Popular Post scarletic Posted June 20, 2021 Author Popular Post Share Posted June 20, 2021 PART 12b “Promise me you won’t be surprised when you see him.” My hand was firmly gripping the handle to Wes’ office. “After seeing what happened to my brother? Knowing you two have been fucking while I was rotting away in a cell? Bold of you to assume anything that goes on in this office is still capable of shocking me.” He scoffed. “I’m starting to think the prison shankings were less surprising.” I was still hesitant to let Jeremy see it happen, even if he didn’t need to see how it worked. How Wes grew. He had such a pointed curiosity in the way he stared at me. It was intense. Then again, the entire office had pretty much seen the three of them shrink and grow, as if some god were playing with their body sliders and had a bit too much to drink. No one really seemed to mind anymore. I’d even put money on the possibility of an underground betting ring, just to see who would go up or down a shirt size next. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been any harm. Jeremy was only one person after all. “Alright. I’ll let you see him now before it happens, just so you know I’m not lying. Then I’ll bring you in when it’s about to start. Agreed?” Jeremy nodded, apprehensively, and strutted over to Marcus’ vacant cubicle nearby. “Nah. You know what? Go do what you need to do to make the magic happen. I’ll be right here when the show’s about to start.” “If you say so.” I bowed my head and slunk into Wes’ office, careful to close the door behind me. The lights were off again. It was cold. Silent. For a moment, I thought he’d backed out of the experiment and fled. But that was a stupid idea. He wouldn’t turn this down for the world. Then the lights came to life. “You know, we’ve got to stop meeting like this, Mr. Yale,” he said, slowly, in a light-hearted attempt at a joke. With heavy sexual implications. Wes was sitting in his leather chair with a leg crossed over the other, his arms on the rests, laid back, self-assured in the power his mere presence emitted. He ended his smirk and stood up to his full height and walked over to me. I didn’t bother looking at where his arm was going—I was too distracted by his chiseled face, lit up from above by a faint orange glow from the display case—but I heard the door lock click behind me. “I thought you said you’d bring Adamson with you? Or is he not a fan of threesomes?” he asked. “He’s outside. And straight. And, putting myself in his shoes, frankly, I’m not really sure I’d be very interested in seeing my new co-worker get sucked off by my boss like it was another Wednesday afternoon of tea.” Wes tilted his head, feigning ingenuity. “It’s Monday.” “You know what I mean.” He waved me off and walked over back to his desk. “Do I?” A sly grin spread on his face. “Come over here. And bring out the pills. I want to see them for myself.” I did as told and pulled them out of my shirt pocket. Four little white ovals. I was staring at them, reminded of everything that had happened in the course of a month. Surreal was putting it lightly. Wes was ogling them as well. There was a red speck of lust deep in the pools of his black eyes, wet with desire. “They look so… accurate.” He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.” “Can’t do a lot with a degree in Chemistry outside of the lab, but it has its uses.” “You really should’ve applied for the R&D department. Not Human Resources. Sammy would’ve found good use for you there; you’d probably even be higher on the hierarchy than I am. But that spilled milk’s gone bad, hasn’t it?” He then bounded upwards, marching over and kneeling on one knee in front of me, smiling as he unbuckled my pants and took off his own button-down. “Now relax.” Once he got me cold and exposed, he handed me the pills on the edge of my lips, close enough for me to lick them off his hand. Like he wanted me to. “I won’t say please.” They glided down my throat like any other candy. It took a minute for them to settle in. Then, that familiar warm sensation rippled like a heatwave of Elysium from my stomach to my limbs, to my neck, to my groin. Every trembling pulse caused my balls to warm and sag, incrementally heavier than seconds before, draining the cold from the rest of my body. One swift motion later and the necklace on his neck was placed on the desk. He licked his lips and plunged his wet mouth onto my erection like a dog. I stared at him. His glossy, styled hair reflected the faint glow of the office lights overhead. The implications of what we were doing caused me to stir. Uncomfortably so. Just how often would we be doing this? Was it going to be a routine? Would I ever be allowed to end it? Would I even want it to end? Wes’ eager eyes as he salivated at the mere sight of my encroaching erection instilled fear in my heart, yet that desire, that yearning for me—me!—aroused me just the same. Being wanted was something I didn’t know would be such a refreshing breath of air. When I released my load, it was heavier than before. Wes’ mouth around my throat was that ever-familiar vacuum, pumping out every cent’s worth of his money from my body. I thought myself a whore for a moment, paid for pleasure. An infinite fountain of potential size. Had he not offered to pay, I wasn’t sure if that would’ve made the situation any better. I would’ve been a slave. I would have still said yes. Another blowjob meant another bout of growth. He wiped his mouth clean as he stood up, careful to lick his hand of any residue that he missed. Wes exhaled sharply and stretched his arms to the side. There was creaking in the fabric covering his torso. The buttons were straining to cover his broad self—and this was before any growth. “That tasted good,” he said, licking his beaming lips. “Compliments to the chef. What’d you have for lunch?” I pulled up my pants and fastened them with the belt. “A slice of Hawaiian pizza and some coffee.” I motioned with my hand for him to stay put as I headed to the door. “Now don’t start tearing out of your clothes without me. Jeremy wants to see it happen.” Wes leaned against his desk, facing his pulsating body towards the sky, arms stretched out, gripping tightly onto the wooden surface. His face pointed to the ceiling, eyes shut in concentration. The veins under his skin were making themselves known, protruding in a tensed flex that strained every inch of his muscles. After unbuttoning the top three buttons on his shirt, the hardened pecs that revealed themselves resembled a canyon between two mountains. They were hairless on his brown skin, and rippling with striations despite the layer of chub his body wore, adding extra dimension to his already formidable physique. He groaned, loudly, wanting me to hear it. “Go! I’m holding it in as best I can, but my body’s— my body is aching from forcing it down.” No time to waste; I left the office and rushed over to Marcus’ cubicle where Jeremy was waiting. “Let’s go. Show’s about to start.” I plucked his hand and dragged him over—but not before noticing the fresh ceramic mug of coffee on Marcus’ desk. “Is Marcus here?” Jeremy firmed his lips into a line. “No. I just thought I’d get him a coffee. I think I was a bit too harsh on him this morning. Thought this would make it up to him, since I know you’re friends and all.” “How sweet of you,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes. Then I rushed him over to Wes’ office without another word. “Now come on. You wanted real proof. I’m going to give you real proof.” The door opened and welcomed us inside. Jeremy followed, apprehensively. “Look, I’m having second thoughts about—“ He never finished his sentence. His eyes were dead wide as he gawked, slack-jawed at the enormous man in front of him, leaning against the desk. “Uh…” he mumbled. “Is that you, Mr. Smith? I could’ve sworn he was—“ I slammed the door shut behind him and patted him on the back. “Smaller? He used to be shorter than I was.” Wes groaned, breathing out his nose, slowly, as if he were releasing pent-up steam. “And I think I’m about to get even bigger...” Jeremy didn’t know what to focus on. His eyes were jumping between me and Wes. “But… you’re already taller than me. How much— how did— how is this happening?” I scoffed. “Save your Q&A for after the show.” Wes grunted, and there was a brief moment where his chest surged by the tiniest bit. “Alright. I’m letting go—oh, fuck…” His voice trailed off, melting into a raspy moan. Before our eyes, Wes’ stretched-out form began to thicken and expand outwards. It was noticeably pronounced. The twin peaks in his chest were pulling apart the shirt, rising from his ribcage like loaves of bread. His arms lengthened and so did his legs; they slowly bent at the joints until they forced his hands and feet to slide further away from his center to accommodate his expanding width. The minimal movement he made did nothing to hide the layers of muscle that were gradually causing his upper arms with their burgeoning triceps and his thighs to strain the tough fabric endeavoring to contain it all within. Wes’ growth had started off with a bang. In a matter of minutes, no more than two, he was already pouring out of his office clothes—apparel that had been struggling to make room for him all morning. He could barely move in the pantry. Now, he was constricted to the point of suffocation. Buttons were popping off; zippers were breaking. There was no choice but to tear through his poor rags. Again. Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off our growing manager as he continued to rise even further, his neat head of hair distancing itself from Jeremy’s eye level, inching closer and closer to the ceiling. “Holy hell,” he said, with a gulp. But it wasn’t done yet. Wes’ thick midsection burst out of the dress shirt, its buttons ricocheting off his muscle gut, leaving his torso exposed to the cold air as the rags fell to his sides. Not much longer, his arms did the same and tore his sleeves open. And all it took was a single flex. “Oh, fuck. I can’t believe this is really happening,” Wes said, almost too low to hear. His grin was the only indicator that he was still with us; his shut eyes and blissful face were lost in euphoria. And just as his button-down gave way, so did his pants, starting with his waistline. His widening midsection pried its way out of his belt, causing the buckle to crack with a pop. The button popped onto the carpet, and his crisp-white briefs poured out of their enclosure. The fat head of his cock was poking out from the cotton, seemingly clawing its way out of Wes’ underwear and creeping towards us. It was gargantuan, easily a foot long. Together with his gut, he was expanding in every direction: upwards, outwards, and forwards. Still, he grew even taller, higher and higher—so close to the ceiling—wider and wider, no inch left unchanged. He raised his stupidly big arms, almost round in size from his swollen biceps and triceps, in a double flex as his pants burst into a flurry of rags, unable to squeeze his stone-hard quads underneath. The hems, glued to his mid-calves, were all that remained of his gray khakis. “Fuck! I’ve never felt so strong and alive before,” he said. It wasn’t lost on us just how small a linebacker would’ve looked next to him now. Jeremy was taken aback. He pressed himself against the door in terrified awe at the enormity of the man before him. Wes was shorter than him when they interviewed by three inches. This morning, Wes was taller—and significantly bigger. Now, in his office, he had grown larger still. He was incrementally becoming a titanic slab of meat. The layers of fat surrounding his musculature had only increased further; this was largely due to the fact that he kept eating enormous amounts of food despite not needing to. It was all to satisfy his hunger when he was wearing the necklace, he said. He’d never grown so much from one session before. It was unbelievable how high his eye level was compared to mine now, even compared to Jeremy’s. A body like his was in no way achievable by any normal man. Not without any issues. If there could have still been doubt that Froy weighed almost a half-ton, there was no doubt that Wes was definitely around that range—and he wasn’t nearly as tall. Jeremy and I approached our boss, who was sitting at the edge of his desk, soaking his newly enhanced torso in the overhead lights. He was panting. As if he’d just run a marathon. Without looking at me, he moaned the words: “Get the tape measure.” And I did. Jeremy didn’t have any idea what was going on, even with all the explaining I’d done and the demonstration he was so eager to witness. But he cooperated anyway. Together, the two of us (with the help of the guest chair) measured his new height. Jeremy was speechless as he stared at where the tape ended. “Jesus. It says 6’8”,” he announced, staring at me. Wes then raised his right arm to an insane flex and pressed its peak against Jeremy. “Now the arms.” “27 inches. Wow… sir.” With a mighty wink, Wes raised both his arms as close as he could to the ceiling. The tips of his fingers almost tapped the gypsum boards overhead. “God, I can almost touch the ceiling again!” He turned to Jeremy and patted him on the shoulder. “Ever meet anyone like me in prison? Bet you’ve never seen an Asian man this big up close before, huh?” I couldn’t affirm—though the only bigger Asian man I’d seen… was still Wes, back when he was out of control. This time was not a repeat. Wes pulled the rest of the rags off his body and walked back over to his windowed wall, dressed in nothing but his underwear, showing off his obscene bulge to the rest of the world from twenty stories high. We were on the 19th floor. He posed like a man who knew what he had, and knew what he still stood to gain. Hands on his hips, neck proudly raised, and mosaic back facing towards us. “So did you enjoy the show?” he asked. It was a question not intended for me. Jeremy gulped. “It was a rhetorical question, Adamson. Fuck, I can’t believe I waited this long to experience what Marcus had for so long. Is there anything better than watching me grow, Dory?” “Is that… also rhetorical or—“ Wes sighed and groped his fat cock. “Yes, it is. You two may go. And don’t forget to be here for my birthday this Friday. I expect a gift from both of you.” He looked over his shoulder and pierced through my skull with his sharp eyes. “If you’re early, I might even put on another show for you. I’ve got a surprise of my own with your name on it.” We both nodded and promptly took our leave, allowing Wes to relish in his glory alone. I knew I would have to get him new clothes again. It was a given by now. Thankfully, I knew a tailor. It was unfortunate we couldn’t afford the same luxury for Froy since Wes was paying for his new clothes out of his own pocket. It was ironic, considering Froy studied at the most exclusive university around. “What the fuck happened in there?” Jeremy asked in a stunted whisper, eyes glazed, staring at something, unfocused, scanning the office for something to anchor him in reality. I bit my tongue and smiled. “You wanted proof, remember? Do you believe me about the meteors now?” Jeremy walked ahead of me, dragging his feet across the carpeted floor. He shook his head, staring at the leather of his shoes. “Jesus Christ. I didn’t— Holy fuck.” He snorted. “Am I going insane? Is this early on-set dementia?” “You wish.” I patted him on the back. “Look, I know it’s a lot to unpack. Why don’t you head back? I’ll get you a cup of water from the pantry so you don’t faint on the clock.” “I doubt that’d help much, but sure. It’s just… impossible to wrap my head around right now. Like, why hasn’t there been any news about it? NASA should’ve said something by now, right?” That same question had been bothering me since the beginning as well. Was it possible they were unaware? Were they keeping it secret? Did something happen to NASA or whatever government agency was handling extra-terrestrial shit like this? Did Area 51 even have a hotline? “I’d think so too. But I’ve been keeping track of the news since the beginning of this mess, and there hasn’t been a whisper about them. The closest thing I got to any confirmation that this was real was when a shipment of mega-fishes were put on TV in a giant sushi ad for some Japanese place downtown. Froy and I saw them up close, so we know that much was true.” “It even works on fish?” Jeremy asked, eyeing me with worry. “And plants. But I think it doesn’t work on them as well as humans. They died within a week for some reason.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “Thankfully, nothing’s happened to anyone hit by the meteors. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. You’d think that all the shrinking and growing would cause their skin and bones to break or something, but— nothing.” Jeremy rubbed his temples and scoffed. “This is just too much to wrap my head around right now. I’ll go ahead and get back to work. Thanks for getting some water for me. I really, really appreciate it.” I waved him goodbye as we parted ways. “No problem, partner,” I said. On the way to the pantry, the questions I’d once buried were resurfacing with newfound vigor thanks to Jeremy’s curiosity. The existence of the meteors was still something I never understood. Their origin, their purpose, the reason they seemed to gravitate towards my co-workers—all of them were still empty holes I hadn’t found the answers to yet, only square pegs that didn’t quite fit where they needed to. I’d never heard of meteors having slime in them. Much less, slime that changed the bodies and brains of anyone it got into contact with. It was a few minutes till the end of our lunch break when I neared the pantry. As I approached the door, lost in my thoughts, I collided with a crowd of people I didn’t realize had formed. I wasn’t sure what caused so many of my officemates to gather around such a small room, enough to spill out onto the walkways. It was a silent commotion. Everyone was whispering or staring in awe at something out of my vision. It definitely wasn’t the coffee machine, I knew that much. And the water cooler didn’t have any telltale signs of Marcus’ tampering. Thankfully, being taller had its advantages. Standing on my tip-toes, I peered over everyone’s heads to see what it was garnering so much attention inside. When I found out, I was frozen. My eyes were glued, and we shared glances. It was Froy, standing head and shoulders over the rest of us layfolk. He grinned unabashedly wide at the sight of me, showing off his pearly white teeth, and waved with a free hand. I could only see the top of his torso, but even from my vantage point, I understood what Jeremy’d meant by wardrobe malfunctions. It dawned on me that I’d never actually seen him clothed at this size before. He was always nude. Nothing was going to fit him anymore; no one made clothes for a man of his stature, especially if they were only sized up proportionally. Nothing about Froy’s body was ‘proportionate’ to an average man anymore. His muscles were enlarged to the point of comic fiction—yet he remained symmetrically lean. He was wearing a red polo shirt that clung onto him desperately, burying its fabric into the crevices and valleys forming at his chest and arms. The sleeves managed to cover his shoulders, but the slightest movement forced them to ride upwards. None of the buttons on the collar were even remotely capable of being closed. The canyon dividing his tits was poking out of the V-neck, casting a shadow large enough to fit a cup. Froy even styled his hair; the shaved sides were similar to Jeremy’s, and I figured it was their mother’s doing. Still, he kept his fluffy black hair spiky and combed upwards. When I waded through the lake of people to get to him, I discovered the real reason everyone had crowded around him. And it wasn’t because of him. The kid had brought four boxes of glazed doughnuts to the office. There was a sticky note on one of the empty ones, crumpled up, discarded and ignored: “Sorry for ruining the retreat for everyone. Please enjoy the doughnuts. - Froy Adamson” I smiled reading it and pushed through towards him. Face-to-chest with him again, I skimmed through the rest of his outfit and sniggered at the fact that his polo shirt wasn’t even long enough to reach his belt line. Two or three inches worth of abs and his hairless Adonis’ belt were visible to everyone. And unlike Marcus who needed body paint to create the clinging fabric effect, Froy’s immense torso did it naturally, forcing the poor shirt to its breaking point if he so much as breathed too hard. The garter on his sleeves was already stretched out. His khaki capris didn’t fit him well either. They were a third of the way up his ankles, showing off his bare feet leading to his undersized boat shoes. Not to mention that ridiculous bulge on his crotch. “Hey! Glad you’re back among the living,” I said, punching him in the stomach. As if it had any effect. “Sorry for being late, sir. I had a few problems with the new clothes.” He twisted to the side and pointed to the underside of his armpit where a stitch ran down to the hem. “My mom had to sew the shirt on me since I couldn’t fit in it properly. She also gave me a haircut.” “The haircut suits you. Not so much the shirt though. I think I prefer you nude.” He grinned again, picking me up and kissing me in front of the crowd of people. They could only glance at us as they downed their doughnuts. There were a few remarks. Some wondered what happened at the resort, while others were more focused on what happened to the heartthrob intern to make him grow so much. There were even the few gym-goers and middle-aged ladies in accounting who asked him to flex so they could cop a feel; it was a no-brainer when someone like Froy was within range. No one was eye level with him anymore. Looking up, Froy’s adorably handsome face was the first thing we could all see. He had to bend down just a little bit to avoid his head pushing through the false ceiling. “It was sweet of you to buy doughnuts,” I said, nuzzling our noses together, him still holding me up. Then he embraced me. “I just hope it was enough. I know everyone was really excited for the retreat.” He sighed down my back, staring at the last few doughnuts. “I don’t even think they plan on leaving any for me.” I kissed him on the neck and tapped him on the shoulder, motioning for him to put me down. “Please. You don’t even need to eat.” I squeezed his visible nipple, firm from the office cold under his shirt. “Besides, I’m the only hole you need. And I do love your filling.” He blushed, slouching and trying to hide his embarrassment, grumbling, not knowing how to react. All he could do was fiddle with his fingers. I did what I came to do: got a cold cup of water for Jeremy, and headed back to my desk with Froy in tow. People were gawking at him as we passed by. And one look on his face told me he was enjoying it. Jeremy thanked me for the water and pursed his lips as his eyes were inexplicably drawn to the man who was his little brother only a month ago. A little growing up went a long way in Froy’s case. “Hey,” Jeremy said, sliding his chair to the furthest corner of his desk away from us. “Uh, hi…” Froy did the same, with the reinforced conference chair he was given, staying as far away from his brother as possible. This left me with just enough space between the two idiots. And for the rest of the afternoon, I was their in-between, their messenger, as if I were some middleman in a petty lovers’ quarrel. Whenever they found themselves needing to tell the other something about work, they went through me. It was fine for the first hour since Froy was doing all my work without question (though he did have some difficulty navigating the significantly smaller keyboard). It occured to me that a small service fee wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. But they were friends—and, in a way, my brothers too. I humored them for the rest of the workday until it was time to clock out. Of course, with Froy back, I had more free time than I knew what to do with—again. I whipped out my phone and got to work on my side gig, i.e. documenting the effects of the meteor in an attempt to make sense of the nonsensical. From one spreadsheet to another, my head ached at the thought of it. But, if I were to note everything down, it was a necessary evil. Of the two meteors, the only known victims were Wes, Marcus, Froy, Avery, and Lisa. Wes and Marcus got hit by both, while everyone else only once. All were exhibiting losses of hunger and appetite, as well as any need to release bodily wastes. Were they even breathing oxygen anymore? I didn’t know. But as far as I was aware, air supply was the only thing they needed to worry about. Food was a non-issue. It was also important to note that the meteors seemed to affect everyone it hit differently. There was nothing consistent about their effects, except for the fact that it wanted men, specifically, to increase in height and muscle. Their minds were molded to think as such, and to crave it more than anything. As for the victims, I had no data on Avery. Lisa and Froy, who were only hit by one, didn’t seem to display any other ability to grow besides what I already knew: Lisa could grow any man she touched, and Froy could drain others of their size. Wes and Marcus were hit by both the green and purple meteors but only exhibited one capacity to grow—so far, anyway. Marcus’ growth happened passively over time, while Wes’ only worked on the condition that he ate someone’s cum. Whether the second had any additional changes to them or not, I had no idea. It might’ve just been a placebo, or it might’ve evolved the first. At this point, both Wes’ and Marcus’ potential second abilities, if any, were unknown. And Avery’s, of course, but I can’t talk about him. The sun was only starting to set when the rain started coming down. And it was pouring hard. It was difficult seeing a few feet through the windows, because the rainfall could’ve been mistaken for the sky falling. Our view of the city skyline was gone—replaced by a gray smog and the sound of jackhammers to punctuate the end of our workday. People clocked out early to avoid the inevitable traffic jam. Not wanting to come home drenched, Jeremy and Froy did the same. The two brothers readied to leave when I remembered to ask Froy, “hey, are you free on Wednesday night? Jeremy asked me to join him on a double date.” Both looked at me with furrowed eyes, and I wondered if I’d said something wrong. Jeremy was the first to speak up. “You don’t have to, Froy.” It was heavy on my heart when Froy turned to me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, sir, but I promised my mother that I’d help her rearrange the furniture around the house this week.” And I thought that was that; he normally wouldn’t have said anything more—but he did. “If you want, we could… still go on a date next week? Just us two.” “I’d like that,” I said. Jeremy threw his satchel over his shoulder as his computer powered down. “It’s settled then. Though you’re still welcome to join us,” he directed to me. “Now come on, tyke. We can’t miss the train. The commute’s going to be hell. Especially when you need a whole car to yourself.” The two brothers then made their way out of the office, not stopping to hold their breaths, but not before Froy gave me a quick kiss. Another hour passed in the office without them. I didn’t need to leave yet since I lived within walking distance—and I may or may not have forgotten to bring an umbrella. My work was done, so I had time to walk around at my leisure and catch up with some co-workers I hadn’t spoken to in weeks. It was alienating to try and regain my old life before the meteor incidents took precedence. Wes, in his new emergency duds, snuck out through the fire escape to avoid being seen by too many people when he wasn’t feeling very proud wearing sweat clothes around the office. The top of his head scraped the doorway as he left, something he wasn’t very used to doing before. This was the largest he’d ever been without the false memories getting in the way. And his excitement proved that this was the first time he’d ever truly experienced this newfound size. He confessed to having masturbated around five times after his growth spurt with his reflection in the window. There was no doubt there would be more to come on the way home. The sun had set with the moon in its place, and the rain was settling down at last. Most of the office had cleared out by this point. Half the lights were off, and only a handful of computers were still on in the distance. I was ready to leave when I got a call—from Marcus. I picked it up without thought. “Hey, Dory, you still in the office?” he asked. The sound of the rain was violent on his end. “Yeah. Why? You looking for someone to finish your work for you again?” “No, man, not this time. You wouldn’t believe it: I was hanging out on the rooftop, just chillin’ with the plants, totally not day-drinking on the clock or anything, then this storm comes, and I’m stranded up here without an umbrella! The body paint’s also melted off, and I only got a connection now, so consider this my SOS.” He coughed. “I’m fucking freezing, wet, naked, and covered in this really bad paint.” I looked around and saw no one to eavesdrop. It was a skeleton crew left on the floor. “And I’m supposed to be your knight in shining armor, princess?” “Come on, Dor’. Fuck it, I’m coming down the fire stairs. Open the door for me, alright?” The call ended with the rusted metal door creaking open through the earpiece. By the time I stood up, thinking I would just head home and pay Marcus no mind, I hadn’t noticed I’d already grabbed a fresh hand towel and clean white shirt from my emergency kit. It was a good thing I kept one around—but I was starting to question why I had one in the first place. It’s not like I ever needed to use it. The last time I opened it was after Froy’s first day in the office. He got caught in the rain too. I had to replace it because he ended up tearing through my shirt. Marcus though was my old height. Perhaps the shirt wouldn’t need to be surgically removed this time. I was praying I wouldn’t have to start packing extra clothes for the rainy season, because no one knew how to deal with bad weather in the office. Me included. I opened the fire escape and let a drenched Marcus come inside. He wasn’t joking: the rain had soaked him head to toe. The body paint was left in smudges and dripping down his torso, and the only things he was wearing were the smallest beige thong and the meteorite necklace. He didn’t even have the energy to sneer at me. The towel was in his hands before I could protest, and he’d managed to defile the poor thing with the leftover paint in minutes. There was almost no visible trace of its original white cotton under the layers of rainbow vomit. Pushing his wavy hair back, he shivered and motioned for me to accompany him to the storage room nearby. “Thanks for the towel. I’ll buy you a new one, I promise,” he said. “You’d better. Or I’ll start charging you for daily interest.” He looked at me over his shoulder with a smug grin; it was weak from his damaged confidence, but his modelesque face held a naturally charming potency. “Is that how you treat all the straight men you crush on?” “If they’re idiots I have to take care of, then yes.” He blew raspberries and waved it off. “You’re not my mom.” I had to chuckle. “I might as well be.” The door closing was a vacuum that sealed the two of us in the confined space. In that moment, we were sharing the same oxygen, hearing the same things, and trying not to make a mess of things. He’d finally wiped off most of the rain and wet paint from his body, which left him essentially nude. The thick salami-shaped bulge protruding from his thong was almost comical; how he managed to hide such a thing under some cheap black paint was remarkable. Anyone could’ve groped it with a hand and might as well have been touching the real thing. It was six and a half inches long, soft. He smirked at me, towel in hand, and asked me to sit down on the nearby stool. “I don’t like looking up at you. It doesn’t feel right,” he said. Not wanting to damage his ego further, I complied. I handed him the plain white shirt, and he held it up to the light to examine it. “Medium, huh? Always took you for a small.” “Are you implying something?” I asked. “Because if you don’t like it, I could just go home and—“ “No, no! No. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear. I’m just… not used to wearing mediums. At least, not since I was in middle school. I’ve told you this before,”—he started rolling his shoulders—“I just got really broad-shouldered and couldn’t fit in mediums anymore.” He turned to face me and spread his legs, emphasizing just how intense his natural V-taper was. His bulge was loose and pointed at the floor. “You see what I see, right?” I had to gulp. The room was becoming a bit too hot for my tastes. Yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Marcus continued to examine his semi-nude self, pointing out all the parts that made wearing clothes difficult for a man of his physique. Even with his height and muscle drained, there was still some impressive power hidden in the way he flexed. The striations that were once buried under overbearing boulders of meat were evidently running down the lengths of his anatomy. Part of me wondered whether he knew what he was doing: flexing and absent-mindedly posing for a gay man. But another told me I was just another quick way to soothe his bruised confidence. He tossed the shirt around in his hands for a bit before stopping to furrow his brow. “Do you know something I don’t?” he asked, staring at me. I skipped a breath. “Nothing I haven’t already told someone else. Why? Something on your mind?” “It’s just,”—he fiddled with the necklace in one hand—“I don’t know. I feel like… you know something about the meteors that you aren’t telling me. Do you know why I haven’t been getting any taller? I saw Wes on my way to the rooftop, and he looked fucking immense. I just don’t get it. Why does he get to be big? I’m supposed to be the biggest around here. Not him. Not Froy.” He looked at me with mercy in his eyes, as if he were almost begging me to let him loose again. I knew how much he enjoyed being the alpha. But there were still so many dangers to account for. His growth spurts weren’t as predictable as Froy’s or Wes’. It was slow and happened over time. I knew that. It was safer in the long run to keep him in the dark as long as possible. Yet, as it so happened, I had a lapse of sanity. I gave in. Call it what it might have been: pity. Though I preferred sexual curiosity. I stood from the chair and approached him. “I know how much you want to grow.” Safe; I had to play it safe. “Why don’t you just put on the shirt for now?” I wrapped my hands around his neck and lifted the necklace over his head with the delicacy of a flower. “That should make things easier.” He sighed and nodded, meekly. “Alright.” Marcus was experienced with putting on clothes in a jiffy. Two blinks in, and he was donning my shirt like a second skin. Though it was only his shoulders and chest stretching the fabric. The lower half hung over his abs like a curtain. “How do I look?” “For a 5’7” guy? Pretty hot. If you had a belt to tuck that shirt in, you’d be irresistible.” Marcus smirked, punching me lightly in the shoulder. “And I’m not already because…?” I barely opened my mouth to speak when I noticed something happening. It was faint, but it was evident. The rain had soaked his skin to the point of desaturation, but under the yellow glow of the overhead lighting, the vibrancy of his tan seemed to be fading back in, almost as if his body were coming back to life. He’d been wearing the necklace for nearly three weeks now. I hadn’t even noticed how different he looked. He raised an eyebrow, squinting to pry whatever thoughts were spinning in my mind. “You clocked out or something? Earth to Dory?” But the changes didn’t stop there. As the rich beach glow returned to his tone, other parts of his body were catching up as well. It was subtle at first. His nipples plumped up, the valleys on his abs and pecs deepened, and whatever flab had gathered at his waist melted into his upper body. Within a few seconds, he’d regained the runway-worthy torso he once craved to have again. Marcus took notice of my ogling and realized what was happening. He breathed deep and started running his fingers across the tautness of his skin, flicking and squeezing the flesh of his abdomen and chest. “Oh, my god! Do you see this?!” he asked me. “I’m pinching myself. This can’t be real.” Oh, but it was. In a breath, his chest and traps filled out a smidge. And it didn’t stop there. I thought that taking off the necklace would’ve let him change slowly over time—but what was happening was the opposite. My mouth unhinged as I watched his transformation in awe. He was ecstatic. Marcus was shaking his hands and flexing his arms in a craze as he watched them steadily fill out with new muscle. He threw his head back in ecstasy as the growth quickened. Every breath he took left him marginally bigger than the last—and his breathing was erratic at best from the adrenaline. Soon, his upper arms were tugging at the sleeves of the shirt, and his full chest was put on display through the thick fabric. His upper body continued to widen and pack on the pounds as both of us remained speechless. I couldn’t believe what was happening; I didn’t want to. But one look at his bare legs told me it was all real. What were once thighs were embiggening into thick hams that were slowly pushing against the other, forcing him to stand at an angle. His feet lengthened and crept along the floor towards me, and his cock was straining his threadbare thing to its limits. In a single held breath, Marcus had grown an unbelievable amount before my very eyes. The model was long gone: though he didn’t grow any taller, his tight body was packed to bursting with strong muscles that jutted out in all the right places by at least a few inches. The peaks of his biceps and triceps tore through the sleeves of my borrowed shirt. His chest had bloated similar to Froy’s and tore down the collar to his midsection. My white shirt didn’t stand a chance—and I even made sure to get tougher material this time. With a hearty guffaw and a swift tug of his shirt, Marcus threw the remains over to the boxes in the corner, leaving him an almost-nude hunk of hairless mesomorphic muscle. “Holy fuck! Look at me! I didn’t think hobbits could get so buff,” he said. And he was right. He was easily almost double the width he was barely five minutes ago. Probably double the weight too. His arms and legs were covered in veins yet didn’t distract from the perfection of his marbled skin. “I’m sorry about the shirt, Dor’, but—come on! Just look at me! I haven’t felt this strong in weeks. I could probably punch a hole through the wall right now, man.” After tidying his wavy hair, he started flexing and posing for his devout audience of one. His hands ran across his newly-endowed muscles and relished in the way they plumped up into dramatic mountain ranges under his fingers. Both of us were insatiable; we couldn’t help but grow hot from his blatant self-worship. Then, just when my erection couldn’t have been any more painful, he winced. Not in pain: but pure, unadulterated pleasure. His eyes went manic as he grinned from ear-to-ear. “Holy fuuuck! I can feel it again! Watch me grow some more, Dory,” he exclaimed. And grow he did. His head rose from where he stood, inching closer and closer to my eye level. He couldn’t stop smiling as he watched his perspective creep higher and higher, from my lips to my nose to my eyes. Yet even with his body being stretched towards the ceiling, none of his muscle followed. In fact, his enormous slabs of beef only seemed to pump up even larger to compete with his elongating stature. When we were eye level, he pressed down on my shoulders and moaned. It took all the strength in my legs to keep from falling to the floor. He released one last spurt, and his body stabilized at last. We took one good long look at each other and were mesmerized at the results. Marcus was at least an inch taller than I was, maybe more. And he was easily double my weight in straight muscle. He took one step forward and his newly grown chest bumped against my flat one. His head was being eclipsed by his meaty neck, making him look bigger than he already was. Somehow, he’d managed to outgrow his previous muscle mass at the same height. If he kept growing at the same rate— —He would make his old self at the resort look downright anemic. And it aroused me. The knowledge that we both knew he was destined to become so much more got both of us painfully erect. I could tell as much. His foot-long had popped the thong clean off. Standing tall in his glory, Marcus pumped out both arms into a double bicep pose. There was still some doubt in his eyes. The change was so sudden; he hadn’t experienced anything like this in weeks. But I knew: it was as real as the thoughts in my head. As real as the rags on the floor, of my shirt, of his thong. Most importantly, it was as real as the fat head of his cock poking against mine. When my consciousness returned, I heard one of our co-workers yell outside: “Hey, time to close up, everybody! Rain’s gone.” Marcus sniggered. “It’s about fucking time.” 36 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spacevlad Posted June 20, 2021 Share Posted June 20, 2021 MMMMPH yes, so much GROWTH in this chapter. Wes’s scene was of course extremely hot (he’s getting SO damn big, fuck) and the revelation about Marcus was explosive and fun! Glad to see him size up again and experience some fast growth. Excellent work as usual! Also: I love how damn thick everyone is getting: insane dense heavyweight muscle, Wes’s bulky belly, Marcus’s thicker, heavier frame than last time, etc. Keep that going! 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Felix Posted June 21, 2021 Share Posted June 21, 2021 Yeees! Everyone is growing again! Hope to see them even bigger! 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted June 21, 2021 Share Posted June 21, 2021 Woot woot so much growth :) Also so much avery "how he got affected" vibes 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rorange Posted June 21, 2021 Share Posted June 21, 2021 a whim: will there be 3rd meteor? Just for Dory. since he already missed two and still finding the news about them, or what if the two meteors are actually come for Dory, but both failed lol. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Littlebro Posted June 21, 2021 Share Posted June 21, 2021 Hurray!!!marcus growth again!!! rain makes marcus growth?or water? froy can control wes and marcus?then froy would be giant! what is the effect of avery? dory at 5"10" is ok,i don't want him growth anymore. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spacevlad Posted July 1, 2021 Share Posted July 1, 2021 Just wanted to post and say i'm excited for the next couple chapters. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
scarletic Posted July 24, 2021 Author Share Posted July 24, 2021 Hey, everyone. I've been swamped with several things happening simultaneously, so I haven't been able to write the next canon part, especially since I'm not content with the way every draft is coming out. That said, here's the scrapped, unofficial Part 13. Again, nothing that happens in this part actually happens in the story. I also apologize if it's not the best. ---------- NOT Part 13 It was Wednesday, and I’d promised Jeremy I would accompany him to his coffee date with Lisa after work. Being a professional third wheel had its privileges. In all my years working at H&B, Blue Moon Coffee was the last place I was expecting to find myself. It was a hole-in-the-wall joint down the street, hidden up a flight of stairs adjacent to a Chinese restaurant on the bottom floor. I’d only ever heard stories from coworkers about what went on inside. For the most part, it was as unassuming as the name: black coffee blends served in a dimly-lit cafe, a bar where alcohol was present, and smooth jazz playing over the speakers. But I knew better. I’d heard of its secrets. It was a venue where black market transactions often took place; drugs, weapons, illegal tech—anything you can think of, and it was there. The barista employed a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. If you asked, well, you couldn’t exactly tell anyone anything with your tongue missing. But that’s unimportant. What’s important is that Jeremy decided to take us there. I didn’t even need to ask why that specific venue before Jeremy felt obliged to defend himself. It was a short walk from the office, so we headed over together, still in our white-collar outfits. “I’ve got friends who work there now,” he said. “They said they’d give me a discount if I ever stopped by since I did a lot of their dirty work before they got released.” He’d probably seen me shifting all day. “Don’t worry,” he added. “They’re not going to risk going back to that shithole again. Not when I’m around. You’ll be fine.” When we got there, Lisa was waiting in her car, taking a nap under a streetlight. Smart girl. Jeremy stopped us before we got too close; he asked me to help him tidy up. He wanted to look spiffy for his date. Being outshined by me was out of the question, he said; though I doubted then that I would’ve ever matched up to him in any universe. Not when he had Adamson blood flowing through his veins. He knocked on her window and waved her awake. With a loud groan audible, even through the glass, she powered down the engine and stepped out, the scarlet hem of her dress flowing out of the seat. Despite only being 5’2”, she held the posture of a model. The stilettos did her a number of favors as well. They made her look taller than she was. She looked exquisite, expensive, like she smelled of honeyed roses and marble mansions. Standing outside Blue Moon Coffee, she stuck out like a meteor in the sky. And I couldn’t take my eyes off her arm-length gloves, with a black purse hanging on her forearm, that covered the entirety of her hands. “Sorry if we kept you waiting, beautiful.” Jeremy lifted her hand for a kiss. “I hope the nap was good?” “Ah.” She pulled away instantly. “Sorry. Let’s not have any physical contact tonight. Alright?” she asked. His eyes darted momentarily before settling back onto her powdered face and smiled. “Yeah, yeah. No worries.” She nodded in gratitude. “Ugh.” Without any provocation, she jumped on her tiptoes and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. “That’s all you’re getting tonight. I’d do more, but…” The kiss left a red-hot mark on his cheek that fizzled out within seconds. I’d hoped it didn’t do anything—but the way his fingers jittered and pants shuffled, I knew that one kiss did more than either of us could’ve anticipated. Jeremy smiled bashfully, careful to avoid rubbing his coarse fingers over his cheek. “You would’ve done more?” he asked. Lisa snorted and punched him in the chest with her gloved hand. “Oh, shut up. Come on. Let’s get inside. You can lead the way, ‘big’ brother.” “As you wish, your Majesty.” She pulled me aside as we were entering and Jeremy rushed in headfirst to greet his old inmates. “Do you think the gloves are too much?” she asked in a whisper. “I wanted to look good for the date, but… I should’ve looked up what the place looked like first. Sheesh. I don’t want any of the men inside getting any ideas about who they’re fucking tonight.” I took off my black coat and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on. Jeremy can’t touch you, and no one’s going to know what’s under all this fluff.” She smiled and kissed her fingers, then pressed them against my cheek as she took my coat and slipped into it. A faux kiss. “Thanks. Froy’s lucky to have you.” The jacket almost looked too heavy on her. Thankfully, she was used to her own fair share of extra baggage. When we headed inside, it was a pleasant surprise: a waiter standing at the door attended to us and escorted us across the main area to a private room near the back. The venue was packed with people, and there wasn’t an empty seat in sight. Instead of replaying jazz on the speakers, they had a jazz duet performing on stage. The patrons didn’t look the type to be partaking in shady deals either, so I figured they were just there for the good coffee. And, damn, if it wasn’t some good coffee. The table was already set for us with a flower vase in the center, with three fresh roses, and three seats, all served with a still-steaming cup of aroma-thick café au lait. We were only separated from the main area by a sliding shutter, but the barista explained that it was essentially soundproof from the outside. “This is… a lot fancier than I expected, seeing it from the outside,” Lisa said. She was jittery in her seat, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Jeremy took a sip of his coffee. There was an irremovable grin on his face that was filled with satisfaction. “Appearances aren’t always everything, right?” Lisa swirled her spoon around in her cup. “How’d you even find a place like this?” “I know a guy. Multiple, actually. I’d introduce you, but… they’re with a client right now. Some bigwig. Apparently, he’s here for some big business. But that’s all work talk. What about you, how’d your day go?” Jeremy placed both forearms on the table, inching one closer to her hand. Lisa pulled her arms closer to her chest without an ounce of subtlety or hesitation. “My day was fine. Made good money today.” She chuckled, as she eyed her coffee that sparkled as if infused with diamonds. “And if this isn’t on the house, I might just end up spending it all here.” Jeremy leaned forward, ignoring my existence. “And what do you do, anyway? You told me back at my place that you made short films. But I don’t know how you make ‘good money’ working on indie shorts. Pardon my ignorance.” “Isn’t it obvious?” She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder nonchalantly, as if purely for show. “Am I not just the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen? You know there’s only one real way for people like me to make money these days.” His eyes lit up and his eyebrows leapt. “You do home porn?” he asked. I sensed no hostility in the way he spoke, no judgment, only raw curiosity. Lisa groaned. “Ask for the mic and tell the whole cafe, why don’t you? Yeah. I take nude videos and pictures. It’s something my ex and I used to do together before we broke up.” Then she smirked, looking out the window facing the brick wall of an alley. “Turns out I didn’t need him…”—and it faded—“I never did.” The three of us finished our coffees before Jeremy spoke up again. “Oh, and don’t worry about the tab. It’s all on the house for tonight.” With a silent mischief tacked onto her face, Lisa pulled out the menu from behind her and started glossing through it like a woman on a mission. She ended up ordering another café au lait, an Irish coffee, a tall glass of Rosé, and two straight black cups. Thankfully, she didn’t bankrupt the cafe—not that she could’ve, anyway; at least, not before her heart burst from the caffeine overdose. Jeremy didn’t mind her strange addiction to coffee. To him, it was probably just a quirk of hers. He hadn’t seen the way she could down cocktails like oxygen or chug wine straight from the bottle. It was what she had in common with Marcus apart from their similarly chiseled faces and wavy blonde hair: they were prone to addictions. They were susceptible to dependence. The date went smoothly for another two hours or so. Jeremy and Lisa talked about mundane things, keeping the conversation shallow. Although his prison sentence did get brought up at some point. Then again, it’s not like she cared. I’d told her enough about him and him enough about her to get them acquainted beforehand. She even joked while drinking one of her many, many cups of coffee that if things went well, the two of us might’ve ended up as siblings-in-law. It was a weight off my shoulders to see her so rejuvenated around Jeremy; she could actually hold eye contact with him and at times even tried holding his hand, only to remember they couldn’t touch. And she’d told me as much while he had gone to the toilet that she realized: they couldn’t touch—whether it was on the couch, in the car, at the movies, or even in bed. It didn’t matter. As long as she was with him, she couldn’t take off her gloves. Or anything at all. At around nine in the evening, Lisa stopped ordering for herself. Instead, Jeremy opted to fetch her a cocktail from the bar. I stood to follow him, just to make sure he didn’t try anything malicious, but Lisa pulled me back down. She wanted to talk about something in private. “You’d better not try to steal my date from me,” he joked as he closed the shutter wall. “Your brother fucks me in the ass, Jer.” When we were sure he was gone, we pulled ourselves closer within whispering range, our ears to the other’s mouth. “What is it?” I asked. Lisa groaned. “Do you think he’s a nice guy?” “Who, Jeremy?” She pressed her lips. “I want to know what you think about him. He’s your coworker, and you’re one of the only men I talk to nowadays.” The question caught me off-guard. “Well, uh, he’s not a bad guy. He helped me out with my workload even if he had no business doing them. He even lent me one of his books after I told him about the meteors. Plus he’s good-looking. And smart. He looks like a bookworm-turned-model with the computer skills of a sociopath.” She was hooked onto every word that left my mouth. There was even a glimmer of unhinged desire swimming in the pools of her eyes. “What about your boyfriend? Has he said anything about him?” He did. “Nah.” Froy told me not to trust him. But I had no reason to doubt Jeremy’s intentions, so I tacked it onto a sticky note and left it on the dark side of my brain. “Froy’s just been… adjusting to seeing his older brother around again. You know how they are. Boys.” Lisa sighed, staring at Jeremy ordering something at the bar. “Yeah. Boys.” Then she turned back to me. “So… I wanted to do something. But I wanted your advice first since you’re an expert on this kind of thing. Since he’s been so nice to me and all.” Needless to say, I was worried. “What’s this ‘something’ supposed to be?” “I, uh, kind of want to pump him up a little bit.” She started fiddling with the glove on her right hand. “I know I dumped Marcus for being too big, but… a fetish is still a fetish, you know? He’s tall, and smart, and handsome, yeah, but— a little beef wouldn’t hurt, right? What do you think?” I took a moment to gather my thoughts. What was I supposed to think? He was an impressive specimen of a man. Taller than most, fit enough to run a marathon, and had a more aged set of features compared to Froy’s. A guy like him didn’t need any more muscle to stand out in a crowd; his clothes already wrapped around his body with such modelesque ease that he could’ve been on any photoshoot spread had his record not been tainted with a sentence. Yet picturing him a little beefier, a little thicker, heavier… it made me quiver. I thought of the men we’d been growing. Marcus, Wes, and Froy. Normal people were never meant to grow to such heights and weights in days. But three people were the exception. I stirred in my seat as I figured: a fourth wouldn’t be so bad. “How much did you have in mind?” I asked. Lisa’s face opened up in glee, illuminating our dark corner of the cafe with her fervor. “Oh, not a lot, I promise. Trust me, I don’t want him realizing what I can do any more than you do.” She took a sip of my coffee. “Besides, I’ve been eyeing his junk for a while now. Doesn’t seem like a little booster there would be too obvious. It’s not like he’ll end up plowing me into the ground with a cock the size of Florida if I gave him a few extra inches.” As Jeremy returned to our table, I passed a subtle nod to Lisa. Her supple lips rippled with contained excitement. Placing the cocktail within Lisa’s reach, Jeremy sat down with a confused look on his face, no doubt wondering what it was making his date for the night so inexplicably ecstatic. He swept his black hair back and gazed over to me, trying to make out an answer from my expression. It didn’t take him long to give up. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Did I miss a punchline?” Lisa shook her head and took a hefty sip of her mojito. “It’s just an inside joke. Nothing to worry your perfect, little brain about.” Jeremy blushed and edged closer, a white grin emitting his impossible charm. “I’m so honored to hear you say that about me,” he said, maintaining strict eye contact with her. “What, ‘little’?” Lisa asked, playfully raising her nose. “Ha! I’m going to make you eat those words.” He raised an eyebrow in response and smirked coyly. “I guarantee you, miss, nothing about me is ‘little’.” As Lisa stripped off her gloves and shed my borrowed coat, exposing both her bare hands on the table for him to grasp, I knew—whether he was teasing or telling the truth—that no truer words would’ve been said. He didn’t hesitate to reach out and cup both her hands in his. “What happened to no physical contact tonight?” he asked, smiling absently. Lisa winked back. “I can make an exception to the rule. Just this once.” The coarse sound of his calloused fingertips running over her silk-like skin was audible even from my end of the table. There was a subtle twitch in his left eye, and I knew something was happening. Though it was invisible in the meantime. I remembered it took Lisa and I around ten hours just to get me back to a normal size. And that was full-body coverage in her bed. Jeremy and Lisa were only holding hands, and the date wouldn’t last for that long anyway. Over time, the gap between their seats shrank as they both shifted closer to one another. The conversations became unignorably loud. I could see through the cracks in the shutter that the other patrons were looking in our direction, moreso when Lisa or Jeremy (sometimes both at the same time) laughed just a little too hard. Their pristine appearances unravelled within an hour. The two people sitting in their seats were different from the calm, cool, and collected Lisa and Jeremy I knew. Their styled hair had frayed from all the action. Even when the jazz duet had called it quits for the night, their talks of political humor, mindless celebrity rumors, and Marcus-related gossip kept the Blue Moon Cafe alive. The speakers had come to life with the same overplayed Jazz playlist they kept on loop. It was an hour or so later—roughly 10pm at night—when I first noticed Lisa’s power taking effect in Jeremy’s body. The shirt he was wearing was starting to chafe around his armpits and pull around his chest. To anyone else, it was negligible. But to someone like me, who spent most of my days ogling the Adamson brothers, I could picture exactly what was happening under that fabric. He was growing wider. There was some struggle moving his arms around as well; I could see the swelling biceps and triceps poke out from under the sheer polyester. Whether he was growing taller, I couldn’t say. We were all still seated, and I couldn’t see any higher than the emerging shade from the underside of his pecs. “God, I must’ve gained some weight,” Jeremy said, rolling his left shoulder back in a vain attempt to loosen the sleeve. “It’s like I can’t move in this damn thing.” “In a few days? I doubt it,” Lisa said. “But either way, the extra pounds suit you.” He raised an eyebrow and, for an instant, bit his lower lip. “You think so? I doubt I could ever match up to the tyke, but I guess all those workouts in prison are finally catching up to me.” “Then maybe we should throw you back in there,” Lisa said. Jeremy’s eyes went wide; he couldn’t help but scoff and grin at the remark. “Wow, you really don’t pull your punches. Is a regular gym membership too vanilla for you? What would you want me to do?” Without hesitation, Lisa lunged forward, gripped him by the jaw, and eyed him seductively. “Question is: what is it you want to do to me?” She planted his lips against his, and he to hers. I blinked for a second, and her hands were all over his torso, digging under his shirt, rubbing him in places I figured were her favorite spots on a man—which, needless to say, was all over. None of us stopped it. Lisa and I both know what she was doing. She was fast-forwarding the transformation. The woman wanted him in bed, and she wanted him big. Her mind was lost in impulsive ecstasy, and neither of us knew what the consequences would be. But we didn’t care. In a way, I also wanted to see just how big he could get. I wanted to know how Lisa’s growth worked, how fast it happened, what it needed to work. When I heard the first telltale signs of tearing under his right armpit, I knew everything I needed to. Men grew a hell of a lot faster when drunk and horny. It was a common factor when I thought about it: Froy’s and Marcus’ biggest spurts were when they were under the influence. It just made sense. The make-out session lasted for upward of a minute before it finally ended. Jeremy was constantly shuffling in his seat, trying valiantly to adjust something in his lower region without looking too obvious. And he was failing—miserably. Lisa didn’t seem to care. She enjoyed seeing him flustered around her; she was enjoying the attention, the lust, the power her beauty held, and the power she could bestow. Alas, just as Lisa finished the last of her cocktail and reached a hand over to fondle Jeremy some more, the door to the cafe swung wide open. The hinges were rusted over years of use, so they slowed down before slamming into the wall. Not this time. Whoever came in was considerably stronger than the average jazz man. That, or they were plain intoxicated. “I didn’t know this place was a hub for drunks too,” Lisa mumbled. Jeremy glared at the slip in the shutters. “It isn’t.” Curious, I moved to see who it was that got Jeremy’s balls in a handlock. I recognized that wavy blonde hair anywhere. Jeremy turned to me, his face cracking with maddening fury. “What is Marcus doing here?” he grunted at me. “Did you invite him?” I shook my head. Both of us returned to staring at him. Lisa joined in as well, peeking through her own gap in the shutter. She gasped and found herself speechless. “Then what the hell is he doing here?” Jeremy asked. We all watched as Marcus, fresh from his own growth last Monday, passed something over to the barista. A paper slip. It was subtle—no one would have noticed his sleight of hand had they not been noting down his every move. Thankfully, we were. Our eyes trailed him as he followed one of the baristas to the kitchen. There, Jeremy had told me earlier, was where the black market deals were made. Then I understood why he’d come. It was only something he said in passing last Monday: “I’ve even been taking these new hormone shots on the black market.” Jeremy ground his teeth, maintaining his red-hot stare at the kitchen door, despite Marcus being well out of sight. “He’s going to ruin everything.” His fist was already bunching up on the table, balling into a white fist. I mustered up the courage to placate him with a hand on his rigidly tense shoulder. “Relax. He doesn’t know we’re here. He’ll probably just get what he came for and leave,” I said. “Don’t… hurt him, Jeremy.” Lisa did her best to hide her concern, but her quivering lips and sharp eyes were louder than she could’ve ever been. “Marcus is harmless.” “You should probably go hide in the ladies’ room for now, Lisa. In case something ends up happening. I don’t want you to see it,” I said. She didn’t argue, because I knew she agreed with me, though with heavy reluctance. “Alright. You have my number. Just call me when the coast is clear.” Jeremy didn’t even notice her leave; that, or he didn’t care whether she was around. He was laser-focused on the door Marcus had gone through, like a guard dog ready to pounce on the first blonde man who walked out. I heard something crash deep in the kitchen after five minutes. The last few patrons enjoying their late-night coffees were rattled and left after leaving their paid tabs on the bar. They didn’t want to stick around for something their only role in was collateral damage. Marcus eventually emerged. Empty-handed. His hair had been ruffled, and, even from our table, I could hear his angered grunting as he stormed out. The barista he’d gone in with didn’t follow. When he left through the front door, Jeremy turned to me and scowled. “Do you think he’s coming back?” “No. He doesn’t double-dip into trouble he’s part of.” And, for the most part, I was right. Since that night at the gym with Fonz, Marcus had abandoned it for a different venue at the opposite end of the district. He’d stopped trying to feed Wes any more of his home-made experiments. Worst of all, he’d stopped coming over to greet me if he saw either of the Adamson brothers anywhere nearby—which was all the time. But this time was an exception to the rule. Because only a minute after Marcus left the cafe, my phone on the table started ringing. I couldn’t breathe seeing the caller’s name. It was Marcus. Jeremy and I panicked. Picking it up was risky, and leaving it to ring was even worse if he were still standing outside. And if I dropped the call? Was I really okay with getting on the bad side of someone like Marcus? Jeremy was pulling out hairs. “Fuck!” he yelled in a whisper. I didn’t know what to do; so I did the only right thing to do, and I picked up the phone. “Hey, Marcus, uh, what’s with the late-night call?” It was silent on his end for a moment, letting me hear the sound of him growling. My phone wasn’t high-tech or anything, so anyone close by could hear what the other end was saying without much difficulty. He was trying so hard not to sound furious. “Hey, Dory, I— uh, do you think I could… sleep over tonight?” he asked. “What? Why?” “Because… you know how I told you I was taking some hormone shots from some guys? I just cut the deal a few minutes ago, and it got a bit messy, so I was looking for a place to cool off. I thought since you’re like my best friend now and you’ve got a place nearby that I could stay for the night.” Jeremy shook his head. “Why can’t he just go home,” he whispered. Marcus replied before I could block Jeremy’s mouth with my hand. “Who said that?” he asked. “Is someone listening? Dory?” Both of us bit our tongues and stared wide-eyed. “It’s just Jeremy,” I said. We waited for a reply from the other end, but instead got the sound of storming feet. Picking up speed. Jeremy gulped, wondering if Marcus had somehow discovered where we were. What was going to happen if he did? The world around me began to swirl and fade into a bleached white. It was an all-consuming fear that enveloped me, and all my ears could do was listen for any sound coming from the cafe’s front door. Then I heard it: the same forceful footsteps coming from my phone. And I looked up, and I realized… the speakers. There was no other jazz bar in town with the same terrible playlist. Marcus had heard it in our moments of silence through my phone. “Fuck.” The next moment, Marcus reappeared in the door. Jeremy and I were frozen stiff behind our shutter, hoping he didn’t know where to look. Sadly, there was really only one place left to look since every other customer had already evacuated before things got hairy. He cut the call and made a beeline to our table. I looked over at Jeremy, and he looked at me, and we both watched in stupefied horror as the shutter wall was pulled aside in one swift motion. Standing menacingly, with flaming anger in his eyes, was Marcus. We all looked at one another, wondering what it was we were meant to say in a situation like this. I was hoping that whatever happened in the kitchen wouldn’t carry over out here. Making a scene was the last thing any of us wanted to do, especially not when we had no one to back us up. It was okay in the office, and it was okay at the resort. It was not okay at a public cafe owned by ex-inmates. “What are you doing here?” Marcus asked me, the faintest twitch at the tip of his lips. “I was just enjoying a coffee with Jeremy. Is there something wrong?” He nodded. “Yeah. What’re you doing having a coffee with him?” Then he looked past us, past Jeremy and I, and settled on Lisa’s seat. Her seat. Where her black purse was left behind. “...And what is Lisa’s bag doing here?” Marcus’ downcast eyes landed back on me, a shadow of betrayal streaming across his face. Jeremy raised his shaking head and revealed a devilish grin. “Fuck it.” He turned to face Marcus, and cockily lifted his chin. “Look, Marcus, I was on a date. I just had Dory here as a third wheel since I didn’t want things getting awkward. Is that all you wanted to know?” This, of course, did nothing to calm Marcus down. “Fuck, no, you rat!” With ease, he scooped Jeremy’s collar with a hand and lifted him up off his seat by a few inches. His regained muscle made it trivial. I could see the bicep peak poking out from under his button-down’s sleeve. “What made you think you could date her? She doesn’t even like jazz!” With an unbothered scoff, Jeremy gripped Marcus’ hand, releasing some of the tension in the stronger man’s grip. “And what would you know? She broke up with you, right? I should be asking you what made you think you of all people could date a catch like her.” “Jeremy, I—“ Marcus barked at me. “Not right now, Dory! I don’t want to hurt you as much as I want to pulverize this motherfucker into the ground.” Despite the situation he was in, Jeremy pulled his lips into a smirk and stood up, careful not to let Marcus’ grip tighten to the point of suffocation around his neck. “You think I’m scared just because you grew a few inches? I’ve dealt with people thirty pounds heavier than you’ve ever been.” Jeremy blew a puff of air into my friend’s nose. “Now, are you going to let go, or are you going to show me how weak your bite is?” With a grunt, Marcus pulled his fist back. I saw it clench at the side of his face, pale-white, tense as granite, more than willing to blow a hole through Jeremy’s ribs if it meant getting him out of the picture. I couldn’t stop him. The punch moved too fast for my eyes to follow, and I blinked. Jeremy didn’t utter a word; not that he could when he was flying through the air and crashing onto the fake wooden floor behind him. A drop of blood dripped down his red nose, and Marcus was starting to hyperventilate. I could see it written on his face: the instantaneous regret from that one act of violence. The unmistakable sound of a whimper trailing his every wheeze-like grunt. He’d never done anything like that before, not in the years I knew him. This was the first time he’d ever punched anyone—or anything for that matter, and I could tell it was getting to him. There were people he’d hurt before, but never like this. There was never any blood. Everything was happening so fast. I didn’t know what to do. I stood up to try and mitigate the fight before things got too ugly, but I couldn’t move; my feet were cemented onto the ground in placid fear. I was praying for a miracle that Lisa couldn’t hear anything from the women’s room. Not when both men pining for her attention were hell-bent on hospitalizing the other. Jeremy stood up with the grace of a new-born moose, shaky and in desperate need of support. There was blood covering his nose, his cleft, his lips. He looked crazed, insane. I thought it would end there. I thought wrong. With a forward lunge, despite Marcus’ increased weight, Jeremy grabbed him by the shirt and threw him further into the cafe like a ragdoll. The few moments in Lisa’s touch had given Jeremy more than enough strength to accommodate Marcus’ bulk. The poor guy didn’t even notice what had happened until he crashed on the ground with a thud. His dress shirt’s buttons had been torn off in the process, leaving his bare chest—and meteorite necklace—exposed. “You asked for it,” Jeremy muttered, raising a fist. There was bloodlust in his eyes, the adrenaline from the pain coursing through his veins like a drug. I tried to stop them. “Jeremy! Stop!” But I was trapped in a vacuum. No one could hear me. No one was listening. Only the three of us populated the bar. Marcus was tearing up. He was staring at the fist hovering over his face, a shallow fear etched on his face, as if waiting for it to come down. I wanted to stop them; I did. Yet there was still a pained effort to be made in finding the right limbs to move. It was embarrassing, unseemly, and I could do nothing but take my first step and watch as the first swing connected with Marcus’ jaw. One step, one punch. It was a rhythm I found to push me forward and get between both men. Everything had blurred around me: the sounds, the sights, the smells—every little thing but Marcus. He was staring at me as the blood dripped from his nose, his lips. I moved without thinking. Jeremy caught me in the corner of his eye bending over to pry them away. But all I’d managed was Marcus’ necklace firmly in my hands—then Jeremy shoved me away, taking the meteorite with me. I knew it was the only way for me to help. I crashed to the ground and took a hit in the back by a chair. A loud crash echoed, and both Jeremy and Marcus’ eyes turned to me. They both cried out simultaneously, “Dory!” I was lucky it wasn’t too hard of a hit. A bruise at most. There was still a tingling sensation in my fingers, and I could still open my eyes. And they grew wide. Because while Jeremy was worried, Marcus’ pained frown was slowly fading away. The tan in his cheeks returned, and the blood on his face was drying to a solid rust in an instant. It was as if the wounds had closed and cut off the blood that had just escaped. His breathing stabilized, and before Jeremy could blink, Marcus began to chuckle. “What the fuck’s so funny?” Jeremy asked. Marcus rubbed a hand across his face, and with it came the dried crusts of his blood. He grinned, menacingly, and reached for Jeremy’s wrists, holding him in place with a vice-like grip. “Oh, fuck…” he moaned, chewing his lip, juggling something in his crotch. “What’s funny is you don’t know what’s about to happen to me.” There was worry in his eyes when Jeremy looked to me over his shoulder. “What’s he talking about?” “I’m about to show you just how weak my bite is.” Then, there, without any warning or preamble, both Jeremy and I were fixed in place as we watched in helpless fascination as Marcus began to expand. It wasn’t gradual; like his most recent growth spurt, this was a visible surge, as though his body, still pinned under Jeremy’s, was stretching upwards and outwards as a balloon would. A moment’s breath later, and the remaining buttons holding down his dress shirt popped off. The fabric fell to the floor at his sides, exposing the ridges of muscle under his enlarging pecs. His chest was becoming rounder, more bulbous as they were making room and almost forcing Jeremy to move. His arms weren’t left behind either. Though Monday had pushed his once-athletic arms to gym rat territory, they were quickly blowing past that as they too rounded out. His biceps and triceps were visibly growing apart, turning his upper arms into meaty footballs. “Mmph!” Marcus moaned, biting his lip. Despite his upper body widening, his waist remained largely the same size. This only accentuated the rate at which his shoulders, growing globes in their own right, were pushing apart, sliding across the wood floor, making him even wider than he already was. The extreme V-taper had returned to Marcus’ body, and he laughed. Marcus moaned, almost in a roar, as he brought up both his growing arms and flexed. Pressing both against the floor caused the swelling muscles to bunch up and appear even bigger than moments before. “Fuuuck! Look at me. I haven’t felt this fucking strong in weeks! I’m so huuuge.” Jeremy’s voice cracked. “What the hell?!” “You can’t hurt me now, ya’ dick.” And Marcus only continued to grow. His legs burst out of his pants and joined the rags that had been left behind in the wake of Marcus’ embiggening. There was an impressive distance his body had traveled along the floor from the point he first tore out of his dress shirt. He’d gotten tall enough to close the gap between him and Jeremy. Try as he might to keep Marcus pinned on the ground in-between his legs, Marcus’ enormous torso and horse-wide thighs were pulling Jeremy into a split. He didn’t have a choice but to get off and stand up. His hands clipped onto the table’s lip behind him as he watched Marcus continue growing along the fake wood floor. If the tables weren’t bolted down, he would’ve toppled backwards. The blonde man’s erection had snaked its way out of his white briefs and stood tall, pointing at the ceiling fan like an obelisk of meat, topped by a bulbous head. Marcus then planted a hand on the floor and stood to his full height. “God, I’ve missed how great it feels to be big!” he cried. Jeremy couldn’t believe his eyes as Marcus finally stopped growing and waddled over. And he was looking down at his assaulter. Not up. Down, by at least two inches. 6’4” or 5”, I figured, since the now-smaller man was 6’2”. He didn’t grow any taller past that point, as if it stopped just to prove that he was the biggest man in the room. Even with Jeremy’s own respectable build, toned to the bone with fibrous muscle, Marcus’ formidable physique made him look like he hadn’t eaten a day in his life, bulging in all the right places with smooth, perfect meat. Marcus cracked his knuckles and his neck as he raised himself even higher by standing on his tip-toes, looming dangerously high, and close, over Jeremy’s pale face. “So you still want to see how ‘weak’ I am, or are you going to get out of my sight, you miserable twink.” He then raised both his arms again and flexed triumphantly. The overhead lighting cast dark shadows all over his back and arms, making him look even more menacing. “Wh-what the fuck! Just because you can grow doesn’t mean any of that muscle is real.” Jeremy’s confident facade was cracked. Marcus sniggered and reached past him. I didn’t know what it was he was going for, since the table behind Jeremy was empty. But then he dug his hand under the table and grabbed it by the stand. “You don’t think I’m as strong as I look? Is that a challenge? Your final answer?” With a guttural yell, not giving Jeremy a moment to think, Marcus tore the table straight off its bolts and threw it across the cafe, straight over Jeremy’s head, crashing it into the stage. All with the strength in a single hand. And it wasn’t the dominant one. “Now say it again. Let’s see you try to hurt me now. If you’re up for a game or Mercy, we—“ “Marcus?! Stop!” All three of us turned to the women’s room where Lisa emerged from hiding. I never called her. She’d likely heard the crash of the table flying across the room. I doubt she had any idea what had just transpired—though, one look at the big Marcus would’ve told her everything she needed to know about what happened in her absence. And it wasn’t pretty. “What did you do?” she asked, suppressing her fury. “Babe, I—“ Jeremy interrupted with a cough. He walked back over to Lisa with a fake limp and rubbed his head. “Lisa! You’ve got to get your ex under control. He just started growing and tore the place apart!” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop acting. I’ve been with enough men to know a fake limp from a real one.” She then sighed and lowered her head, folding her arms across her chest in surrender. “And I know Marcus. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not if he didn’t want to fuck it.” Marcus smiled at the remark, and I saw his lips quiver and his face soften. His shoulders relaxed and drooped somewhat, though it was hard to tell when his neck muscles were propping his entire torso up. “Just go home, Jeremy,” Lisa said. “I don’t think we’re going to work out, after all.” She continued, turning to Marcus who was eyeing her curiously, “And I meant what I said. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry. I just need a break from men for a while.” Marcus maintained a smile, though pitiful. “I get it.” Then, as if he didn’t, he raised his right arm and slapped the mountainous bicep peak. “But even when I’m so damn—“ “I said ‘no’, Marcus. And please cover up that fire hydrant you call a cock. It’s bringing back bad memories.” He did as he was told, and even bothered to clean up. It was never going to be usable without its base, but Marcus placed the table he’d torn off back in its spot on the floor. Lisa even offeredN to drive him home, on the condition that he didn’t talk to her, look at her, or offer her ‘some good, good sex like old times.’ N I thought that was the end of Marcus’ growing for a while. I still had to fix his necklace and return it without attracting too much suspicion. There were still so many things I didn’t understand about the way the meteors affected his body. (Un)fortunately for me, Wes’ birthday held more surprises than a stripper bound to be hiding in the cake. 24 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Felix Posted July 24, 2021 Share Posted July 24, 2021 If this is the non canon part, I can't wait for how good would the canon part be As always an Amazing job! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted July 25, 2021 Share Posted July 25, 2021 Even if not canon made very well Thanks as always for adding more to your story Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.