyone at the gym sees me tomorrow, I think. Jessie, steps back, admiring his handiwork, looking up at the god he created from my fantasy. I am a freak, the most grotesquely muscled being the world has ever seen, so musclebound I won’t be able to work. I will have to hire live in help, just to go about my daily life. The thought arouses me so much I feel my balls churn and cock twitch. I blow my load without even touching them and what a load it is. It shoots out of my cock with such force, that when it strikes Jessie, and it sends him flying back several feet. “Oh my God!” I say, “sorry, little guy.” Secretly I love how powerful my cumshot is. Jessie lies on his back a few seconds, before rising up to a sitting position. His face and torso are dripping with my sticky cum. It dangles in thick ribbons from his chin as he shakes his head and wipes it from his eyes. He smiles widely and licks the cum from his lips. “Are you happy?” Jessie asks. “I know I am.” I flex my muscles, my massive member bobbing in front of me, dripping cum. “I’m happy, but I think I can dream bigger…much bigger.” Jessie rises to his feet and walks towards me, his magic hands outstretched, and I close my eyes, imagining myself bigger and bigger still. There goes that electric pulse again.

I have a huge, exploding backlog of muscle fic. I’m tossing out a handful of fresh chapters to see what sparks your interest. The ones with the most likes and comments will get second chapters, so your input is going to be steering the stories that grow. I'm looking for feedback, what you liked, and what you want more of. Comment and help me level up on my muscle fic writing. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Hunter’s fingers skim Rex’s pec, but his eyes catch on the massive, silent shapes behind him — the hulks of old Humvees and half-rusted tanks. He breathes in a mixture of Rex’s sweat, and the dry Texas air thick rust and old oil. Behind them, the Boneyard looms, massive machines left to stand like ancient titans, each one marking where power once lived, and still waits. Like Rex’s muscle coiled under his fingertips. He nips Rex’s muscled pec, darting his tongue out to taste the warm skin. And muscle. So much muscle, bared for him, sidetracking him from his mission. “What is this,” he smiles soft, more to himself than Rex. “Are you….bigger?” He nips at the edge of Rex’s pec, his teeth grazing the muscle barely covered in thin white cotton. He’s testing the muscle beneath, trying to feel just how much of it there really is. Rex rumbles, and Hunter feels the smile forming on the quiet lips up above his head. The muscle he’s savoring pushes out, slowly, nudging his teeth. Rex. Hunter senses the silent challenge inside Rex’s calm. This is Rex. The edge of his fingers graze over Rex’s arm, and his mind flicks to the shapes around them — armor-plated giants, silent and caked in rust, waiting to be brought back to life. One way or another. He moves up and finds bare skin at Rex’s collarbone. Skin over a huge mound of delt muscle, pulsing in silence, waiting to be licked. Hunter flicks his tongue out, tasting the warmth of Rex’s skin, the faint salt and heat. The soft tunnels of veins pushing up on his tongue tip, the softer side of power in Rex’s living landscape of muscle. Hunter lands each small dart of his tongue just enough to feel the texture of this muscle — so solid, so damned real under his mouth. Hunger for this man buzzes in his body. Hums in Hunter’s teeth. “God,” Hunter huffs, his breath hot against Rex’s chest, “I could eat you alive, you know that?” Hunter feels big hands curling around his ass, and then a hard, powerful hike directly into Rex’s hipbone. Heat flares inside Hunter’s body, making his teeth tingle. Rex growls, deep and low. “This better not turn into vore. You start that up, I'm hulking out on you.” Hunter stops licking. Heat from Rex’s pulsing hard chest warms his lips. He pulls back. “Wait a second. You…you… can hulk out?” Rex’s biceps quiver and push into Hunter’s shoulders. Rex leans down, a sparking glint in his eye. “Try me, sweetheart. You push it, and I’ll show you exactly what happens when I get bigger.” Hunter’s eyebrow arches, his grin spreading against the solid wall of pec muscle. He squeezes Rex’s pec, hard. “Oh, so there’s a bigger you? Where’s he been hiding?” Rex’s pec hardens and pushes him off. Rex cocks a half-smile, leaning in close. “You think this is my final form?” “I hope not.” Hunter finds Rex’s nipple and bites. Hard. Rex grunts. “Really hope not.” Hunter smiles next to Rex’s pec, blows out a puff of warm breath onto the smooth, veined skin. Hunter licks and bites the shirt-covered delt. There’s enough meat here. Plenty. He sinks his teeth in, slowly, grading his pressure. “Jesus, Hunter.” Rex’s voice drops rough, as Hunter bites muscle, hard, and rakes his fingers into Rex’s lats. “Unngh. You sure you can handle all of me?” Hunter feels the dense warm weight growing in his hands as Rex shifts back, pressing into the Humvee. A low creak hums through the metal, just a whisper—but Hunter feels it, the solid mass of Rex settling firm behind him. “Full… Rex.” Hunter’s smile widens, fingers moving up and pressing deep into the warm, solid swell of Rex’s pec. A little chaos never hurt anybody. “Full Rex, huh? You’re talking a big game right now, but…are you all pump and no pop?” Rex’s eyes narrow. He flexes, just enough to press Hunter’s hand on his chest back, muscle everywhere swelling up. The hard pec bumps against Hunter’s chin. Hunter grins, savoring the feel of Rex — all hot, bothered, and pumped up. Rex chuckles. “Careful, Hunt. I might just show you what ‘hulking out’ really looks like.” Hunter’s pulse kicks up. He’s trying for casual. “Yeah? Are you just going to… expand right here? Break physics, crush the whole damn hummer?” Rex tilts his head, his gaze drilling into Hunter in the way Hunter loves. “You keep testing me, and yeah. You’ll find out.” He flexes again, the shirt straining, threads barely holding. I don’t believe you. But please prove me wrong. Nip, hard. Nip, harder. A mouthful of Rex’s muscle presses up against his teeth, pushing Hunt’s head up and back. Hunter hangs on, but it’s not easy with so much power locked between his teeth, busting to break out. Rex growls. Mmmmm. “For me?” “It's just....I can't really—” Not the answer I want tonight. Hunter seeks the next muscle to bite. Hmm. Hmm. Big pec, delts so big and juicy round they’re begging for Hunt’s teeth. But what’s next? He grazes his lips over Rex’s delts, over the capped shirt sleeve, and finds fresh soft skin over big hard muscle. As he traces his path over Rex’s arm muscles, Hunter’s eyes scan the rows of vehicles, the armored giants looming resting in silence. Somewhere in this wall of metal sits the little piece of gold he’s after, a black box brick waiting for him in the guts of an armored Humvee. Hunt flicks his tongue out, then bites into a mountain of muscle. Ahh. The bicep under his teeth pulses, and hardens, pulses, and hardens. Hunter’s cock wakes up, warming, pushing against his jeans. Rex’s eyes glint with fire that Hunter likes. “Hunt? Keep pushing, and I’ll make sure you feel every inch of me.” A big hand cups him below, firm and warm, holding him steady. Heat builds from the pressure, and deep, steady pleasure rises up into his body. Hunter’s heart hammers. He presses himself into Rex’s body, and grazes his teeth off Rex’s pumping peakt. He skims his warm breath along Rex’s bicep vein, this vein already pumping bigger, already roused from his first bite. Hunter knows that agreeing outright might bore the hell out of Rex as much as it might draw him in. He whispers, “Promises. Big promises.” Goading Rex, real good. He drags his fingers down Rex’s chest, letting his nails just graze the shirt’s already-stretched fabric. Rex’s gaze darkens with heat, and suddenly, he flexes — not just a little. His shoulders roll back, pecs swelling under the tight fabric, pressing into Hunter. Hunter pushes back and rubs his body into Rex’s pumping muscles—thighs, abs, pecs and lats. Rex’s his traps are rising up, pushing against Hunter’s hand, hard. The white undershirt fabric strains, the threads popping somewhere Hunter can’t yet see. Hunter splays his finger wide over Rex’s growing pec, feeling this muscle in his hand pumping and growing with each pulse. It’s not just growing. Hunter feels the muscle growing more dense, more grainy. Thicker first, before Rex grunts, and it surges forward at him. “Oh, fuck,” Hunter snorts, his cocky grin vanishing as Rex’s biceps press outward, filling every inch of space around them. His hands barely cover a fraction of the muscle expanding beneath his fingers. Heat is rushing from his ass up to his neck, catching him off guard. He can feel his thoughts slipping, this sudden arousal hitting him faster than he can brace for it. “Yeah,” Rex growls, his voice full of his own heated pleasure. "Feel me grow." Rex flexes hard under Hunter's palm, the muscle pushing up, with hard density and veins pulsing up with each flex. Rex flexes again. Hunter shivers, heat from the diamond tip of Rex's growing muscle searing through his hand, into his arm, into his body. All the way to his dick. Hunter has to close his eyes shut and groan, just to withstand the heat, the power. Hunter feels Rex's warm wet tongue lapping the muscle around his shaking, gripping hand. Getting off on his own growing muscle. "Mmmm. Feels good, doesn't it?" Rex flexes again into Hunter's palm, and swelling solid and hot under Hunter’s fingers. Rex grips his own pec, squeezing tight, and it looks huge, bigger than when Hunter squeezed it. Rex leans in, close enough that Hunter feels the vibration of his voice. “Still think I’m all show?” Hunter swallows hard, and doesn’t back down. “Oh, hell no.” He snorts, watching Rex’s muscles pulsing against the metal. “But if you keep going…” Hunter’s hand presses into Rex’s chest, fingers testing the hard muscle beneath. “I might not need....my tools to bust into this Humvee.” Rex’s laugh rumbles low, a knowing sound that sends a shiver through Hunter. He leans back just enough, a smirk spreading across his face as his hand grips Hunter’s ass, squeezing firm. “Hold on, Hunt.” His fingers press in, digging deeper, kneading, his fingertips points of heat burrowing into Hunter’s ass muscles. “I don’t turn army green. Or camo. But, thing is, once I get going? I can’t control this.” Rex pauses, letting Hunter feel him. “All this muscle in my face, already,” Hunter brushes his mouth on Rex’s cotton-covered pec, “you’re making me hungry.” Pressing a kiss against the dense muscle, Hunter bites down, hard as hell. Rex groans. His hands tighten on Hunter’s ass. Hunter gasps, can’t help it. He sucks in a breath of air through his nose. Rex’s voice drops, low and thick and strained. “Hope you brought an appetite, ‘cause I’m just getting started.”

Synopsis: Gabriel Cassidy is a muscular young man, leading a perfectly normal life in his California hometown, but a tragic death turns his world upside down and sends him on the adventure of a lifetime. Monsters are real, Magic is real, demons are real, and there are other worlds than this one. Gabe soon learns his life is anything but normal. But will his newfound knowledge and the help of 3 very strange companions be enough to save the world from evil? Prologue: Welcome to Their World Delion Blackmoor stood beneath a ragged white street sign that read ‘Dead End Dr.’ in big black letters. How funny, he thought. As hungry as he was it might very well be a dead end for someone. It was the witching hour and Delion stood watching his quarry take quick nervous steps down Maple Ave. Delion plunged his hands into the pockets of his long black leather Jacket and crept silently from Dead End Dr. onto Maple. The street was wet from the day’s rain and the air smelled clean. His quarry continued moving down Maple away from him, taking furtive glances behind him, every so often. But Delion knew his quarry wouldn’t see him. The hunter stood perfectly still when watched, for he had learned long ago that when he stood perfectly still, he could become one with shadow, unnoticed if he so pleased. Just before his quarry was out of sight Delion leapt into a sprint. He moved so fast and with such a light step, he ran on air, as soundless as the wings of an owl. Another beast that hunts at night. Delion was one of a great host of night prowlers: owls, foxes, leopards, hyenas, bats… Crisp night air hit his pale skin and ran like fingers through his shiny black curls. The world around him was a blur at this speed as he raced toward his prey. He had seen the man earlier that evening steal from a woman’s purse on the number five bus. He had followed him, as the man stole more and more, pickpocketing and even holding up a convenience store, racking up sin after sin. Such bad deeds needed to be punished, and Delion loved to dole out punishment, often with a heavy hand. He knew his friends, Vargan and Franco, wouldn’t be happy with him taking a detour from the mission, but when hunger calls… He was in front of his quarry now. To the thief he had been nothing but a strong wind blowing by. He might have taken him quickly, but no. Delion liked to look his prey in the eyes. He like to toy with them and have his fun. His stomach rumbled in protest. It had been so long since his last feeding and his body showed the lack of nourishment. He placed a hand on the cobblestone abs of his torso. He knew beneath his clothing he looked fit enough. The average person gazing upon his naked form would see a toned muscular physique, smooth and defined, the envy of any male model. But to Delion it paled in comparison to his usual, larger form. Oh, how he hungered for that size and strength. The thief stopped suddenly upon seeing Delion standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He had greasy, dirty blonde hair and high cheek bones. An ill-fitting beige jacket hung over his shoulders like a tarp. His blue jeans and brown boots had spots of mud, no doubt from the earlier rain. Delion curled his thin lips into a smile and stared at the thief with coal black eyes. The thief would see a flash of red in them like the light from a laser pointer. He would be confused at first. His prey always was. The instinct to run would come and then leave in an instant as the mesmer magic took hold. The thief stared at him with green eyes and Delion could see the expression of lust fall on his features, sexual energy radiating off him like heat. The thief lunged forward into Delion’s arms. “What is your name?” Delion asked in a voice like velvet. “Lukas,” He said, before placing a passionate kiss on Delion’s lips. *** He didn’t know what came over him. He wasn’t gay. He liked women, but the man in the black leather coat standing before him was the sexiest creature he had ever seen. Lukas could hardly believe his eyes. The man seemed to glow, and he smelled like…Lukas didn’t know what that smell was, but he felt like a moth attracted to the pheromones of its mate. Lukas groped at the body of the strange sexy man in black as he kissed him, their tongues entwined in a dance. There was muscle underneath this stranger’s leather jacket. Lukas reached beneath it and then beneath the man’s black shirt. He ran his fingers along the stranger’s abs, up to his chest and squeezed. It was invigorating. He had never kissed a man before, much less felt one up. What would his crew think if they saw him now? Lukas gone fag! The man in black grabbed his waist and guided, no, carried him into an alley with a graceful ease. He was strong as well as sexy and Lukas was his plaything. His toy. It was freeing. The man gripped his crotch, squeezing Lukas’ throbbing erection. Lukas returned the favor, though his companion was not hard yet. I’ll rectify that, Lukas thought, rubbing the stranger’s thick, soft cock. As his tongue explored his companion’s mouth, Lukas couldn’t help but notice the teeth. They were longer than normal. Sharp. He cut his tongue and tasted the salty metallic tang of his own blood. His companion’s eyes fluttered open at the taste of it. There was that red flash again. Lukas almost wanted to pull away, but the desire was too strong. He stayed entwined with the stranger in black. The danger of it, somehow made it more arousing. His companion broke away from their kiss and then Lukas could feel his lips on his neck. They were cold. How had he not noticed they were cold before? Then pressure on his neck. Then a sudden jolt of pain that evolved into a spasm of pleasure like a total body orgasm. What is this man doing to me? What is he? “Ooooh!” Lukas moaned to the black sky. Whatever he’s doing he could do it all night. Lukas’ hand was on the man’s chest and to his surprise he felt the pec muscles grow in his grasp. Was he flexing? No! Swelling! He was getting bigger. Lukas ran his hands over the stranger’s body again, under and over his clothes, as the man held his neck in his mouth. The biceps and triceps swelled, straining at the fabric of the leather jacket. They must have grown from 16 to 19 inches in the span of several seconds. The stranger’s lats flared like a cobra’s neck and his shoulders widened and rounded out, further testing the limits of his jacket. The man’s quads swelled, bumping into Lukas’ own skinny legs. The muscle was so hard. RIP! A seam, somewhere burst, standing no chance against his companion’s expanding frame. Lukas’ legs felt like strips of wet cardboard. His arms fell limp at his sides. His strength was being drained. His life-force. His blood! The only thing keeping him standing now was the strong arms of the creature in black. “Hey, Del!” Lukas heard a gruff voice call from up high. The creature released his neck and let him slip from his arms onto the filthy pavement of the alley. As he slid down the creature’s body, he could feel that its cock had finally become rock hard. Lukas’ limp body lay on the ground like a wet rag and darkness took ahold of him. His last sight, before closing his eyes, was of the sexiest muscle man he had ever seen staring down at him with a satisfied smile plastered across his pale face. A smile, that revealed two sharp canines, dripping red with blood. *** Delion wiped the blood from his mouth onto the sleeve of his jacket. He flexed his muscles and poked them, feeling sated. He wouldn’t have to eat again for several weeks, at least. Vargan jumped down off of the fire escape from which he had called Delion, disturbing his meal. The big man fell what must have been 50 feet and landed heavily on the pavement but was completely unhurt. “The fuck?” Vargan snapped, gesturing to Lukas. “Snacking at a time like this.” “I was hungry.” Vargan shook his head. He had long brown hair, down to his shoulders and a short beard. Beneath his XL grey hoodie, his muscular body was covered in hair. “And how much time did you waste hunting him, having your fun?” “A few hours,” Delion said. “Hardly a waste. Look at me.” He flexed, nearly bursting out of his cloths. Over the next few weeks he would grow smaller until his next feeding. “You couldn’t have been quicker about it?” Vargan said. “You act like you don’t realize how serious this situation is.” “Oh, believe me, I do.” Delion eyed Vargan, gravely. “That’s why I needed extra strength.” “Well, you sure as hell got it. You’re damn near as big as me, haha!” A familiar voice drifted in on the night air. Delion and Vargan turned to the entrance of the Alleyway and saw Bob Franco, the bodybuilder, approaching. His broad shoulders, thick arms and massive chest were pushing a navy-blue Henley to its limits. “This guy dead?” Bob gestured to Lukas. “No. I think Vargan stopped me just in time. I got a little carried away. Though he’ll need a hospital and quick.” Bob pulled out a burner cell phone, dialed 9-1-1, and placed the call. The bodybuilder was shorter than his friends with a wide head, square jaw and short sandy brown hair. “Let’s get a move on, before the ambulance gets here,” Vargan said. “We’ve wasted enough time already. There’s work to do.” “Always work to do,” Del said, running behind his friends. Hunting the forces of darkness. They were The Border Guard, defending the borders of our world from those that threatened the delicate balance between realms.

Hello all, this is my first time attempting to write some muscle growth in years, and my first time posting it here. I do hope you enjoy. Like Father, Like Son Part 1 The heatwave ground on, making the commute home uncomfortable to an almost unbearable level for Darren. Stuck in afternoon traffic on a Friday, with no air conditioning in his beat up old car, he could only roll down the windows and hope for a breeze. He grew more impatient the longer he had to sweat in the unrelenting heat. His anxiety became more pronounced when he looked at the soft cooler bag in the passenger seat. His chemistry professor had granted special permission to take chemicals off campus to work at home, but it would all be ruined if they were allowed to heat up too much. Darren had though that a bag of ice thrown in the cooler would be sufficient to get them home, but he hadn't counted on being stuck in traffic. All he could do now was hope he made it to the house before this entire weekends plan became a lost cause. Arriving home nearly an hour later, Darren peeled his sticky self out the cars vinyl seat and rushed inside, unzipping the cooler as he hastened to the fridge. The inside of the bag was lukewarm at best, the bag of ice now a bag of tepid water. The three closed containers of liquid had lost their chill. Darren placed them in the fridge anyway and slumped against the counter. He rubbed his sweaty forehead, pushing his unruly curls out of his eyes as he took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. The semester was going well, and he was really enjoying his chemistry classes in particular. Mr Jones was an engaging teacher, and Darren really didn't want to disappoint him after he'd granted Darren special permission to take materials off campus for the weekend. All Darren could do now was hope the things hadn't warmed up too much, and that the fridge would keep the concoctions stable. Darren set the cooler bag on the countertop, and reopened the fridge to pour himself a glass of cold water from the pitcher. He drained the glass in one long swig, and emptied the pitcher with a second pour, this time sipping the cool water, trying to bring down his body temperature. He felt slick with sweat, clothes clinging uncomfortably and chafing against his flushed skin. The heat was an omnipresent pressure this month, lingering over the city and making every activity a challenge. Darren could feel his pulse in his temples as he left the pitcher in the kitchen sink and sat down at the table. He needed to write a note to his dad letting him know to avoid the three glass containers in the fridge. They weren't harmful, but he did want to take at least some safety precautions. He reached for the pen and paper on the table then sat, head pounding, and stared blankly at the note pad. His phone buzzed before he picked up the pen, and Darren had to reply to his friends about weekend plans, texting back and forth multiple times in a minute, his classmates reminding him he'd promised to go out that night. Darren sat in a dazed torpor for several minutes looking blankly at his phone after the last message was sent. Then he forced himself to rise, grimacing at the sweat imprint he left on the chair, and went upstairs to nap and shower. Hopefully then he'd feel ready to go out for the night. His bedroom was, if possible, even hotter than the kitchen downstairs. Flopping on the bed, Darren pulled off his shirt and pants, leaving him clad in only his boxers. The bedside fan moved hot air across his body but did little to relieve the relentless heat. He lay there only a few moments before giving up and with an exasperated sigh heading to the bathroom. A cool shower first, to rinse away the sweat, and maybe a long soak in a cold bath after to escape the heat. These were the things that occupied his mind as he heard the sound of his fathers old truck pulling into the drive way. He didn't give it a second thought. Darren had his shower, putting the stopper in the bath before he finished and settled in for a long soak under the cool droplets. When he turned off the water, he lay back and closed his eyes, dozing as the bath helped draw the tension and heat from his body. He heard his Dad come upstairs and rummage around in his own room, then heard the creak of the steps announcing his descent back to the living room. Darren lay still in the bath listening to the quiet drip of water from the tap, breathing calm, mind clear, when suddenly he heard an alarmed yelp from his father downstairs. Darren sat up instantly, sloshing water out of the bathtub. He scrambled up, hearing more wordless exclamations from downstairs, and grabbed a towel and his underwear. Pulling them on still wet, he wrapped the towel around his waist and rushed from the bathroom, calling out as he descended the stairs. "Dad? Dad are you okay—" Darrens voice cut off as he rounded into the kitchen and stopped, staring nonplussed at his father. Darrens dad had always been a man of average height. Salt and pepper in his hair, but with a still mostly dark beard. A build that had been athletic in his youth but become a bit paunchy as he'd gone to seed in his middle age. The view that greeted Darren now though was of his father standing in the kitchen in tight clothing, looking down in alarm and surprise at Darren from his new height of nearly seven feet tall. Darren froze, looking up in shock. Darrens eyes took in his fathers height, standing taller than the refrigerator now. His plain t shirt had been pulled up, exposing his hairy stomach, and the sleeves were now so short as to be almost nonexistent, exposing his upper arms and shoulders. His pants showed similar strain, riding up around his calves and glued to the long limbs. Darren's father Lawrence looked down at him, breathing deeply, with a good deal of alarm in his voice. "Darren. Am I dreaming? W-why does everything look so short..." he trailed off, lifting his hand and looking at his longer forearm. Lawrence took a tentative step, shifting his weight as he stood up from leaning against the counter and cupboards. He seemed to rise even higher, nearly eight feet tall, and Darren realized his father had been hunched over the counter for support. Lawrence for his part seemed to be taking his bearings, the panic in his eyes relaxing as he adjusted to his new perspective. "Is this real?" Lawrence breathed. He reached out again, placing his hand on Darrens shoulder as if to confirm the presence of his son. "Dad! What happened to you? How did you grow so– so big!" Darrens mind was whirling as he looked up at his much taller father. Before they'd been of nearly equal height at five foot eight-ish, but now his father towered over him, head in danger of brushing the kitchen light. Darren felt almost like a child again. The change in perspective was extremely unexpected. "Did you eat or drink something weird today? Are you okay? Does it hurt?" "No, I'm not feeling any pain. It was just such... such a weird sensation," his Dad remarked slowly. Lawrence's hands moved to his torso, rubbing over his body as if still in disbelief. "If I'm honest," he said, voice becoming more confident as he stood a little straighter, "it feels pretty good. Your old man has grown into a giant!" he said, a grin breaking through his confused expression. Darren took a step back, surprised by the excitement in his fathers voice. His own heart was still beating rapidly and his hands shook as he reached out to take his fathers hand. A nagging thought was beginning to form in the back of his brain. "Dad, I'm glad you're okay, but we need to know what's happening. This is fucking insane. It's really important dad, what did you do differently today. Anything at all that would cause you to– to– to grow!" Lawrence looked down, and Darren was slightly intimidated by the frown that creased his fathers handsome features. 'Handsome? When have I ever called Dad handsome,' thought Darren. "Hey, I appreciate the concern son, but there's no need to sound that alarmed Darren. I think I could really grow to like this!" His father straightened up even further, placing his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out proudly, winking down at his son. His every motion was becoming more confident as he adjusted to his new stature. "I didn't do anything odd today. I went to work like usual, came home as usual, found you hogging the bathroom as usual." His eyebrows quirked in mild annoyance. "I wanted to have some cold water too cool off from this damn heat, but somebody left the empty pitcher sitting in the sink again. So I had some of your juice instead. Not very flavourful, I don't know why you like those energy drinks. And then, I just felt," Lawrence's eyes became unfocused and hazy as he tried to remember the sensation. "I felt dizzy, like vertigo, and then I was stretching up, the sink and counter were moving away from me, and that's when I must have called out..." Darren felt a shiver run down his spine, the goosebumps on his arms having little to do with damp skin exposed to the air. Juice? He didn't have any juice, the only thing in the fridge was... And then Darrens eyes fixed on a glass container sitting on the counter, half hidden behind his father. A glass jar with a faintly blue liquid, half drained from the level it had been when he'd placed it in the fridge. Darren felt his stomach drop, and he staggered backward, falling into a chair when his knees bumped the seat. He sat there shivering as his father looked down in concern. His father crouched down on one knee, big hands gripping Darrens shoulders as he gently shook Darren in alarm. "Darren? Darren, what is it son, are you okay?" Darren looked into his fathers concerned (and handsome?) face. "Dad. Dad I think I did something stupid and it did this to you." Darren felt his face flush with embarrassment and shame. "That 'juice' you drank wasn't juice, it was a chemical I brought home from the lab. I– I meant to leave a note, to label it, to make sure you didn't drink i– it. B– but it was supposed to be h– harmless, not do this!" Darren felt panicked, his heart throbbed in his chest as he realized how careless he'd been, how dangerous it could have been for his father. "Hey hey hey," said his Dad, "it's okay son. Nobody got hurt. That was a really dumb thing you did, but honestly? If this is the worst side effect? I'm actually pretty okay with it." Darren met his fathers eyes, face slack in shock. "What, I know you've started going to the gym on campus. Is your old man not allowed to want to be a little bigger too?" Lawrence chuckled, but Darren could feel the trembling in his fathers hands on his shoulders, and knew his Dad was putting on a brave face. "In fact, maybe I should take a little more, and REALLY break some records!" Darren gasped, almost falling from his chair, but his father stabilized him. Suddenly he realized the trembling in his fathers hands wasn't fear, it was excitement! He looked at his Dad, trying to push aside his guilt and really paying attention to his father. The gleam in Lawrence's eye, the grin on his still handsome face, the nervous tension thrumming through his bigger body. Darren felt an answering excitement throb in his underwear, and was glad for the towel still around his waist. "Dad, you shouldn't joke about that. We need to get you to a doctor or something, who knows what– Dad!!! Darren cried out in alarm as his father used his longer arm to swing open the fridge door and pull out a second glass container, this one full of faintly pink liquid. His father winked at him again as he flicked off the lid with a single large thumb. "Hey kiddo, you said yourself none of this stuff was supposed to hurt right? So why not live a little?" And in one smooth motion his father lifted the glass to his (bigger) lips and swallowed half the liquid in a single long gulp. Darren could only stare in shock, his mind refusing to believe what his father had just done. He had never thought of his father as the brightest man in the world, but he'd certainly never considered him the stupidest man either! Darren opened his mouth to give vent to his fear, his frustration, anything at all, but was forestalled when his father let out a loud burp and wiped his lips with a long forearm. "Whoops, sorry son. Looks like that one just made your old man a little gassy," his dad laughed. I didn't mean to... to..." His father trailed off, a strange expression crossing his face. He sank back into a half seated position, still on one knee, the other pressed up to his chest. "Dad. Dad! Are you okay? We need to call nine, one... one... oh God!" Darren felt his terror change so something else, something tingling and exciting deep in the pit of his stomach. He saw his own nervous trembling mirrored in his father, watching his fathers shoulders shake. Shake, and Grow! Lawrence's whole body was shivering, the look on his face somewhere between regret and a strange anticipation. As Darren watched, his fathers shoulders seemed to stretch wider. His torso pushed outward, shoulders expanding and tearing the remaining sleeves oh his t shirt. The leg propped up against Lawrences chest shivered, and Darren's eyes grew huge as he watched his fathers calf muscles begin to inflate like a balloon. A heavy, bulging, muscular balloon. The tight pants cut into Lawrences skin, threatening his circulation, before the cuff suddenly tore open with a thready popping sound. The seams of his too short pants began to tear along the leg as the muscle kept growing, and growing, Lawrence's muscular calf now thicker around than Darren's thighs! Darren's eyes were drawn back up to Lawrence's face by his deep panting, his face contorted with exertion and pleasure. Darren watched his fathers neck begin to flex and flare, growing bigger, thicker, wider. Veins stood out on the muscular column, veins that descended under the tight t shirt, visible through the clinging fabric. As Darren watched, the veins throbbed. And with every pump, he saw his fathers flat chest begin to pulse. Two flabby bulges began to shift and change shape, becoming blocky and square under the fabric. His fathers pecs. His Dad had Pecs! He reached to grab his Dad's shoulder, wanting to comfort him, steady him, but Darren pulled his hand back in shock when he felt intense heat radiating from his fathers body. He couldn't look away as his fathers pecs bounced. Flexed. Throbbed. Pumping bigger and bigger with masculine muscles. The thin shirt began to fold, developed a crease at the bottom of the chest, was rolled under Lawrences exploding pecs as the meaty muscles swelled up into two enormous muscular pillows that would have any bodybuilder drooling in envy. A snapping and tearing sound announced the end of Lawrences pants, the fabric tearing free as his quads burst into enormity, huge muscles exploding onto his legs much more rapidly than the growth of his chest. Darren rocked backward instinctively for room, chair hitting the wall behind him as his father let out a series of grunts. The leg against his chest was pushed forward as Lawrence's muscles fought for space. Lawrences foot slammed into the chair between Darrens legs, breaking it and causing Darren to fall seated onto his fathers ankle. He could feel the leg growing beneath him, getting thicker and more muscular, and Darren let out a moan, feeling his crotch swell in excitement. His father was growing into a giant muscular Stud! Shame warred inside Darren against the sexual thrill of watching the worlds tallest man grow into the worlds BIGGEST man. Darren felt sudden urges he hadn't known he possessed as he watched his Dad get bigger. Better. Manlier. Lawrence lifted one long slender arm, and both Darren and his father watched the muscles writhe beneath the skin like snakes, before beginning to bloat. The veins on Lawrences neck snaked down over his shoulder, and the deltoid of his right arm inflated to the size of a bowling ball, thick striations defining the muscle. The back of his arm ballooned into a football shaped mass, then continued swelling to twice that size. Meanwhile Lawrence's bicep was enlarging, the long muscle developing into a rope, then a thick cable, then into a swollen ball of muscle that kept throbbing larger, pressing against the powerful curve of Lawrence's chest. The forearm followed suit, large veins travelling down the limb to connect with Lawrence's hands. The muscles grew thicker and more powerful, forming a large wedge, slowly swelling until his forearm resembled a holiday ham. Lawrence's hand grew even larger, fingers thick and powerful, palms covered in heavy pads of muscle. The two men were so involved in watching Lawrence's right arm grow, they missed seeing the left inflate, grow, and enlarge to match. At least until some deep instinct caused Lawrence to raise his arms into a stunning double bicep flex, letting out a deep booming laugh as he did so. Darren felt himself cum in his underwear as he watched his Dad flex. He shot a load larger and more powerfully erotic than any he ever had perviously in his life. Panting and gasping, he watched his father grin and flex his biceps bigger, until the balls of muscle had inflated to the size of melons, bigger than Lawrence's head. Darren reached out, wanting to feel those muscles, to touch biceps bigger than any man had ever dreamed of having, but was foiled when his fathers chest gave another heave and DOUBLED in size, bursting through his shirt and slamming into Darrens hand. The feeling was electric. Darren got a kick from the energy coursing through his fathers body. His hand squeezed and kneaded the bulging muscle of its own accord, and Darren felt himself become aware of his fathers thickening body hair as new dark hairs erupted, his fathers already sexy chest becoming more so as the fur thickened over his chest, abs, and shoulders. Darren couldn't see but assumed those hairs carried on down his father back. And what a back! As Lawrence continued to flex, his lats swelled up thicker and wider, pushing his already broad shoulders even farther apart. The heat radiating off Lawrences body intensified as the already roasting kitchen became an oven of heady pheromones and masculine musk. With a loud roar Lawrence flexed every muscle in his body and then collapsed over his knee. The seated muscle giant breathed like a bellows, gasping in great lungfuls of air as the veins criss-crossing his body slowly shrank, sinking into the powerful curves and swells of his father's muscles. A body nearly as wide at the shoulders as his own height. A body that dwarfed Darren and made him feel like a child. A body that fully and utterly aroused him. For several minutes Darren didn't dare to move. He remained seated on his fathers leg, trying not dwell on how amazingly Thick and Strong that leg felt beneath him, or how large his fathers foot was behind him. He watched as his father slowly unfolded the other leg, that simple motion sending the new masses of Lawrences body into a rippling, bulging dance. Lawrence slowly lifted his head from where it rested on his two engorged pecs, and weakly grinned at Darren. "Okay son. Maybe I should have thought that through a little bit harder." Darren shivered at how deep and powerful his muscle giant fathers voice had become, and detected a similar ripple down Lawrences spine as he heard his own voice. Darren watched his father carefully reach out and slide his hands under Darrens arms, and felt himself lifted off his fathers leg and set gently on the kitchen table. Darren couldn't even think of resisting, his brain fogged by hormones, pheromones, and in a deep dark place inside himself, lustful envy. His father placed one broad hand on his knee, and with a grunt lurched to his feet. Darren saw his father stagger, unused to his new mass, and reached out to steady him. Only to have his hands slam into hard, unyielding muscle that pushed back and nearly knocked him from the table. He let go, holding his breath and holding his towel over his lap as his cock sprang once again to full hardness. He watched his father, a man who so recently Darren had been slightly taller and fitter than, tower over him. Lawrence's full height remained eight feet, but beyond that he was nearly unrecognizable. The friendly face, the salt and pepper hair, the dark trimmed beard were still there, but to all this there was a new more masculine glamour. Lawrence's hair was thicker for a start. Still greying, but thicker. His beard now covered a wider and more muscular jawline. His face was still familiar, still affable, but all his features were just somehow more muscular. From the chin down, his father was an Adonis. Heck, Adonis didn't come close, he was Herculean. Broad shoulders almost six feet wide blocked the view of the kitchen behind him, supporting two arms each bigger than Darren's whole body. His large, almost voluptuously full pecs bulked out from his torso, casting a shadow over his tight six pack, nipples pointing straight down due to the incredible fullness of his chest. Pointing down towards a narrow waist that only accentuated the vast width of his shoulders. His father, Darren suspected, didn't have a "V" shaped back, but more likely a "Y" shape as his lats winged out from the strong central trunk of his torso. Darren was amused to see that somehow his fathers black boxer shorts remained intact, clinging to the broad curves of his redwood thighs. He let out a small uncontrollable giggle, clapping his hand over his mouth to keep the hysteria he was feeling firmly inside. His father didn't seem to notice, busy as he was also looking down and staring at his own body. Lawrence thrust forward one leg gingerly, and began to shift and flex the muscles in his thighs. They bulged and swelled obligingly, rocking above his powerful knee, and the calf muscle, when flexed, bulked out even more aggressively if such a thing were possible. Darren was both relieved and embarrassed to see that his father, this mountain of power and rising confidence, was also rock hard in his underwear, and one hand was trying to unobtrusively shield that bulge from his son's eyes, even as the other hand was flexing and straining, making his forearm dance. A low rumbling filled the kitchen, rattling Darren's bones. He soon realized it was his father, letting forth a low giggle that rose up into a burbling and then hearty laugh. His laughter filled the kitchen as he raised both arms again, house rattling as he flexed and posed, showing of his new unimaginable and Godly size. "But then again," rumbled Lawrence's new more powerful voice, "thinking through my actions wouldn't have made me into this! Look at your old man son! I'm a giant! A real damn muscle GIANT!" Darren looked up in awe at Lawrence, watching the light and shadow shift over his bulging muscles, showing his serrated obliques. His father attempted to look over his own shoulder, presumably to see his back, but couldn't due to the thickness of his neck and size of his boulder shoulder. "How do I look from the back son? Do I look as wide as in front?" Darren gulped as his father turned around. His back was a crazed map of shifting and folding striations. Deep valleys and large rolling plains of muscle twitched and shifted as Lawrence tried posing, gaining confidence with every motion as he rapidly adjusted to his new mass. But Darrens eyes were drawn inexorably to the large and powerful globes of his fathers ass. Before his Dad had been just as flat in the back as Darren, but now his ass was huge and powerful, flexing deliciously inside their tight black cotton confines, the expanse of glute visible above the waistband and from the sides dusted with the perfect amount of body hair, as was all of his fathers back. His father turned around again, face excited as he looked down into his sons eyes. "Well Darren, don't just sit there staring! Tell your old man how he looks! In fact, get up here and give me a hug!" Before Darren could voice a word in protest his fathers large arms swooped down and lifted him up into the most powerful, most masculine smelling bearhug he'd ever experienced. Thick hairy pecs pressed against his face, alternatively rock hard or firm yet yielding as his father flexed and relaxed. Darren's body hummed with an electric thrill as he felt his fathers massive arms press against his back, crushing his legs against his fathers abs and thighs. He could also feel his fathers large erection pressing into his thighs, and knew his Dad must feel his own rock hard shaft against those cobbled abs. Indeed, his father soon released him, gently setting Darren back on his feet, huge platter sized hands gripping his sons shoulders gently. Looking up Darren saw his father blushing, reaching up to rub the back of his head bashfully. The mountainous bicep flex this caused seemed to turn them both on, if the throb Darren noticed in his fathers underwear could be trusted. "Ah, sorry about that Sport. Guess your old man is, uh, really enjoying himself. But can you blame me?" Lawrence asked, lowering his arm and making his pecs bounce, the muscles so huge and heavy they made an audible thumping noise when they flexed against each other. "Dad, I– I'm not sure what to feel right now. I mean, look at you! What just happened to you! You, you're huge! And sexy! And enormous! And i'm still just–, I mean, I'm stunned!" Darren finished somewhat lamely, trying to hide his envy as he looked up at the biggest, most massive man in the world. He'd been attracted to men his whole life, but never like THIS! He didn't know if he wanted his father, or wanted to BE him, and the confusion was taking a toll on his mind and body. The shaking in his hands was infecting his whole body, and he crossed his arms and sat back into a chair, trying to control his shivering. His Dad meanwhile was still looming above him, and he could hear the grin in Lawrences voice as his old man spoke. "Oh, you think your father is sexy now do you? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't turning myself on too!" he said proudly. Darren saw two fingers move into view and gently lift his chin up to look at his fathers face. "Nothing to be ashamed about son. Jealousy is a perfectly normal emotion. I've been jealous of my friend Carl's body for years, I just never had the time or commitment to go to the gym regularly and put the work in." His father flexed and bounced his pecs, grinning again. "I think Carl is going to be the one feeling jealous next time I see him though. It's going to be fun putting these muscles to use!" The whole time he was speaking, Darren couldn't help but notice his fathers erection bouncing and flexing inside his underwear. As he looked he saw a bead of pearlescent pre ooze out of the tip of his fathers shaft before being absorbed by the black cotton underwear. Darren shivered again and lowered his face, blushing furiously and clutching his aching stomach. Darren sat like that another minute while his giant Dad lumbered around the kitchen, making the floor squeak and rattle under his heavy footsteps. He heard the fridge door open, saw his fathers huge ass flexing even more hugely as Lawrence bent over to peer inside. Darren closed his eyes again, and didn't open them until a creaking groan next to him announced his father sitting carefully on another kitchen chair. Darren heard two glass thumps on the table. Opening his eyes, he saw his father looking eagerly at him. And he saw two glass containers half filled with pink and blue liquid sitting on the table before him. His eyes went wide and his mouth went dry. "So," said his Dad. "You ready to grow up like your old man?"

I dusted off an old, partially written story (I have many of them) and added a second chapter (and a few more). Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue. The Storm Chapter 1 The storm was coming. Even though the forecasts and long range models still drew diverging pathways on the maps, and the meteorologists still spoke in percentages and probabilities, I could tell this storm was headed straight toward me. I also knew that where I lived and the beach where I loved to surf was going to take a full force hit. The outcome had already been determined, and only I knew with one hundred percent certainty what that outcome was going to be. Although the tropical depression was still days away from becoming a full fledge hurricane, and although it was at least a week away in distance, I could already feel it in the water, and I could feel it coursing through my body. Strength was building – both the storm’s intensity and my own. Last night’s invigorating midnight swim and dreams that followed as well as the more than usual abundance of the flesh in my morning hard-on were proof enough to me. Fuck! It felt good,… and it was big… bigger than before. The flesh was hard as any steel, and now it more than filled my hand. To boot, to the rhythm of my pleasure, my nutsack slapped against my thighs with more force than I recalled. My balls were fuller, bigger. I raised my fist and flexed my biceps as I continued jacking with my other hand. The muscle mounded up round and large and full. It wasn’t huge yet, but it was bigger than before, and large enough to make me gasp in self-appreciation. Fuuuck! I felt a tingling in my cock and in my balls. Power. I felt the power, and suddenly the strength was more than I could stand. I thrust my left hand to the base of my erection and stroked the nob and remaining seven inches with my right, abandoning my flex to coax the storm within me. My hard-on surged within my hand, and I could feel the tension building. Waves of pleasure caressed my ass and balls and perineum. It became too much, and I arched my back and felt my glutes and hamstrings cramp with pleasure. In anticipation, my entire body flexed, and I felt my muscles growing. The wave of tension built within me, and I inhaled and held a breath so large that I thought it might explode my chest, but my ribcage held together. Then I felt the second phase. The wave was cresting, and I knew the thrill was coming. I felt my sphincter spasm and my balls draw up as semen filled the reservoirs within my prostate. I shut my eyes shut so tight that I couldn’t pry them open, but I didn’t need to see in order to experience the vision in my mind. My body was expanding, just a bit for now, but more was coming. This moment before I came was all potential, and despite how much I loved the anticipation thrill, I knew the best was yet to come, and then it happened. My cock expanded in my hands as the wave of pleasure crashed upon me. My body shook, and I roared with pleasure as the motherload of all ejaculations vaulted ropes of white, hot cum from deep within my pelvis up my shaft and through the air in all directions. I lost my sense of being as I tumbled through the abyss of bliss. I smelled the ocean in the air and tasted its salty essence on my lips. It splashed across my face and chest and pooled between the ridges of my belly. The intensity was mind-blowing, and my orgasm lasted longer than expected, but in the end, the power of the wave dispersed and was replaced by a tranquil relaxation that deposited me breathless and tangled in my sheets. Exhausted, I relaxed completely on my bed and felt the force of gravity against my increased mass, the mattress pushing harder against my back and glutes and limbs, the heft of my cock and balls weighing more substantially upon my thighs. I could feel the force and power. I was bigger,… and I was stronger,… and I was going to grow again. The coming storm was my assurance, and it was going to be more powerful and destructive than anyone yet knew. Chapter 2 The vibration of my phone against the nightstand was enough to rouse me from my slumber. It was a text from Billy: Dawn Patrol That was it. Nothing else -- but nothing else was needed. The surf was rising, and “dawn patrol” meant that although the sun had not yet crested the horizon, Billy was headed for the water. Sand was probably already pushing up between his toes, board leashed to his left ankle, eyes fixed on the horizon, sensing, anticipating. I rolled on my side and looked out the window of my beachfront shack which was perched on stilts, just high enough to see the sandy beach beyond the dunes. A lone surfer’s silhouette against the sherbet dawn jogged across the sand, board held high. It was Billy. He wanted to catch a few good rides before the break filled with every Benny, Barney and Kook who would never be good enough to deserve the kind of break that was right out my window. Billy was a disciple of the sea. He lived for the ocean and the waves, and both of them were calling. I looked to the water beyond his silhouette, and my heart pumped. With the coming storm, the swell was gaining size and strength, and the curls were peeling in perfect, long, slow barrels with nothing but glassy water in-between. It was a surfer’s wet dream, and at least for now it was mine and Billy’s, ours alone. The ocean beckoned, and we were obligated to respond. I rolled out of bed and stepped into my favorite board shorts. As I pulled them up my muscled thighs, I couldn’t help but notice that they were tighter. My quads and hamstrings now strained against the cloth, making it hard to hoist them into place. I worked the fabric up and over the thickness of my glutes and had to strain to pull the waist up high enough to settle into place along the narrow of my lower back. I relaxed and exhaled loudly thinking that I had achieved my goal. But then I realized that when it came time to seal the deal, there was just no room left for my amped up bait and tackle. While the storm was gaining size and strength, so too was I. I could feel the power building, manifesting itself in me as strength and size. I felt the need to exert myself, to dominate - to lift something or crush something or fuck something, but there was nothing in my shack to foot the bill. I picked up the dumbbells by my bed, but they were only 35 pounders - inadequately light; so I did next what came most naturally to me. I flexed. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose, and I flexed hard, squeezing every muscle in my body with all my might, concentrating all my energy into the flex and luxuriating in the erotic pain and pleasure of my muscles cramping as they struggled one against the other. Feeling the tightness of the boardshorts against my by glutes and thighs, I sent more effort below my waist, flexing even harder, willing my legs and ass to grow. The fabric tightened, at first snuggly caressing every curve and hollow and then constricting with discomfort. I took a breath and changed my pose to a crushing most muscular pose, and I flexed harder than I had flexed in my entire life. My body shook with effort, and the glow of perspiration turned into beads of sweat that converged into rivulets of moisture that began to flow into the valleys between my bulging muscles. I crunched down even harder, stomping my foot against the floor, concentrating my efforts in my lower body and waiting for the moment when my trunks would split. But no matter how hard I flexed and twisted, I couldn’t cause the cloth to rip. It enraged me, and in one final blinding effort, I flexed with all my might, and I felt the fabric give. I had destroyed my boardshorts, and, I felt like I had won. I knew right then that from now on I would always win. I was Samson, Hercules and Poseidon all rolled up into one, and I would never be defeated. I relaxed my flex and surveyed the situation. The board shorts were ripped in no less than seven places. To say that they had merely ripped was to understate the situation. They had exploded! To cause such damage, I must have had a substantial growth spurt all at once. I caught my breath and admired the increased mass of muscle in my thighs, and then I noticed that my hands were also larger and that my forearms were twitching, muscular and swollen. I clenched my fists and rolled my wrists, marveling as the muscle bellies bulged. I then relaxed and I rolled my fingers, delighting as the individual muscles danced and flexed in a ballet upon my forearm. My vision traveled north, and when it reached my upper arms, I was unprepared for the effect the bulging muscle would have upon my loins. I bent my elbow slowly, and the unflexed biceps bunched and rounded as the triceps lengthened fully. My dick responded harder than it had ever been. It throbbed as I cast my eyes upon the mirror. In my ripped board shorts, my newly enlarged, pumped body bulging with strength and power and glistening with sweat, I looked like some amped up comic book hero – lean, heavily muscled and strong. I crossed my wrists at the level of my waist, and my thickened pecs flexed and thickened in striated glory. Then my arms began the slow, erotic, upward arc that I knew would end in a stunning double biceps pose, the likes of which I’d never seen. Something flipped a switch in me. My mind was focused, and a flurry of image fantasies flashed before my mind’s eye. Samson, Heracles, Poseidon. Muscle, Size, Power. That was all I wanted, and I could feel it all amassing in my body as I flexed. My vision cleared, and a gazed upon my reflection in the mirror. No longer a Marvel hero. I was a god! Big and strong and proud and proud. My hard-on looked enormous, and my ball sack bulged with its twin egg-sized cargo. The seed of deities flowed withing me, and finally it was more than I could handle. I stared at my reflection, the embodiment of maleness, strength and power, and I increased the effort of my flex and thrusted my pelvis forward. The dam was breaking. I could feel the anticipatory tingle around my ass and perineum and then the near panic as my ejaculatory reservoirs filled with semen. Finally, I was overcome with the erotic hammer of ejaculation and white, hot ropes for cum arced across the room, painting the mirror and my reflection with liquid adulation. Fuck! It had never felt so good, and with the pleasure came a cramping in my muscles that I knew would make me grow again. Intoxication of the pleasure overwhelmed me, crippling my mind and body. My flex began to fail, and I dropped one arm and wrapped my hand around my hardon and felt another bolt of pleasure. Before the first orgasm had fully ended, I stroked twice, and came again in spasms, more violent than before. When it ended, I was spent, and the drive to flex and fuck and cum subsided, if only for a while. For a moment, I was satiated, weak and breathless. I crumpled to the bed beside me and milked a few last few drops of glistening cum from my softening erection. I tasted the elixir, and its salty essence reminded of the ocean and how it called me. I was exhausted, but I knew the water would revive me. I needed the ocean, waves and water. I craved the power of the storm.

Evan was your average 19 year old. First year of college, studying geology and about to embark on their first field trip to look at... you guessed it, rocks. Evan was reasonably clever, but physically was nothing spectacular. He wasn't stick thin, runt and tried to gym but as a student, he just couldn't afford all the food and supps he'd need to bulk up so, he'd began looking at other methods that could help him. When scrolling online, looking at weird and wonderful websites, most filled with absolute rubbish about magic crystals - something caught his eye. "The God Stone" To Evan this sounded like something out of a role playing, power fantasy but... he loved that shit so decided to have a read. "The God Stone is a lost artifact said to have all the powers of a dying diety. Allowing the possessor to have near omnipotent powers." "That's the dream" thought Evan. "Then I wouldn't have just have the size I want... I'd be all powerful." The thought turned him on, after all, his quest to grow bigger was all because he wanted to feel more powerful. Have others look at him in awe... and this, would be more than he'd dare to dream "The God Stone was rumoured to be cast in the Green Acre Quary..." "No." Evan thought to himself. "That's where we're goin on the field trip tomorrow. Someone's having a joke with me." Though he didn't see how that could be the case. The website article was old, and was written before he'd even came to college. "The Stone will transfer all power to the possessor until the possessor touches the ston again, at which time they can transfer the power back" "Hrmmm, why would anyone want to do that", thought Evan. "But then, if this is true, someone clearly gave up their powers" If it's true - HA! He was kidding himself. In his dreams and fantasies maybe. He clicked the computer on to standby and climbed in to bed. Putting the God Stone out his mind. But he couldn't. His dreams were filled with the stone. The idea if him touching it and his class looking on. Evan turning in to a giant God before them. Striking last and awe and fear in to every one of them... "Buzzzz" - his alarm interrupted his Godlike fantasy. Evan woke with a start feeling aroused and then disappointed. He got ready but before leaving, had one last look at the article. Someone had added an artists description of the stone. A brilliant Ruby almost looking like the shape of a flame. Practically sparkling. Someone in the comments had recently added. "Done some historical digging, there's a cave behind a cluster of loose rocks marked on the image below. If what I've read is right, this would be where the stone would be. I'd go look for it myself but I'd rather see someone who really knows how to use the powe get it." "Hrmmm" thought Evan. "Why would you not want it for yourself." But then he thought of the time he had met and worshipped a bodybuilder and thought he did see the appeal in worshipping someone more powerful. However, if he had the stone... he knew he'd want the power for himself.... maybe show some off to Mr Helpful comment as a thanks. He got ready to head out. And although he knew it was ridiculous. Although he knew it was farfetched. He knew he was going to try and find that cave...

I had to overcome my Catholic guilt writing this one. Haha. I always wanted to write something from my culture and took this season as an opportunity. For many of us, whether we believe in it or not, religion is a cultural thing. Anyway, enjoy! Merry Christmas! PART 1 It was the middle of December, and Joshua Figueroa still felt groggy from the overlong flight from Heathrow to NAIA and from the two-hour bus ride to his hometown in Urreta. His father Domingo had failed to meet him in Manila. “The car broke down,” Domingo said. But Joshua knew that the old man would rather tend to his fighting roosters than inconvenience himself for his own flesh and blood. “You’re a big boy,” he called earlier. “I’m sure you can get home before dinner.” Domingo’s words proved true that afternoon when he heard his son’s footsteps coming from the wooden staircase leading to the antesala. There at the doorway of the comedor, with luggage in hand, stood a 5-foot 7-inch and 200-pound muscle bound man. “You grew.” Domingo sipped his hot chocolate which Felicidad had brought him earlier. “Of course. I wasn’t writing all the time.” The truth was, Joshua got depressed living solo as a graduate student at King’s College. Sure, the abundance of knowledge and the prestige he could get nowhere else first attracted the 140-pound man when he had stepped inside the university. But he realized later that he needed variety in his life, away from the dusty halls and dreadful conversations too common in his field. And so he used the scant time he had working out. He only wanted to blow some steam off initially. But the next thing he knew, he was putting more hours in the gym, lifting heavier weights, and gaining more quality muscle. And to prove to himself how serious he was, he hired a personal trainer named Liam who got him access to gear. “You should compete,” Liam said. “Your proportion and symmetry are to die for. If you diet down hard enough, you could place.” “I’ll think about it.” The new Joshua surprised his peers and advisers. They could not fathom how he even found time to build a phenomenal body when papers were demanding to be written. Joshua suspected that they secretly blamed his mediocrity to his lack of sacrificial dedication to the academe. But the call of the iron and the pump had already caught his heart. At least one man other than himself enjoyed his new body. As soon as he landed in Manila, Ethan called for a brief meet up over coffee. “You look like you ate yourself whole. I like it,” Ethan said, sipping his cappuccino. Merlinda, the town chandler, also said something of the like when he arrived in the cemetery to visit his mother’s grave. Such comments boosted his confidence, a little reminder that he had gone beyond that lanky kid who would ruin the game for his teammates. But there he was now, in the Figueroa ancestral house, standing before his father who kept talking about the time he lifted weights in the 70s. Joshua slept the whole afternoon and woke up late into the night. Felicidad had left him a dinner of chicken tinola which she herself cooked after Domingo’s favorite rooster lost. He devoured the lukewarm meal. He went back to bed, but he found it hard to sleep. His body was still getting used to the eight-hour difference. He wondered how he can survive this sleepy town. His friends in high school only consisted of the members of the chess club, and they had all found work abroad. He was basically setting himself up for a lengthy, unproductive holiday. But Manila was too terrible a city to offer a better alternative. Earlier that morning, inside that small comfort room in the café, Ethan was kissing his pecs and caressing his biceps. His fingers were tracing the details of his washboard abs down to his hardening cock. Seconds later, the smaller man was ramming his ass, reminding Joshua who the boss really was. At the end of the day, Ethan had powerful friends who could take Joshua to places. “See you in a few days,” Ethan said after their quick session. “The guys wanted a get-together. Carla suggests we discuss Philippe Léandre’s new work on post-humanism. But it’s Christmas, and who’s in the mood for that?” He kissed Joshua goodbye. The sound of church bells cut his thoughts short. He checked his phone. It was 4:30 in the morning. He slid the capiz shell window open and watched a familiar scene. The baroque Urreta church dominated the plaza mayor. In its yard stood a nativity scene, its manger still left empty. Cars, tricycles, and jeepneys sounded their horns to signal the arrival of the faithful. Paról or star-shaped lanterns lit every tree in the plaza where gathered the town’s families, couples, musicians, and street food vendors. It was the 16th of December, the first of the Misas de Aguinaldo or the nine Masses celebrated each early morning before Christmas Day. None of the Figueroas were religious, save for Joshua’s mother who took the burden of lighting a candle for her unbelieving relatives. Joshua used to attend such Masses with her because she would reward him afterwards with an ice cream bun and a bag of bibingka or baked rice cake. A brass band would play carols in the plaza grandstand. He would play with the street kids before his mother would call him to help her carry the bags from the market. These things made up his childhood memories of the season, different from those of his British peers who talked of Father Christmas and roast chicken and snow. Joshua got up to get dressed. If he could not sleep, he might as well do something else. He opened his grand wardrobe for some decent church clothes. He told his father to have Felicidad wash them before he arrived. But he realized just now that none of them fit him anymore. Nevertheless, he tried on his small PE shirt. Its sleeves just ripped off his arms before he even put the rest of the shirt over his head. He smirked, thinking how big he had become. He opened his luggage and took out some jeans and his favorite Nirvana t-shirt. He then saw himself topless in the wardrobe mirror. He smiled. His body looked magnificent. His eyes feasted on his broad shoulders, his bulging arms and pecs, the supple lines and curves crisscrossing his torso, all visible under the moon and lantern lights. He got hard in seconds. But his brief vanity gave way to the sound of the bells. He changed quickly and walked out of the house. He let the cool air hit his body as he strolled across the plaza. He let the smell of steamed glutinous rice and coconut milk fill his nostrils. The kids were already up, singing Christmas carols and asking strangers for some spare coins. When they saw Joshua, they flexed their arms. He flexed back and let them touch his 19-inch biceps. The town was full of life, and all the misery in the world vanished like vapor. Joshua felt like a kid again. He wished he could feel like one forever. The church was packed. Joshua came in later than most, so he had no choice but to stand up in the aisles during the whole service. He could force himself in the pews, but he knew he would take up too much space that could have been given for a grandma and her little girl. The pipe organs resounded. “Veni, veni, Emmanuel!” chanted the choir up the loft. Incense invaded Joshua’s nostrils and sent his soul to the holy of holies. And there in the wide nave, walked with utmost devotion, the ministers, acolytes, lectors, priests, and finally, the monseñor. One of the priest had a deep set of eyes which made his face a handsome one when in a good mood and a tired one when not. This time, the gauge turned to “Tired.” Joshua thought he looked familiar, and so he rummaged the obscure parts of his memories. He failed. He leaned against the pillar, letting the ceremony and the prayers pass by his consciousness. He had been dozing off from time to time. Finally his body was begging for a good rest. “Go in peace,” said the monseñor. Joshua came round from his deep slumber. The faithful who were moving out quickly while the choir was rushing through the recessional hymn. Joshua rubbed his eyes and yawned. He walked over to the side chapels by the church door where people were lighting candles and saying a few prayers to a myriad of holy images. One that caught his attention was a statue of a Dominican priest holding a ciborium in one hand and a statue of the Virgin in the other. The pedestal bore the name San Jacinto de Polonia, Urreta’s patron saint. “Making a wish, Josh?” He turned around. Before him approached the padre with a familiar face. He was two inches taller than Joshua. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt tucked into black slack pants, both oversized and made him look skeletal. His face screamed exhaustion. “Josh? Figueroa?” “Padre!” “Please, just Gío would be fine. Gío Castañeda? San Alberto Magno High School?” And then it him. Did he use play basketball? Was he that close friend of jock star Harrison Alvarez? “Oh, yes! Gío!” “Wow, man! You’ve gotten really big. How much can you bench?” A middle-aged woman approached the padre. She was carrying an image of the Santo Niño which looked too heavy for her little frame. She pressed her forehead on the padre’s hand and asked him to bless her statue of the Child Jesus. “Of course, Tita Tess. I’ll be in the grotto.” Tita Tess smiled and left. “It’s good to meet you here, Josh,” Gío said. “But I need to go. Duty awaits. See you!” He smiled and walked through the left aisle followed by more women carrying their icons, rosaries, and prayer books. Joshua noticed that the padre had a slight limp. He thought of Gío’s handsome face which triggered in him an unnamable desire. He brushed it aside. He was in a holy place after all. He turned his gaze back to San Jacinto. People said that if you complete all the nine Misas de Aguinaldo, your wish will come true. He never believed an ounce of it, but it sure filled the church to the brim during the holidays. He dropped a five-peso coin on the box that stood beside a jar of candles. He took one candle and lit it at the foot of San Jacinto. He rubbed his fingers on saint’s robes and made a sign of the cross. He then walked home, eager for a good sleep.

This place isn’t a club; it’s a hunting ground. At least, that’s the chief thought that runs through Sean’s head as he slinks into the bar with cat-like grace. He has a crooked smile on his face as he thanks the bouncer that lets him in - there’s no waiting in line for him any more, he’s practically part of the furniture here - then scans the crowd for new faces. One place he differs from his feline counterparts, however, is his choice of prey. He’s not looking for something tiny to pester and toy with. He’s in the market for something bigger. Much bigger. At 5’5”, and with a slim though toned frame, you’d hardly think he’d have the swagger to own the place. Yet he struts across the dancefloor like it all the same, receiving smiles - some warm, some false, several nervous - from those that recognize him. Today he’s decided on a more understated look - a simple tank top that cuts off at his midriff, exposing his flat but not ripped stomach, a pair of jeans and some comfortable shoes. Very few people are taken in by it though, his reputation well and truly proceeding him, and for good reason. This man is dangerous. His little tour around the club, taking stock of his kingdom, takes him inevitably upstairs and to the bar. It was always a packed affair, and he usually had people to go and queue for him - but today was different. Because standing at the bar, he had found his quarry. Sean was a man who felt he had seen it all and done it all and, due to his particular circumstances, he’d certainly done a lot more than most others. But as his eyes fall upon the individual waiting patiently for his turn at the bar, they can’t help but widen in surprise. He just hoped they weren’t bigger than his belly. The man is gigantic, and not just in a way that feels that way to the diminutive Sean. He’s gigantic in a way that stands head and shoulders above everybody around him. In a way that makes him broader than anyone close - huge burly muscles clearly visible through the near-transparent white shirt that fails valiantly at covering his tapering torso. His thick arms, bared to the bar, look thicker than Sean’s legs. The man’s jeans stretch to almost paper-thin across impossible quads, his long legs bulk outward to support his impressive frame. He was easily the biggest person Sean had ever encountered; and given his disposition, Sean had encountered several large people. His mind boggles at the possibilities. And yet, for all that size and power, which the attention of the club around him like a black hole, there's a softness to the man. He's by no means fat - every muscle on his frame is displayed with prominence in spite of any painted-on clothing. But they looked pliable, like freshly risen dough, and it took Sean a considerable amount of self-control to resist walking straight up and sinking his fingers in. But soft, too, is the expression on his face. Under a small curtain of dark brown hair, his eyes survey the bar around him with curiosity, and a patient smile plays across his lips. Sean catches himself, closing his mouth and instinctively checking that nobody had clocked him. They hadn't. All eyes in this part of the bar are fixed on the seemingly oblivious giant. The anonymity it grants him is almost refreshing; almost. But he steels the bitter sting of jealousy with one thought; they've seen nothing yet. He approaches. The size of the man was halting from a distance, but from this close, Sean's brain is put into eddying circles. He barely reaches the man's armpits, and he cranes his neck upward; that same, steady smile is fixed there, not noticing the smaller man. Well this was embarrassing. Sean considers clearing his throat, but there's no guarantee the sound would even carry the distance up to the man's ears given the volume of the music in here. Instead he stands close and, spotting the man's hands resting patiently on the bar, reaches forward. Their forearms rest against each other as Sean weedles his slender fingers between the man's much larger digits, the difference in their respective sizes immediately telling. "Excuse me, sir? Sorry, but it seems you've mistakenly put your hand on mine." Sean had been staring into the middle distance, playing coy and pretending not to notice the titan next to him. The man's voice is surprising, less bass-y than he expected but with enough power to carry his otherwise soft tone over the noisy bar. When Sean does turn to once again invoke vertigo by looking up at the man, he finds the patient smile is still present, though this time it's marred by a slightly cocked eyebrow, as genuine concern seeps from every pore. "Did I? How clumsy of me," Sean responds, without hint of an apology, nor moving his hand. "Have you been waiting long?" "Just ten minutes or so. But it's fine, there's a lot of thirsty people here," The man said, shooting another confused look at their hands, but not saying anything. "10 minutes? Sounds like you need the VIP treatment. You strike me as a beer guy, am I right?" Sean asks. "Yes - well, sometimes. I normally don't drink alcohol at all, but it's a nice change from time to time," the man responds awkwardly. "Well, they've got something better than beer here..." Sean says, before leaning over and gesturing to a barmaid that catches his eye. "What's that?" "Free beer." The drinks arrive within seconds, and the barmaid leaves without another word. Sean hands the man a glass, near overflowing with the cold, amber liquid. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly! Here." He takes his hand away from the bar, and reaches into his jeans pocket. Sean isn't quite sure how he found space to actually store anything - perhaps they're bigger on the inside? - but he somehow manages to withdraw a wallet, from which he tries to push a crumpled note into the smaller man's hands. Sean moves his palms into the air like a gun is being pointed at him. "Keep your money!" He laughs, refusing to accept it, "You can always get the next one." "The next one?" That confused look is back on his face - it's kind of cute, Sean admits. "After you drink these with me," he says, sucking a small amount of his own drink through its straw, "Part of the VIP treatment is getting to spend time with other VIPs, don't you know. Name's Sean." "Peter," the large man acting on instinct and offering his hand. Sean doesn't miss his opportunity and takes it, his own quickly enveloped by the soft warm flesh. "Are you here alone? I am..." He says softly, still revelling at the feeling of this huge paw. "No, I'm here with my brother - “ He looks around him and gestures vaguely towards a balcony overlooking this floor below, but his arm quickly falls by his side. David had been there just a moment ago, talking to a young woman the two of them had run into, but now that he looks there’s no trace of him. “-or at least I was.” “You’d think he’d be easy to spot,” Sean says, still staring at their hands. “Why?” This breaks his gaze once more, but again there’s nothing but innocence and confusion on the big man’s face. “Because if there’s any family resemblance at all, he’ll be sticking out head and shoulders above everyone else in the room?” Sean hazards, not quite trusting his apparent sincerity. -zip- Peter pulls his hand away from Sean’s instinctively. He feels… something. He wasn’t sure what - it was almost like a static shock, but not painful. Just a small crack of something in his hand, followed by a warm feeling that spreads through his nervous system. He freezes for a moment, then shakes his head, as if regaining his bearings. “Oh, um, no - he’s not as tall as me. Not since I was, like, 12? I’m sure he’s around somewhere though.” “Well, why don’t you keep me company until he comes back? A little guy like me could certainly use someone like you to keep an eye on him…” Sean says, appealing to his ego. “Aha, well, I’m not sure what to say…” Peter says, an embarrassed smile spreading over his face, a pair of deep dimples sinking into his cheeks. He lifts his arm up and scratches the back of his head nervously, causing Sean to almost drool as he stares at the peak that forms there. It looks bigger than his head, surely that poor sleeve can’t take much more. SHHHHHHRRRRPPPPP As if by magic, a tear forms slowly at first, then rapidly stretches up the length of the sleeve almost to the armpit. Peter drops his arm in alarm - this isn’t the first time he’d destroyed an item of clothing, but this shirt was new-on tonight. It had been tight - everything was tight on him - but surely it wasn’t that precarious? “I’m s-so sorry!” He stammers, seemingly mortified at this display of his absolute size, “I promise I wasn’t trying to show off, or anything! Really, I should be more careful-” “Hey, hey, hey - there’s nothing to apologise for! It’s got to be tough being built like you,” Sean says soothingly, reaching forward to stroke Peter on the arm, his eyes lingering on the shredded shirt for just a moment, “If you’re worried about causing a scene though, why don’t you come with me? We can find a quiet little booth out of the way, but still keep our eyes on the bar for your brother. Sound good?” Peter nods, and lets the smaller man lead him away. Sean is glad to be facing away from him - he can only hold the excitement in for so long, a hungry look haunting his face as he drops his guard for just a moment. It was starting already!

Synopsis The Glencross twins are back to finish their day of killing. This time they face off against the police sent to investigate their gruesome crimes. They expect a night of killing and growing, but what they don't expect is their estranged Uncle. He knows the secret to their power, and with him on police's side can they put an end to the Glencross twins' reign of terror once and for all? Find out in this, the stunning conclusion of "The Estate" Prologue Patrick Glencross sat in the burgundy wingback chair of his living room, nursing a brandy. It was early, but he needed a drink. A cigar lay dying in the ashtray beside him as he stared out of his penthouse window, eyes fixed on a point so far in the distance he couldn’t actually see it, though he knew it was there: Glencross Estate, the house of blood and horror. He tapped his loafered foot on the floor and drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Fuck,” he mumbled, after a sip of Brandy so small it did nothing but wet the tip of his tongue. It was his nephews’, Evan and Rupert’s, birthday. They were 21. Like most of the men in the Glencross line, they had signed their names in blood in the demon’s book and the gift (really a curse) had passed to them. Strength and size, the ideal masculine form, and all they had to do was kill for it. Patrick shook his head at the thought. He and his brother, Lawrence, had each been given the chance to sign their names when they turned 18. Lawrence was the older brother by one year and jumped at the chance with glee, signing the book quickly, under the proud gaze of their heavily muscled giant of a father. Patrick refused when his turn came, however, not sharing his family’s bloodlust. He watched with jealousy as his brother grew year after year, the pride of his father’s eye, while he was the black sheep pariah, pushed aside, ignored, laughed at. He built his body the natural way, the moral way, developing a great physique for a man nearing 50. He was thick and toned, but nothing like his colossus of a brother. At least his conscience was clean and his soul, safe… But was it? He often wondered if it was enough for the good to not commit evil, or if it was the good’s duty to actively fight it, and end evil. Was cutting ties with his family and refusing to take part in their evil enough to ensure his salvation, or did he have to ensure that the evil could not go on? He knew his nephews had signed the book and for three years he sat idly by while they killed and grew. One day they would have sons of their own, who would be pressured to sign the book and the evil would persist. Patrick rose from his chair and clenched his fists; a look of determination fell upon his face as he caught his reflection in the windowpane. He saw the wrinkles around his eyes, the thinning hair, going grey. If he waited any longer, he’d be too old to make a move, and it had to be him that made the move. This was family business. He flexed and felt his muscles swell against the fabric of his plaid button-down shirt. He still had strength. Patrick nodded his head. He’d go to Glencross Estate, barge through the doors of that manor, knock his brother flat on his back if he had to, and destroy the demon’s book. “Destroy the book. End the curse!” Chapter 1 Officer Sean Henderson stood, casually flexing his muscles beneath his dark blue uniform. Fuck, he filled it out good. The fabric stretched, having a hard time containing the bulging mounds of mass he had built over years of heavy lifting, heavy eating, and heavy roiding. There were some other big guys on the force, but none came close to him. Henderson was by far the biggest man at the station. Probably the most handsome as well, he thought, with his close-cut blonde hair, green eye, wide jaw and strong cheeks. Henderson had to laugh at himself. It was just like him to be thinking about how hot he was, when his mind should have been on the situation at hand: the chaotic murder scene and investigation happening around him. “Enjoying yourself?” Came a voice from his left. Sean turned to see Officer Vincent Amato sauntering up to him. “What’s the matter big guy, you got nothing better to do than flex those huge muscles of yours?” “I can think of a few things I could be doing,” Sean said. “Like this…” He grabbed Vincent and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “Woah, big fella,” Vincent said, when they released. “Not when we’re working, remember.” Sean looked down at his twink of a man. Well, Vincent was actually an average sized guy, but next to Sean’s 275 lbs, average men looked like twinks. Sean smiled as he stared at his man’s handsome face, his dark, slicked back hair, 5 o’ clock shadow, and tanned Italian features. “I’m starting not to care if anyone sees,” Sean said. “So what if they find out? Most of the guys on the force would be too chicken shit to say anything to me.” Sean laughed. “Just let someone try to call me a fairy.” “Well, I do care, baby,” Vincent said, looking side to side, “And in case you hadn’t noticed, we have police work to do.” *** Det. Jean Morgan’s eyes darted from side to side, as she and her partner, Det. Owen Lerner, toured the crime scene. Her eyes would linger on a footprint here and a blood splatter, there. Her mind was racing to piece it all together. There were a thousand clues, each a puzzle piece, that would present a clear picture if only she could put it all together in the right order. What the hell happened at Glencross Estate? “Most of the killings seemed to take place in the extensive hedge maze,” Francis, the CSI, said. He was a young, freckled guy, with messy red hair. He looked fresh out of college, despite being nearly 30. Jean was reminded just how old she was getting. Everyone was looking like a kid. 18 years of this shit would do it. Every case left a line on her face and even darker circles under her eyes. She needed a long vacation, somewhere tropical, but in that moment, she’d have settled for a cup of joe. “I’m thinking this could have been something ritual,” Owen said. “You know a lot of these old families are involved in secret societies, and weird rituals.” “Is that right?” Jean smiled. “It’s an unspoken truth,” Owen said, nodding his head. “Look at Epstein. A lot of money makes a person think they’re God. It makes them live in their own world, separate from reality. A world with their own rules and beliefs. You ever heard of Bohemian Grove?” Jean rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to make sure to put all that in the report, Lerner. The chief will get a bang out of it.” Jean brushed it off with a joke but wouldn’t rule it out. She never ruled anything out this early in an investigation. Something about these grisly murders didn’t seem normal, whether it was because of some ritual or not, she couldn’t be sure, but her intuition was telling her that the puzzle she pieced together was going to be a strange one. Call it a woman’s intuition, but don’t call it that around her. Jean Morgan called it a detective’s intuition because that was what she considered herself. A detective first, and a woman second. And the intuition was telling her something else: That they were all being watched.

Chapter 1 When I met Dane, he wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal. Even at that time in his early twenties, he was 6’3” and well over 200 pounds of shredded muscle. We worked out at the same gym. I fit my workouts in around my university schedule, but it seemed like whatever time I went, there he was, dripping with sweat and lifting some ungodly weight. Within the first week of my working out there, he had met my eyes more than once and smiled as he noticed the slack-jawed expression I usually had while I was ogling at his feats of inhuman strength. One Friday night, he stopped in the middle of a set to come right up to me. “You like what you see, man?” he said, flexing an incredible bicep in front of my face for emphasis. It had a perfect split peak and the striations were beautifully visible through his paper-thin skin. “Y-Yeah.” I managed to say. Struggling to tear my eyes away from the immense arm and to look him in the eye. He smiled even wider, showing off a set of perfect, straight, white teeth. Aside from the physique of a god, his jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes made him the absolute picture of beauty. “Good,” he said, “Because I’m gonna be the biggest there ever was.” He stretch out his hand and shook the limp appendage that was my arm. “I’m Dane.” “Lachie.” I replied. What happened next is still a complete haze to me, but the next thing I remember I was in the locker room being fucked senseless by the most perfect Adonis I’d ever seen. Looking past my own face reflected in the mirror as I gripped the sink, I saw the golden god of a man. Like me, his eyes saw nothing but himself. Both his and my gaze raked every shredded inch of his torso. His perfect 8-pack abs crunched with every thrust, beads of sweat rolling over the deep clefts between them. There wasn’t so much as a hint of fat on his whole body, yet his pecs were so thick and so rounded that they hung over the top of his abs, casting a shadow down. In that moment I wished I’d been born a contortionist just so that I could suck the perfect broad nipples that hung below those pecs while he kept fucking me. I felt his hands dig into my sides, knowing bruises would absolutely be there within minutes. The sudden flex telling me he was close to climax. I looked into his face and he spared me the briefest of glances. Sweat dragged his perfect, dark wavy hair down until it just teased in front of his eyes. His lips twisted into a cocky half-grin accentuated by his inhumanly square jaw, and I felt his monstrous cock explode inside me. It truly felt like a bomb going off deep inside me. How one man could hold that much cum inside him seemed impossible, and he didn’t strike me as someone who had dry streaks. He had to take a good step back to pull all 11 inches of still-hard, tremendously thick meat out of me. I slumped onto a nearby bench, absolutely wrecked while he stood for a second still admiring himself in the mirror. The man had just done a workout that would turn the strongest of men to jelly then spent a solid ten minutes ploughing me with the force of a jackhammer and he wasn’t even winded. It only just occurred to me how in the blur of passion I’d let this guy fuck me in the open in a very public bathroom. I was shocked at the lack of interruption, but blushing furiously I realised the amount of noise I’d made had probably warned people not to come in. Hell, it had probably warned people a block away. Still buck naked, Dane strutted past me to open up a locker. God his ass was so huge, round and striated that, had I not been completely devoid of the energy to move, I probably would’ve sunk my teeth in. He swung a leg over the bench I sat on, bearing his still rock-hard cock right in my face. Saying “balls the size of chicken’s eggs” strikes me as cliched, but I’m gonna be honest here, if your chicken was laying eggs this size you’d have your face in a record book. They slung under his cock and just laid out on the bench. “You don’t mind do you?” he asked, and breaking eye contact with his dick (with some effort) I noticed he had a needle and a small vial in his hands. Without waiting for an answer, he drew on the needle and filled it with a clear, faintly pink fluid from the vial before plunging it straight into one of the enormous testicles sitting in front of him. I’m not afraid to say I flinched, a lot. As the plunger of the needle dropped, I swear to god, I watched veins spring up over the surface of the massive ball, and snake their way up the thick shaft. I can’t attest as to whether he was fully hard when he shot up with the strange liquid, but as the veins sprang out from his cock, it definitely throbbed just a little larger. He laughed in that beautiful deep voice. “Sorry about that, but right after is the best time to do it.” He looked at the look of shock and awe on my face and grinned again. “This is some secret shit, real experimental,” he said tapping the vial with a broad finger. “Don’t tell anyone, I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you.” I looked up at him with more shock, and less awe, and he gave me a quick wink. He stood up and turned back to the locker. Once again I was struck, not only by the sheer perfection that was his ass, but also by just how wide his lats were. The man had to be at least three times as wide as me. I noticed the odd protrusion of his veins was still spreading over his form, albeit less intensely than it had at the point of impact. He pulled a pair of white briefs on that struggled to leave anything to the imagination, in fact, the waistband couldn’t match the tightness of his waistline, as his immense cock and balls pulled it forwards. He pulled on some loose gym shorts and an even looser stringer and strutted towards the exit. He turned back at the door, glancing over vein-covered traps to call back to me. “I put my number in your phone, text me.” I looked at the pile on the floor where I’d left my clothes to see my phone sitting neatly on top. Putting aside the fact that it was pin protected, and I hadn’t seen him have any time to do so, I found a new entry in my contacts under “Dane – BF.” I had no idea what the hell had just happened or what I’d got into, so I just pulled my clothes on, and avoiding the stares of everyone in the gym as I made the walk of shame, I headed home to pass out.

Take the lid off Part One When Dr. Korsakoff initiated the process, Kevin felt how his arousal intensified, but he also felt a twitch of worry and regret. He blushed. He hadn't been entirely honest with Todd, and married couples were supposed to be honest, weren't they? The humming sound from the Modification Pod slowly and gradually grew louder. Taking the medical aspects of it in regard, when he first heard about it all, he had expected to have to wait for Todd's return from the Treatment at some sort of separate ward or hotel for next-of-kin, but no: Friends or relatives were allowed to watch the entire Treatment, if The Subject agreed to that beforehand. The small lounge adjacent to the Modification Pod was obviously designed on purpose, to make the experience of relatives or friends of The Subject comfortable. He sat comfortably in a dimly lit room a half-stair under the level of the Modification Pod, and, from Kevin's view, the Modification Pod resembled a large aquarium, fixed to the wall of the Observation Lounge at eye-level. "No, it's a fairly common request. We actually expect most of our Subjects' significant others to be present and watch the Treatment, and we have accommodations ready for that purpose." Kevin briefly remembered Dr. Korsakoff's words from the interview. Wasn't something wrong with him, if he had been able to talk more openly and honestly about his fantasies with Dr. Korsakoff, than with Todd himself? The memories of the surveys they had both taken individually before the Treatments, the promises of Dr. Korsakoff to design unique and individually tailored Treatment Profiles for each of them, based on the answers of them both ... "What did you answer?" Kevin had asked, but Todd had just looked smug. Kevin loved when Todd looked smug. Snuggling up close to Todd's burly rugby-physique with the little belly, that never disappeared entirely, despite these years at the gym ... The smell of Todd's armpits ... Todd looking smug ... Todd's idea in the first place, to consult the company about the Treatment ... Kevin's doubts: Sounded too good to be true, like one of those Muscle Growth stories he read online and erased from his browsing history on their computer, in order that Todd wouldn't find out ... Kevin blushed again. * * * "No, of course not. Not something too exaggerated. Just enough to lose this dad bod belly." "Todd, you know that you are my hero, and that's not a dad bod belly. You are more built than half of the other guys at the gym, and you know it." "Would feel more comfortable without it. And as I said, not something too exaggerated. I went for the option, which will allow you fill in a survey, too, so I put my destiny in your hands. Afterwards, I'll look 50% like how you wanted me to improve, and I hope, that you will return that favour, by allowing me to have a 50% say about your Treatment." Snuggling up close. Todd. And his dishonest reply: "Of course. I don't wish any of us to look like the more extreme options in the folder, of course. And if you want me to undergo it with you, I'm honoured. Could make this hardgainer bod a little bit more toned, couldn't it?" "You don't think I'm throwing away money, for some ridiculous vanity project?" "No. No, I wasn't just aware of its existence until you showed me. Just perplexed. Didn't think it was possible or legal. Make me grow. But not too extreme, of course. And I'll tell that company about how I would like them to modify your body composition. Todd, do you know, that you are hard?" "Just feel excited. I'm so glad, that you are willing to grow together with me." * * * Kevin's awareness returned to his present surroundings. Behind the thick glass-pane, Todd's imposing body floated in the liquid -- a solution saturated with anabolic salts, as Dr. Korsakoff had explained earlier. Kevin felt hot. Sweat trickled in his armpits and from his brow, just as it had from Todd's body two hours earlier. It was probably the effect of the injection kicking in. A mask allowed Todd to breathe inside the ModPod. That made it difficult, to discern the facial expression of Todd. Some sort of spasm caused Todd's jock-next-door physique to convulse. Kevin suddenly felt worried. It looked like Todd flexed all his muscles all at once, and then relaxed. Flexed. And relaxed. Flexed. And relaxed. What if Dr. Korsakoff took Kevin's fantasies literally? What if Todd, to 50% at least, ended up how Kevin wished him to be, and didn't like it at all? What if their marriage ... He'd been a fool. The humming sound grew louder. Power emissions crackled inside the ModPod. Kevin could see hundreds of tiny bolts of -- what did Dr. Korsakoff call it? -- Hypertrophic Energy hit Todd's exposed body. Todd's nice tan becoming more even, becoming darker, achieving a sort of golden-bronzed hue, and the pudge, that had bothered Todd so much and Kevin so little, began to shrink at a visible speed. If this was The Treatment was possible to do, Kevin regretted how much he had assured Todd, about his own goals: "No, just tone up a bit. Nothing exaggerated. Not bodybuilder-big, of course. Just a small improvement." He should have told him. He should have told him before. * * * Two hours later, it was he who floated inside the ModPod, and Todd who sat outside in the Observation Lounge, watching. * * * Chapter two is found HERE

Here's another adventure of The Erotic Occultist. It's an idea that's been brewing for a while and I thought I would pound it out while I'm working on the last few parts of Food of the Gods. Hope you enjoy! PART ONE Tim waited in the virtual waiting room for the Zoom call to start. He admitted to himself that he was nervous and excited… well… nervous… excited… and slightly scared. He had been at the gym that morning when the email arrived, letting him know that his request for a meeting had been accepted. As soon as he read the text, his cock was hard. He tried to go back to lifting, but his mind was no longer on it. Sitting on the bench, he opened the email again and checked again the time the meeting would take place. He even tested the Zoom link to make sure that it was real. The link went directly to Zoom, but having used Zoom all through the pandemic, Tim knew that anyone could set up a Zoom call. It didn’t necessarily mean that it was really The Erotic Occultist reaching out to him. It had been eight months since he had written his first email asking the mysterious YouTuber if they could talk. Tim had come upon the muscle growth subliminal videos in his feed, and at first he didn’t even bother to listen to them since he wasn’t into that sort of stuff. Then, he hit a frustrating tableau in his quest for muscle. It seemed that no matter what he did, his stats and personal bests remained the same. When a month went by and everything was still exactly the same, he became desperate. He tried natural testosterone boosters, he hired a new trainer, he changed the way he worked out, but he still remained at 6’1 and 196 lbs of tight muscle. Then he tried steroids. Tim’s first cycle went well, and he found himself not only going up in weight and size but in his lifts as well. Strutting around the house and flexing for himself, he loved how his new muscle mass felt when he was both naked and clothed. When he hit 209 at the end of his cycle, he celebrated by going online and finding a twink to worship his muscles as he flexed. He was on top of the world. That is, until less than a week later, he watched as his gains slowly began to disappear. Each day he weighed himself, he was less and less. His mass crept away, and all of his clothes, including his underwear, felt baggy. He also began having trouble getting his cock up, which was something he never had an issue with before, and the hair on top of his head had begun to thin. A month after his first cycle, Tim was 6’1 and 196 lbs again. Tim looked in the mirror and hated what he saw. He wanted serious size. He wanted serious mass. He wanted people to look at him in awe when he walked into a room. He yearned for people to fear him when they saw him walking down the street at night. He craved to feel what it was like to find it nearly impossible to buy clothes off of the rack. He needed his body to match what he knew he really was inside. When he closed his eyes, Tim saw himself as a hulking mass of flexing muscle unlike any that had lived before. Bigger than any bodybuilder. Much bigger. Lying in bed, unable to sleep, Tim began scrolling first through CNN… then through Facebook… then through Instagram… and then finally in a fit of boredom, he landed on YouTube. At the top of his feed was the all too familiar muscle growth subliminal video he had been seeing for the past month and a half. Willing to give anything a try, he pressed play. Listening to the deep, masculine voice speak had Tim instantly hard, and as the video progressed, he found himself having one of the most intense orgasms he had ever had, and he hadn’t even touched himself!! Not even bothering to clean himself up, Tim fell asleep while the video continued. The next day was Tim’s best at the gym in weeks. He found himself lifting far beyond what he had been able to a few days prior, and when his hour and a half session at the gym was complete, he was shocked by how swollen his muscles looked in the mirror. Standing on the scale, he watched as the dial went up, eventually stopping at 199. 199! 199!! He was 199! He had gained 3 lbs of muscle after one workout! At first he wanted to take all of the credit for his gains, how he had pushed himself harder than he ever had before, but as soon as he saw the video again at the top of his YouTube feed, he knew that he had definitely gotten some supernatural help. Tim didn’t care if it was all in his mind, the placebo effect, or the Devil himself helping him. All he knew was that he had gained 3 lbs after one workout, and he was determined that there would be more where that came from. He listened to it again that night… and the night after… and the next. He listened to it at work. He listened to it on the tube, he let it play in the background no matter what he was doing. And soon, the gains began to pile on. Within 7 weeks, Tim stood even larger than he had after his first cycle. Much larger. He was now 245. He was still 6’1, but his stats were staggering! He had a 31 waist, 32” quads, a 55” chest, and 24” arms. He still continued listening to the video every chance that he could, but soon, Tim plateaued again, and no matter what he would do, he could never rise above 245. Even on another cycle, his weight and muscle stayed astonishingly the same. It was unbelievable. That night, he hunted down the email for The Erotic Occultist and wrote to him. He was desperate to be bigger. He craved it. It was a physical need that was eating him up inside. It was the third email that was eventually answered and had him sitting in the virtual waiting room at 11 am that day. He had called in sick to work, something he rarely did, but he didn’t care if he was missing an important meeting. If he could get everything that he wanted from The Erotic Occultist, he didn’t care about work. HIs body and muscles would be his work from now on!! He’d probably quit… maybe become a professional bodybuilder or make crazy money on Only Fans! What happened next was totally in The Erotic Occultist’s hands. Tim sat forward as the screen of his laptop changed. Suddenly he was no longer in the waiting room and on screen sat before him a fairly unassuming looking man. To Tim, The Erotic Occultist looked to be about 48 years old, was maybe 5’6 or 5’7, had an obvious slim frame beneath his buttoned up shirt, thinning blonde hair, and glasses which partially hid piercing blue eyes. Tim didn’t know what he was expecting, maybe some sexy, powerful figure, but he hoped the disappointment didn’t show on his face. This was The Erotic Occultist? This was the man with the deep, orgasm inducing voice behind the video? “62.” “I’m sorry?” “You guessed I was 48. I’m 62.” “62. Wow. I never would have guessed. You look great. Hope I look that great when I’m 62.” Slow down, Tim. Take a breath. “Moisturizer.” “What?” “Moisturizer. It’s the only way to keep your skin looking young without surgery. That and sun block. And some peptides. What kind of moisturizer do you use?” “Um… I don't know. I think… Kiehls.” “Kiehls? Not bad.” “Yeah.” “So… tell me… why summon me? Five times no less.” “You received my email?” “I did. Each one. But… why don't you tell me again.” “I love your video. I watch and listen to it all the time. I know I’m the size I am right now because of it.” “So you said in your emails. But… each time you wrote… I could sense that there was more. Some… deep desire hidden behind the words. Why don’t you share with me exactly what that desire is.” The room Tim sat in seemed to grow warmer. Grabbing the glass of water that sat next to his laptop, he took a sip. Just speak, Tim. Just tell him exactly what you want. An image exploded in his mind, but he quickly buried it down from the depths it had sprung up from. “I… I love the size I am. I really do. It suits me. Lots of guys would kill to be this size. It’s just…”. His cock was hard. Why was his cock hard? Why the fuck was his apartment so hot? “Say it.” The Erotic Occultist’s eyes seemed to gleam in the light. Tim looked deep within them and felt himself fall. “I want to be big.” “That’s it, Tim. Let it all flow.” Fuck he was hard!!! “Not just big. Huge. I don’t think I can fully tell you how huge I want to be.” “Tell me everything. I want to hear even the minutest detail.” His cock was leaking. The room was sweltering. His head was spinning. “I… Humongous. That’s the right word. Titanic. That’s an even better one, I… I fucking hate hitting plateaus. I want size… but no more fucking limits.” “Say it again. This time with some balls behind it.” “I want size but with absolutely no limits.” “Yes, Tim! Yes!! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” “No… I… I’ve just never said it out loud before.” He rubbed his crotch with his hand, massaging the jeans covered shaft. “It feels good… doesn’t it… saying exactly what you want? Most people are afraid to do it… to claim what they feel is rightfully theirs. You can have anything you want if you just ask for it. The universe barely ever says no. Look at Taylor Swift.” “You helped Taylor Swift?” “Do you see the universe telling Taylor Swift no?” “I guess I don’t.” “No. You don’t. Tell me again what you want. I love hearing you say it. I love hearing the passion in your voice.” “Limitless growth. Limitless size. Limitless power.” “There it is. I knew there was more.” “I want to be immense. Ridiculously immense. Like… People would think I was crazy when they see me.” “And with that size comes… what?” “Comes… I don’t know… ummm…” “Do you remember Behemoth B?” “I don't think so. Should I?” “No. You shouldn’t. He was some of my greatest work, but my supervisors didn’t approve. They said I had put my needs above what he truly desired..” “You have supervisors?” “Everyone has supervisors. What they didn’t see was that I grew him to the size I knew he truly wanted. Deep down… he craved the size he got! Sure, it wasn’t the size he asked for… but I know… if he hadn’t been afraid to just admit it… So, my supervisors decided to jettison him.” “They killed him?” “No. He’s still around. He’ll be around forever… just… in a different place and time. I visit him every once in a while. Damn, he’s happy. You would love Ben. You two have a lot in common.” “Oh yeah?” “Your quest for size… you both share that need. Anyway. You can see why I need for you to spell it all out for me. Can’t make upper management mad. Need to dot all of the i’s and cross all of the t’s.…” “I bet.” “So… what does you size come with?” “I guess it comes with…” Tim stared deep into The Erotic Occultist's eyes once again, and he swore that he saw them start to dance… spin… Taking his hand, he slowly began to rub his right pec… toy with the nipple. “Respect. It… it comes with… respect. And awe.” “What else? Say it!” Tim’s cock jumped as he pinched his nipple tight. “It comes with fear. Lots of fear. Mostly fear. I want the world to fear me and my size.” Tim couldn’t stop himself. He was surprised by what he was admitting, but it felt so incredible to say it out loud. Of course he had thought these things. Who hadn’t? But, he never would have admitted them to someone he didn’t know. But, The Erotic Occultist wanted to help him. Didn’t he?” “Fear. Yes. What a beautiful word. So much energy comes from people’s fear. It’s like… currency to someone like me.” Tim’s skin was so hot now… nearly burning. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. He sat there, in front of his computer, panting and sweating and hornier than he ever remembered being. “Beautiful. Just beautiful. That’s an epic chest you have there, Tim… but I see why you contacted me. Why limit yourself. Why not grow to what you were truly meant to be.” “Yeah. Thanks. Exactly. No more plateaus. Just… growth. Limitless growth.” “I imagine you want a huge cock and balls too? Right?” Tim laughed. “Well… if you’re offering….” “Of course. Everyone always wants a huge cock. Hyper masculine?” “Oh yeah.” Tim unbuttoned his jeans and shoved his hand into his briefs. “I knew you were one of those! Super hyper masculine… massive cock and balls… and the immense size that the world will… What was that word? Ah yes… My favorite word. Fear.” “Fear. Yeah. Fear. The world… it will fear the sight of me!! I’m just… too huge!” Tim needed to cum. He desperately needed to cum. “How much is it worth?” “How much?” “Yeah. How much are you going to give me to make it happen?” Tim hadn’t thought about payment. “I… I don’t know. My… soul?” The Erotic Occultist let out a long and deep laugh. “Too cliché.” “What does something like what I want go for?” “It always varies. How much do you have right now in your checking account?” “Exactly? I don’t know.” “Check. You have your phone there. Stop playing with yourself for a minute and check.” Tim picked up his phone and clicked on the bank’s icon. Soon, after the system analysed his face, he was in his account. “I have… 328,363 dollars.” “That sounds good. I’ll take that.” “All of it?” “All of it. But… to be fair… the money wont be removed from your account until after what you’ve requested is fulfilled. How does that sound?” 328,363 was all he had in his checking account… but he did have a savings account with much more in it. If he got what he wanted… it would definitely be worth every penny. “Sure. That’s fair.” “So… I can have 328,363 after your request is fulfilled?” “Yeah. Let’s do it.” “Amazing. Now… tell me again… what is it you want? Tell me it all.” The room grew quiet again. The Erotic Occultist looked deep into Tim’s eyes, and the words flowed out of him like water. “I want to be… I want to be immense. Gargantuan. I want my muscles to be so massive that they should each have their own zip codes!” “Yes!” Tim dropped his phone and grabbed his cock once again. “Every muscle on my body… they’re so beyond swollen that if I was studied… they’d find muscle growing on top of muscle growing on top of muscle! I’m a genetic freak!” Tim pumped his cock faster. “More!.” “Like my size… my strength is beyond words and comprehension. I mean… I bet I could lift cars with my pinkie… and even would be like lifting a piece of dust. I could… oh fuck… I could move mountains if I wanted to.” Pre was free flowing, coating his cock and running onto the floor. “More!!!.” “My cock… It’s just as insanely big and thick as I am. I mean… guys… they run from it, it's so huge. And my balls… I’m so virile I could impregnate the world with one orgasm.” “I need more!!!!” The Erotic Occultists eyes seemed to fill the screen and burrowed into Tim’s soul. “I’m so titanic that… honestly… no one should be that big… yet I am. I’m actually bigger! I’m a menace to society. I'm so huge! My strength… oh fuck… it destroys everything I touch! Nothing’s safe when I’m around. People fear even the thought of me!! I walk and the ground beneath me shakes. I walk… and people run! And the worst thing for all of them? I just… keep… growing!!!” “Say it, Tim!! Now!!” “No limits!!! I want to live my life with no limits!! I want to be a fucking monster!! I want to be so huge that I’m all there is!” “YES!!!” Tim's cock erupted, sending ropes of cum shooting onto the desk, the laptop, and onto the floor. Just when he thought he had released all of his load, more and more poured out until his balls began to ache. Tim felt like the orgasm went on and on forever, draining him of every ounce of cum he possessed, but still more flowed. He wanted to scream. He wanted to beg his cock to stop cumming, but he couldn’t find the words. Then, just when he couldn't take anymore, the orgasm faded, and Tim collapsed into his chair, exhausted. “It’s done, Tim. You’re all set to receive exactly what you asked for.” “It… Really?” Tim looked down at what seemed like a gallon of cum coating everything around him. “Oh yeah, Tim. And your down payment has already been made.” “It has?” “It has. But, don’t worry your pretty head about that. “When will my muscles start to grow?” “That, my friend, is all part of the fun. But don’t worry. Within the week… you won’t be living the boring life you live now. You’ll be something… extraordinary.” “When it happens… then I’ll pay you?” “Yep. When it happens, the money will be transferred to me.” “I’ll need your account information.” “No need. I’ll get it.” “Oh. Okay.” “One word of advice. Do everything that you can that you think you’re going to miss when you’re… gargantuan. Don’t worry. You’re going to love everything you receive… it just… as time passes… you’ll find that some of the simplest things are beyond your grasp.” “Oh. Okay. Right. I see what… FUCK!!” Tim’s chest felt like it was on fire. His pecs had never felt so sensitive. He looked down, and watched as both began to slowly flex, pump up, and then inflate. Soon… hit fat pecs were thickening… inflating… expanding. The weight of his pecs was extraordinary. Like flesh covered balloons… they just kept growing and growing. Soon, both muscular mounds slammed together and created an extremely tight crevice. “Oh my god!! This is incredible!” Tim’s nipples were soon forced to point down as his chest became more than super sized! When they did, the growth stopped. “Holy fuck!!” Tim’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the most massive and incredible set of pecs he had ever seen. Flexing them, the heavy masses jumped at his command. “You have a 73” chest now. How does that feel?” “Incredible.” “Don’t lie!” Tim grunted again as the wave of growth passed through his chest once again and he watched the mounds start to thicken again. He leaned back in his chair as his pecs continued to gain more and more incredible size. Looking down, all Tim could see was pecs! His chest was all pecs!! When he grabbed them with both hands, he groaned again. “Feels… so… good!!” Vince twisted his nipples and nearly came again. How was he ever going to find a shirt to cover these things?! Did he ever want to cover them?” Wait till the guys in the gym saw him!! “Enough!!!” The Erotic Occultist fell forward against the table he was sitting behind. Automatically, Tim’s chest stopped growing. “That's 83 inches now, Tim How does that feel?” “I… I have no words!!” “Just a taste Tim. Just a taste. You’re never going to see me again, Tim… but I’ll be watching you. Have fun. Make me proud.” The Zoom call ended. The room spun. Tim felt nauseous. He gagged several times and was afraid he was going to vomit. Then, just as quickly as it started, the wave of nausea faded. Looking over his pecs… Fuck! Looking over his pecs!! Tim saw that his computer was dark and looked like it wasn’t even on. Standing up, Tim saw that his jeans were still buttoned, containing his painfully hard cock. The mess he had made when he came, was gone. There was no sight that he had even orgasmed at all. He picked up his phone from the floor and looked at it. It was 11 am. No time had passed. He would have thought the conversation had all been a dream, but when he looked down… all he could see was the biggest set of pecs in the world. Tim shuddered as he massaged his pecs. He had made a deal with… he didn’t know what. The idea of that slightly scared him, but it also turned him on. He tried replaying the conversation in his head, but it all seemed hazy. He knew he had asked for size, that much he knew. And if his pecs were any example of what was to come… if what his body was going to be like when it grew to match his gargantuan pecs… Tim couldn’t wait!!

This commission was undertaken for Moderator Trontastic, providing a truly enjoyable experience. If you're considering having one for yourself, feel free to join our Discord channel and shoot me a message. We can start discussing what your next piece could look like! Hope you enjoy it Tron! ----------------------------------------- The morning light crept through the blinds, casting delicate lines across the disheveled bedroom. Lee awoke with a groan, attempting to shake off the lingering haze of sleep that clung to his mind. A peculiar dream lingered, involving a bodybuilder from a local bar—a scenario foreign to his usual experiences. Yet, a recent sense of loneliness had nudged him toward unfamiliar territory. His first realization that something was amiss hit him as he discovered himself completely naked, a peculiar circumstance on its own. He never slept naked, even after sex. As his groggy senses sharpened, he became aware of an overpowering musky odor saturating the air—an unsettling blend of sweat and cum. Glancing around, he tried to figure out what happened. To his astonishment, his body and sheets were covered in significant amount of viscous, translucent and cloudy cum. The amount of sex it would take to form this level of coverage…. Lee didn’t want to think about it. Lee struggled to sit up, only to be assaulted by the unmistakable smell of his own body odor, forcing him to gag. Another bizarre revelation awaited him—the once-sturdy bed frame now lay shattered beneath him. Lee found his feet angled towards the floor, where an unmistakably large and busted condom, remnants of a pair of destroy pants, and an absolutely shredded shirt lay scattered. None of them belonged to him. Confusion and fear coursed through Lee's as he struggled to remember what had happened. His mind was a jumbled mess, and he was piecing together memories as he looked around. He distinctly felt an unusual sensation in his back like his feet had been up on someone’s shoulders and a looseness in his asshole that left no doubt he'd experienced a semi-truck pounding his ass last night. He made a mental note not to trust a fart today. Vague images of laughter, a charming smile, a captivating rear end—those were the details that stood out. And really, all that mattered. Pushing aside the soaked bed sheets, Lee rose, trying to ignore the wreckage that was once his bed frame, and the significantly wider bedroom door that was smashed out. As he stood, he couldn't help but notice the overpowering sweat smell, and a quick wiff of his pits made him cringe. Most of the smell wasn’t his. Yet, the bizarre incidents didn't end there. As he ventured into the hallway, he discovered inexplicable damage to the walls, shattered frames on the ground, dents in the drywall, and his Oma and Opa smiling up at his cum covered, naked body. The damage on his walls looked like huge handprints - something he knew was impossible with how high they were. His apartment looked like a giant was trying to get out of his room and house. But the most bewildering discovery awaited him at his front door, as he tried to cover himself. There, Lee gasped in disbelief as the sun bathed the yard, where his door now lay. The massive footprints leaving his house were enormous, far too large to belong to any normal person. The front door had been violently smashed outward, leaving behind splintered wood and bent metal hinges. The sheer force required to cause such damage was beyond comprehension - and absolutely should have woke him up. Tire marks might have provided some explanation, but the presence of impossibly massive footprints left him even more bewildered as he looked at only his car parked hastily crooked in his driveway. With each bizarre discovery, Lee's sense of safety teetered on the brink of collapse. Who had been in his home? Why was there so much cum? He felt like he had been dropped into the middle of a surreal nightmare, and he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was missing something. The only thing he was certain of was that he needed answers. Lee grabbed his phone, his gaze shifting uneasily over the disarray in his home. Feeling the need for a break, Lee dialed both his boss and then his landlord, officially signaling his decision to take some time off from work. With his front door shattered, he found himself with little choice but to remain home until the landlord addressed the issue. The ensuing hours were spent patiently collecting glass shards scattered throughout his hallway. Amid the broken frames and pictures, a wave of nostalgia enveloped Lee, his grandparents in Seoul, their frozen smiles encapsulating moments from a trip nearly a decade ago. Memories of his childhood visits to South Korea surged back, casting a bittersweet ambiance within his disrupted living space. As he navigated the remnants of shattered glass, each photograph became a portal to cherished moments, offering a temporary escape from the present turmoil. Upon the landlord's eventual arrival, Lee braced himself for the inevitable confrontation as he promised to get a police report, call it a break-in. The landlord wasted no time lecturing him about the property damage, discussing the precarious status of the security deposit. Lee, having sensed the futility of recovering the deposit when he signed the lease, expected little more than empty promises regarding any further repairs. Following the dealings with the landlord and then his boss, Lee tackled the daunting task of cleaning up his house. Only after completing this did he realize the needed another shower and a change of scenery to clear his mind. Despite the early 5 O'clock hour, darkness had already claimed the winter evening, intensifying Lee's restlessness. Unable to bear the confines of his home any longer, he decided to head to the gym. The prospect of a few miles of running emerged as the perfect remedy to clear his mind and temporarily run from his problems At the gym, an unsettling sensation lingered with Lee. A nagging discomfort churned in his stomach, yet he dismissed it as a consequence of the chaotic start to his day. Determined to escape, he climbed onto the treadmill, pushing through the unease. Setting the speed to level 5 and programming his watch for a 25-minute session, he hoped the activity would provide some relief, even if it fell short of substantial warmth or fatigue. Opting for the back row of machines, Lee aimed to keep a low profile, uninterested in drawing attention to himself despite the gym being nearly empty. Each step on the treadmill felt like a deliberate move away from the morning's events, a small act of distancing himself from the problem. As his run progressed, his stomach protested with more gurgling sounds, and a wave of queasiness settled in. The likely culprits were his day-long fast and avoiding restroom breaks. Lee's tummy rumbled ominously, a clear indication that he might have overexerted himself on the treadmill. Recognizing the growing discomfort, he made his way to the men's locker room. Fearful of vomiting or, worse, passing out. His steps quickened as he rushed into the locker room, desperation in his eyes. The urge to vomit was overpowering, and he needed to find a suitable spot fast, the best he could manage being the sinks. His grip on them tightened, knuckles turning white as he leaned over it, pale-faced. He examined his reflection in the mirror, his eyes appearing oddly pale and a sickly pallor overtaking his complexion. A sudden, searing wave of pain tore through his stomach, causing him to double over in agony. Desperately, he clung to the edges of the sink, his face contorted in a grimace as dry heaves wracked his body, as he tried not to make too much noise. He hung his head over the sink try to vomit, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to regain control of his racing heartbeat and labored breaths. The room spun around him, threatening to swallow him whole, and he felt a looming darkness encroach upon his senses. But just as panic threatened to consume him, something extraordinary began to happen. Lee sensed a peculiar, pulsating sensation in his hands as they grasped the sink. It was as if the tension in his muscles had reached a critical threshold, causing his hand to quiver and tremble. The overwhelming fear still lingered, but there was no denying the changes that were taking place. Despite his ongoing struggle to expel whatever had upset his stomach, the bizarre sensation intensified. The grip from his hand on the sink seemed to build relentlessly, and with an eerie ease, he suddenly realized that he had shattered the once-sturdy porcelain fixture of the sink. Lee's thoughts raced as he looked at his shaky hands, struggling to comprehend the bizarre changes unfolding before him. The room seemed to whirl around him, and he clung to a fleeting hope that perhaps it was just a shoddy sink that had cracked with such ease. Yet, a deeper, more rational part of him knew otherwise. His once-ordinary hand, now tinged with an otherworldly tint of green, faint but spreading and getting darker. “Oh god…. Uhh… what the fuck?” He watched in mesmerized awe as his fingers elongated and thickened, the very bones beneath his skin shifting. As the darker green hue crept steadily up his thickening arm, it filled out the loose, baggy shirt he had donned that day. The fabric strained under the sudden growth of his burgeoning muscles, threads groaning in protest against the sheer power of the transformation. Lee's heart pounded in his chest, a potent mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through his veins. His once unassuming and slender frame was transforming, rapidly evolving into something monstrous. Muscles inflating beneath his skin, and his shoulders and arms grew increasingly pronounced, causing the shirt sleeves to stretch to their limits, threatening to burst open at any moment. With each passing moment, Lee could feel the incredible strength surging through his body. His first thought: he had to hide. His movements became somewhat robotic and unsteady as he staggered toward the handicap toilet stall. It was a relatively spacious handicap stall, but Lee knew it wouldn't remain that way for long if things continued and with how good it was starting to feel, he hoped it would. As he stepped into the stall and managed to lock it, his eyes fell upon another mirror on the back of the door, and the shock that overcame him was profound. The reflection staring back at him bore no resemblance to the thin man he once was. His heart raced, pounding faster with every passing second. It was as if he were watching a surreal movie of his own transformation. Lee's arms had become massive, his clothes strained against the burgeoning muscles, and his shirt and pants had risen from their usual positions. His skin, once familiar in its tone, had now taken on a peculiar shade of green. The queasiness that had earlier plagued him had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride and strength. He moved his hands up toward his shoulders, just watching his unflexed biceps bulging out. A sense of exhilaration welled up within him. "Oh, hell yes," Lee exclaimed feeling a sense of pride swelling just like his muscles. Lee's reflection stared back at him, mirroring his amazement. The green hue of his skin deepened with each passing moment, and his muscles filled his shirt to its absolute limit, causing it to feel impossibly tight and stretched against his skin. His shoulders seemed determined to liberate themselves from the confines of his shirt, pulling the sleeves upward as his biceps and triceps swelled. Lee's gaze shifted downward, and the initial panic gave way to an overwhelming sense of astonishment. His stance had involuntarily broadened, requiring him to adjust, now tall enough to see over the top of the stall if he straighten up. The clothes he had worn, once so familiar, now strained and groaned under the pressure of his burgeoning muscles. Ripe. “How big am I going to get?” He muttered as another surge hit him. Small tears appeared in his shirt, like the seams were protesting the incredible transformation occurring within him. Lee watched amazement at his increasingly large reflection, his heart pounding with excitement as he grunted and growled growing larger with each passing second. His shirt, once a snug fit, was now straining against his magnificently growing muscles, each contour and detail profoundly pronounced. He shifted his gaze to his workout pants, which hadn’t hugged his legs before but were now stretched to the brink, showcasing every bulging muscle beneath including his much larger cock pressed halfway down his left thigh. It was a sight to behold, and Lee was savoring every moment grabbing it through his pants and giving it a good shake. However, an unsettling sensation clawed at Lee's consciousness, a growing discomfort that seemed to originate from his feet. What began as a subtle unease quickly escalated into a piercing pain, surpassing mere discomfort and bordering on the excruciating. Amidst the throbbing pain, Lee became acutely aware of an unmistakable sound—the creaking protest of his tennis shoes pushed to their absolute limits. Seams ripped unable to contain the expanding force of his rapidly growing feet. The shoes, once snug, now strained and incapable of withstanding the magnitude of the transformation. Lee's feet, fueled by the force of his metamorphosis, were doubling in size. The spectacle unfolded, capturing the surreal moment when Lee's feet, driven by the relentless transformation, burst forth from the constraints of his now tattered and overwhelmed shoes. The once-confined feet quickly overstepped the entire sole of the former shoe. “Holy fuck..” His voice trail, deep and husky. “I…. Uh…. Huge.” Lee’s deep voice echoed. Yet, it wasn't solely the physical sensations that thrilled Lee; it was the entirety of the transformation. The mere sight of his growth in the mirror sent shivers through him. With each surge of power coursing through him, his clothes proved inadequate, torn further with each wave of expansion. Lee found immense pleasure in the experience, relishing the moment as he intentionally ripped open the collar of his shirt. Within the restroom, Lee's grunts and expletives harmonized with the tearing fabric. He reveled in the spectacle, a strange mix of awe and delight coursing through him as he watched his reflection morph in the mirror. The man staring back bore a resemblance to Chul Soon, but with a mesmerizing twist – a vibrant shade of green now adorned a towering figure well over 6 feet tall. Another surge of growth surged through him, making his muscles flex and expand even larger. The last traces of self-consciousness had faded, replaced by an overwhelming pride and desire to go back out to the weight floor and literally throw things around. With a burst of determination, he tore off his shirt, unwilling to give in to the to throw something larger. His new pecs rippled with incredible power, and he couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch them, marveling at their incredible strength, and now manlier black hair. The delight within Lee surged to new heights as he examined his reflection, eyes wide with amazement. It wasn't a mere inspection; it was self-worship, a deep immersion in the unparalleled strength growing in his body. Unable to resist, he ran one hand over his bulging muscles and another around his shaft, massaging his balls. With each step toward the mirror, Lee continued to grow. He reveled in his newfound height, taking care with his movements to avoid inadvertently colliding with the stall's walls given his mass. His dark Korean hair beautifully complemented the vibrant emerald hues of his green skin. Standing tall as a muscular, green figure, he reveled in the transformation, surpassing 7 feet with another surge of growth and a deeper “uhh” The gym, an unlikely setting for such desires, proved unable to dissuade Lee any longer. His once average dick had transformed into a rock-hard and easily a foot long. The sheer size of his new physique, making him want to fuck something. If he didn’t jerk-off, the Hulk within him would burst out of the stall, wreaking havoc until he found another puny weak man unable to resist his monstrous grasp. Urgently, he turned to face the toilet, one massive hand firmly braced against the wall, while the other skillfully aimed his massive mushroom-like head toward the bowl. His wright against the wall left a dent forcing him to ease up. Each stroke of his now enormous self was accompanied by deep grunts, from a beast Lee had yet to get to know. He knew if he made eye contact with anyone – despite standing over the stall walls– he’d lose control and fuck them right there. He could only moan in a low laughing growl, overwhelmed by the incredible sensations. The scent of his own sweaty pits, the thick veins coursing across his bulging arms, and his size only intensified urges - driving him closer and closer. He came and Lee was taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the release, unlike anything he had ever experienced before flooding the toilet. A relentless volley of cum swiftly filled the toilet bowl to the brim, prompting him to instinctively flush it and globs dripped over the brim. The handle shattered under the force of his grip in attempt to flush it down, and a startled expression crossed his face as water began to spew out from the ruptured pipe. A reward for being this strong, he thought. With a sense of satisfaction, he nonchalantly crushed the damaged pipe in his hand. Globs of cum still slowly oozed from his cock, but at least now he had a partial answer to the mysteries of his morning. It became evident – he had been fucked by the Hulk, and it was apparent that the Hulk had attempted, albeit unsuccessfully, to restrain himself from passing on this transformative gift with a condom. The thought of it made Lee laugh as he realized he could possible fuck something this large as well. Standing within the confines of the stall, he quickly surveyed the locker room beyond. Relief washed over him as he realized that no one had ventured inside to witness the chaotic aftermath. Lee's chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing and calm down, his sense of urgency pushing him to leave the stall. However, the newfound size presented an unexpected challenge. He had to turn sideways, wedging his colossal frame through the doorway. It wasn't until he was finally free of the stall that Lee truly comprehended the magnitude of his colossal transformation. He was, quite simply, gargantuan, and he wanted more - something he knew he couldn’t allow himself to take no matter how easy it would be. Lee needed new clothes now, and he wasted no time in appropriating a pair of shorts from an unsuspecting locker, and a tank top to match. With casual ease, he ripped the lock off, inadvertently tearing the locker door from it’s hinges. The idea of theft did not sit well with him, but under these extraordinary circumstances, he couldn't help but entertain the thought of someone attempting to reclaim the shorts from him as he began to noticeably shrink. A chuckle escaped his lips as he moved with thundering steps toward a private shower stall. He had no intention of causing harm to anyone, but he also had no intention of returning the borrowed shorts. Even in his colossal size, they were essentially posing shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination. Inside the shower, he managed to squeeze his oversized form into the confined space, fervently hoping that the cooler water might alleviate the unsettling effects of his transformation. As the cold water cascaded over him, Lee could feel the unnatural size and power that had consumed him slowly dissipate, each pound of muscle shrinking away and part of him was scared it wouldn’t come back, another wanted to never be human sized again. It was a disconcerting experience, leaving him feeling increasingly vulnerable and frightened, a stark contrast to the towering beast he had become just moments ago, but he was far from his former self - still absolutely shredded at 6’8” and 290lbs, if he had to guess. Afterward, he returned to the bathroom stall, collected his soaking wet clothing and keys, and quietly slipped out of the gym. The mess he left behind was going to attract attention, and he didn’t want to be there when it finally came. Driving home, the surreal experience weighed heavily on Lee's mind, distracting him throughout the journey. He couldn't help but glance at his arms, still larger than before, and a part of him yearned to see them grow into colossal, Hulk-like proportions again as he gripped the steering wheel on and off just to see the them flex. However, entertaining that idea felt dangerous, especially while driving. He could feel it though, if he tried, he’d grow again. He knew it. But as he pulled into his driveway, the unsettling possibilities began to creep into his thoughts. Had he unknowingly slept with a Goliath-like hulk, transmitting whatever bizarre condition had caused this transformation? The mere thought that he might have willingly approached a muscular man with the potential to transform into a hulk sent a shiver down his spine. It seemed out of character for him, as he had always been more of a wallflower, bent on making the world a better place through his actions. Then again, Lee knew if he wanted to fuck someone right now, not much would stand in the way - least of all his confidence. The time was nearly 10 at night, and Lee found himself determined to investigate what had happened to him. He had heard stories of the Hulk, the violent and brutish alter ego, but that image didn't align with who he was, whether as a man or as a hulk. However, he had no intention of wreaking havoc on the rest of his home in the process if he could avoid it. Instead, he longed for the rush and confidence he had experienced during the transformation. He yearned to cup his firm pecs, run his hands all over his muscular green body, and feel the touch of others. As he began the arduous task of changing his bedding, the lingering scent in the room was undeniable – the unmistakable scent of cum. Lee's gaze swept across the room, eventually focusing on a shredded T-shirt and pants sprawled beneath the shattered bed frame. Realization washed over him, and Lee's fragmented memories of the night before began to come together. Loneliness and desire had driven him to Grindr for the first time in months. With a racing heart, he opened the app and delved into the messages. There it was, a message from someone with the intriguing moniker JerBear. The messages danced with playful suggestions of scenarios like being picked up for a bench press session or being curled like a barbel in Lee's bedroom - where he was. It was clear that JerBear knew precisely how to entice Lee, catering to his attraction to burly, hairy, muscular men. JerBear was essentially a lumbersexual, with chest and shoulder hair blending seamlessly, oozing masculinity that sent shivers down Lee's spine. He was sexier than anyone Lee had been with, and it was intoxicating even now as he felt his clothes get a little more snug. That should have been a warning sign, but lust clouded Lee's judgment then as it did now. As he scrolled through the conversation, he couldn't help but notice the enticing photos showcasing JerBear's hairy bulging, muscular arms effortlessly curling a 250lb bar like it was nothing. It was followed by a captivating video that highlighted the impressive jiggle of JerBear's furry pecs. Lee's desire only grew stronger as he watched. Yet, amidst the allure, Lee began to discern the subtle changes—JerBear's skin taking on a slightly sickly hue, faint tints of green and if you didn’t know to look for it, you’d never see it. They weren’t getting darker but he could somehow control the hulk in him - that much was certain. This revelation sent a shiver down Lee's spine as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place, casting an eerie light on the inexplicable events of the previous night. The thought of controlling such a transformation intrigued Lee, but the mystery only deepened as he contemplated why he couldn't remember the night's events. With a sense of curiosity, he messaged JerBear, for answers. "Hey man, what happened last night?"However, his inquiry was met with a swift block, leaving Lee increasingly frustrated and agitated. As Lee remembered the pictures and videos of JerBear, he couldn't deny how much he wanted JerBear again. The sensation of his muscles expanding and bulging intensified with each passing moment, fueling his desire as he focused on each arousing image. In his bedroom, Lee stood fixated on those Grindr photos, consumed by an intense desire for answers. No, it wasn't just answers he craved; Lee wanted to fuck him, immediately. Absentmindedly, he found himself gripping his stiffening cock, sensing its pulsating response. The shirt, stolen from the gym, valiantly struggling to contain the burgeoning mass of his chest but succumbed to the unstoppable force. Shredding threads echoed as the fabric surrendered, unveiling broad, green shoulders and the rippling contours of his pecs. Tattered remnants clung to his biceps and back. “Uhh goddamn this feel so good.” His deep voice said without any concern this time, watching his body grow and dropping his phone at the same time. Below the waist, a parallel drama unfolded. Gym shorts, once comfortable for his slimmer frame, strained against his expanding lower body. The fabric reached its limits, seams creaking and groaning as his thighs swelled with newfound girth. The waistband dug into his hips, biting into his skin as it fought to maintain its grip. Lee could feel every inch of his legs growing thicker, the muscles pulsating and expanding like living entities as he stood taller and wider. He was no longer the scrawny figure he had been when he woke up. The undeniable allure of the transformation kept his desires burning, making him eager to embrace the hulk within him once again. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” He laughed watching himself grow, moving things in his room like they were nothing, as realized it was happening faster this time. An intoxicating rush coursed through him, each surge of growth accompanied by a rush of euphoria. He had come to embrace the hulking transformation, knowing what was happening to him, and he cheered himself on as the raw, untamed strength surged within. The feeling of his own muscles pressing against his skin, the sheer weight and power of his new physique—it was exhilarating in a way he had never imagined. Lee stood there, half-naked and undeniably hulking, in awe of the sheer magnitude of what he had become. His green skin gleamed with a surreal sheen, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom, now inches from the ceiling. A spectacle unfolded before Lee's eyes, the transformation surpassing his previous stature, and he couldn't resist relishing every moment. As he flexed his arms, a mesmerizing display ensued, with biceps and triceps continuing to swell, showcasing awe-inspiring definition. The sheer magnitude of his newfound height at 8ft, coupled with the rippling muscles, made every movement a breathtaking revelation. In the confines of his room, now seemingly smaller than ever, Lee navigated the space with a surreal awareness of his colossal presence, ducking down and squeezing sideways through his doorway. The once-familiar surroundings felt increasingly constricting as he grappled with the burgeoning desire to grow even larger as he struggled down the hallway his own handprints matchings JerBears in the walls. In this confined space, the yearning for more growth fueled his transformation more, creating a paradox of both exhilaration and a hunger for more. "I fucking need this," Lee muttered, his deep voice now resonating in the confined space of his restroom, now having to hunch over. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing reflection before him. The curvature of his now hairy pecs, the chiseled contours of his abs—all of it was raw power and sensuality that needed to feel like a man. With deliberate movements, Lee ran his hands over the flexed muscles of his chest, feeling the rock-hard surface beneath his fingertips, watching it in the mirror, smelling his sweaty pits. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, a heady mix of pleasure and desire coursing through him. His touch moved lower, gliding over his undulating abdomen. His abs were like sculpted granite, each muscle defined and prominent, his belly button popping out slightly. Lee couldn't resist the urge to flex them, watching in awe as they rippled beneath his touch as he noticed hair starting to grow. It was an intoxicating map of muscle and veins. As he explored his own body, Lee fought to stay grounded, to keep the simmering desire from consuming him entirely. He was no longer the timid man who had walked into the gym hours ago. But Lee was determined to maintain control, to savor each touch without succumbing to the overwhelming urge that pulsed through him - to smash or fuck anything in reach. He wanted this muscle, craved it with an intensity he had never known, and he refused to let it drive him to anger or recklessness. Instead, he focused on the sheer pleasure of his own touch, on the way his new muscles responded to his command as he would flex and grow. He couldn't help but revel in the sensual exploration of his transformed body. It was an intoxicating experience, one that left him feeling like a god in his own right. His chest and shoulders easily measured four feet wide, and with how much he had to hunch over significantly, he towered about 9 feet tall. The room had become a confining space, unable to contain his burgeoning size, and Lee felt as though he was outgrowing the very walls around him. There wasn't much room to move around unless he could calm down, and the only way he knew at this point to regain some sense of control was through jerking off. This transformation had left him bigger and stronger, and this time was no exception. He felt like he was still in the midst of becoming the Hulk, as if it weren't done with him yet. Lee did what he needed to, cumming in the bathtub. The sheer volume matched what he had woken up to this morning, still surprising him as it slowly drained from the tub. As he stood there, covered in sweat and lost in the sensations pulsating through his body, leaving him trembling and breathless, Lee couldn't help but wonder about his size. He must have weighed a staggering amount, and the thought sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. He wanted to see the kind of things he could do, maybe rip a tree out of the ground or bench press a car over his head. Yet, even as he marveled at his own shrinking self, Lee couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to be with someone. ________________________________________________________________________ After two weeks of transforming whenever he got horny at home, Lee slowly learned to control over his transformations, enough to go outside and gradually resume working, albeit on a reduced schedule but a not-so-reduced size as he purposely kept himself a 5ft 9 and 205lbs - nearly 5” taller and 90lbs heavier. He attributed his time off from work to the stress caused by a recent break-in at his home. In his position as a out-reach director, Lee focused on assisting homeless individuals in rebuilding their lives. This involved helping them secure employment, using his workplace's address as a mailing address, and occasionally providing tents or safe camping spots – all part of his routine. His job's flexibility allowed him to engage in video calls with donors and community members, as well as work on grant proposals, tasks easily manageable from the comfort of home. While the work might not have been the most thrilling, it offered him the advantage of remaining in the background, emerging only on his own terms. Upon his return to work, Lee's work’s President introduced him to Ian, a seemingly unassuming man sporting a "Friend of Dorothy Zbornak” shirt, subtly signaling he’s gay. The shirt was neatly tucked under a suit jacket, an odd juxtaposition that somehow made it look professional yet discrete to the average straight guy. Ian, affiliated with a free clinic the organization was partnering with, was set to collaborate with Lee on an upcoming project. Their connection was immediate, and they often found themselves meeting at a local coffee shop to work on grants, later extending their sessions to include more relaxed, less professional dinners. Ian exhibited a similar underlying shyness that Lee had once experienced before transforming into the Hulk. He understood the sensation of admiring fit individuals, observing the bulging veins in their biceps or the flex of their forearms during everyday movements. Ian was a watcher, and Lee found himself reveling in being watched. Standing at around 6'1" and weighing roughly 220 lbs, Lee had carefully chosen his new size, displaying a subtle hint of muscle without any telltale green or rough skin. During their time together, Lee couldn't ignore the occasional glances Ian directed toward his shoulders, neck, and chest, revealing a blend of admiration and desire. These glances fueled Lee's fantasies of Ian worshipping him. Sensing an opportunity, Lee discreetly flexed, catching those glances that would tint Ian's cheeks with a blush, relishing every second of the attention and admiration he was receiving. “Sorry,” Ian would say, as Lee would simply smile. In the cozy coffee shop where they had been working for over a month, Lee and Ian were engrossed in both work and gentle flirtations between their two jobs. Weeks of conversation and getting to know each other unfolded somewhat professionally at first. As they talked, Lee couldn't ignore Ian's subtle glances at his muscled shoulders, neck, and chest. Buoyed by newfound confidence, during a brief lull in the conversation, he decided to address Ian’s curiosity. With a playful tone, Lee remarked, "You seem to be quite interested in my muscles, Ian. Enjoying the view?" accompanied by a teasing smile. Ian's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise, and he stammered, "Oh, I didn't mean to be looking. I’m sorry." Lee leaned in a bit closer, his smile growing more mischievous. “You never need to apologize, Ian. I don't mind at all- I kind of want you to notice it." He let the implication hang in the air, making both of his pecs pop up for a second. Ian's eyes widened slightly, but he managed a small, shy smile in response. "You're very kind, Lee but we can’t do this in public. We’re gay and…” His voice trailed off, talking quieter despite no one being within earshot. “I don’t want to be the gay director. I just want to be the director, like you without an accolade for how brave I am to be out at the same time.” Lee gently placed his foot over the top of Ian’s, their legs subtly touching under the coffee table. "Well, Ian, I've really enjoyed working together, but I was wondering if you want to get to know each in private." He held Ian's gaze, anticipation simmering between them. As Lee waited for Ian's response, his mind raced with panic. In the span of a few weeks, he had transformed into someone who could confidently pursue a romantic interest, even while jeopardizing everything at work. He silently chastised himself for letting his desires take control, but goddamn how he wanted to show off his muscle to someone other than himself. He needed to be worshiped like god. Seconds felt like hours as he anxiously awaited Ian's response, hoping that his newfound boldness wouldn't lead to a detrimental turn of events in both his personal and professional life. After a tense pause, Ian returned Lee's gaze with a warm, understanding smile. "You know," he began, "maybe we could continue this conversation over dinner at my place. You could show me how much you like me eyeing your muscle,” he said, his voice soft and inviting, as his cheeks blushed. Lee felt a wave of relief wash over him as Ian's response was not only positive but also carried a hint of playful encouragement. “Fine, but I want enjoy it tonight, so you better bring your A game.” The offer for dinner at Ian's place seemed like a promising, but Lee was hungry to get to know Ian more and for sex. With a sense of anticipation, Lee agreed, "I'd like that, Ian. Dinner at your place sounds great." The clock showed 4 PM, and Lee's heart was pounding away in that coffee shop knowing he could hulk out at any moment, practically trembling with desire. He couldn't help but entertain the wild idea of transforming right there, turning into a big, muscled green man, and seeing how Ian would react. The fantasy played out vividly in his mind, and the mere thought of it made his clothes feel even tighter. Lee chuckled, feeling the growing urge to unleash the Hulk within him. "Then I guess we should get out of here," he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Within 30 minutes, they were already pulling into Ian's driveway. "God, after all that work, I am starving," Ian declared, "What about you? How hungry are you?" He moved closer, sliding his hand around Lee's waist and giving his ass a playful squeeze. "Starving," Lee chuckled, the warning bells screaming in his head growing louder. He wanted this. He needed this. And Ian seemed more than willing to spark the flame. Every day since his first transformation, Lee had been going through the same routine: transform, jerk off a couple of times, and only then would it appease the insatiable Hulk within him enough to remain somewhat human-sized. At the expense of a cum filled toilet or three. As Ian's cold hands slid under Lee's shirt, Lee couldn't help but pause him. This was worth pausing for. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "If we continue with this, I’ll transform into the Hulk. Look,” Lee said showing his finger tips, which already had hints of green and barely flexing as a little more strength noticeably added to him. Ian's face first showed fear and confusing, but it quickly morphed into delight. "Woah, that's cool. You're not angry?" He pulled away slightly. "I can control it and it’s only been when I get in the mood for sex," Lee replied with a newfound confidence, "but I can get really big, and if you keep feeling me up like this, I'm going to grow." He emphasized the situation, looking down at his own bulging muscles beneath the stretched shirt. Ian didn't seem to care. "Just be the gentle, caring man I see at work, and we'll see.” As his hand played in the treasure trail on Lee’s stomach. “Watch,” Lee was aware that he had enough control, but at this point, his shirt wasn't coming off. His muscular frame was already thicker and more imposing, and he wanted Ian to witness his transformation. He did a double bicep flex, flaring his lats, and making sure he looked as large as possible. "Holy shit, man, you're growing right now," Ian exclaimed. "I don’t want to fight it," Lee admitted, a wicked grin forming on his face. "Look at this." He held out his arm, the dress shirt now stretched tight over his bulging bicep and hanging tricep, the fabric showing the green skin, and veins pulsating underneath. "Can I..." Ian's timid voice trailed off. "Touch it, feel it, worship it, but don't take my clothes off," Lee responded confidently. "Let the muscle do that." He bent his arm and flexed, the bicep swelling like a mountain. At this point, he had to be closer to 370lbs and over 6ft tall, it was clear that his clothes were struggling to contain him already. Ian couldn't help but run his hands over Lee's arms, his fingers tracing the green-tinged veins. "This is so cool," he said in amazement, his eyes filled with excitement and desire. His touch sent shivers down Lee's spine as he continued to grow in response to the attention, and he picked up Ian by his arms and deeply kissed him. That’s when a brief moment of clarity stopped him, quickly setting the man down. "I can't," he said with a hint of desperation, his eyes pleading. "If we continue, I'll hulk out, and I don't want to risk hurting you." He took a step back, creating a visible distance between them. "I... I want this so badly, but man, you should see my house. I've crushed the bed, the doors and hallways were too small – it's a mess in there. All I can think about is fucking you." He grunted his voice getting deeper, while trying to physically shake off the intense emotions gripping him. "I want you so badly." As he spoke, he pulled away from Ian, his movements a mix of frustration and internal struggle. He began picking up his, now too small, coat. Sensing the anxiety in Lee, Ian gracefully approached him. He delicately placed a hand on Lee's bulging firm shoulder, a comforting gesture aimed at soothing the turbulent sea of emotions in his sickle-colored muscle man, and ultimately getting Ian’s dick as hard as a rock in his pants. "I can't stop you from leaving, but I want you to stay," Ian expressed with heartfelt sincerity as Lee turned around to face him. "You clearly can control it, and even as big as this, you're still the same gentle, intelligent, and sexy man I've been working with for a couple of weeks now. Even then you were quite huge then." Ian stepped closer, the magnetic pull between them palpable. His hand gracefully slid down to the lone button on Lee's snug waistline, a delicate struggle to release it. As the button yielded, the firm Adonis belt expanded, a subtle yet deciding moment for Lee. "Just let me worship you as you grow," Ian whispered, the words finally getting through to Lee. Lee succumbed to the irresistible pull of his desires. ”Fine, but I want you to earn this," he whispered, his breath carrying a quiet intensity as he initiated a gentle kiss with Ian. The hulk stirred within him, a force that added an electrifying edge to the unfolding passion. "Let's go to your room." Ian led the way down the hallway, anticipation building with every step. In the bedroom, Ian swiftly pulled the blankets off the queen bed, creating a pile on the floor. Lee leaned against the door frame, his presence commanding attention, filling the doorway and nearly as tall. "I am going to lay there, and I want you to do all the work. I want you to see how big you can make me," Lee declared with a hint of challenge, his eyes locked onto Ian. Ian stood there in shock, feeling like he was living a dream. Not only did he have the privilege to worship this man, but he also got to witness something he thought could only happen if a hulk got angry enough. The realization hit him – he would witness this incredible man transform into the hulk, and he would make sure every need was met. Lee moved toward the bed. He wanted nothing more than to hulk out entirely, smash Ian’s ass, and give him such a wild experience he’d need a wheelchair afterwards. He laid down, hands behind his head feeling his relaxed biceps practically creating a pillow for him.The palpable urgency for attention radiated from him as he sprawled across the bed, drawing Ian's gaze. Small tufts of armpit hair peeked out from his increasingly snug sleeves, complemented by chest hair teasingly revealing itself at the neckline of his shirt. Ian approached the bed, every step steeped in anticipation and rightful nervousness - he kept thinking he had to get this write. The air between them crackled with a sensual energy as he climbed onto the bed, taking his time to savor each moment. “Goddamn you’re so hot as it is.” Ian said as he climb up. Ian sensuously slid a leg over Lee's waist. The bottoms of his pants rested against Lee's waistline, and Ian could already feel the massive cock he was sitting on. Leaning forward, Ian's hands explored the terrain of Lee's sculpted stomach and pecs through the fabric of his shirt, relishing the sensation before initiating a slow and lingering kiss on Lee's lips. "I don't want you to move," Ian whispered, his voice a gentle command that hung in the air. "Unless I say." A soft, contented smile played on Lee's lips, a barely audible "ughh" escaping as he surrendered to the moment his body slowly getting larger. “Yeah, and what happens if I do?” Ian laughed. “I’ll go faster.” He threatened. With a deliberate and sensual touch, Ian began massaging Lee's pecs, his fingers making subtle impressions as he stroked the growing beast beneath him, thoroughly amazed. The initial rips teased the fabric of Lee's shirt, revealing glimpses of the burgeoning strength beneath. Lee move his hands away from his head and flexed his pecs and biceps, the cloth ripping even more against the expanding muscles. Ian's hands roamed over Lee's clothed body, exploring the contours that seemed to evolve with each passing moment. Kisses were planted wherever Ian could find a piece of exposed skin, each touch laden with a mix of desire and adoration. From Lee’s hairy pits to his neck, not a single part of Lee wasn’t kissed, sucked or licked from the waist up. As Ian leaned forward, their cocks unintentionally brushed against each other, further arousing them both. In the midst of the fun, the zipper on Lee's pants exploded to the growing force within, bursting open with a distinct sound of metal tearing away from cloth. Lee's laughter filled the room, the timbre of his voice now deeper, resonating with the primal satisfaction of the hulk within. Grunts escaped, a symphony of pleasure as Lee reveled in every sensation Ian was orchestrating, a harmonious blend of passion and delight. “You’re so fucking good at this.” Lee laughed. “I’ve got to be 8ft tall already, and that’s just the pre-show” Ian, unable to resist the escalating desire, he tore open Lee's shirt, exposing the chiseled and hairy chest.Ian's hungry mouth eagerly sought Lee's nipples, savoring the texture and reveling in the tactile pleasure of the hair that adorned them. This allowed Ian to nestle his head against Lee's warm skin, establishing an intimate sanctuary where every breath was shared, and every heartbeat echoed in the space between them for a few minutes. “You’re so far from done,” Lee grumbled, his burly deep voice shaking his chest. Simultaneously, Ian utilized Lee’s lats as the next closest hand-hold for the mountain he was climbing. "Goddamn, you're getting huge," Ian exclaimed, his breath hitching as he made his way back up to Lee's now larger mouth. Everything had expanded, and Ian found himself repositioning on Lee's now colossal abs just to reach the lips of his transformed pro-bodybuilder lover, now a captivating shade of green. "This is fucking nothing," Lee declared between kisses, a hint of playfulness in his voice as he effortlessly ripped off his sleeves. His arms and chest, now fully exposed, showcased the magnificence of his transformed physique. Ian, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of Lee's size, grabbed Lee's wrist, his gaze fixed on the enormous green fist. Lee opened his hand, allowing Ian to bring it closer to his chest, the contrast between their sizes accentuating the surreal nature of the moment. "This is insane," Ian marveled, his voice tinged with awe. Seizing the opportunity, Lee swiftly moved both hands to Ian’s collar, effortlessly tearing open Ian's shirt. “That was my favorite shirt,” “Uhhh… It got… uhhnn… in my way…” Lee said growing a little more with each break in words. The muscles in Lee's chest remained relaxed, the effortless display of strength causing a noticeable twitch in his pecs. Ian, captivated by the raw power and sensuality before him, realized that his task was far from over. Ian, as he turned around, was greeted not only by the spectacle of Lee's pants ripping open but also by the revelation of Lee's colossal, muscled legs. Each muscle stood out in exquisite definition, creating a landscape of raw power. His feet full exposed and twice their original size, hanging off the bed. Calves, reminiscent of basketballs, flexed with every movement, while thighs, resembling sturdy tree trunks, showcased the sheer magnitude of Lee's transformed physique. The fabric of Lee's underwear strained against the monumental force beneath, surrendering to the impressive girth of his legs. However, Ian's attention was further captivated by the explicit sight of Lee's massive green mushroom head peeking out of the increasingly small boxer briefs. It glistened, dripping with pre-cum, and ripe for the taking. The sheer volume was enough to arouse an insatiable thirst in Ian, and the allure was undeniable. He delicately repositioned himself, his eagerness palpable, poised to savor every moment. With a tender passion, he deep-throated Lee’s massive cock, eager to indulge in its salty richness, encouraged by the beast ecstasy laced moans. Ian's fervent suction echoed the intensity of his own desire. Immersed in the passionate dance, Ian occasionally gasped for air before being lifted away from it by a much larger Lee, now holding him over Lee like a doll The transition, though abrupt, added a new dimension to the unfolding intimacy. "I wanted you… uh… to go…uhh… slowly," Lee expressed, his voice deepening with each grumble, as he approached a 12ft tall mass barely able to fit on the bed from the waist up, and shredded to all hell. “You destroyed my shirt.” He said, color draining from his face as he saw the look of anger on Lee’s face. Holding Ian as if he were barely any weight at all the naked green muscle giant rolled off the bed slouching, his thick muscled back pressed into the ceiling as he placed Ian on the edge of the bed. “Not, it’s… uhhh… my turn…” He ripped open his briefs, which were practically posers at this point. With Lee's robust fingers, he tore open Ian's pants, revealing a less than average dick and it’s slightly pubic region. Placing one hand at the lips of Lee's penis head, Lee skillfully used the other hand to trace the main vein, collecting the pre-cum. Clothing, just wouldn’t do anymore. "Get your pants off," Lee ordered, his commanding tone carrying a blend of authority and longing. The room buzzed with the charged atmosphere, a manifestation of the shared passion between them. Ian did so as quickly as possible, unsure if he could handle such a large man at 15” long and thick as a can of beer. Once naked, Lee took one of his thick fingers, coated it in his pre-cum, and skillfully teased Ian's asshole. “There you go…” Lee laughed as he gave into his own desires. The touch was gentle yet purposeful, creating a sensation that worked to relax Ian, all the while growing a little more. As Lee massaged Ian’s asshole looser and looser, Ian, driven by the arousal that enveloped him, began to stroke his own erect penis. It was an aggressive external prostate massage like no other. Lee coated then his cock with the puddle of pre-cum in his monstrous hand smiling down at nervous little man who was desperately wanting more. With deliberate slowness, he began to penetrate Ian, who moaned in response with an immediate dry climax, his body jerking in a matter of minutes. “Ahh…. Holy shit …. Oh my god…” As Lee fucked Ian deeper and harder, gradually picking up the pace enjoying the dents the bed frame was making in the wall. The massive presence of the beastly figure loomed over Ian, holding his body in place and pressing him quiet deeply into the mattress. Ian's little asshole was pounded by the massive hulk, pleasure coursing between them in another oozing climax shuddering Ian’s body even more intensely than the last. At this point, Ian hardly knew where he was as he played with the massive pair of pecs moving over his head, Lee’s sweat dripping on Ian’s face, burning his eyes. The Hulk's thrusts suddenly intensified and Lee's breathing became increasingly ragged. The fury in Lee's eyes bore into Ian's, and he could sense the twitches and jerks signaling an impending climax inside him. With a heaving growl, Ian felt the surge within as Lee reached his peak before a warmth erupted inside him. Lee pulled out, and cum erupted, showering Ian's body in thick streams. Ian found himself practically bathed in cum, the aftermath of Lee's intense climax, as Lee began to shrink, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Holy shit..." Ian gasped, breathless, sinking into the bed and wrapped in the warmth of the cum coating his chest. It was more than he had ever experienced, both in terms of sheer quantity and intensity. The room was filled with the post-coital haze, and Ian couldn't help but express his amazement. "That was... intense, Lee," Ian chuckled, a mix of disbelief and satisfaction in his voice. "I didn't know the Hulk….” He sighed out of breath, his mind still reeling from the pounding his asshole just took. “Could do that.” Lee, now more human-sized, grinned mischievously. "Well, surprises are my specialty. You enjoyed it, though?" Ian blushed but couldn't hide his smile. “I didn’t expect it to be so big… you to be so…fucking… oh my god.” He said griping his dick, striking himself still. Lee chuckled, leaning in closer. "Maybe we should consider more unexpected things together." Ian raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Is that an invitation, Dr. Banner?" Laughter echoed through the room, a harmonious blend that marked a shift in the atmosphere from intense to relaxed and playful. Amidst the mirth, Lee's voice cut through, teasing Ian with a light-hearted remark. "Call it whatever you want, Ian, but I believe we're far from finished." In response, a smaller version of the Hulk, with a mischievous grin, knelt before Ian. The playful atmosphere continued as Lee began licking and sucking on Ian's cock and balls. Ian, caught off guard, succumbed to an unexpected climax, releasing a load that surprised even him as he was sucked dry. Lee, evidently eager for a little snack, added a playful touch to the moment, creating an air of mutual enjoyment and gratitude between Lee and Ian. "We should probably get in the shower," Ian suggested, idly playing with the puddle of cum on his chest, letting it drip from his hand. Lee, still catching his breath, responded with a hint of embarrassment looking at Ian play with his cum, "Oh yeah, it’s that much every time." Naked, they walked to the restroom together, and Lee couldn't help but notice the delirious nature of Ian - something that could only be attributed to a good dicking. It was as if he was floating on a cloud, partially present and something else Lee couldn't quite pinpoint. Once in the restroom, Ian turned the shower to the max, allowing the steam to fill the space with warmth. As they made out once more, Lee enjoyed the feeling of sticking to Ian's chest. It was then that he observed something off about Ian—something beyond the post-sex high. Lee noticed Ian fighting a nausea that he knew all too well. A quick glance at Ian's eyes revealed pale irises that mirrored his own. In that moment, Lee realized he had unwittingly triggered another transformation, creating another Hulk. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and a sense of both awe and concern washed over him. "Ian," Lee murmured, breaking away from their embrace. “take a deep breath, I think your going to become a hulk like me.” Ian, still caught in the euphoria of the moment, shrugged it off. "I'm fine, just a bit dizzy. Probably all that intense... activity.” His voice dropped at the last word. Lee's concern deepened. "No, Ian, it's more than that. I think I might have triggered infected you. We need to—" Before Lee could finish his sentence, the transformation kicked into high gear. The room resonated with Ian's initial scared groans, bones audibly shifting as his growth unfolded. The once steam-filled room now housed an enlarged Ian, and a mix of fear and excitement gripped him, enjoying it. As Lee observed his friend morph into a lumbering hulk, he couldn’t be more tuned on. Laughter escaped Ian, echoing darkly in the room, as he embraced his new power, and Lee couldn't contain his anticipation for the thrilling moments ahead, eager to enjoy Ian's transformation into a formidable hulk.

Hi there. Hope you're all doing great. Had some time on my hands so started out writing a story for fun. I have the whole thing finished, so I thought I would post some of it here. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think. I'll post some more in the next couple of days. Doing It! “Are we really doing this?” “Yes! We really are going to do this!” Cody pushed the large silver syringe towards Grant. “This is really happening. It isn’t a game?” Grant picked up the metal syringe and took a look at the cylinder that lay within. “It’s not a game. You asked for the shit, and I got it for you. Now it’s up to you.” Cody’s cock was hard in his jeans from him just imagining what the rest of the day held. Sure, he could go to jail for stealing a top secret formula from a lab he was interning at, but he didn’t care if it meant Grant got what he deserved, and what he deserved was ultimate size. he two had met at the gym. Cody had always been an avid gym goer, but he was more used to places like Peak Fitness or Ultimate Gym, not The Metalworks that was ten minutes away from the lab he had recently started at right after grad school. Being self conscious at first about working out at a gym that catered more towards serious lifters, he hadn’t really paid Grant much notice besides glancing at his built physique in passing. No. Six months would pass before the two men would even speak to one another. When they did, it wouldn’t even be in the gym, but the parking lot. Cody had been at the lab late and decided that before he went home to sleep, he would get a quick workout in. After having gone through a routine set out for him by his online personal trainer, he changed into his trousers and shirt and was back in his car an hour later. The problem he had was that the car refused to start. Banging his hand on the wheel several times out of frustration, he popped the hood and exited the car in hopes that it would be an easy fix. Looking into the dark cavernous expanse that held his car’s engine by the light of his cell phone flashlight, Cody knew that he had no clue what the issue was. It could be anything! “Problem?” Cody looked up to see a tall, muscular, hunk of a man standing next to him. He had a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye that Cody couldn’t help seeing even in the semi darkness of the parking lot. “I… my car. It’s dead.” “You call for a tow?” The larger man leaned on the car and looked under the hood. Cody wondered how old the man was. His hair was dark and full, but there was a hint of silver at the temples. His face was tanned yet only slightly lined, while the energy he was giving off let Cody know that he had seen and done a lot in his life. “No. Not yet. I thought… I don’t know. I thought that just by looking at it it would let me know what was wrong!” The man turned his head and smiled up at Cody. “Want me to give you a jump? I have cables in my Jeep.” “Yeah! That would be great. Think that will fix it?” “Can’t hurt.” The man walked away from Cody on large and muscular legs with glutes to match. Cody estimated he had to be about 6’3 and over 200lbs of thick muscle. A few minutes later, he had driven his black Jeep over to Cody, jumped out of the drivers side door and was hooking jumper cables up to both of their engines. “Try turning it over.” Cody looked dumbfounded at him. “Turn on your car.” “Oh! Right!” Cody hopped in the front seat, turned the key, and was rewarded with his car coming miraculously to life. “Thank you so much!” “No problem.” The man unhooked the jumper cables, lifted his arm so that his bicep jumped to attention, and began to wind them up around an elbow and meaty hand. “You saved my life. Not sure if towing comes with my insurance.” Cody felt his cock harden slightly as he watched the man finish winding up the cables, and wished it was being manhandled by such large hands. “You should check that out. Have a good night.” With that, he hopped into his Jeep and drove off into the night. From then on, whenever Cody went to the gym, his mysterious hero seemed to be there. Cody would secretly watch him lift, in awe of his brute strength and dedication to muscle. Cody must have been staring for too long before the guy walked over to him and broke him out of the X-rated fantasy that was playing on the screen in his mind. “Take a picture. It will last longer.” The guy slapped Cody on the ass and walked past him. Cody went through the motions of the rest of his workout, embarrassed at being caught staring, but also slightly turned on by the feel of the man’s hand on his ass. It was in the parking lot that night that he caught the guy standing next to his Jeep checking his phone. As Cody walked to his car, he called out: “Hey Tom!” “Tom?” “Peeping Tom. What I call you since I don’t know your name.” “It’s Cody. I wasn’t staring…” “No?” “No… I was thinking.” “That’s too bad. I’d hoped you were staring.” The man turned around and opened his Jeep door. “You… hoped I had been staring?” “Yeah. I’ve stared at that hot ass of yours plenty of times.” Cody was thankful it was dark so that the guy couldn’t see him blush. “You… have?” “Yeah. That okay?” “Sure. That’s… fine with me.” “Good. I’m Grant.” “Cody. Nice to meet you.” The two shook hands. Electricity passed through Cody as Grant gripped him tight. “I’m going to grab something to eat at my restaurant if you want to join me.” “Your restaurant?” “Best steaks in the 50 states. You do eat meat, right?” “Yeah! I love meat!” “Good to know. Follow me.” That night had been the beginning of months filled with excitement and passion. The two men, so very different, found that their differences made them perfect for each other. Soon, Cody was moving into Grant's large home, and the two were thinking of each other as a serious couple. It was while they were working out five months later that Cody brought up the project he was slightly a part of at work. “In a way… it’s going to help with your businesses. Imagine cows twice or three times the size. Imagine the steaks!” “So… this formula… it’s going to grow bigger cows?” “Not just cows. Pigs, chickens. Bigger animals… more food.” “Fuck the cows. Give it to me!” Grant laughed as he began curling a 50 lbs dumbbell. “Let’s grow this beast!” “Yeah right. Imagine! I’ve seen the trials on rats. Fuck they got huge. Twice the size.” Cody lifted a 15 lbs dumbbell and began curling as well. “I’m not joking. Let them know if they want a human trial… they can have me!” Grant laughed as he dropped the dumbbell to the floor and went off in search of something heavier. Cody knew Grant wasn’t joking. He was obsessed with size and muscle, and to have something that could get him even bigger would be a dream come true. Cody wanted to be the person that could give him that. He had made Cody happier than he had ever been in his life, and he could think of no better way to thank him. It was a month and a half later before Cody found himself left alone in the lab to lock up. The solution had been handed to him by his superior and told to log how much they had given to the test subjects and locked away. It was easy enough to pull up an entire syringe full, drop the large vial on the floor, and write in the log that it had been lost due to an accident. He walked out of the lab with the syringe in his coat pocket imagining the possibilities. Now, they were both in the bathroom of the gym. Cody couldn't wait to let Grant know of his theft, causing the larger man to grab him and drag him into the bathroom. “I just… what… inject it?” Grant looked up at Cody. He was hard in his sweatpants and began rubbing his cock with his other hand. “I’ll do it. It will go in your glute.” “Right. How much?” “Well… that’s the issue. I have no clue. It’s only been tested on rats.” “And I’m a pretty big rat.” “You are. I drew up an entire syringe because I imagined that would be the dose you would need.” “Then, let’s go with the syringe.” Grant pulled his sweat pants down and faced away from Cody. “Let’s do this!” Without even thinking twice, just happy he could give this to Grant, Cody drove the needle of the syringe deep into the muscle, pulled back to make sure there was no blood, and then pressed the dark liquid home. “Fuck! It burns!” “Almost there!” 40 seconds later, the solution was in Grant and Cody was pulling the needle out. “How long does it take?” “It’ll be about a week to two weeks before we notice any changes.” “Right. How much you think I’ll gain?” “Estimate… about a hundred to a hundred and twenty-five pounds of muscle.” Grant's cock jumped just hearing that. He pulled Cody towards him and the two began to kiss. The next day, at the lab, Cody was disciplined severely for his ‘accident’ with the formula, but nothing else came about the theft. He was happy he had gotten away with it and still felt sore from the multiple times Grant had fucked him that night after their workout.. It was 3:00 in the afternoon when Cody’s cell phone went off. It was Grant. “Hey, Babe! How’s the restaurant?” “I’m driving home.” “What’s wrong?” “Nothings wrong. It’s working!” “What?” “I’m growing!” “That’s not possible. It’s just your imagination.” “You tell that to… oh fuck! You tell that to my body!” “I’ll be right there.” After a quick lie about severe diarrhoea, Cody was on his way home. He called Grant once he got in the car, but his boyfriend didn’t pick up. The house was only twenty minutes away, but he seemed to catch every light possible. It wasn’t possible that Grant could be showing signs of muscle growth already. It usually took ten days before any difference was noted, and about six months before the rat had grown to its largest size. It had only been a day since Grant had been injected… not even 24 hours! Cody drove up to their house and parked in the driveway next to Grants Jeep. The first thing Cody noticed as he walked up to the house was that the front door was wide open and Grant’s keys were still in the lock. Walking into the house, he called out to Grant but didn’t receive an answer. Moving into the living room, he noticed the clothes Grant had been wearing were scattered around on the floor with both the shirt and trousers having rips and tears in the fabric. Moving into the kitchen, he found both of Grant’s sneakers, but the front near the laces as well as the sides of them had been destroyed as if something had unexpectedly exploded out of them. Cody’s heart began to beat faster as he heard several deep grunts and groans coming from the master bedroom. Crossing into the room, he audibly gasped at what he saw. Standing in front of the large mirror was Grant, but it was nothing like the Grant he had kissed goodbye that morning. The Grant that was flexing one arm while jerking his cock with the other hand while admiring himself in the mirror was a brute… a muscle beast. Everything about Grant was now… bigger. Every muscle group on his body was swollen way beyond any pump he had ever had. It was obvious that Grant must have not only gained 50 plus pounds of muscle mass in the last couple of hours, but he now stood several inches taller than the 6’ 2” he had been that morning. Cody couldn't take his eyes off of his boyfriend. He looked so huge and primal standing there in front of the mirror posing and flexing various muscle groups for himself; turning himself on in the process. Cody looked downward at Grant’s cock, rising up like a monument to his virility. Where it had always been above average at 8”, it now stretched to what had to be a thick 10 incher. Grant caught Cody’s eye in the mirror. “What do you think?” Grant pulled a most muscular pose for Cody forcing every muscle group to swell even larger. “I don’t understand.” “If you don’t understand… how do you think I feel!” Grant moved closer to Cody who now felt so much smaller in his presence. “It shouldn’t work this way. You look like you've been on it for 5 weeks now… not one day.” “Imagine me in 5 weeks!” Grant's cock swelled, releasing a wad of precum. “Maybe this is it. Maybe on humans the growth occurs all at once.” “No. This is just the start. I can feel it.” Grant ran his large hand over his pecs and down his abs. “What do you mean?” Grant moved closer to Cody until he was nearly on top of him. Grant had always been larger than Cody, but now the phenomenal growth he had gone through made it seem as if he were the size of two men combined. “There’s a new energy in me.” Grant grabbed Cody around the waist and pulled him to him. “I felt it this morning. At first, I didn’t know what it was, and grew worried when I felt it fill my body, becoming more and more powerful.” With his right hand, Grant caressed Cody’s face. “Throughout the morning into the afternoon, it kept getting stronger and stronger until I thought I was going to either have a heart attack or explode due to high blood pressure. I was sweating… my heart was racing… and then the cramps began.” Cody could feel Grant’s hard cock pressing against him as Grant told the incredible story of his growth. “All the air escaped from my lungs as if I was punched in the stomach. I staggered into a bathroom at the restaurant and locked the door. The pressure seemed to be focusing on my chest, but it wasn’t my heart. It was my pecs… and they had both started to swell!” Grant leaned down and brought his face closer and closer to Cody’s until the two began to kiss. Grant's tongue was welcomed as it slid into Cody’s mouth. He released a slight groan as Grant held him with more strength than he had possessed before. Cody could feel the much larger and more muscular body pressing against him, and was marvelling at how thick Grant felt as he wrapped his arms around him. The two kissed even deeper as they became more and more aroused. Cody was shocked when Grant pulled away, but from the wild look in his eye, Cody knew Grant wanted more. Lifting his considerable hands to Cody’s shirt, Grant started to massage the smaller man’s nipples. Cody groaned again, feeling his cock straining for release against his trousers. “I could feel muscle mass building on top of muscle mass… dividing… replicating… until my pecs began to swell and press against my shirt much more than they had minutes before. Then it began to spread to my abs… my quads… my lats… my biceps. My entire body was exploding with new and powerful muscle.” As if to demonstrate his new strength, Grant grabbed onto Cody’s shirt, and with a powerful tug, tore it from his body. Cody nearly came as he watched buttons and fabric fall to the floor from his light blue dress shirt. Grant then lifted Cody off of his feet and carried him to the bed where he proceeded to throw him on top of it. “I knew I had to get out of there. My clothes had begun to look painted onto my body and I had no doubt they would soon start to tear… and to be honest… I wanted to see that happen in front of a mirror! I told the head chef I felt sick and raced to my car. As I went to unlock it, my hands began to shake and spasm, and the fob fell to the floor.” Grant grabbed the waist of Cody’s pants and dragged him closer to the edge of the bed. “As I leaned down to pick it up, my ass exploded outwards; my glutes thickened with muscles until the seat of my jeans split. I can’t tell you how incredible it feels to have your muscle mass bursting through your clothes! What I failed to take into account was that it wasn’t only my muscles that were starting to grow. Everything about me was joining in.” With that, Grant tore off Cody’s trousers with a grunt, shredded his briefs, and with a grin on his face, lifted Cody’s legs up in the air and ploughed his monumental cock into Cody’s waiting hole. Cody screamed in agony and ecstasy. It wasn’t simply that Grant’s cock head had grown thicker than he had been used to taking. It was the fact that Grant’s cock seemed harder and more rigid than it had ever been in the past. Feeling the shaft being forced further and further into him felt like he was being fucked by a flesh and blood steel girder. Finally feeling Grant’s balls, which had also grown marginally, slapping against his ass, Cody opened his eyes just so he could watch the beast Grant had grown into fuck him. Grant was staring down at him, and smiled when he caught Cody’s eye. Leaning in further, he raised Cody upward with one arm and the two proceeded to kiss while Grant continued his frantic rhythm. “I was growing, babe,” Grant grunted into his ear as he fucked him harder and deeper. “As I drove… feeling my shoes getting tighter… feeling my hands and spine lengthening… all I could think was… it was you who gave this to me!” Cody looked deep into Grant’s eyes, feeling the pressure of a coming orgasm rising up within him. “Finally… fuck! You’re still so fucking tight!” “I’m not… tight! You’re… much… bigger!” Cody felt his balls begin to rise up in their sack as the strong orgasmic feeling enveloped his body. Soon, his hard cock began shooting rope after rope of cum. As Grant lowered him back onto the bed, he was still buried deep within Cody. Watching Cody cum, he knew he was only moments away from it himself. Grabbing onto Cody’s waist, he began to pound himself deeper into Cody’s ass. “It’s still… with me… Cody. I can… feel… it. Every minute… it’s getting… stronger! Soon… I’ll grow again… and again… and again! Soon… my body… will be… just massive… throbbing.., pulsating… flexing… muscle!!!!!” Grant growled the last word as he began unleashing load after hot load of cum into Cody. Feeling such liquid fire in his bowels caused Cody to erupt again. His body spasmed as Grant began to slide his cock out of him, and proceeded to drop several more thick loads onto Cody’s stomach and chest. Both of their seeds mixed on Cody as they fought to catch their breaths. “Damn… you shot a lot!” Cody grinned. “Yeah. Never had an orgasm like that one. Really strong. Like me.” Grant bounced his weighty pecs. Grant proceeded to grab a towel to clean Cody up with, but instead of a washcloth it now took a hand towel! The two men then showered together as best as they could since Grant now took up much more space. After they had dried themselves off, Cody began to get dressed, but Grant remained naked. He suddenly seemed on edge, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Anytime now… anytime now…” “Can you really… still feel it?” Cody slipped his left sock on, but stopped to look at Grant. “The growth?” “Yeah. It’s there. Gotten much stronger in the last couple of minutes. You’ll be able to witness your gift in action!” “Aren’t you… aren’t you nervous? This is happening so fast.” “Fuck no! I love it. Since I was a kid I wanted to be huge… powerful… built like Superman in the comics.” “You’re built like him now!” “I know! So just imagine what I’ll look like next… or the time after that… or the time after that. Fuck! I want you to do me a favour.” Grant moved quickly to his dresser and began digging through a drawer. “What?” Grant pulled out a measuring tape and handed it to Cody. “Measure me. Before I grow again.” “Okay.” Cody wrapped the tape around Grant’s right quad. “Your quad is 35 inches.” “Fuck yeah. Go on.” Cody moved the tape to Grant’s waist. “Your waist is 36 inches” “Go on.” “Your chest… it’s… 70 inches.” “Go on!” “Your bicep is… 25 inches.” “Neck?” “Your neck is 20 inches.” “My cock? Measure my cock.” Cody did as he was told. He took Grant's hard cock in his hands, running the tape down the length of it. “Your cock is 10.5 inches long and 5 inches thick.” “Fuck yeah! How tall?” Cody could hear Grant’s heart pounding in his chest. “That’s going to be harder. Go against the wall.” “Quick. Quick! I can feel it.” Grant leaned against the wall while Cody drew a line with a pencil. When Grant stepped away, he moved quickly into the bathroom, leaving Cody to take the measurement. When he crossed back into the room, Cody was waiting for him. “You’re 6’5… up 3 inches from what you used to be.” “I’ve also gained 110 lbs in muscle. Up from 220 to 330. Isn’t that crazy! You thought I’d gain 100 lbs in 6 months! I've done it in a day! In a day!” Grant grabbed Cody and started to kiss him. “Grant… I…” “Don’t be nervous! It’s all good! It’s what I want. It’s a dream come true! When I hit 220, I was at my biggest, and now look at me. 330 lbs of muscle! 6’5 inches tall! I got a fucking 70 inch chest… and the cock of a horse… and my balls… always full… always churning…. I’m strong as hell now… but…” Grant pulled away from Cody with a grin on his face. “Any second, Cody! Any… second!” Cody could see beads of sweat erupting on Grant’s forehead. Lifting both arms, Grant flexed them. He then flexed his pecs… his lats… his quads…. “Much stronger than before, Cody. Much… much stronger. Cody’s heart raced as he watched Grant flex and relax every muscle group on his body over and over again. His eyes were closed, and his head had fallen back slightly on his bull neck. That was when Cody realized that Grant wasn’t flexing his muscles in preparation of a growth spurt. His body was doing it under no control of Grant’s. Cody stepped backwards, and ran into the bed. Unsure what was about to happen, Cody sat down on the soft mattress, never once taking his eyes off of Grant. “This is… it… Cody! This… is…”

First story here, hope you guys like it . As a small note, while the story involves a father and son there´s no incest btw. (Someone reminded me I hadn't reposted this from the old forums, so here it is again, I should add there were some hot suggestions in the comments previously but I don´t plan to continue this story, if anyone wants to use a similar concept like this one they're more than welcome to do so) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Danny eyed the suspicious box he had received, he could only come up with one person that would send an unmarked and unexpected gift, but he wanted to give his rival more credit than that. At least a little bit. He considered getting rid of it, or just pretend he didn't get it, even if that meant showing he was actually scared of what might happen. "No, Marvin would just love that" Danny muttered under his breath. Both Danny and Marvin were part of a secret group, few select people that unlocked their potential for magic, and ever since Danny joined and showed innate talent, smarts and good looks, Marvin, the previous star member had been a pest for him. It wasn't until a few weeks back that Danny got a higher rank than Marvin that the man actually lost it and stormed out of a meeting, Danny would pity him if he wasn't a goddamn jerk. After that scene Marvin hadn't shown his face near Danny, and now this anonymous box, reeking of magic showed up out of nowhere. (Maybe dad received it, but he always opens my stuff...) Danny thought, he lived with his dad and there was nobody else that could get the box inside. (Whatever, knowing Marvin is probably just a stupid mildly inconvenient enchantment) He gave another look at the medium sized box and decided to leave if alone for now, and do a little research on some dispelling methods to get the *gift* safely, it shouldn't take too long for him. Hours passed and Danny had lost track of time, somewhat losing interest in Marvin's childish behavior and doing some actual important research on the side. He was so focused on his texts and spell components that he didn't hear his dad coming home. Leonard, Danny's father, was a middle-aged man, but still good looking, fit, confident and strong headed, he entered his home as he always did and spotted the box. Leonard gave it a quick look, Danny was already home so that meant this box wasn't for him, so he figured that whatever was inside was meant for him and not his son. Leonard took the box and went to his room before opening it, once he saw what was inside, he couldn't help but chuckle. "This little fucker" Leonard said between laughs. Inside the box, was what seemed to be an ordinary fleshjack, Leonard recognized it instantly and examined it intently. (He must think I don't get laid enough, well not with him still in the house) Leonard thought still amused, the fleshjack even seemed to be fit for his size, but it was probably just an average one, in fact it didn't have any other particular detail. (But why not give it a try?) He wasn't one to squander a chance like this. Leonard got comfortable on his bed, and jerked his cock a bit to get it fully hard, it was already half hard after seeing the toy. His thick 7 inches rose to full mast and Leonard lubed his cock, he was getting more excited to give it a try, having a toy made to fulfill his sexual needs was something that he never thought about, but seemed very enticing now. Leonard gripped the fleshjack and placed it on top of his cock, gently lowering it as his cockhead entered it, he moaned as his cock was enveloped by the toy, slowly and deliciously gripping inch after inch of Leonard's cock. "Fuck..." Leonard groaned, the fleshjack felt perfect around his cock, as it belonged there, as if the toy molded itself around his member. He knew that these things got better as time passed and all that, but he never imagined how good it could feel. Leonard grabbed the toy with one hand and lifted it, feeling the seamless friction in his cock leaving, and then lowered the fleshjack again, the sensation coming back, his toes curled and he stopped for a moment, groaning and moaning, he didn't want to cum just yet, he had to keep fucking this thing for as long as he could... ------------- Danny finally got his stuff in order, and with a potential dispelling method, materials and safeguards, he went back downstairs where the box was, except it no longer was there. "Huh? Where is it?" He was so absorbed in his own feud that he forgot about the potential third party in his own house that could've taken the box. (Is that it? A disappearing box?) He knew Marvin was petty and sort of an idiot but apparently even that was giving him too much credit. Danny examined the living room and any other place that might have been affected somehow by the unknown magic box yet nothing was different. (Whatever, it's not like I was that excited or anything) He examined the table again, no residual magic or any trace whatsoever, angry and frustrated he went to his room, this time to do something actually worth his time. ----- Leonard meanwhile was beyond horny, his pace had sped up and the toy was bobbing up and down on his cock, the man was so focused on his own pleasure, eyes closed and the occasional grunt, that he hadn't noticed the toy was heavier, bigger in fact, not only that, but Leonard's cock was still fitting perfectly inside it. The fleshjack had grown thicker and made for an 8 incher, each time Leonard's cock entered it, the cock came out slightly bigger, before entering the toy and stretching it bigger as well, the cycle being repeated over and over. Leonard wasn't even aware that as horny as he was, as fast as he was handling the toy, he wasn't able to cum even if he wanted to, only abundant precum flowed inside the toy, keeping it well lubed and easy to fulfill its purpose. "Fucking... Fuck... So good..." Leonard said mindlessly, grabbing now the fleshjack with both hands with some space to spare as the toy and the cock inside it had grown beyond 9 inches now. Leonard didn't even think about that fact, his hands pumping the toy as if his life depended on it, faster and harder, speeding up the cycle more and more... ---- Danny managed to calm down after distracting himself for a while, he opened the window and took a deep breath, but he only got to that point before he noticed his dad's car on the driveway and realized that he had completely ignored the possibility that his dad... Danny's phone rang, he angrily picked it up to quickly tell whoever was calling to fuck off. "What?!" He growled, hoping the person got the hint. "Haha! So, I take it you got my *present*" A disdainful voice said, Danny recognized it instantly. "Oh, you mean your disappearing box? Very clever, hope you didn't bust too many braincells coming up with it" Danny figured he could play it cool; his dad might be okay, the magic didn't seem to be that powerful if it didn't leave any trace. "What do you mean?" Marvin quickly bit the bait. "You don't fool me, you sounded pissed off, you must have opened it!" "I'm pissed off because a moron interrupted me after already wasting my time with a useless box" Danny replied. "Or was it supposed to do something worthwhile? Unlike you" He hoped Marvin would give him the information he needed about the gift. "But... You shouldn't be able to... Do anything right now" Marvin said stunned, Danny had to bite his tongue to keep his facade. "I paid a lot for that curse!" "Damn, you can't even make your own curses. Pathetic even for you." Danny regained some confidence after humiliating Marvin for now. "So you're not going to tell me what it was meant to do? It really is the thought that counts with gifts you know." Marvin had to answer now, he had to... "FUCK YOU!" Maybe Danny had pushed him too far. "I know it's there, you must've tried to get rid of it, but let me tell you that you can't. It's going to find you one way or another, even if I have to get involved..." Marvin hanged up. "Damn it!" Now Danny had to expect that idiot to show up any time now, it was pretty late night already, not that he could get anyone else involved. And speaking of anyone else... Danny rushed to his dad's room, preparing to shield himself or fight something off, as he approached, he could hear some noises, but nothing too bad, maybe a light struggle or something just as innocuous. He opened the door and braced himself, not that it was of any use at the sight that greeted him. Leonard was on his back and fucking a now huge fleshjack, holding it firmly with an obvious desperate grip, his hips trusting wildly, his huge cock going in and out of the toy, he was fucking with fervor, the now 11 inches fleshjack welcoming his cock and granting it more size with each trust. Danny stared at the scene completely numb, his dad not only had a huge cock but was fucking a toy completely out of his mind. It took a long while for Danny to come to his senses, his dad just kept fucking the toy, either not caring or noticing that his own son was now in the room, but it was as Danny noticed that the fleshjack was growing along his dad's cock that he snapped back to reality and tried to formulate a plan. "Dad! Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Danny approached slowly, fearing his dad might decide the toy was not enough and decided to go for the nearest person. After getting no response he came close to Leonard's face. "Dad! Come on, say something!" "So... Fucking... Horny..." Leonard said between trusts and heavy breaths, his face was covered in sweat, just as the rest of his body, his face was the picture of pleasure and libido, he slowed down his pace, getting tired after fucking for hours and not being able to cum. "What the hell..." Danny watched as his dad's huge cock had grown even bigger now, easily surpassing twelve inches and with an intimidating girth, the veins in the member were angry and pulsing and the man's balls were definitely bigger too, full and aching for a release that had been withheld for so long. Leonard turned to his side and now fucked the toy slowly, as if making love to it, still drooling and groaning like a madman. "Shit..." Danny was also getting horny but he had to avoid whatever curse this was, he left the room quickly and closed the door. (Think...) Danny paced outside his dad's room, the obscene noises speeding up again as his dad probably started furiously fucking the toy again. (The thing makes your horny just by being near it, no wonder he's gone mad with lust when fucking it...) Danny kept trying to figure out the nature of the magic. (But why is it growing?...) He quickly remembered the dispelling materials and ran to gather them, hopefully he found the right one. ----- Leonard roared in pleasure, his hips and hands pumping with abandon his now 13 incher inside the fleshjack, he somehow wasn't tired yet, his arms still felt strong just like his lower body, in fact they felt even more vigorous now. His heavily inflated balls pulsed with another wave of growth, full to the brim with cum and producing enough testosterone for 2 young virile men, all of it keeping Leonard in his sexual frenzy, yet the toy didn’t let him cum. His enormous cock was dumping precum nonstop, so much that it leaked down to his balls and thighs, keeping the fleshjack lubed as the member expanded, the room reeked of sex and sweat, the toy started creaking as it once again grew to accommodate the now 14 thick incher inside it. Leonard opened his eyes, and could see his own huge member swallowed by the fleshjack, he felt like a bull, like a big virile bull in rut, his fat balls ached for release but he didn't want to stop either. The door to the room was kicked open as Danny entered, he quickly arranged the components and recited the spell. (This has to work) He thought. Seconds felt like minutes as the magic energy flowed and stuck to the cursed fleshjack, both magic energies clashing together. Danny held his breath, hoping to see the purple energy from the toy being vanished by the white dispelling light. He watched in as the energy from the toy seemingly swallowed the other magic and both disappeared, only to watch in horror as the purple energy came back brighter and bigger than ever. "GRRRRR! AHH!" Leonard roared, Danny watched in panic as the fleshjack expanded incredibly fast, inflating his dad's cock along with it, the plastic creaked and groaned as it grew, Leonard let go of it as he braced his hands on whatever surface he could grip, the toy's weight leaning towards his chest, easily reaching his chest now. The roars of pain and pleasure, combined with the toy's sounds of expansion stopped as it got to just above 20 inches, thicker than Danny's arm, Danny saw the parts of the massive cock not covered by the toy, throbbing violently and covered with big pulsing veins. He ran out of the room, hoping his dad was still alright, Leonard had seemingly passed out from the ecstasy he was feeling and Danny didn't know what to do now. Before he could lose his composure, Danny heard some noises coming from outside, he looked out the window and saw Marvin waddling in the yard, his clothes a mess, apparently, he teleported and fucked it up as usual. That gave Danny an idea, Marvin had to cooperate to break the curse together but Danny knew he would need some convincing, or forcing. Danny quickly prepared another spell while Marvin made his way inside the house, he could deal with that after his dad was back to normal. -------- Marvin cleaned up as best as he could and magically opened Danny's door, he was furious, the cursed object was supposed to make Danny into a mess while Marvin just gloated comfortably and now he had to get involved. He looked for the object's magic, his vision more sensitive to his own energy, and followed the trace upstairs, from what he could hear, it seemed Danny had finally fallen victim to the curse. Marvin snickered, he was almost jumping in joy at the mental image of Danny's pathetic state after using the object, but what he saw was definitely not that. A man, Marvin didn't know who, was hugging an enormous fleshjack, tenderly fucking it with what seemed a massively long and thick cock, big orange size balls rested below his massive endowment. Marvin's mind was reeling, this man, he looked... powerful, intimidating, not only was his manhood beyond human proportions but his body looked strong and masculine, his musk was intoxicating, his deep grunts of pleasure made Marvin's knees weak, he radiated masculinity. Marvin was on the verge of jerking off at the image before him, when he heard a voice coming from behind. "You motherfucker" Danny said as hateful as he could. Marvin turned around, his face flush and a bit of saliva dripping from his lips. "Are you seriously getting off at what you did to my dad?" "That-That's your father?" Marvin gulped, still hearing the grunts and trusts the stud made constantly. "What? How?...?" Danny huffed in impatience and anger; Marvin was wasting time with this charade. Danny glared at the man, Marvin looked like an accountant, plain and simple, he was on the shorter side, with a haircut way too groomed, thick glasses and a face that would look attractive if it wasn't constantly sneering. His slim figure didn't help him demand the attention and respect he wanted, especially not with Danny who was trying to find the right words for this sod. "Listen, you sent that... thing and before I knew it my dad was already like that" Not very eloquent but it made his point. "Now you're going to help me break that curse and get him back to normal, because for one, he doesn't even know what magic is, and two, I will make your life a living hell" "But-But..." Marvin breathed heavily, his horniness and confusion were getting the better of him. "That wasn't supposed to happen! Why on earth would I make you into that?!" Danny was now confused too. "So, what was it meant to do?" He asked yet again, clenching his fists. "Well..." Marvin groaned, this was getting worse by the minute. "The fleshjack was supposed to shrink your cock, not make it gigantic! Once you had like an inch left it would stop by itself." "God, you're a sick fuck" Danny was getting angrier. "So when will it stop now? Once his cock is bigger than what? The damn house?" "I..." Marvin turned around and licked his lips, he didn't want to think about it. "I don't know." "What do you mean, you don't know? You're the one that got it! Or at least activated it" "I don't know!" Marvin yelled. "Maybe a dispel or something" "Look, I already tried a dispel and it made it worse." Danny had to go with his original plan now, Marvin had to know, he just didn't want to help. "I want to try another method but I need your help. Now I'm not asking by the way, come with me" Danny went inside the room and Marvin followed suit. ----------- Leonard was now in all fours on the bed, still fucking the toy, which now stretched over his 22 inches of inhumanly thick meat, even his body looked different now, all that testosterone and the nonstop activity made his muscles look bigger and more defined, his body hair seemed thicker too glistening with sweat, his jaw was sharper and squarer, his stubble grown to become a thick beard, he was becoming more masculine all over. He felt powerful, with boundless energy that kept him fucking the toy as if his life depended on it, his enormous cock firing wave after wave of pleasure from every nerve ending in its overdeveloped size. "Fuck yeah!!" Leonard screamed, his deeper voice booming inside his room, he fucked harder and deeper, that's all he wanted to do from now on, use his massive cock the way it was supposed to be used. His mind started drifting, from the initial confusion, fear and uncontrollable horniness, to full acceptance, confidence and willful libido. He was a big masculine bull now, with a cock to match, his balls bounced, their weight heavy against the bed. "So fucking big..." A rush of dominance and an unbridled ego surged in him, this fleshjack was his and his alone, it served only to fit his gigantic cock and make it bigger, his pleasure and growth were the only things that mattered, and once he was satisfied, he was going to find someone to make them into his own personal cumdump... The thought alone caused a testosterone spike in him and he relished in another growth spurt... -------------- Marvin was too busy thinking about that fine stallion of a man to notice the dispel Danny was preparing, only coming to his senses when he felt the energy surge. "Since you had some part in this curse, the spell needs a component from you" Danny was quick and plucked some hair from Marvin's head. "Before you complain... shut the fuck up" Marvin just cursed under his breath, they headed to the room, and he had to hold his composure at the sight. Both men started gathering energy, which flowed into the fleshjack, Marvin got distracted staring again and noticed too late that the energy was only flowing from him now. "What are you doing?" He asked furiously at Danny, who looked smug. "This wasn't a dispel... What the...?" A sharp and deep sensation filled Marvin, he fell to his knees, it was something like he never felt before. And again, he groaned, pain, pleasure, fear, and rage bubbled up inside him, he felt like he was about to burst. "Figured a taste of your own medicine might suit you" Danny laughed, looking down at Marvin. Marvin had to clench his teeth to stop himself from screaming, he managed to look up and see the massive cock entering the toy, the sensation once again filling him up as his insides went in sensory overload, before it subsided as the enormous cock left the toy. "And... You called me... A sick fuck..." Marvin managed to say, before he came inside his pants, the sensation overloading his prostate and milking him from the inside. He was bound to the fleshjack, he fell for the trick and now his body was being split by a 2 feet long monster cock just like the toy, he was being used like an object. "Damn.. You seem to like it" Danny said, looking at how Marvin contorted and moaned, his body wasn't actually getting hurt, but all the sensations were real. "But you still have to tell me how to stop this, before you actually die from this" "I... AH!... I told you..." Marvin groaned and came again, panting non stop. "I don't... know" "Still not telling?! Seriously?" Danny yelled, this had to end already. "Make it...AH!" Marvin screamed, the sight of that mighty cock and the sensation of being filled by it was making his body and mind come undone. "It's... Fuck!" He didn't want it to stop but he felt something happening, he wanted to speak up but only moans came out. "You're a fucking idiot" Danny looked at Marvin's pathetic figure and held back from insulting him more. Danny was now desperate, he didn't want to inform any other magic member, it would ruin him, but now... A deep guttural roar filled the room, Danny turned and saw his father in what seemed a primal frenzy, magic energy brimming from Marvin and being funneled into the fleshjack. Which began pulsing dangerously. It happened fast, Leonard's cock expanded to colossal proportions, stretching the toy along with it, Marvin screamed as his body felt like it was on fire, the toy kept pulsing with growth waves, each one more violent than the last, Leonard's body grew alongside it, his muscles pulsing with power as his frame and skeleton expanded, his balls churning with mass and cum. The magic energy coming from the fleshjack was blinding Danny, as it finally couldn't hold any longer... The toy snapped, beyond 3 feet long and thicker than Danny's thigh, Leonard tried to hold it together as he fucked it with his gigantic cock, getting any more length and girth that he could, before the fleshjack burst and Leonard could finally cum. Once again, a deep primal roar filled the entire house, as wave after wave of cum was shot out of Leonard's massive cock, splashing against the walls and ceiling, covering everything and everyone in the room, the thick cum kept streaming out of Leonard's now 4 feet long cock, which was distended by the sheer amount of cum it kept pumping out. Danny shielded himself to avoid getting caught in the mess, even as more cum kept flooding the room and splashing against him, he managed to see some movement on the floor, Marvin was still conscious but he was moving erratically, for a moment Danny feared he might actually be drowning in cum but after the waves of cum slowed down he could hear desperate slurping and gulping sounds. The jets of cum were further apart now, still shooting powerfully, until it finally streamed a steady flow of cum down the massive shaft, and Leonard fell silent. "Geez..." Danny looked at the state of the room, Leonard was out as a rock, laying om the bed, Danny calculated his dad had grown to 8 feet tall and maybe weighed around 500 lbs with the added muscles, his overgrown body covered in thick cum and taking the entire bed. The humongous cock seemed to be softer but not fully down, just below 3 and a half feet, laying obscenely on top of Leonard's body, melon sized balls laying heavily between Leonard's huge thighs. And Marvin... The man was still licking and slurping all the cum he could, he looked deranged, maybe all the sensory overload had actually affected him beyond what Danny had planned. (At least he's still alive) Danny thought, after the fleshjack came undone he feared Marvin had gone with it. "Marvin, you good?" Danny asked. The man kept licking the cum, then cupping it with his hands and bringing to his mouth like a man that was stranded in a desert after finding water. "Can't... Stop..." Marvin managed to say, he was gone. Danny didn't want to deal with that right now. Danny left the room, he was tired and his mind couldn't begin to comprehend what had actually happened there, his dad seemed to be alright and probably felt better than ever, while Marvin seemed to be enjoying himself and cleaning up at the same time. The entire house reeked of cum and masculine musk, even some residual magic was palpable in the air, Danny went downstairs to get his thoughts in order, spotting a small letter under his door. *Hey Marvin, remember this toy is supposed to drain the target's magic along with their size, you won't be able to reap the rewards but if a non-magic person uses it then they'll get the benefits, in case you have a gentleman in mind ;). Anyhow - * The rest was blurred, Danny groaned in frustration, Marvin probably had the letter in his pocket and dropped it here after ruining it with somehow. "What an idiot" Danny muttered, Marvin was playing with things beyond his power and now this happened. He realized that when he linked Marvin and the toy, it began syphoning Marvin's magic and it was too much to handle. Danny sat on his couch, feeling a headache coming in, he was tired and angry and frustrated and... Before he knew it his eyes started to close and his body felt heavy, he fell asleep on the couch. ----------- *Gulp... Lick... Drink* That was all Marvin could think about, not even in his wildest fantasies he indulged himself like this. He always had to keep the image of a rule abiding and bland member, but now he didn't care about that one bit, all he wanted was to be full of cum from this muscle stud. The cum radiated energy somehow, and it filled Marvin with more lust and fervor, his body seemed to be responding to it but he wasn't even paying attention in his libidinous state. He remembered and craved that sensation of being stretched to the limit so much, to be used and abuse without a care, to be nothing but an object of pleasure, to fully submit both his body and mind totally... Speaking of which, Marvin heard the stallion groan in his sleep, his monstrous cock rising again, Marvin automatically went to him and started worshipping the man, if he even fit that definition still. Marvin licked the huge vascular arms, tasting the sweat and masculine musk, he plunged deep inside the hairy deep armpits and gorged himself on the stud's pits, his hands groped and manhandled the enormous mounds of muscle that were his pecs, his cock rubbed against the inhumanly defined and protruding abs. It wasn't until he clung desperately to that gigantic cock and unabashedly made out with the gaping urethra that the hypermasculine man woke up... "So I heard you did this..." Leonard said in a menacing deep tone, Marvin couldn't even process those words before he was gripped with inhuman strength. ------- Danny woke up stiff and with his head pounding lightly, he rubbed his eyes and unfortunately remembered the night he just had. He was musing on how to solve everything that happened until he realized the pounding wasn't in his head but coming from upstairs, moving slowly he went up, hoping his dad was alright, or at least not worse. Danny was greeted with a completely unexpected and obscene display once again, there was Marvin, except clearly changed, taller, buffer, more handsome and more importantly on his knees being viciously fucked by the muscle titan that Leonard had become. Danny saw that his dad hadn't stopped growing entirely, now bigger everywhere and his monstrous cock somehow pounding fully in and out of Marvin's muscled globular ass, which was entirely split around the sheer girth of the invading member, even with Marvin's own growth spurt the colossal cock was too large to fit naturally, an obscene and obvious bulge forming in Marvin's belly and almost reaching his torso everytime Leonard entered him fully. "Hey, son" Leonard greeted Danny cheerfully, his deep voice was raspy and reverberating in the room. "You like my new toy?" He didn't stop fucking Marvin, who just moaned mindlessly under the massive man. "I see you're alright at least. What... happened to him?" Danny asked, too confused to process that and now with another problem in his hands apparently. "Well I could hear both of you talking while I was *busy* yesterday-" Leonard planted his gigantic cock fully inside Marvin before continuing, Marvin just moaned and rubbed his distended abdomen while the other men kept talking "-and apparently this little guy was the one responsible for making me like this, so I figured I'd keep him" Leonard flexed his enormous arms, which inflated with muscle and power, he then bounced his huge heavy pecs, the muscle mounds responding accordingly. Clearly Leonard was more than happy with his transformation. "You're *keeping* him?" Danny tried to stay focused despite the erotic scene. "Yes, as his punishment and reward" Leonard said with confidence. "I saw him licking up all my cum, with hunger in his eyes, maybe all my thick masculine cum changed him for good, look at him grown up." Leonard manhandled Marvin's muscled body. "As soon as I laid eyes on him, he submitted instantly and begged me to let him worship me. So he's fine with it, right?" "Yes, master" Marvin responded instantly, even his voice had changed but he was also constantly moaning and groaning so his voice sounded raspy. "Lord..." Danny didn't know what else to say or do, so he figured he might as well leave them be. "Look I'll just let you figure this out. Marvin are you like, actually okay though?" Danny couldn't help but feel guilty. Marvin seemed too busy still groping his own body and moaning. "My son asked you a question, toy" Leonard said in a serious tone, even Danny felt a shiver down his spine at the dominant tone. "Yes, master" Marvin responded quickly. "Danny... I fucking love this, body modification magic is so hard and dangerous, yet your father just responded to it so well. He's... something else, I want to stay like this forever." "That's a good boy" Leonard resumed his fucking and Marvin started mindlessly moaning again. "Okay..." Danny just left, they were alright and he didn't see a reason to worry, for now. ----- "Fuck, you feel so good" Leonard growled, his gigantic cock had fully rearranged Marvin's insides, making it fit perfectly and accept Leonard's monstrous cock with little effort. "Do you like the cock you created, the body you gave me, the beast you unleashed?!" Leonard roared, pounding Marvin without a care, the man just took it, his body had turned into nothing but a tool for his master's pleasure. "I love it, master! Use me as you want!" Marvin yelled, this sent Leonard off the edge and his massive balls started releasing torrents of cum, his gigantic cock swelled and shot wave after wave of cum inside Marvin, both men completely lost in the moment as Marvin's abdomen started bloating from all the cum being deposited in him. Leonard rubbed the growing bulging belly with pride and lust. "You're nothing but my cumdump, you hear me?" Leonard said, completely serious and dominant. "Yes, master!" "You live to serve me and my massive cock" "Yes! Fuck yes!" "Good boy. Your alpha will keep you satisfied. But now... You better start finding a new way to make me bigger..."