Popular Post GreenSleeves Posted June 24, 2018 Popular Post Share Posted June 24, 2018 Before we begin, I have a couple notes: First, this story was inspired by this post from SuperWaffle over on tumblr. Second, I wrote this over on my blogger, and in transferring it here some of the formatting and whatnot was lost. For a slightly prettier looking version of this story, read it here. With that out of the way, read on and enjoy! Freak Find at the Flea Market Jonathan Riley wandered the narrow pathways between booths and tables, not really looking at the goods that were on display. The gymnasium of the local community centre was currently home to a flea market, and Jon had been planning to meet up with some friends there for a low-key way to pass some time on a boring summer weekend, but at the very last minute they all had to pull out. Jon had already been almost there when he got the texts so he figured he may as well poke around a bit on his own, but it just wasn't fun without his friends there to goof off with. On the verge of calling it quits, Jon looked up from his aimless wandering to find he'd walked into someone's "shop". It was just a couple tables of knick-knacks and a clothing rack, placed together under a collapsible canopy. The owner didn't seem to be present. Jon turned to leave, but his eyes fell on a shirt hanging on the rack and he froze. Slowly he reached out and removed the hanger from the rack. The shirt was a white muscle tee, the kind that had a neckline like an ordinary tee shirt, but no sleeves, and armholes that dipped down low to reveal the wearer's entire side. Written in an arc across the chest in bold block letters, like those found on the backs of varsity jackets, was the word FREAK. Beneath that, in the same font but large enough to take up the rest of the front, was the number 8. "Find what you're looking for?" Jon almost jumped straight through the canopy. He turned to see the man who must be the stall's owner. How had he not noticed him return? "Um, y-yeah," stammered Jon. "I mean, I think so? I don't really know..." The man looked at the tank in Jon's hands and smiled. "Oh yes, I think those are exactly what you want, young man." "Those?" Jon was confused. He just had the one item. Still smiling, the man simply reached in through the tee's armhole and fished something out. Hanging by its waistband, but hidden inside the shirt, was a plain white jockstrap. Well, maybe not "plain". Jon suddenly felt himself blushing. The pouch on the thing was huge! He didn't know why, but he wanted these clothes desperately. Needed them. He turned them over and over in his hands. "Um, there's no price on them," Jon said. If anything, the man smiled wider than ever. "Tell ya what. Nobody else has so much as looked at those things," he said. "There's no way I'll be able to sell 'em. Why don't you just go ahead and take 'em." Jon excitedly agreed, then quickly made his way to the exit. He desperately wanted to try the clothes on. As he neared the gymnasium doors, he realized that he should have at least thanked the man for the gift and turned back. He could see the man's stall from where he was, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Well, he couldn't have gone far. Shouldn't be too hard to find him again. Except... Jon frowned. For some reason, he couldn't remember what the man looked like. At all. That was weird. But then, Jon had been very focused on the tank and jock while talking to the man. That's right, the tank and jock... He should hurry home to try them on... ***** Standing in his room, stripped to his undies in front of his full-length mirror, Jonathan stared at his body and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. Weighing a mere 150 pounds while standing at 6'5", he was a very skinny guy, no two ways about it. He was normally okay with that, but for some reason he now felt... inadequate. Despite his skinniness, Jon was not unattractive. His skin was smooth and clear, he had a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were piercing blue and his hair was full and thick. And yet... Jon took a deep breath and could see every one of his ribs. The bones at his elbows, shoulders, and knees were easily made out beneath his skin. His boxer-briefs should have clung to his thighs but were almost loose enough to just be boxers. His manhood was fairly average he knew but without the bulk of thighs to push it forward the front pouch of his boxer-briefs seemed almost empty. It wasn't like he'd never tried to bulk up. He'd gone to a gym for a while, but it hadn't seemed to help at all, and he'd been self-conscious the entire time. But he'd played basketball all through junior high and high school. His height had made him a shoe-in. Of course, that height also accentuated his slimness. Jon glanced over his shoulder at the muscle tee and jockstrap that were laid out on his bed. Why had he wanted them so badly? They didn't suit him at all. This day has been so weird. He sighed, picked up the tee, and went back to his mirror. May as well just try it on... In spite of his misgivings, the tee didn't actually look that ridiculous on him. Oh, he'd never wear it out and about, but it would be fine for just laying around the house, playing video games... Jon smiled. He hadn't gotten in his head like that for a long time, but he was through it now. As if to fully banish the negative thoughts, Jon struck up an ironic double biceps pose and winked at his reflection. He chuckled to himself and began to turn away, but stopped and looked back at the mirror. Slowly he brought his right arm back up and flexed again. There was some clear definition there, a nice little bump of a bicep. Some weird trick of the light even made it seem like Jon's arm was growing right in front of his eyes. Jon brought his other hand up to feel, and was shocked to find his arm was definitely thicker! Where he could normally almost close his hand around his upper arm, there was now more than an inch between his fingers and thumb. And the gap was widening! He stepped closer to the mirror and struck up another double biceps pose, watched for a moment as his arms thickened slowly but steadily. Not just his biceps, either, his forearms seemed to be inflating too! Jon dropped the pose to look down at the rest of his body, which had been keeping pace while he was enraptured with his arms. His knobbly knees had once been the widest parts of his legs, but now his calves made them look narrow, and this thighs absolutely dwarfed them! The once-loose legs of his boxer-briefs were now tight and pushed up by his growing quads, which were showing deeper and deeper definition between the individual muscles. The muscle tee was becoming tight now, and Jon looked back at his reflection to get the full view. Wait, was the mirror shorter than before, or... No way. Jon was growing taller, too! This had to be some kind of dream, right? When he got back from the flea market he'd probably laid down on his bed and dozed off. That had to be it. But, as long as he was dreaming, he might as well enjoy it, right? Over top of the tee, Jon ran his hands across his abs, feeling the rippling sheets of muscle. It felt like running his hands over corrugated steel. His hands rose higher to cup the heavy weight of his new, swollen pecs. Jon desperately wanted to see his muscles unobscured by the shirt, but he didn't dare remove it. This miraculous growth must have been caused by the shirt somehow. What if taking it off stopped the growth? As he marvelled at his ever expanding form, Jon realized he wasn't just packing on muscle. His skeleton had to be changing too. There was the obvious case of his greater height—he seemed to have settled at about seven feet tall!—but his hands and feet seem to have increased as well, proportionally with his height. Distinctly out of proportion, though, were his shoulders. While originally they'd been only slightly wider than his waist, they were now on their way to being twice as wide! His new bulging delts couldn't account for that width on their own. The muscle tee, once baggy, was now straining across Jon's massive, heaving chest, and was approaching skin-tight on his growing, but still relatively narrower, trunk. The deep armholes reached Jon's waist, and he gaped at the fact that his lats almost filled them top-to-bottom. Giving his lats a flex made him look like he'd sprouted wings! The tightness of the tee was now becoming uncomfortable. Maybe this was big enough. Jon reached for the bottom of the shirt, but he couldn't find it. His fingers slid down over fabric that morphed seamlessly into the deep-v of his new Adonis belt. Jon started to panic. He had to get the shirt off! It was so tight now that he couldn't take a full breath! His fingers felt all around his hips, his shoulders, his neck, searching for the hem of the shirt but it just wasn't there. Jon gave up the search and stared at his still-swelling physique in the mirror with horror that still bordered on awe. Then the shirt itself began to change. A dark line formed down the centre of the numeral eight on his abdomen. Then two more lines, one across the upper circle and one across the lower. The muscle tee began to sink into the crevices between Jon's muscles, as though he were being vacuum sealed. The now eight sections of the number shifted slightly to take on the shape and position of the eight ripped abs beneath them. A deep cleft appeared between his massive pectorals. Even the smaller waves of his obliques and serratus muscles were filled in. When the shirt was literally skin-tight, a new change began. Starting at the bottom, the white material began to disappear, or maybe merge into the skin beneath. Either way, it was vanishing. The black remains of the numeral eight faded too, replaced by the deep gutters between Jon's abs. His nipples poked through like pencil-erasers. The fabric of the shirt receded up and up until the last of it vanished from the peaks of his traps. The transformation was over, but one thing was left behind. Across Jon's powerful chest was the word FREAK in bold black letters. Wonderingly, Jon brought his hand up to feel the letters. They felt just like his skin. He'd been tattooed. But as his hand ran over his mighty pecs, Jon couldn't help but admit that it was accurate. He was a freak now. He threw a crab pose, and the letter E was almost completely swallowed in the cleft of his chest. Jon was a glorious muscle freak. He turned around and looked over his shoulder to see his broad back in the mirror. It was every bit as impressive as the rest of him was now. There were only a few things that seemed to be missing... Facing the mirror again, Jon looked at the pouch of his underwear. It was much better filled out now that his tree trunk-like legs pushed all of his goods forward, but it was clear that whatever magic had given him his new body hadn't affected his junk at all. He stripped off his boxer-briefs and stood completely bare. His cock and balls had been decidedly average before, but that meant they'd seemed relatively large compared to his narrow frame. Now that he was built like a god, his dick seemed downright puny. And when he turned to check out his ass, it was clear that it had toned up considerably and grown a little, but it still seemed out of proportion with the rest of him. Why would the shirt ignore these two parts of him? A glimpse of white on his bed behind him caught his eye in the mirror. Of course! The jockstrap! Jon quickly grabbed it and returned to the mirror to don it. The straps stretched considerably going over his thick thighs, but the pouch was still fairly loose. Jon hoped that was about to change. Nothing seemed to be happening. Jon turned slightly to view his package from the side. Still no change. Maybe the jockstrap is just a jockstrap. A shame if true, but if nothing else the straps accentuated his ass, making it seem not quite so small, relative to the rest of him. Hold on... His ass actually was bigger. And still growing. The jockstrap worked just like the tee! Jon turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder. He reached both of his hands down and gripped one growing cheek in each, giving them a squeeze. His powerful fingers sank into the soft flesh, until he flexed his glutes and the hardening muscles forced the digits back out. Jon squeezed and flexed a few more times. Each time his fingers sank in with more difficulty, and were more easily pushed back out by his inflating ass cheeks. He would have continued, but his attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. While Jon had been focused on his expanding ass, the jock pouch had been getting more and more crowded. Jon turned once more to face the mirror to get a full frontal on this new development. His manhood was now making three distinct bulges in the fabric, two egg-shaped lumps beneath a lengthening sausage. He watched, slack-jawed, and the bulges grew and grew, but a problem was becoming apparent. Just as the muscle tee had begun to compress his lungs when his upper body filled it completely, the jock pouch was beginning to compress Jon's growing goodies. The pressure on his cock and balls was merely uncomfortable for now, but if his plumbing continued to inflate it would soon become rather painful. Luckily, the pouch had reached its capacity and the next stage began. Just as the shirt had sunken into every nook and cranny of Jon's upper body, so too did the jockstrap begin to form around his dick and ballsack. The sight of his junk perfectly encompassed in the white fabric was surprisingly lewd. And it made the increased size of it very obvious. Though his softball sized nuts were held tight to his body by the clinging material, Jon's new python hung almost halfway to his knees. But it didn't hang for long. In a slow, pulsing manner, Jon's massive member began to harden, climbing higher as every beat of his heart sent a throb through its new length. The fabric of the jockstrap strained against this different kind of growth. As his erection reached maximum hardness, almost brushing the underside of his mammoth pecs, Jon felt a rush of warmth fill him and knew he was on the brink of shooting. He hadn't even touched his cock! Waves of pleasure were rocking through him, but he wasn't cumming yet. He looked down, past his colossal manhood, and saw the leg straps beginning to vanish into his skin, just as the tee had done earlier. He turned to see the waist strap disappearing above his shelf-like bubble butt, before facing the mirror head on again. The fabric over his package had begun to recede as well, beginning with his constricted scrotum. As the white material vanished, his giant balls fell heavily to the bottom of his freed sack. The diminishing fabric then began travelling up his shaft. This seemed to push Jon's orgasm right to the brink. The powerful muscles around his manhood began to pulse and flex, making his nuts rise and fall and his cock sway back and forth. Jon's pleasure climbed along with the fabric, and the flexing of his groin muscles intensified. His balls were practically vibrating against his taint now, and his dick was rebounding off of his abs with meaty thuds. The material reached the flaring flange of his cockhead. Jon was almost out of his mind with ecstasy. Finally, the fabric reached the wide piss-slit of Jon's spasming phallus and vanished completely. Jon's orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His entire muscular body locked up except when a new wave pulsed through him, making his hips buck like a bronco. His cannon-sized cock fired off volley after volley of thick, pearly cum with such force that it was able to splatter against the ceiling. But the bucking of his body and the twitching of his dick meant that the creamy salvos hit many more targets. Thick ropes of cum burst against Jon's face, his pecs, his abs, and all over the mirror in front of him. What seemed like and hour later, the last few shots of spunk arced out onto his bedroom floor. Jon's entire body was quaking. His arm moved heavily to smear his jizz off of the mirror so that he could look at himself. His upped body was caked in his manly batter. Spunk obscured his new chest tattoo and filled his cleavage. Strings of semen hung off his nipples, and ran down the gutters of his abs. Residual cum poured from his cockhole and trickled down his shaft to drip from his low hanging balls. Jon just stood there, panting, for a moment. He still wasn't sure whether this had all been a dream or not, but if it was, he was sure he'd wake to find it had been a wet one! He was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of his phone vibrating a few times on his dresser, signalling a series of texts. He left a trail of cum drips on his way to read it. It was from his buddy Cliff. hey, it said, sorry I bailed on the flea market thing was probably lame without me, I know parents were being weird, needed to talk anyway I'm free now so we can hang, almost at your place find anything cool at the market? Jon didn't know what to do. How was he going to explain what had happened to him? Did he have enough time to clean up his musky mess? What could he wear? None of his clothes would fit him now. How was Cliff going to react? 29 2 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted June 24, 2018 Share Posted June 24, 2018 Truly excellent! Many thanks! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
capteg1 Posted June 25, 2018 Share Posted June 25, 2018 Thank you! That was fun! Love to see what Cliff thinks about his find! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pasidious Posted June 25, 2018 Share Posted June 25, 2018 Oh how I wish I were Cliff! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GreenSleeves Posted June 26, 2018 Author Share Posted June 26, 2018 Thanks, all! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LuciferDragonshift Posted June 28, 2018 Share Posted June 28, 2018 Oh wow. Hot as all shit man. Nice. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Posted July 3, 2018 Share Posted July 3, 2018 Awesome storyman Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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