Arthur Thorn Part One by F_R_Eaky

[FREaky]

Arthur Thorn

by F_R_Eaky

 

Part One

 

"I'm on a stage and there are dozens of spotlights focused on me, but I don't know why.  I'm in my favorite clothes: light blue dress shirt, khaki pants, white cross trainer sneakers.  Out of all my clothes they're the ones that fit me best.

 

"But then something begins to happen.  I'm not sure what or why it is happening.  I just can feel that my heart rate begins to race, yet my breathing is becoming slower and slower.  My clothes begin to feel constricting, getting tighter and tighter,  I don't feel disturbed by this, just relieved, happy, proud. Any rate I can feel my toes beginning to press into the front of my shoes.  The sides are becoming impossibly restrictive and I know my toes are starting to form rising ridges across the top front of the shoes.  Just when I think I can't take the constriction and pain any more, the shoe gives in and this semi loud rip is heard as my shoe splits apart down each side.  This is followed by the toes bursting forth from the front and then my foot just grows and grows like stretching across the floor becoming longer and wider, thick and meaty.  The size of them now raising the top of the shoe as my ankles start becoming thicker and the bridges of my feet begin to snap the lacings.  They're not getting monstrously huge like clown feet, but still from my size sixes they've grown into something like a size seventeen or eighteen.

 

"But I don't have time to worry about that. The growth has now spread into my body.  I can feel the tingling and the temperature rising in my hands and limbs.  I look down in awe as I watch my hands pulse and throb and with each pump they stretch out becoming longer, thicker, denser, broader.  I don't know how my arms are able to lift my hands up they're matching my feet in growth.  They've...they've become these huge massive bear paws that could manhandle anything you put into them and a basketball is going to be able to be palmed single handedly without any problems.

 

"But the throbbing isn't confined to my feet.  I can feel, sense my body lurching up higher and higher, taller and broader.  I can feel my pants hem rising up my legs, the ankles feeling the breeze first then the bottom of the calves, then the middle.  I feel my waist band begin to dig into me, but I know I'm not getting fatter.  The band is also trying to hang lower and lower upon my hips.  Meanwhile my sleeve cuffs have begun to slide up my arms as the lengthen and reach out further and farther than before.  The shirt hem is rising and rising climbing its way up my abs.

 

"...My abs......  I never refer to myself as having abs. I'm not fat or anything, just smooth.  Never have been able to develop any ridges or definition down there.  But this time I am.... my abs keep bunching and crunching with the pulses now and with each one they grow larger, harder, more defined until looking down my body I can see I've developed a four pack....six pack....eight pack and then like a spider web slowly dissolving into being, if that makes sense, my obliques appear....

 

"It is at that moment all hell breaks loose with my body.  The pulses become stronger more forceful, sending their energy out to all and every section of it.  Now I can't concentrate on what part is growing, because everything is.  I feel my pants hem suddenly becoming smaller and tighter threatening to cut off circulation to my feet and dig into my skin until it pinches my feet and legs off at the calves.  But it wasn't the hems becoming smaller, it was my calves becoming bigger...just suddenly swelling up like some kind of balloon suddenly filled with air.  No... not air.  They are too full, too heavy to be filled with air.  It is more like water or perhaps being filled with a slurry of plaster.  At any rate the pants begin to take a shape having to conform to the shape of my calves they're so tight.  It begins to look like I have these baseballs there behind my shins and they keep throbbing, pulsing into these large upside down heart shapes and then this kind of off looking diamond shape, all huge and hard with network of plump, fat veins running across them as though they were vines or ropes trying to lash and hold my calves in and down.

 

"Eventually one of them makes contact with my hamstrings and they jut out and up becoming a mighty suspension cable going across the back of my leg.  I can feel my thighs inflating now.  My god!  My legs are becoming so full, thick, and heavy.  I don't know how I'm going to walk.  Yet there they are inflating further and further.  My pants begin to look painted on as these massive teardrop shapes begin to form in the front.  Looking down on myself I can tell I'm developing very large and freakish thighs.  I'm beginning to look like a professional competition cyclist where the thighs are so huge they look almost wing like compared to the rest of the upper body.  The reverse of all those men who only concentrate on their arms, chest, and abs, and never even think of leg day.  And soon it happens.... the pops....the tears.....the rips..... my legs are splitting the seams apart, snapping the hems, popping the waistband button and my ass, which is now swelling and rounding out into these huge massive globes, the rip the ass and crotch of my pants out and soon, the tatters flutter to the floor and I'm standing there in my underwear and shrinking shirt.

 

"Can't forget the shirt.  Oh no... ... ... The cuffs of the sleeves have now ridden halfway up my forearms but have become stuck there.  I am constantly turning and twisting my hands, wrists around and around, then holding them in a position bent inwards so I can scrunch up and flex my forearm muscles, watching them swell and grow like their counterparts the calves did.  Seeing in anticipation and excitement as veins begin to raise up on my hands and then travel across them and up the forearms criss-crossing this way and that feeding and fueling my growing body, my muscles that are becoming so swole... so incredibly jacked!  Snap! ... goes the cuffs of my sleeves and the tear goes all the way up to the crook of my elbow.

 

"Then I begin to flex my arm.  My biceps and triceps have begun to swell so large and thick now that they're forcing the sleeves to take on their shape.  Each time I flex the fabric is getting stretched tighter and tighter in a relaxed position let alone flexed.  Over and over again I watch them grow and inflate in size, definition, and power as I flex.  I feel like I'm imitating Sebastian 'Mr. Superduude' Lidén in his old, old video where he starts flexing his arm and looks at it in shock like he never noticed his arm muscles were there, they just popped into existence, and he's chanting away in disbelief, 'what the fuck?  what the fuck!  what...the...fuck!  Whaaat the fuuuuuuuuck!'

 

"That's how I feel.  I'm chanting away, in my head, 'What the fuck!', but at the same time it's also chanting. 'more....More....MORE.....MOAR!'  I feel like there's this raging, hulking, man beast inside of me trying to break through and with those last thoughts it cause a surge in the growth and suddenly I swell in several places at once.  My arms decimate the sleeves now in a matter of seconds.  Swelling and growing, 15 inches....16 inches.....17.....18.....19.....21........23........25.......  The begin to rise up now at angles, too.  No longer can I hold my arms straight down when I let them just hang there.  No... I can feel something meaty from underneath lifting and pushing them up.  I can feel air now circulating under my arm pits.  My lats have developed into full sized wings, thickening, broadening.  If it they were a part of my old body, I could jump from a build and glide on air currents with these things they are so broad and thick.  Coming up from my obliques the move on up to meet my upper arms and help form some of the deepest pits I have ever seen on an athlete.

 

"But the swelling continues to my delts forming these huge, bowling ball sized balls of marble or granite at the top of my arms.  They have split the sleeve now all the way up and now, splitting the top of the shirt, are my trapezius as they rise like mountain ridges to connect to the lengthening and thickening column that is my neck, which is becoming longer and longer as my body and head continue to rise higher and higher.  I am becoming so tall.

 

"Then I feel it.... the swelling, the increase in weight.... it begins in my arm pits and shoots out across the lower portion of my chest, to gather in the center.  The front of my shirt becomes pulled from both sides of my body.  The buttons strain to hold together the two front pieces of fabric.  I hear small tiny pops and the shirt fronts move farther apart.  Peek-a-boo holes begin to form in between each button.  Another series of snaps and those holes become larger.  The ridge from arm pit to chest center begins to be seen through the shirt.  My chest begins to look like it has some shape to it.  It's not longer completely flat.  Soon two bouncing, firm, crescents hang and lift the shirt and the top three buttons up higher in the air and more parallel to the ground than perpendicular.  The crescents give way to plates. The plates to globes.... and suddenly there is this massive, broad, and bulging rise that cause the shirt to split in two sending a shower of buttons into the faceless crowd cheering me on.

 

"My chest free, my back and shoulders join it and thicken in mass and size making me look even broader than before.  I've got to look nearly as broad as I am tall.. ... ... and I am tall.... oh am I tall!  The clothes all in tatters fall of me and I step out in my underwear to take my place among the competitors. I am damn near a half a foot taller than some of the tallest competitors who are there and they are like six-feet one-inch tall!  I continue to swell for a little bit in muscles size and density and I can tell my strength is massive too.  I feel so huge.... all powerful....I am Heracles.... I am Sampson.....I am the biggest bodybuilder of all time and I am also cut, defined, and jacked as hell!  The feeling of it.... the feeling of my body, so heavy I have to waddle to walk.... I make incredibly loud thuds when I tip-toe....the knowledge that I am the biggest....the best....the strongest....hell even the most virile.  It all thrills me....excites me.....makes me proud....turns me on.....makes me horny as hell.... which suddenly causes my cock and balls to begin to grow and grow.  I can't see past my chest. no... my pecs.  I can't see past my pecs but I can feel every inch of basket as it grows larger and thicker.  As my balls inflate to ample size.  and that's when my underwear bursts and there I am performing competition posing in the nude.

 

"But it doesn't matter, the crowd is going wild.  I mean they are worked up into such a frenzy over my size they could storm the stage, grab the trophy, hand it to me, and break down the walls trying to lift me up and carry me out in victory!.... ..... ... That's when I begin to walk to it..... the medallion..... it is the symbol that I have won. ... .... ... it is the culmination of all I have worked for... ... ... ..."

 

"And what happens then?"

 

"Suddenly there is terrible jerk, as if the whole world suddenly stopped moving and we all fell from our standing positions.  The medallion is just yanked away and I never see it again.  So.... tell me Dr. Orlando, I'm pretty screwed up aren't I?"

 

"As you ask that question you don't sound anywhere near thoroughly convinced that that notion is true."

 

"Isn't it?  I mean.... I know deep down inside I'm fine physically.  I have a partner for goodness sake. No, I'm not huge....I'm neither tall, nor built, nor hung..... .... but I'm okay with my body.  I am happy with myself.  I do understand that bigger isn't always better, but I still have these dreams.  I have day dreams...fantasies....I.... ..... ....I have pleasurable personal moments with these thoughts and pictures of bodybuilders...."

 

"You mean you masturbate, Mr. Thorn."

 

"I mean I personally..."

 

"Call it what it is, Mr. Thorn.  There is nothing wrong with masturbation.  It's a perfectly normal everyday thing, especially for young men in their twenties."

 

"But I can't stop thinking about it.  I mean...even in the dream I get so turned on by it I grow and explode out of my underwear.  Freud got to have me classified as some kind of pervert...."

 

"Not all of Freud's theories were sexually based, Mr. Thorn, and even concerning them you're still not classified as a pervert.  You said earlier you wear clothing and shoes of men much larger than you... that might make you a little preoccupied with this fetish of yours, but not a pervert.  You're not stalking anyone for the clothing are you?"

 

"No...."

 

"You're not throwing away your life savings on purchasing any of these items?"

 

"No...I've only bought the two items I mentioned earlier, the football jersey and the shoes."

 

"What is your real reason for coming in to see me, Mr. Thorn."

 

"What?  Well, I want to know if I'm damaged.  I mean my.... my....."

 

"You now sound defensive and you can't say the word obsession.  There is neither guilt, remorse, nor shame in your voice when you talk about these things.  Personally you don't see this fantasy as a problem, so again, I ask, why are YOU here?"

 

Arthur bowed his head and took in a big sigh. "It was my partner's, David's, idea.  He's not bothered by my... 'obsession.'  It's actually what drew us together.  I not only like the idea of being a huge, powerful man, I'm attracted to them as well."

 

"David is a big, powerfully built, strong man?"

 

"Yeah....he's 6' 4" tall and around 240 pounds."

 

"American football material..."

 

"Yeah... He kind of digs it that I like to worship his body and admire it."

 

"He doesn't have a problem with your more diminutive stature?"

 

"No.... ....  He loves me just for who I am.  The fact of it is, he wouldn't have even suggested me coming here if it wasn't for me.  I keep trying to put aside the fantasies, telling him I won't think on them any more as he's all the man I need..."

 

"And you've not been able to get rid of the fantasies."

 

"No....I've not."

 

"How long have you had these fantasies?"

 

"Since I hit puberty...maybe before..."

 

"Well... I don't think you're crazy, nor do I think you have an obsession.  You don't allow it to impede your daily life.  You take care of yourself, your home, your finances, your relationship.  Our time is up for today.  I will offer you three things to think about.  First as you've been using these fantasies to fuel your masturbation sessions while you grew up, they have become a key element to your sexual arousal.  You may find you need to concentrate more on your partner and yourself to fuel your desires.  It will take some time to change but you will need to practice it.  Second you need to see your normal self as desirable to your partner, David.  You say you are comfortable with who you are, then be comfortable with your body, even during sex.  Which brings me to my third point.  Although you say you are fine with your body, that doesn't necessarily mean it won't raise a concern with you, especially when it comes to matters of love and intimacy.  You say this interest in being built and big is what drew you and your partner together, and both of you accept who you are, but perhaps you are worried that either emotionally for David you are not a big enough man, or that physically you won't be able to handle those intimate moments from David given that he's a foot taller than you."

 

"Really?  You think so?"

 

"It's a possibility, but one we will have to explore only after you have begun to explore and think on it yourself.  As I said, I wouldn't classify it as an obsession, Mr. Thorn.  You work, you play, you take care of mundane responsible tasks, you have a relationship, you think on other things with focus besides muscles, and height, etc.  It doesn't seem to be a negative.  In fact it could become a positive.  You might even be able to allow David to enter these fantasies of yours or help you explore them, or he become the object of a fantasy scenario.  All depends upon where you want to go.  I have to attend to my next appointment.  If you feel like you really need to have another session, go ahead and make an appointment with my receptionist, or if you'd like the name of a good couple's relationship therapist, ask her for the one I have on file to recommend.  Otherwise, I think you're fine, Mr. Thorn."

 

"All right.  Well... thank you, Dr. Orlando."

 

"My pleasure."

[ilgm616]

Love it. Hope theres more to come.

[musclesmoker]

I was hoping the doc would prescribe something to make him grow! Hope he gets massive (but not a giant) .