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I am reposting another one of the stories LORUS wrote many years ago. In fact, this may be the first muscle-growth story he ever wrote if my memory can be trusted. It was deleted from the old forum long ago, but I had it saved on my hard drive and LORUS gave me permission to post it. It's fairly long, with ten chapters total. I will post a couple of chapters on this same thread every few days. Enjoy! Growth Beyond Reason by LORUS Part 1 Mark Stone hated two things in life more than any other. He hated working at his uncle’s convenience store because he felt that if his life didn’t change for the better, and soon, he’d be selling winos cheap liquor in paper bags until he was old and grey. He needed to start planning big, thinking big. He’d dropped out of college after his first year because he wasn’t motivated enough to exceed the standards expected of him. Motivation was a big problem for him. The sheer lack of it was to blame for the second thing he hated in life more than any other: his skinny, unattractive body. Okay, so maybe he was being hard on himself. He was quite cute. He had mousy brown hair that he wore just long enough so that he could re-work it with styling gum into all manner of configurations. He had attractive brown eyes, not too big, not too small - just right. His face was pretty to look at but recently he’d had flu and was just getting over it. His cheeks were a little sunken and he’d lost weight during his two-week illness. Normally he weighed in at 135, standing just five feet ten inches in height. He was pretty scrawny, but at least not pathetically so. This morning, as he got ready for work, he used the scales in the bathroom to check his weight once again. It wasn’t something he normally did; it was his mother’s scale. His mother, a devout Oprah-ite, was always trying out the latest fad diet, be it in book or in pill form. Mark never took after his mother’s side of the family, the side where weight could be a problem, but in fat terms. His father’s genetics likened him to the scrawny side of the gene-pool. This morning the readout on the scale said 133 lbs. Mark chewed his lip from a mixture of despair and nervousness. “I wish I were big,” he lamented as he finished dressing so that his mother could start cleaning the bathroom. Breakfast consisted of a pop-tart and a swig of milk from the carton. Then he was on his way, biking the three blocks downtown to Al’s Convenience Store. Wow, Mark thought, my uncle must have been up all night trying to crap on the john thinking of that one. It was a warm summer’s morning. Mark loved it when it was sunny, with so many audacious jock types going around shirtless, with their cobblestone stomachs and beautifully swollen chest muscles. So much eye candy - so much to look at but never to touch. Mark had never had a boyfriend. He put it down to being shy and never feeling confident enough about his body. He’d come close to asking a boy out once at high school. His name was Trey, and he was the school’s star quarterback and Mister Popularity, despite that he was completely open about his gay sexuality, bold and confident about everything in his life. Mark was smitten with him. And although he hadn’t seen Trey Waters in almost four years (he heard that he landed a football scholarship to a prestigious college up North), he often fantasized about him and wondered how he might look today. Obviously, football had not been his game in the end; otherwise, he might have become a big noise in sports circles. Trey Waters’ beautiful face and body had yet to adorn the cover of Men’s Fitness. But since Mark worked in a convenience store that stocked fitness and bodybuilding magazines, he was never short of good jizz-material when his uncle wasn’t keeping an eye on him. Something was different this morning. He chained his bike in its usual place and stood outside the store, about to open. Something was going on across the street. Lots of people were standing around and shaking their heads in disbelief. A building had apparently appeared overnight. It was so strange. The day before, the lot directly across from the convenience store had been empty, nothing more than idle asphalt surrounded by wooden fencing. It had once been a movie theatre but had been demolished some time ago. His curiosity piqued, Mark walked over to a man who stood, like many others, talking speculatively about the Shapeshifters Gym that now filled every inch of that once vacant lot. “How did that get here?” Mark’s question was obvious. The man responded without looking at him. “Norm Winterborn said it came in sections, on four massive trucks. And they just latched it together in a trice. Just like that,” the man snapped his fingers for emphasis. Wow, a gym right across from the store, Mark thought excitedly. There was only one gym in town already, but it was nothing like this. For one, it was across town and two, it catered mostly for overweight people trying to get into shape. His mother was a member. This Shapeshifters, as the sign displayed, was a hardcore bodybuilding Mecca. Mark knew that for there were bodybuilders already on-site, obviously from the construction team that ‘lashed’ the gym together in just a few hours, and during the night at that. One other man commented on the size of the men, suggesting that they might have put the pieces together with their bare hands. Mark had yet to get a decent look at the four Adonises, for he was not close enough, and besides he had to get the store open, or Al would tan his hide. He had the shop set up and ready for business within minutes. He had to go through the papers and sort them out along with the magazines. The new Men’s Fitness was in this morning. He took time to flick through it, picking out the pictures he would masturbate to later, in the staffroom in the back, where he ate his lunch usually. As usual, no “Trey Waters: football stud” adorned the front page. Trey’s life had obviously gone in a different direction after he left high school. Maybe he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, a career in sports and fitness now just a memory to him. Oh well, I will always have my fantasies, Mark thought to himself as he took a copy of Muscle and Fitness to his chair behind the counter so he could flick through it while on the job. It wasn’t a busy morning. Al was away on a trip to try out a new brand of beer that wasn’t yet on the market, any excuse for the old fart to get free booze. Mark was able to serve the regular customers easily enough and without getting too stressed. Once the morning coffee and newspaper rush was over, he could relax a little. His shift would end at five pm, and then Rick, the fat night-guy would take over until closing time at eleven sharp. Mark hated Rick. He was obese and obnoxious and had a body odor problem. Enough said. At approximately ten minutes to eleven that morning, Mark’s life was about to change, and for the better. It began when a large shadow suddenly fell over him. He was lost in an article in Muscle and Fitness about nutrition and had his head down, his long fringe creating a temporary curtain to draw his attention away from this most unforgettable of customers. “Where are your bodybuilding magazines?” the shadow-casting customer inquired somewhat gruffly. Mark froze before looking up, doing a quick recap in his head about the unusual circumstances of the past morning. Okay, so a gym built in sections by just four huge men had happened that morning. And now someone was in asking for bodybuilding magazines. There was a gay bar on the same block. It was probably another homosexual man in to get his jizz-fix. A real hardcore bodybuilder had never been into the store before. That just changed. No wonder the shadow that he cast was large. Mark looked up just as the man was walking towards the magazine rack that he only just spotted. Instantly Mark’s jeans tented out in the crotch. This man wasn’t just a bodybuilder; he was bodyBUILT!!!! “Uhh, they’re on the middle shelf, tuh-to the luh-left,” Mark said, trying not to stammer and give away his nervousness. He was in the presence of a muscle god, an absolute behemoth. He could only see him from behind as the giant muscleman began to scan through the magazines. As he did, he grabbed a couple of chocolate frosted donuts from their display cabinet to his right and wolfed them down whole. “I’ll pay for those when I get my magazine,” he explained, still with a manly huskiness to his voice. It reminded Mark of the way Christian Bale spoke as Batman in The Dark Knight, kind of overstressed at times, but irresistibly masculine. Wow, Mark thought, he’s so big that he can eat anything. He’s probably going into his off-season. Mark couldn’t believe how huge this man was. He took him in from head to toe, safe in the knowledge that this uber-Adonis hadn’t got eyes in the back of his head. His hair was blonde and tight, crew-cut like in the military or something. His bullish neck had to be almost a foot in width, and it connected with the rhomboid major muscles that swept down and into a delta-wedge back that was simply majestic. His shoulders were huge and rounded, making Mark guess that he had to have been six feet wide at the shoulders. Despite that his lats were huge to the extent they forced his arms out on either side (that classic bodybuilder stance times ten), his back tapered down to a contrastingly diminutive waist which was impossible to guess the size of. Thirty-one maybe? But what did that make his chest? At a guess it must be at least three times that number. His balloon-ball butt was huge, the glutes massively developed, and the denim cut-offs he wore only accentuated the shape even more. The shorts had button-flap pockets and the curvature of the ass was so great that the pocket flaps were lying almost horizontally. Mark reckoned that were the guy to squeeze hard enough, he’d pop the buttons right off like cannon-fire. His thighs were like pillars, bloated and beautifully shaped, tapering down to where his legs bent at their middles, only to balloon outward into enormous geometrically precise diamond calves. Each calf was the size of a football. The guy seemed to be enjoying whatever magazine had caught his interest. Without looking up from his reading, he cleared another couple of donuts out of the cabinet and killed them quickly. Mark was mesmerized. He loved the way the huge fellah wore his second-skin red shirt as a cut-off, strategically cut about mid-way down, making it seem as if he was outgrowing his clothes and obviously to maximize on his incredible size and shape. “I’ll pay for those too,” the man said, referring to the third and fourth donut. Mark couldn’t help himself. He was getting this on his camera phone to preserve for all eternity. This would be better than any jizz-mag, watching this massive guy on his PC for years to come. Pity it would only be from the back, for he would have to kill the phone before the guy caught him filming him. Then Mark remembered the surveillance cameras in the store. There were four of them, set to pick up everything. Oh God, Mark thought worriedly, did I forget to change the tape this morning? If it turned out that the cameras were taking in the bodybuilder from four different angles, Mark would have jizz material for years to come. All of this took about three minutes. Finally, the guy picked an issue of FLEX and a bunch of bananas and muscle-strutted to the counter to pay for them. Mark took one look at him now that he could see his face. He was beautiful. Blue eyes, chiseled jawline punctuated perfectly by that “I know I’m fucking hot!” expression of smugness that huge bodybuilders often displayed as their preferred facial expression. This guy was huge enough to be super smug. He flared his lats a little and bounced his pecs twice as he laid his purchases on the counter to be rung up. Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t shy and unimposing little Mark Stone. Long time no see, Stony,” the bodybuilder said, raising his arms and pumping himself up to his most huge. His pecs lifted several inches above his super-developed stomach, causing the fabric of his cut-off shirt to strain so that the buttons struggled to stay put. Trey Waters had come back to his hometown. And he was the biggest hulking bodybuilder on the face of the Earth. Part 2 Mark was completely stunned at the sight of his greatest fantasy made flesh before him. He had forgotten that he was holding up his camera phone, the protective cover clearly pushed away from the lens that drank in the vision of Trey Waters: the massively muscled stud almost as much as Mark did with his eyes. Trey acknowledged that and smirked with a mixture of delight and conceit. He raised his hands up to nipple height and made two fists. Immediately thick networks of dark, gorged veins rose from his ham-shank forearms and Mark thought he could actually hear the sound of Trey’s wafer-thin skin groaning against the pressure caused by the power-ravenous tissues beneath. “I’m suh-sorry, Trey...it just happened to be on...and I just...” Mark’s excuse was lame. Why would he have his camera phone set to record just because an exceptional item of interest had entered the most mundane place on Earth? Still smirking, by now Trey was giving off pheromones like wildfire: an invisible miasma of sweat mixed with testosterone and musk. It was intoxicating. Mark began to sway on his feet and had to sit back on the seat next to the till. “Can’t let you keep this, Stony,” said Trey, without a hint of regret for what he was about to do. A huge hand grabbed the camera phone out of a transfixed Mark’s feeble grasp, and what happened next caused his erection to become even more pronounced inside his jeans. Trey placed the phone between pec cleavage deeper than any woman’s or even any super-heavyweight bodybuilder’s. It stayed put quite easily, for the mounds of his heart-muscles were dense and thick, swollen with blood and almost crackling with glycogen. His smirk broadened considerably as he flexed into a most-muscular pose. His trapezius muscles bulged tall, almost seeming to push his collar bones down as they demanded space to grow. Between them, on either side of his throat, the cord-like omohyoid/sternohyoid structures thickened and substantiated beyond what nature had ever intended of them. His deltoids dwelled into a triple-head configuration as his triceps blasted outward almost as far as his biceps bulged inwards, helping to unite his pecs closer as the muscles of his upper body fought against each other for the right to exist. Every muscle was sharply, shockingly defined beyond what a sane mind could comprehend. Between Trey’s enormous, thickly striated pectorals, Mark’s phone was crushed to tiny bits. Not only that, something else was happening - something more extraordinary than the sheer presence demonstrated by Trey’s size. He was growing; this phenomenal spurt of sumptuous expansion was punctuated perfectly not only by the crushed phone, but by a blatantly audible tearing noise, like lightning striking the sail of a ship, rending it apart with an ear-splitting crack. The red cut-off shirt was destroyed at the back as Trey’s lats gorged on blood and pushed outward, beyond the ability for the shirt’s fibers to resist. “Oh yeah, better than yesterday’s reaction...damn hot!? Trey flexed even more, and the short sleeves of his shirt lost their battle against his advancing biceps. As his biceps pushed further out in the opposite direction to his tris, the material of his already clinging shirt could take the strain no longer. It came apart, fibers separating to such a fine degree they floated on the air for a moment like mist, helping to secure this moment in time as something that felt close to timeless. Mark and Trey were separated only by the shop counter. He could have reached out to touch Trey’s flesh had his lust become so strong. But self-preservation kicked in, for there was no telling how Trey would react should Mark try something like that. “And now the money shot,” Trey barked, deciding to send the shirt to Shirt Heaven in a major show of muscle flexing. Before the shirt was destroyed completely at the front, Trey made a full lat-spread, his biggest ever, although Mark was not to know that. Delta wings flared out beneath each arm, so much so there was little room for his biceps to expand further, but expand they did, emphasized by the massive ropy veins that almost split each bicep in two. His pecs seethed with growth and power and buttons pinged in all directions as the heart muscles shredded the cloth and were exposed to the world. The greatest show-spectacle of all time had been revealed from behind a red curtain to a completely captivated audience. “I’m getting huuuuge!” Trey barked in triumph and sheer defiance of nature. In fact, it might be argued that the behemoth made man was laughing in the very face of Nature’s design. How could this be happening? Mark was overwhelmed by the spectacle and couldn’t form a coherent thought in his head. Man-lust had taken him over. But man-lust in the face a god in male form. How could Trey have gotten like this in just four years? It didn’t make sense. There wasn’t a drug known to science that could augment the male physique to such an exaggerated degree, was there? With the last of the shirt finally lying in a tattered mess at his feet, Trey Waters pressed his groin firmly against the side of the counter facing outward and flexed just two feet from Mark’s head, a head that was now dizzy from so much blood coursing through it. “How big do you think I am, Stony?” The quiz was meant to intimidate and stimulate all at once. Trey seemed to get off on showing his muscles to an inferiorly built male whilst simultaneously getting the spectator so boned up with lust. But what good was being served here? Who would get off the furthest and to what end? Trey made a side chest pose, his pecs heaving upwards and outwards, each globe forming a half dozen inch-deep striations (stacked about an inch to two inches apart) across their masses. As he flexed and shaped his shelf to utter magnificence, Mark could almost swear that the muscle between the striations was bulging outwards as Trey’s exhibition excited his heart more and more, forcing it - demanding - that it pump harder and faster to feed his muscles with the blood they needed to grow further still. “Answer my fucking question, midget!” The antagonism in Trey’s voice was apparent and threatening. He’d never been like this back in high school. Sure, he was a jock who loved to play football and lift weights. But back then he was a robust 200 pounds, standing six feet one inches in height. Ok, so maybe some kind of steroid was making his muscles grow, but how could that explain his increase in height? At a guess Mark reckoned Trey to be around four inches taller since his senior year. Then again, he needed to be tall to be able to carry so much amazing muscle. “Uh, thuh-three huh-hundred?” Mark couldn’t contain his stammer. He felt light-headed, far too warm, and the room started to spin. It was intoxicating. Trey’s musk inflamed his senses, and he could feel his balls about to give up their creme. “You fucking ass,” Trey interjected sharply, not giving Mark a chance to finish. He pushed against the counter, causing candy bars to go soaring. The counter moved in by about a foot and a half, slamming Mark on his swivel chair into a shelf of liquor bottles behind him. A few fell and smashed as Mark’s heart missed more than one beat. Trey made another most muscular and inches were immediately added to his shoulders, arms, and chest. The watch on his left wrist fell away as the strap was split apart. Then more tearing of cloth was heard with whip-cracking force as Trey’s denim cut-offs failed to contain the additional augmentation occurring below his waist. “I’m way heavier than three hundred. Try five hundred and six pounds, you infant.” And then with a smirk and an afterthought he added, “...but not for much longer!” Something smashed through the front facing of the counter, blasting through the wood. Denim continued to be destroyed and metal buttons from the flies shot in all directions. One brought down a stack of pet food cans near the main door. Another hit the ultra-violet fly-zapper over the cold meats counter. Where the others went was a mystery. “Unnngh, that feels so fucking good, to let the wee man go free,” Trey exclaimed, arching his upper body away from the counter and leaning his head back as he momentarily gazed upward. His neck flexed thicker than ever. How many inches it was in diameter was a mystery, but Mark guessed it was at least thirty. Wow, he thought as his stupor of lust continued to hold him hostage, my own waist is only twenty-eight. Trey’s neck is thicker than my goddamn waist. This is beyond reason. With his head thrown back and upper body leaning away from the counter, Trey’s mountainous pecs heaved upwards some more, so engorged were they that for a moment he appeared headless. The pecs blocked his neck and head from view. Mark was immediately drawn to the giant’s nipples, each one as big as the tip of his thumb and set in brown areolas the size of silver dollars. The nipples, like everything else on the behemoth, seemed like they were growing still further. Trey's torso was completely hairless, and his body glistened with the sweat brought on by his incredible increase in physical mass. Within two minutes he had swelled to at least twice the size he had been when he entered. He was enormous. But something inside Mark, some primal, innate instinct geared up on lust and his necessity to cum, something that maybe was tripped in him by Trey’s increasing size, told him that the muscle giant's growth was far from finished. But then the growth seemed to slow down and eventually stop. It was only then that Mark suddenly snapped out of his reverie and took stock of his situation. The slide-door to the storage compartment beneath the counter was split apart and the contents within pushed out onto the floor (just a couple of pricing guns, spare sticker cartridges and some rolls for the Visa machine). What had done the pushing out became evident to Mark as he slipped into a sitting position on his side of the counter and struggled to make sense of what he could see sticking through from the customer side. It was Trey’s monster cock, an organ of immense proportions, and strong, too, judging by the force of its expansion and how it made mincemeat of the counter wall. Time seemed inconsistent with reality now. Dust motes on the air seemed to hang with an almost eerie calm. The sounds of life beyond the walls of the store seemed muffled and more distant than usual. There were no sounds or movement coming from Trey. He was still connected with the counter, his back arched backwards and his arms akimbo, the muscles incredibly flexed and gluttonous with blood that seemed no longer to pulse beneath the veined super-highway across most of Trey’s massive frame. “Trey...you...okay?” Terror engulfed Mark, replacing the lust previously besieging him. For the sake of his own safety, he made it to his feet after crawling from behind the counter but in a way that put him a safe distance from Trey and closer to the main door, his only route of escape. It was there that he noticed the customer, frozen in time as she attempted to enter the store. What in hell was going on? Mark felt panicky, gorge rising in his gut. The woman was Mrs. Ching, a regular of the establishment, who always came in on weekday mornings around the same time to buy some bread rolls. If she were to catch sight of a naked muscle hulk apparently making love to the counter, like the one here now, there was no telling what it would do to her sixty-year-old heart. But the woman seemed frozen in time, just like Trey. “Time stands still when Trey flexed to maximum,” Mark said aloud as he gently eased Mrs. Ching out the front door so that he could securely lock it and pull down the blind to create some privacy. “Wait a sec, what am I doing?” This was a personal state of emergency. There was no telling how strong Trey was, or what he could do to Mark should his muscle-lust become unhinged. Now was Mark’s chance to get away. But something caused him to stay put. His cock continued to twitch inside his pants. Mark removed his apron to give himself some freedom, stimulating his genitals by massaging them vigorously. He moaned in delight as bliss replaced his fear. If Trey was as frozen as the rest of the world due to an inexplicable phenomenon, then Mark would have his play. And there was nothing Trey would be able to do about it. Mark found himself moving closer to the frozen god, now within touching distance. The remains of the denim cut-offs lay in disarray around Trey’s size sixteen feet. A big man needed big feet, after all. He was completely naked now, having worn his cut-offs commando style. Nice, Mark thought. Trey’s thighs were enormous, way bigger than they had been just minutes before. “If only I had a tape measure,” he said in annoyance. He knew his uncle kept one somewhere, but he wasn’t about to go fetch it now. He just wanted to touch every inch of Trey’s mega-muscular body, to trace the contours of every striation, every point of one muscle separating from another. He wanted to know those nipples with his tongue, and especially experience what Trey’s monster cock was like fully erect, if he were away from the smashed counter. “Does this mean I’m in control now, free to do with Trey as I please? Did he stop time or did I, somehow, in some fluke act of desperation?” Mark couldn’t answer these questions. He didn’t know how long this effect would last, but should it be temporary, he was determined to make the most of it. He moved around to the frozen Trey’s rear, gasping at the sight of the biggest, bubbliest butt he had ever seen. The glute muscles were beyond exaggeration, if such a term were accurate. How in contrast the butt appeared, next to the graceful taper of a waist upon which such a massive upper body was perched, like a great wedge of rock standing freely on its tiniest point, yet strong and unyielding. Mark touched the striated muscle there and could not believe how hard and dense it felt. His hands roamed freely over the topography of the massive delta that was Trey’s back. His fingers played with every contour like charcoal to the parchment of a brass rubbing. The muscle was hard as granite or steel, his flesh so soft against it. It was a delicious union formed by a contrast that worked with perfection in mind. Mark hastened to get naked behind the frozen Trey so that he could explore him internally as well. His cock was one of his better features. Not porn-star huge by any means, but a good seven and three-quarter inches when fully erect. Mark jerked himself off for a few seconds and lathered up his cock with spit before he guided it less than expertly into the deep cleft of Trey’s rectum. And there he dwelled for a time, pumping smoothly and rhythmically, moaning with nothing short of ecstasy, but wishing Trey could reciprocate in some way. Gradually, as Mark’s pleasure rose to fever-pitch, to a point where he could contain himself no longer, he shot his cream into Trey, holding on to his waist for balance. He looked upwards, seeing the back of Trey’s head as frozen as the rest of him, and wished he could kiss his beautiful lips. Instead, he tongued and kissed the wide expanse of his back, with no shortage of flesh to further enflame his senses. The orgasm was all too brief, and Mark felt the mood passing without the time upon which it had formed. How he could be immune to this phenomenon defied explanation, but he decided suddenly that should time start over once again, it would do him no good to greet it in the buff. He dressed hastily, splashed some cold bottled water on his face and set about getting himself organized. Something had to be done about Trey, locked out of time. But what had become of the rest of the world? “Time manipulation? Trey has to be part of it. He must be from the gym across the street. If these guys can make time bend to their will, that would explain how the gym managed to appear seemingly overnight. Hmmm.” Mark always had a liking for science-fiction. Hopefully, as he investigated this, such a penchant for the weird and the wonderful would serve him well (his mind shifted to being inside Trey once more, shooting his load upward and into the deepest recesses of the muscle-god). It was time to leave the store and venture outside. Whatever was going on, maybe the answers would be found at Shapeshifters across the street. To be continued . . .

I don't do a lot of writing, but this one has been a little vivid for me, and I thought I'd share it. There is an incomplete part 2 I'll get out sometime in the future. THE SHORT ONE “Yeah, Mike! Drive that UUUUP!!!!” Yelled Rick, as Mike, the squat, broad, bearded, powerlifter, drove the four-hundred-pound loaded bar upwards again. “Good man!” Rick continued, smacking the shorter fire hydrant-like man on the back. “Good one! Six reps, that’s a new record for you!” Breathing heavily, Mike huffed out between breaths, “Yeah..(huff)...new one…(huff)...took me…(huff)...forever to get…(huff)...there.” Mike, a young guy of 30, standing 5’6”, weighed in at almost 270 pounds of bulky powerlifter beef. The last two years of heavy lifting and training - and all the gear he could handle - had made him a sight at the gym. Looking at Mike you knew he was a powerlifter. He had become a brick all the way from his traps to his waist, and his legs were thick enough that he had developed a waddle. He had no neck left to speak of, just traps that made a mountain range from his skull down, then out to his ultra-wide shoulders. Mikes’ thick back was complimented by a bulging turtle-shell stomach and spinal erectors you could lose your hand in. He had an obvious squatters-butt which went down to thick thighs and bulging calves. Stairs were sometimes a problem for Mike - his breathing wasn’t the best, but he didn’t care. Just what he could squat, bench, deadlift. That was his life and he had become totally dedicated to it over the last two years. Rick, his coach, was part of his drive. Encouraging him, and making sure every day at the gym was a good one, and every meal, and every shot of gear, drove him forward to his goal. “Rick, what do you think, am I there yet?” Mike eventually huffed out. “Man, this is great. You’re definitely at the top of your weight class, and you’ll bring this one in for sure!” “Yeah, but what then?” “What then? After the state competition, the regional, just like we talked about.” “No man, I mean how do I go up in weight from here? The next class up!” Rick frowned and furrowed his brow, “Buddy, we talked about this…. You’re amazing, but that next class up, it’s not something you’ll do well in. You’re huge, and at this height you’re as big as you can get,” “Gotta get bigger, Rick. You know that!” Rick sighed. “Man, I didn’t know the monster I created.” He laughed, “Okay, let’s just call it a day and see what we can do this next session tomorrow, OK?” “Ok man. But, if I were bigger - you know, taller, and all - you could move me up a class, right?” Rick waved his hands and looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah, but man, it ain’t gonna happen! You have to work with what you’ve got! You’re big, huge! You’re doing fine in your class!” “Okay Rick, I got it. No worries, OK? I’ll get taller, got it handled!” “Right man, I know….” Rick, thinking he must have misheard Mike, just brushed off the comment. “I’m headed out for dinner. Catch you Wednesday for training!” Rick nodded back & waved Mike off. LATER THAT NIGHT. Greg put five ounces of chicken into the twelfth meal container just as the doorbell rang. He rinsed off his hands and yelled “One second, Mike! I’ll be right there!” Leaving behind for a moment the kitchen-manufacturing lines of rice, chicken, and vegetables, the big bear went to the door and let in his short, squat powerlifter buddy, Mike. “Thanks man, I’m starving!” Growled the dumpster-like short brick house powerlifter. “You always do the best for me, man!” They shared a typically off-balance greeting hug: Mike, phenomenally strong and powerlifter-thick, was 5’6”. Greg on the other hand was a towering 6’10”. Greg had broad shoulders from time in the gym, but he wasn’t an iron-addict like Mike. Greg smiled. “Hey, I love supporting my best friend. I’ve almost got 2 days worth of meals put together for you, just finishing up. Hang on, I’ve got dinner for us both. You start & I’ll join you in a sec, I want those covered & in the fridge before I call it done.” He gestured to plates with huge portions of chicken, pasta, and vegetables. “Take those over & I’ll be there in a moment.” “You know just what I need!” Mike took the food to the dining table, helped himself to utensils, and set out the meals for both of them. After putting lids on meal containers and putting them in neat stacks in the fridge, Greg joined Mike and sat at the table. Eating for a few minutes quietly, Greg reflected on what a funny pair they were. Good friends, and occasionally with benefits, they had a lot of interests in common. Mike turned thoughtful for a second, fidgeting with a ring on his right ring finger. “Greg, I gotta ask you something serious.” “Ok, what’s up?” Mike leaned in and put his right hand on Greg’s right hand. “You know how you’re so supportive of my powerlifting?” “Yeah bud, of course! I know how important it is to you. I love seeing you conquer those lifts!” Mike smiled. “Yeah, you’re always ready to help me in any way, right?” “Yes, that’s why I’ve got the meals together for you, and help keep you on schedule.” “I know, and you’d do anything to help me, right?” “Yes. Isn’t that what I just said?” “Yeah, it is. I just really need to know.” Mike leaned in towards the bigger man. “You’re totally on my side, happy to help me any way you can, right?” Greg looked confused. “Bud, I don’t know why this is so big a deal to you. Yes, I am. I’ve told you a bunch and I still mean it. Now, what’s up?” Mike let go of Greg’s hand with a big smile and sat up solid in his chair, hands on his thighs. The ring on his hand showing a soft glow before fading away. “You know how Rick, my trainer, has been down on me, right?” Greg scowled a little. “No, I know how you have been down on him because he can’t move you up a weight class. He’s telling you, like he has for a while, that you’re going to have a hard time packing on weight to compete with those guys. They run sixty to eighty pounds more, and have the taller frame to carry it.” “Yeah, but if I could be that big I’d be able to compete there!” Greg said, “I know...but...look, where is this going?” Greg and Mike had joked once or twice that they were born at the wrong heights. If Mike were Greg’s size - sixteen inches taller - he’d be spending all his time adding two hundred pounds to his frame, and many more hundreds to his lifts, working on being either the world champion of powerlifting or strongman competitions. But life doesn’t always deal those cards the way you wanted. Mike looked at him squarely and said “Since you’re up for helping me with anything, I need you give me half your size and strength.” Greg laughed, “Man, I’d love to, I just don’t know how!”. “Well, I solved that problem”, said Mike. He raised his right hand and wiggled the ring finger. “I found this charm at a Chinese magic shop. I didn’t believe it, but I tested it and it worked. If you agree to help me three times while I hold your hand...you can help me in any way, including by giving me your size. Stand up! I’ll show you. It takes some time.” Mike stood up. Greg looked skeptical, but smiled. “I don’t know what you’re smoking, but I’ll run with this little scene if you’re up for some playtime tonight. It's not like we haven’t started some fun with that as a scene before.” Greg stood up and stepped closer to Mike, looking down at the thick fireplug. Only...he wasn’t looking down as much as he expected. “Mike, are you on your toes?” “No big guy...I’m getting bigger. And, you are getting smaller.” “No way! It can’t be!” Greg moved right up to Mike, and put his hands on Mike’s shoulders, looking down into Mikes eyes and paying attention to his hands & shoulders. After just a moment he could tell his perspective was shifting down, and his hands were moving up. He could feel Mike’s shoulders slowly growing bigger under his hands. “Fuck! No way!” Greg shouted! They had actually role-played something like this a few times. Greg had fantasies about being a smaller guy, not always being the biggest guy in a room, the focus of attention for men, and women. Being in the spotlight, every time and always, just because of his towering height. Mike, meanwhile couldn’t want anything more than to have exactly that. He craved it Both the attention...and the frame to put on all the size he wanted. To be the biggest guy in any room. He dreamed of never having to look up, at anyone, ever. Mike grinned as he and Greg locked gazes, knowing that at least for one person, he wouldn't be looking up at him again...very soon. “For real man, you’re gonna be half your size, maybe less, in a few minutes. And I’m going to be a goddam giant, bigger than you ever were! Biggest, strongest man in the world, coming right up!” Greg was too entranced by what was happening to think about what Mike was saying. The danger in the words was blocked by having his fantasy of being smaller really happening. Mike brushed Greg’s hands off his shoulders, then reached down and pulled his shirt off over his head. This revealed his thick pecs, broad on his chest, covered with fur. He looked up (but not as far as before) into Greg’s eyes, and brought both 20” arms up into a double bicep pose, spreading his thick legs apart to keep him steady. His bulging shoulders and traps crowded his head, his big turtle shell belly pushed out as he arched his back keeping his arms up. “Lick that big, growing arm, shrinking bear!” he ordered Greg. Having played this before, Greg closed his eyes, leaned down, and started licking Mikes’ right biceps, stroking Mike’s chest with one hand, while running the other back and forth from Mike’s right shoulder to fingertips, squeezing the strong, solid powerlifter muscles from time to time. He aggressively made love to the muscles in front of him, loving their hardness, the soft cover of fat and fur over them. Mike groaned in pleasure, sometimes taking his left hand, reaching up, and rubbing Greg’s scalp, squeezing Greg’s traps or shoulders, as Greg kept worshipping Mike’s muscles with his eyes closed.. But something was different this time. After a couple more minutes Greg realized he wasn’t leaning down so much anymore to suck & lick on that meaty bicep bulge in front of him. Just a few inches down where before he was bending way down - from six-ten! - now, they were closer in height, and moving closer still. Mike loved it. Mike hadn’t gained as much height as Greg had lost. Apparently the charm thought of “size and strength” as related. Much of Greg’s strength came from being so tall a guy - he was strong, but a lot came from his raw size. Meanwhile, Mike was a weight-trained tank. He was much stronger than his height would suggest. Every inch he grew taller was hugely more strong than the inch that Greg lost. Mike kept his eyes open the whole time. He saw the perspective of the room changing around him. Saw Greg leaning down less and less. The man who had started at 5’6” was now an even six foot tall, and Greg was just a little taller, about 6’2”. “Keep those eyes closed a little more, Shrinking Bear. I am going to have a surprise for you in just...another...minute! Keep making love to that big arm. Does it feel bigger to you?” Mike’s 19” arms had grown to at least 21” as he took in size and strength from Greg. “Yes, Big Bear! It feels so big!” “Yeah, little Shrinker! It is. It is sooo much bigger. You can’t get your hands around it now, can you?’ “No, Big Bear, I can’t! I used to, and I can’t now!” It was true. At six-ten, Greg’s huge hands could make a circle covering 20”...but now, being smaller, and that arm bulging bigger, he tried, and he couldn’t. Greg loved the proof that he was getting smaller. After another minute of being stroked and adored, Mike spoke again. “Okay, Shrinking Bear...you can open your eyes.” He opened his eyes to find he was looking just slightly down into Mikes eyes. Greg was just an inch taller than Mike. Mike smiled broadly. “See, ‘big guy’...? I’m getting bigger than you! You’re going to have to really mean it now when you call me Big Mike! Keep looking at me right now. Look straight into my eyes….” Greg’s cock was already solid. Now it has turned to iron. He was looking just a little down into Mike’s eyes. Mike had expanded proportionally in every way, with his muscles expanding more than his height, growing in strength. About six inches taller, he was about a hundred or more pounds heavier and his muscles were all bulging out more than before. His arms were definitely 23” by now. Mike could feel how much heavier he was getting in his limbs, he could see his perspective change as Greg shrank and he grew to his rightful size, thicker and bigger than before. “I love seeing you bigger, bud! You have always been Big Mike to me - but now it;s gonna be a different thing!” Greg noticed the room around them. “Are we both six feet tall now?!?! Fuck! Things seem bigger to me from here!” He looked around a little “I’m used to seeing the top of the fridge all the time...and now I can’t see it at all!” “I’ll let you know what it looks like in a few minutes. See Greg? Are you looking right at me?” Greg returned to looking right at Mike’s eyes. “Yes Big Bear! Right at you!” “Good. Now keep looking at me….there! Do you see it now?” Greg took a moment, looking in Mike’s eyes. It took him an extra second or two. “Holy crap! I’m looking up at you! I can’t fucking believe it! I’m looking up at you!” “That’s right, Shrinking Bear! You’re going to keep shrinking until I have half of what you were carrying around on you! I wonder how small you’ll be by then?” Mike smirked, loving his new stature over his formerly towering friend. “Okay Shrinker, look at that arm you’re supposed to be licking.” Mike hoisted his right arm up to shoulder position again, bulging more out than before, his thick mass of muscle, fat and fur right in Greg’s face. Or, as Greg now noticed...just above his face. “No...way….” Greg started. Noticing that Mike’s arm was slowly rising above his own eye level. “Better lick it soon, Shrinking Greg. Big Mike will only want to lean down for a little while to help you….” Mike grew warm inside from dominating Greg and having it be real. In the past, he had said those words but had to rely on Greg to play along. “Not today,” he thought to himself. “Not again, ever. Now is the time for Big Mike! Maybe even Big Big Mike!” “Lick that arm, Shrinking Bear! While you can!” Greg got up on his toes and resumed kissing and caressing Mike’s massive arm, licking the biceps and triceps. He stood more and more on his tiptoes as he worshipped the burgeoning, growing arm. His own hands and mouth shrinking away with time, everything about Mike seemed bigger and bigger to him. Lost in the thrill of it, he distantly wondered if this is how Mike had felt about him, when Mike looked up and almost a foot and a half separated them. Mike kept flexing his muscles for Greg. After another minute even all the way up on his toes, stretching to his limit, his mouth couldn’t make contact with Mike’s raised biceps any more. Greg stopped, breathing hard, catching his breath, and leaned against Mike’s massive, hard gut for a moment, the flesh still growing up slowly. Mike’s body is still very slowly expanding, getting bigger, stronger, all over. Growing more full, round, padded muscle on top of his already large body. Mike leaned forward, his huge chest looming over Greg’s head, and put his big hands on Greg’s back, pushing him inwards against his massive, sweaty gut. “Yeah Little Bear, clean up this big, sweaty lifter...lick me clean...I can just feel those little hands of yours rubbing around my big, solid, belly. Can’t even reach around to my waist, can you?!? Yeah, you little fuck...let’s see how small you are now….” Greg moved back a little, momentarily shocked out of his focus on his sexual energy and worship of Mike’s growing body. Mike looked down at him and took stock of the room. Mike could see the top of the fridge now, looking down on it easily. And he was at least twice as wide. He had grown into a massive bull of a man, vast traps and shoulder width. Thick pecs that blocked his sight down, and a solid turtle-shell gut that blocked even more. His arms and legs were thick with muscle and padding, the shape of the muscles still seen, and becoming pronounced when he moved. He weighed almost 400 pounds and guessed his height at about 6’5”, almost a foot taller than he had been. Greg craned his head way back and looked up at Mike’s face so far above. Greg stepped in just a little and rested his chest against the top of Mike’s massive barrel, his arms reaching up and resting on Mikes’ power belly. Mike guessed Greg was about 5’ tall now, getting close to Mikes’ gut. Greg was slim. “You...you...you are a real giant to me - you’re like twice my size!” “Yeah little man, and maybe ten times your weight! HA HA HA!!!” Mike lifted his arms again into a giant double bicep pose, lording his massiveness over Greg, turning his head to see his own flexing 25” arms. “Yeah you little fucker! Look at that arm! Bigger than your head!” Mike looked down at Greg. “No, you can’t see it from down there. Let me fix that!” Mike crabbed down into a most muscular pose, his great shaggy head just a foot away from Gregs face, his arms on either side of Greg’s tiny body. “BOOM!” Mike said. Mikes’ watermelon sized arms flexed inwards at Greg, his chest almost knocking the tiny man over being flexed in front of him. Greg put one hand on each pulsing bicep, stroking and mumbling. “So big...so thick..surrounding me….” “Yeah buddy! I’m BIG Mike! And that’s just my arms!” Greg looked up at Mike, towering almost half again his size - something no one had done to him since early childhood! Greg was stuttering. “So...big...so...massive….” Mike: “Feel that leg now, Tiny Bear! Feel my calf while you’re there! Get on your knees!” Greg dropped to both knees, his head now just bumping into Mike’s bulging crotch. “Big Bear...I think you grew somewhere else too!” “Yes! Hadn’t planned on it...but a big man can use a big cock! But, you’ll get that dessert later, Little Bear.” Mike grinned the way only a man with a giant cock does. “Right now...lick those quads. I’m not as clean as I want to be. BOOM!” Mike flexed one leg closest to Greg, every head of the quadriceps bulging and separated hugely before him. “Lick those lines clean Little Man!” Greg started licking, loving being smaller than ever, being dominated for real by a giant man, bigger than him, overpowering him, making him do whatever the bigger man said. As a tall man he had never truly given in before...now he was. He licked and stroked the massive thigh in front of him. His hands moving over the muscle were so tiny in comparison. Greg had not had to look up at someone in years and intimidated most men he met. Being in front of a man who must be at least four times his weight, and 25% taller, was entrancing. “Now my calf. Clean it boy!” Mike lifted the flexed leg up on toes, making the massive calf ball up and bulge out even more. “Yes, my Big Bear Master! Yes!” Greg’s cock was as hard as it could get, dying for release. He licked the two heads of the calf in front of him, all of his attention focused on pleasing his Big Musclebear Master. “Sir, may I come? I so want to come! You are so big over me...so...so..so..strong.!” “Shrinking Bear, I’m going to pick you up, and you can come when I tell you. It’ll be soon. Now, stand up again.” Greg stood up, Mike leaned forward over him again, making Greg move back just a little in shock of the man so much bigger than him. “I bet you don’t weigh a damn thing Little Bear. Let’s see!” Mike grabbed Greg around the waist with both hands and picked him so his arms were straight out in front of him. Greg’s head was just a little above Mike’s. “So light, you’re just so fucking LIGHT!!!! YES!!!!” Greg’s cock was sticking straight out as he looked down, some, at Mike. The 6’5” powerlifter was inhumanly vast from his growth, at least four feet across the shoulders, and two from front to back. Mike’s shoulders were legitimately bigger than basketballs. “Little bear, I’m going to suck your cock just like this while I’m standing here, and you’re going to come right then, so you please your Musclebear Master, yes?” “Yes sir! Ye-” Before Greg could finish his sentence Mike opened his big mouth and took Greg’s cock and balls inside, sucking on Greg’s cock, teasing his balls. Greg came in less than ten seconds, screaming in pleasure instantly. “YEEEEESSSSS! YESSSSSSSS!!! AUGGGHHHHH!!! OH GOD, AUUGGGGGHHHHH! YES!!!!!!!” It felt like Mike had sucked his balls totally dry right in that moment...but Greg knew he had more, just not yet. Greg dropped limp in Mikes grasp, totally spent. Mike lowered Greg down, back to shoulder height, and gradually made his way over to Greg’s oversized couch nearby. Being so tall, Greg had a lot of “big guy” furniture. Mike wasn’t yet the height Greg had been, but he was far heavier and thicker. Mike lay out on the couch in his gym shorts, his right leg up on the couch, his left foot on the ground, with the five foot tall Greg stretched out against him, his back against Mike’s torso, legs up on the couch. Greg was still dazed and spent, happy in the strongest afterglow he had ever been in. Mike’s giant right arm held Greg against him. With his left hand, Mike stroked Greg slowly. “Yes little bear, rest a moment. You’re going to need it. There you go...rest a bit….” Greg, naked, shrunken, and spent, actually fell asleep against Mike. Mike - Big Mike - just watched the little man against his chest. Sometimes flexing his own arm or moving his hand, feeling happy about how massive he was, and how small his formerly towering friend felt against him. About a half hour later, Greg slowly woke up. He took a moment to realize the massive arm across him was real. In his own mind, he was still an almost 7’ tall man. For a moment, he was in the arm of a ten foot hill of fur and muscle, holding him tight. Then he realized that the couch and everything else were bigger, and that what had happened was real. “Mike.” “Yes, Greg.” “Can we get up?” “Yes. But you’re not getting ‘up’ as much as you’re used to!” Mike lifted his arm, and Greg swung himself around and stood up on the floor. Mike stayed seated on the couch, but swung around to sit up, facing Greg. Greg, standing, was only a handful of inches taller than Mike, seated. Greg was just staring at Mike for a moment, reaching out and rubbing Mike’s massive shoulders. “Damn, you are so big, Bear! So wide!” “Yeah, buddy! But I think I’m still not as tall as you were.” “I think you might be right, but man, you have to understand what it’s like to be looking at you like this.” “Like this? How about like THIS!” Mike stood up. Greg was staring into the bottom of Mike’s thick chest. Greg got instantly hard again. “Yeah big man, that’s definitely it. Damn, your arms are the size of my head!” “Yeah, they are”, Mike brought them up for a big bicep flex which took Greg a moment back, “but I think it’s time for me to find out just how big I’ve grown in the shorts, know what I mean?” Mike dropped his hands to his gym shorts and underwear, shoved them down, then kicked them away. His cock was starting to rise up. Mike had been below height, but about average on his dick. Now, having grown almost 20% bigger, his cock was also bigger in proportion. “Greg,I think it’s time to bury this big cock somewhere, little buddy!” Bury it somewhere before it’s too big for you to take it anymore, Mike thought to himself. Greg looked at the 9” cock in front of him, seeming much larger than he would have taken it just a day ago. “Yes Big Mike! Let’s go for it!” Greg opened an end table drawer next to the couch, pulled out a bottle of lube. “Go for it big man!” Mike threw the cushions from the couch onto the floor in a pile, and pushed Greg, surprised, down onto them. Mike was forceful, but never this much, when they’d played around before. “Flip over, little man. I want you face down.” Greg turned over as the big, naked, musclebear squirted some lube into his hand, then onto Greg’s hole, and his own cock. Mike’s 9” cock slid easily into Greg’s hole, and his arms readily reached around Greg’s chest from behind. Mike was surprised that Greg wasn’t a tighter fit, but remembered what a size queen Greg was, for both toys and men. Even at this size he wasn’t really tight, but Greg was definitely having a good time. It wasn’t bad for him, but he had tighter, and bigger, plans. “Buddy”, Mike said,”This is great, but how about you give me whatever another six inches of your height and strength are?” “What? Mike, you’re already inside….wowowohhhh fuuuuuuuccccckkkkk!” As Mike kept Greg stuffed from behind and held across his front, Greg felt what seemed to be Mike’s cock growing inside him, bigger every moment, and pulsing differently as Mike pumped his ass, alternating with twitching his cock inside the smaller man’s butt. Mike only grew an inch or two from this new “gift” of Greg’s, but to Greg, the world was getting a lot bigger. In one specific way, the way he was wrapped around what seemed to him to be a steadily growing cock, Greg’s world was getting just a little smaller. “Yeah, that’s it Shrinking Bear, getting tighter all over my cock, just what I wanted! YES!” he kept slowly pounding in and out of Greg’s ass, his now smaller body tight around his cock. “YES! Just what I fucking wanted! Pounding your little, tiny ass, Shrinking bear! So small now!” Mike kept pumping Greg, revelling in his size over this man who was now approaching two-thirds his size. He was just as turned on by the feelings in his cock as the feelings in his head, knowing the man he’s pounding right now used to be the tallest man he’d ever met. That idea built and built in Mike’s mind, and in a few moments the dam broke against the moving water-wall of fuck-energy and Mike came, yelling, and Greg came again, yelling in pleasure. After a few moments of both men shouting, Greg coming and Mike shooting inside Greg’s hole, Mike pulled out and they both rolled over onto their backs, momentarily spent and breathing hard. Mike turned his head towards Greg. “Bud, that was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time, and it was all due to your shrunken ass, Small Bear.” “Big man, that was one of the best I’ve ever had!”