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  • 2 weeks later...

This is the last of the non-growth parts for now. I still have around 3-4 more parts in me before going on hiatus again. In preparation for the next batch, when I'm capable of working on them, I would love to know which of the existing parts (from the first to the most recent) you as a reader enjoyed reading the most. I've been exercising minute differences in each of the recent parts to see which would be the most entertaining/readable, and while some of the comments do help in shaping how I continue this story, your concrete answer/s would be greatly appreciated as well as any comments, suggestions, reactions, and even theories (though there is no more changing the ending). I apologize if it's a bit nerve-wracking at times, I've just been working on some suspense alongside this project.



PART 12a

It took every bit of my willpower to contain my thoughts after what had happened at the Adamson house that Saturday morning. I had to suppress them, shove them into the dark corners of my brain with the rest. 

It was foolish of me. I should’ve expected it: Jeremy and Lisa weren’t just going to stay in the kitchen drinking tea when no one had seen Froy in weeks. No one, but me.

I still remembered it so clearly. Both their faces, rigid with shock, dropped jaws as stiff as marble, both pairs of eyes trained at Froy’s enormity behind me. Jeremy’s voice was still ceaselessly echoing in my ears, an itch I couldn’t scratch, no matter how much it bled. 

“Froy? What the fuck happened to you? You can’t be my brother. You’re too big to be him. He’s supposed to be small, and skinny, and… and—” … “Did— did you two really just have sex?” … “Lisa and I heard everything … I know enough.

For the second time that day, I had to (regrettably) explain to Jeremy what the meteors were and what they did: what they did to ‘me’, to Froy, to Wes, and to Marcus. But not to Lisa. I kept shut about her.

Jeremy locked himself in his room for the rest of the weekend. After that encounter, he wasn’t ready to process what had happened to his once-smaller brother so soon, especially since Froy used to be the target of his torment. Esther, on the other hand, wasn’t too surprised with what had happened to Froy. He’d been steadily growing for a while now. She didn’t know what it was that made him become so inhumanly big, but she wasn’t about to question what may have been a very expensive medical problem.

With Froy’s mother safely in the picture, we navigated Froy out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom where we bathed him. Or, struggled to. He didn’t fit under the showerhead anymore (it barely reached the overhang of his chest), so we had him sit down. Esther, Lisa, and I all grabbed towels and scrubbed Froy clean of two weeks’ worth of grime. There was that smell of semen still cemented on his body, though, even after an hour of scraping. Thankfully, none of the women seemed to recognize what it was. Lisa likely had her suspicions but kept quiet. He may have been an adult, but we weren’t about to embarrass him in front of his mother.

After I got a promise kiss from Froy to return to work on Monday, after his mother bought him some new clothes, I hitched a ride with Lisa back to my place.

I was glad to be back in the comfort of my apartment. With the visit out of the way, I foraged through my storage closet for my old lab kit. For once in my life, I was grateful to have a degree in Chemistry. Most of the glassware was damaged and in need of repair. But it was easy enough to find suitable replacements at the nearby hardware store. 

Donning my apron, I got to work on reverse-engineering the strange pill Marcus made, causing whoever took it to produce and release a bucket-load of cum within seconds. I was glad Marcus told me beforehand what one of the ingredients was: a pricey bottle of vodka, Priapus. Known for its particularly intense aphrodisiac qualities. From there, it was easy enough finding the rest of the stuff from the supermarket after a little bit of research. By research, of course, I mean digging up Marcus’ social media feed for anything that looked remotely suspicious. And there were a lot of things I’m sure loads of people would’ve found dubious. But I didn’t have time to debate with myself over the ethics of my friends’ social lives. 

I didn’t sleep over the weekend. Not a wink of it. For a time, I regretted taking on Wes’ task of recreating the stupid tic-tacs just so he could put on a few pounds and inches. If I just told him about Lisa, I wouldn’t have needed to neglect my personal life for a few hundred dollars. But it was still a month’s worth of rent. And it wasn’t as bad as the consequences of telling him (or anyone) about what Lisa could do. 

Come Monday, I managed to make a prototype batch. They resembled the real deal. I thought I’d conduct a little experiment and take one in my shower just to check if they worked. Was I a fan of using myself as a guinea pig? No, not unless there was easy money involved—

—which, in this case, there was. The effect was milder than I anticipated, as if I’d diluted something in the solution that weakened its potency, barely causing me to get stiff. And a little bit tipsy. After a few more swallows, I was able to recreate the same effect of the original pill after taking four of the prototype. And I had 20 left. It would have to do for a while, at least, until I got around to asking Marcus if he remembered anything else from his little kitchen experiment that would help me create a perfect replica.

I brought enough for a single dose on Monday morning. I was worried the pills would get wet since the gray sky was heavy with dark clouds. It was a miracle I made it to the office without needing to take out my umbrella. It would likely rain later on in the day, but not so early that it would ruin my attire. Not when I didn’t even get a chance to impress Froy with my new and improved self yet. 

It was a bit of a struggle fitting into my old clothes. They were made for a man three inches shorter and 25 pounds skinnier. Not someone 5’10” with a beginner’s worth of muscle, enough to make the old me look emaciated. I felt a stirring inside me whenever I looked at myself in the mirror: it wasn’t someone I recognized, yet it was me all the same. At some angles, I actually surprised myself, catching myself checking my own body out. I looked better than I used to. Dare I say, I looked good? The small lumps in my chest and upper arms actually stretched the fabric of my old clothes to the point of snugness. For the first time, my shoulders actually went past the sleeves of my shirts, causing them to ride up dangerously close to my armpits. The top button of my button-down couldn’t be closed. The hem of my pants barely reached my ankles. The belt had to be locked a hole or two wider than I was used to. And my shoes? I used to be a size 9. Now, I was an 11. 

My heart was pulled two ways whenever I peeked a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the elevator doors. I’d been so used to being small and painfully below-average my whole life. It was my comfort zone, a constant I could always believe in when the world was being unpredictable; my parents and old flames used to tell me as much. Yet, there was that speck of confidence taking form in my mind, begging to be noticed, wanting to be heard: telling me that I could do with a little more. Be a little more.

But it was too early in the morning to be worrying about my body. I promised Froy I’d never close the size gap between us, and I was not one to break my word. 

When I arrived on the work floor, most of the lights were still off, and there was barely a skeleton crew loitering around, getting ready for another gruesome week of work. Some were coming from the pantry, carrying fresh coffee in paper cups, eyes barely halfway open. 

As I passed by their desks, it was impossible to ignore their stares. My coworkers were watching me, eyeing me, curiously. Everyone in our department had their fair share of growing men walking among them in the past month, but it had only ever been limited to three: Wes, Marcus, and Froy. Not me. Never me. I was always relegated to their purse, another tool for them to carry around. It didn't bother me so much before. But now, there was that foreign voice in my head: demanding that they compliment me at least a little. It wasn’t mine. I shook it off before it got in the way.

I disappeared in my cubicle and waited for the workday to begin. My computer was already booted up, and there was no better time to take a personal tour of the new setup Jeremy had arranged for me. It took a couple of minutes, but I committed it to muscle memory easily. He’d made it easy.

Then I felt a pat on my back, that same familiar grip that pulled my cheeks into a grin. Even with that wound of guilt draining my lungs. “Hey,” Jeremy said. “How’s your new system?” He pointed at my monitor; his eyes glimmered.

I greeted him with a smile, not wanting to ruin our friendship with unnecessary dramatics. “Hey! It’s, uh, great, actually. You were right. It’s easy to use once I got the hang of it.” My eyes watched him carefully, vigilant for any differences in demeanor or expression, as he sat in his chair and sighed heavily into his entwined fingers resting on his desk.

He didn’t turn back to look at me; though I sensed it was less that he ‘didn’t’ and more that he ‘couldn’t’. 

After all— “You just fucked my little bro?” Those were among the many words that burdened my mind. Jeremy was ready to pounce on me that morning. A foot was already planted, and a rigid fist was balling in the air. Froy had to step up and keep me away, “don’t hurt him!” he said, “I’m not your little brother anymore, Jeremy.”

“Can I get you some coffee?” he asked, head bowed, eyes waxen. “It’s the least I can do after what I almost did to you last Saturday. I was immature.”

Shaking my head, I stood up. “No, let me,” I said. “You have a lot to process.” I held onto the divider as I prepared to head down the walkway to the pantry.

But Jeremy caught me before I could flee. “So, wait, you… how long have you and Froy been a thing?” he asked. “I guess I forgot he was 20 now. He still has that stupid baby face.”

“A few weeks? Nothing long-term yet. It was around the time the first meteor started taking effect, starting with Marcus.”

“And you said he’s so big because he drains people? How many— how many did he need to take from to gain so much size?” he asked. “He hasn’t killed anyone, has he?”

“No one’s dead. Don’t worry. He’s no murderer. And he’s only stolen from four people.” I lifted a hand to my chest. “Me included. That’s why I was so small when you first met me. Marcus, Wes, and some rapist were the others.”

“A rapist?” Jeremy asked. 

“Yeah. Some ass drugged and tried to assault me in the shower of the gym while Marcus and Froy were away. Your brother found me before anything bad happened though, thankfully. It was the first time we ever actually saw it happen. Until then, we didn’t know if the meteor even did anything to him.”

I could see the relief wash over Jeremy’s face as he loosened his shoulders and relaxed in his chair. He smiled, and I relished the return of the spark in his eyes. “Good to hear the tyke’s been doing fine without me.”

“Speaking of,” I asked. “Where is he anyway?”

“Oh. He— he had some, uh, wardrobe malfunctions with the clothes our mom bought. He said he’d be here by noon. Also told me to tell you not to worry.”

“Oh? What kind of wardrobe malfunction?”

Jeremy chuckled, logging into his various accounts to prepare for work. “The usual. His junk was too big for the extra-extra-extra-extra large briefs. His tits couldn’t fit in any of the shirts without tearing the buttons open. Pants too short. Sleeves too tight. Bla-bla, yada-yada. You get the picture.” He shook his head. “I still can’t wrap my head around it. He’s just… beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Not even the biggest guys in the prison— god.”

“I’ve been there. You get used to it after a while, the whole everyone-shrinking-and-growing schtick. Maybe that’s why we haven’t hired anyone in a while. Maybe they quit as soon as they notice what’s going on around here.” I laughed. “So I’ll be right back with coffee. You… there’s no beef between the two of us, right?”

He shot his head back in a chort and grinned, shooing me with a dainty hand. “Besides my brother? Nah,” he said, before pointedly raising both his eyebrows. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten. You still promised me a demonstration today. I want to see it happen.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance,” I said, waving him goodbye with a ‘Ciao’ as I headed to the pantry. 

By now, most of the workforce on the floor had come in and started working. All the lights had turned on, and the printers were whirring away like a storm. Nobody paid much attention to me anymore. I guess I didn’t really warrant it. 5’10” was still a normal height; it wasn’t like I was hitting seven feet or anything. Besides the odd remark on my good shape and regained height, it was an uneventful walk. People asked me how I did it, but I kept shut. Rumors of Wes, Marcus, and Froy being on some experimental work initiative program were already going around, and it wouldn’t have been good if the gossip bubble popped with my needlepoint of truth. Whatever kept them confused was working fine. 

When I got to the pantry, the door was closed. It was curious; around the office, it was an unspoken rule that it’d always be kept open unless someone or something important was inside and needed privacy. Normally, it’d be Marcus taking nudes or tampering with the water supply.

I was right, of course. But it wasn’t Marcus. Upon opening the door, two figures were standing inside: both tall, one skinny as a lamp post, the other a hulking mass of beef who didn’t quite fit into his pastel yellow polo shirt. The latter was Wes. His mocha skin, considerable size, and glossy hair were obvious enough. The other was a redhead—with a beach tan that only brought back bad memories.

“Oh, there’s the man of the hour!” Sammy said, in an irritatingly sing-song voice. “Wes was just talking about you. Though— I remember you were shorter.”

Wes turned to face me and grinned, though his wrinkled brow and curious eyes held a different expression. “Hey, Dory— whoa, hey, when did you get so tall?” he asked, pulling the burdened sleeves out of his armpits. 

“So this is new to you too?” Sammy asked. “I thought you said he didn’t get hit by the meteor?”

Wes stared at me, walking over with a paw-like fist gripping a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He stopped a few inches away. “He didn’t.” His downward gaze was a spotlit microscope, examining every inch of my face, my body—emphasizing just how much taller he still was to me by at least a good four inches. “It was me, Marcus, Avery, and—“

“And me!” I interrupted, much to his chagrin. “I also got hit.”

Wes leaned down to my ear and whispered, his raspy morning vocal fry reverberating in my skull. And my groin. “That’s not what I remember,” he said. A thick hand then lifted the meteorite necklace from his chest, proving that his memory was not up for debate.

“Trust me,” I said, doing my best to sound convincing.

He blinked in acknowledgement and stood back to his full height. Seeing him side-to-side in comparison with his skeletal friend was humorous in its irony; Wes’ arm alone looked like it had enough muscle to double that of Sammy’s, and he was probably three if not four times as wide. In fact, Wes looked like he was just as tall. Sammy was 6’3” if I remembered correctly. But I knew that couldn’t have been right—unless…

“Wes… did you—“ 

He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee and peering at me with pointed eyes. “Mhm,” he mumbled. “But only once. A little handful over the weekend. Didn’t want to overdo it. Finding new clothes hasn’t been easy.”

Sammy nudged him in the arm to no effect. “I could make it easy,” he said, in a vain attempt at seduction. He withered at Wes’ distinct non-reaction. 

“Anyway,” Wes said, leaning against the opposite wall. “If you’re here for coffee, there’s probably enough in this batch for two more cups.”

“Uh, thanks.” I latched onto his words and poured two paper cups’ worth. It was a little warmer than room temperature, but it would have to do. Mondays weren’t complete without subpar coffee served in a paper cup.

Wes and Sammy eyed me like snipers. “Two?” Wes asked, scratching his five-o’clock shadow. “Who’s the lucky man? Have you managed to get Froy to come back?”

“Yes and no. Or— no… and yes? Fuck.” My tongue was tripping over my words. “No, I mean, the other one’s for Jeremy. And yes, I did drag Froy out of his room over the weekend. He said he’d come in today after lunch.”

Wes grinned, amused, as if he couldn’t care less that Froy had drained him twice now. “Good! That’s good. We need a guy like him around here.”

I then pulled out the pills from my pocket. “I also managed to make a couple of these stupid things. They aren’t as good as the real deal, but they work fine.”

His eyes lit up at the sight, and I swear he was moments away from salivating. “Oh… wow.”

“We can test them after lunch in your office. Also, I— I sort of promised someone I’d give him a demonstration of how the whole growing thing happens, so we might have an audience.”

“Who? I thought we were keeping this whole meteor thing a secret? And… did you say a ‘demonstration’…?” A million gears were churning inside Wes’ brain as he stared me down, engulfing me in a glimpse of the inner machinations behind his eyes. “And how many did you bring with you for your”—he finger-quoted aggressively in the air—“‘demonstration’?” he asked.

“Four. And it’s Jeremy. Jeremy Adamson. You know, Froy’s older brother? The one you interviewed and hired? The scary nerd sitting next to me?”

“Oh, him. Yeah, I figured I should’ve told you, but that wouldn’t’ve been very fun. If you’re asking why I hired him, it had nothing to do with our intern-of-the-year being his brother. I just had a look at his credentials, saw that he would’ve been a valuable asset, and figured no one would notice that he was fresh out of prison. You didn’t think I, of all people, would skip out on a background check, would you? All that untapped blackmail?”

“And would I be allowed to take part in this public demonstration? Or is it employees only?” Sammy asked, finishing the last of his coffee. 

I shook my head. “I’d prefer it if you stayed out of this. I’m trying to keep this whole situation under control, and all the extra characters are just making things more confusing than they need to be. No offense.”

Sammy raised his cup in acknowledgment and sighed. “None taken. It was worth a try.”

Wes blew through his nose and patted Sammy on the back in reconciliation. “Don’t worry. It’s just this one time. You’re still invited to my birthday this Friday.”

Just like that, Wes’ hollow-cheeked friend wore a satisfied smile under saddened eyes. “And where is that again?”

Wes pointed at the ground, close to his chest. “Here. The office. It’s going to be at conference room 7 at 8pm. HR employees only—with you, of course.” He then smiled and nudged Sammy, causing him to stumble and nearly trip over himself. “You got a gift ready?” he asked.

“Huh? Was our little talk not enough for you? Because I don’t know what else I could possibly give you, Wesley babe.”

“Little talk?” I asked.

“Guess. Why do you think Sammy’s here in the first place?” Wes asked, giving pause for dramatic effect. “He’s buying out Haley & Bennett's. He’s meeting with the board in an hour or so to push negotiations forward. Isn’t that right?”

Sammy nodded, fluttering his eyelashes. “Every word.” He sighed. “Got to love a man who listens.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sweetie.” Sammy, sitting on his chair, crossed his ladylike legs. “It means I’ll be the new big cheese around here. Management and shareholders’ interests will be handled by me.” He scoffed, grooming his ginger hair to the side. “They say it was quite the hostile takeover.”

I was confused, moreso after he explained it to me. As far as I was aware, he was perfectly content handling the ins and outs of his resort venture. There wasn’t a clear motive behind buying out the company and taking over as CEO and board chairman. At least, none from my lowly employee point of view. Only two possible answers came to mind: money and Wes. But knowing he was soon going to be in charge of my paychecks, I didn’t want to pry any more than I needed to. I was unwittingly treading on a minefield and found myself voiceless. Choked to the bone.

There was an air of silence that hung over our heads for a solid minute. We only glanced at one another, hopping from face to face, awaiting some sort of reply to break through the concrete tension. 

Then Wes cleared his throat. “Anyway, uh. Dory, you can bring Jeremy to my office with you later at one in the afternoon. Just make sure to tell him that he can’t be in the room to— to watch me eat my fill. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and I think the printer’s out of paper again. Do you mind? The back room should have some,” Wes continued, ignoring Sammy mindlessly groping his arm.

I looked at the coffees on the counter, getting colder by the second. “But, Wes, I—“

Wes sighed, an air of disappointment flowing from his mouth. “Fine. Go, deliver your coffee.” 

I couldn’t have left the pantry any faster. The coffee cups nearly spilled onto my fingers as I closed the door behind me in my hurry.

When I turned on my heels, I noticed that Marcus’ computer was already logged in, and his satchel was hanging on the divider where he normally placed it, but he was nowhere to be found. I asked the woman next to him if she knew where he was. 

There was no need for me to talk to him, but something told me that I wanted to. It was a strange thought that entered its way into my consciousness. Ever since I’d slept over at Lisa’s, a myriad of foreign thoughts were bubbling up in my mind, telling me things I wasn’t used to thinking of; it was a creeping void that was slowly overtaking and seeping into the wrinkles of my brain. When I remembered that Marcus and Wes both displayed the same mental tampering, I pegged it as a side-effect of Lisa’s own power. Knowing her own sleepy-eyed subconscious was telling her that she craved Marcus’ presence at her side in bed in the mornings, it made perfect sense to me why I went out of my way to ask for him. 

Regardless, none of the people around his cubicle seemed to know where he was. I headed back to my own desk before someone called me out for loitering. 

I handed Jeremy his coffee, and he thanked me with a smile. The two of us quickly got to work, aiming to finish our assigned tasks and document routing before noon, because we had a meeting to attend—a private one, in Wes’ office. 

It was an hour before lunch when I heard that fast-paced walking, approaching me from down the hall. “Fuck, why is it so cold in here?” Marcus’ voice came, shivering violently.

Jeremy did his best to ignore it, pounding away at his keyboard like a madman. “Not now,” he muttered.

Marcus came around the corner and poised himself against the divider to my right, propping himself up with his elbow. “Hey! What’re you guys up to?” he asked, playfully. There was a cheeky grin on his face that I wanted to wipe off. Not because it was ugly, no, nothing about him was even remotely unattractive. He was just so distracting. I couldn’t stop glancing at him in my peripheral vision: those charming dimples, his well-styled blonde hair, bright brown eyes, and perky nipples. Then I caught myself. Perky nipples?  Why could I see them so clearly through his shirt?

“Whoa, hey, who are you?” he asked me. “Am I in the wrong cubicle?”

I examined his outfit more closely. From afar, I would’ve guessed he was wearing a dark red collared shirt with skintight denim jeans. Only, as I looked closer, I realized that it wasn’t just his pants that clung to his skin—it was everything. And it wasn’t because he’d grown since the last time I saw him. For some reason, there wasn’t a single wrinkle in his clothes or place where they hung loose. Every cut and bump in his minimally muscled form was perfectly visible; if I reached out my hand, I imagined I would’ve touched his cold, raw skin. In fact, there was even a faint gloss. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed—

“Hey, wait a minute—“ he said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

—His clothes were painted on. “Hey, Marcus,” I said, struggling to contain my confused excitement from being inches away from a near-naked Marcus.

He, however, did not share the sentiment. His eyes narrowed as he stepped back to scan me from head to toe. “Dory?!” he exclaimed, pulling his eyebrows to his hairline. “How did you—“

Jeremy ignored the antics occurring next to him. Oh, how I envied his bliss. 

“It’s a long story,” I said. I heard Jeremy scoff behind me; it was the third time I’d used that excuse.

Marcus rattled his head in denial and pointed at me with a limp finger. “No, but— I thought you didn’t get hit by the meteor?” he whispered, gaze hopping from mine to Jeremy’s, trying to avoid getting heard.

I patted him on the chest to test my theory, copping a feel of his cold, bare chest on my palm. I was right. His ‘clothes’ were air-brushed. There was subtle muscle there, but it was rock-hard, even unflexed. Or maybe he was just permanently flexed. I didn’t know. “Well, I did, I guess,” I said. “Also, don’t worry about mentioning the meteors in front of Jeremy. I already explained everything when I came to visit.”

“I can’t believe it…” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “When did it happen? How does it work?”

There was no way in hell I was ever going to bring up Lisa’s existence. “Even I don’t know. It just— happened overnight.”

I heard a shuffling behind me, realizing Jeremy knew what I meant. I hoped he lacked the common sense and basic deduction to connect the dots, and, whether it was good or bad, he stayed silent, faking a cough so blatantly obvious. He knew where I slept that night; I told him as much. 

“No way.” Marcus hooked his hand under my arm and lifted me up, straining to carry me off my seat. “Stand up! I want to compare heights.” He was grunting so desperately; I sighed, propping myself on my two feet.

When I stood at my tallest, I was bombarded with a wash of guilt and shame, seeing Marcus’ have to tilt his neck for the first time to look up at me. It was surreal. I was looking down at my former superior. We’d switched heights, and I finally understood what it felt like to step in his shoes and to bend my neck just to see me eye-to-eye. 

There was a horror in his eyes that couldn’t be masked, the faintest quiver at the edge of his eyelids. “No way you’re taller than me, man. This can’t be real.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just an inch off your original height.”

He lowered his head, swaying to the side as he dragged his feet behind me. “But— why did I stop growing? What’s going on…?” he muttered, fiddling with the meteorite necklace around his chest. 

It hurt to lie, seeing a beam of sunshine like Marcus look so defeated. A small part of me told me to tell him the truth, to take off the necklace, not be some scrawny fuck who had to paint on his clothes to garner some attention, some hard-craved validation. “Maybe your body’s just waiting for the right time?” I asked, hoping to be of some consolation. “If it helps… I think you look pretty good in a thong. The body paint could use some work though.”

He scoffed, smiling wretchedly at me. “You noticed? Thanks, I guess. I would’ve put more effort into it, but I’ve been pretty sore lately. I can barely move my arms and legs.” He was doing his best to flex his forearms, with his elbows glued to his sides. “I’ve been going to the gym every day for the past two weeks, but nothing’s working. I just feel like shit.” He groaned. “I’ve even been taking these new hormone shots on the black market. But nada.”

“You don’t look like shit to me. If I knew I would’ve had your body now if I just went to the gym, I would’ve joined your workouts months ago. You look good as hell, Marcus. Even if you don’t think so.”

A faint smile, an authentic one, popped on his face for a second. “You really think so?” he asked, growing more confident. “Would you swipe right on Grindr if you saw”—he gestured toward his emboldened chest and clear-cut six-pack—“a body shot like this?”

I nodded without hesitation. “Even if you weren’t as handsome as you are now and had a cock the size of a crayon, it’d still be a hard yes for me.”

He smiled, gentle as an appeased king. “That’s… kind of reassuring, Dor’,” he said. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one I can trust around here.”

It stung to hear him confess, because I knew I didn’t deserve it. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Wait,” Jeremy said, spinning around to face us. “So why’d you come to the office dressed in body paint anyway?”

“Because I wanted to see who would notice. You can’t really see my mistakes when you aren’t looking at me.” Marcus sighed, turning to me. “Only you actually asked me about it though. I guess you’re the only one who checks me out now. And to think I shaved my whole body over the weekend for nothing.”

I smiled back. “As far as jokes go though, this is probably your worst yet. How are you going to get home if it starts raining?”

“That’s a problem for future Marcus,” he said, dismissively. “Anyway, have you talked to Lisa about the whole break-up thing? Maybe you’ve convinced her to… call it off?”

Jeremy spoke before I could. “Yeah, sorry, no, buddy. She said she needed some time away from you for a while. Probably forever. Also told me to tell you that it’d be good if you started looking again. Just— not in her direction.”

Marcus scowled, glaring at Jeremy who remained deadpan in his seat. “And why the fuck is she talking to you? She’s still my—“

“She’s your ex. She’s not your anything anymore. I’m sorry, Marcus, but she’s done with you.”

The guy looked ready to explode. His face was contorting in reddened wrinkles as his mouth wriggled in muted bloody murder. I could see it in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to find the words to say. He wanted to throw fists. But I knew Marcus, and I knew Jeremy—and I knew Marcus was incapable of pushing through with any make-believe threats. At least, not drunk. Jeremy though? I wasn’t so sure. There was also the seven-inch height advantage. 

Instead, Marcus glanced at me, self-pity a black hole in his eyes, and stormed off. “Fuck you,” he muttered to no one, leaving no room for reply, never looking back as he returned to his cubicle.

There was a smug look of self-pleasure on Jeremy’s face that he seemed naturally drawn to wearing. It invited violence. “What happened to the nice and polite Jeremy from last week?” I asked.

With a sigh, the emotion washed off his face, replacing his gentle smile like a professional actor. “Too much?” he asked. “I guess I got carried away. Something about that guy just… rubs me the wrong way. Lisa thinks so too.”

“You mentioned Lisa like ten times in the past five minutes. How much did you two talk while Froy and I were— Did you push through with that coffee date?” I asked.

Jeremy winked at me and spun back to his computer, smiling wryly. “Guess we just clicked better than she did with him. It’s a go on Wednesday at the cute coffee jazz bar next to Steak Streak after work. You can tag along if you’d like.”

I sat back down and resumed my own progress. “Sure. I’ll ask Froy if he’s free.” Met with a scoff and a sarcastic ‘Sure,’ I said nothing in return, and we both wrapped up our morning workloads before noon with time to spare. 

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  • scarletic changed the title to Hard at Work [Part 12a added - June 6, '21]

I'm loving where this is going! 

I hope all of the guys grow, especially my man Marcus! He deserves to get to his old big size (or more)  

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Great new chapter. Jeremy with Lisa huh? I think Jeremy might get some growth...

Very excited for next chapter testing out the new pills with Wes. Time for the big boss to grow some more! Hopefully Dory’s bigger size means bigger loads for Wes to slurp up!

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Lisa's power can really bring a big turn to the story, curious where the story will go. and what Avery can do.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Hey, the update’s coming this weekend. 😁 I also chose to discard the part following this week’s, so there may be some delay depending on how fast I can write the replacement. It’s not canon anymore, but I can still post the cancelled part here if it’s requested.

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Take your time ~ any post you make will always be loved by your readers. Feel free to post whatever you want as well :)

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Please make Dory grow too!
Just wonder what's will happened when the man who always taking care of growing men also grow--or even bigger than anyone!

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  • scarletic changed the title to Hard at Work [NOT Part 13 added - July 24, '21]

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