Popular Post londonboy Posted April 7, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted April 7, 2019 I pulled on the handle at the front door of my house, forgetting it was locked, and the entire thing came screeching off in my hand. Hinges ripped apart, lock mechanisms were torn to shreds, the wood frame splintered into tiny fragments, and chunks of broken cement fell on the porch around me. I immediately felt like crying. In my haste to get inside I had forgotten the change. In my moment of total frustration my hand also squeezed the steel nob into an unrecognizable glob of destroyed junk. This made me want to sob even more. I calmly leaned the door against what remained of its frame and sat down right where I was. I just couldn’t take any more. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to touch anything, and I certainly didn’t want to have super strength anymore. Let me rewind to the beginning. I’m an accountant – just a simple accountant at a huge firm downtown. I have a meticulously ordered cubicle and I do my job from nine to five without causing anyone grief. I definitely never draw attention to myself. I am a friend of Reed in the cubicle next to me and I sometimes speak to Doris who answers the phones. I inherited my parents home after my mother died two years ago and I maintain a simple life as organized as my cubicle. I don’t venture out of my daily schedule, I don’t talk to strangers, and I liked my life very much until a few days ago. Some people may say all of this sounds sad and pathetic, but it was heaven to me. I am not what you would call a ‘people person’ and I enjoy everything in my life being patterned with familiarity. I graduated top of my class in business school and I have served my firm well for almost ten years. All of this harmony and contentment ended last Thursday. I was walking home from the Bergermont Station – the station I have walked home from for almost ten years and was not veering off my normal and trusted path - that is, until I came upon road construction that made me detour down an unfamiliar street. I was quite bothered by this unforeseen intrusion in my plans and knew it would delay me getting home for about five minutes. I found this quite frustrating, but realized it was unavoidable. The street was cluttered with heavy machinery and there were caution signs and temporary concrete dividers positioned everywhere. I quickly noticed that the street was deserted and as I tried to look through covered fencing to see what was being built, I stepped onto a piece of plywood that had been placed over a large hole. There was no warning sign and no detour barriers had been placed in appropriate places to force people to walk around the hole. As soon as my full weight was placed on the center of the piece of wood it jostled slightly and then fell – yes, fell down into the hole, taking me with it. The first thought that came to mind when I hit the bottom was that m delay was going to be a tad longer than planned. I fell on my butt as soon as the plywood hit the bottom of the hole. I didn’t hurt myself and when I looked up I immediately saw the problem – the board placed across the hole was clearly smaller than the opening itself. I stood up and peered upward, realizing that I was about nine to ten feet below street level. I tried to dust off my pants and thought about how hard it would be to get reddish mud stains out of clothes. It then dawned on me that I might not be able to climb out of the hole. The walls were basically a mixture of smooth rock and hard dirt. I quickly thought about using the board in some way, but noticed that the thing was now tightly wedged in the confined space at the bottom. I looked upward again and immediately noticed a black pipe halfway embedded in the dirt and rock on one side – about six feet up. I am five feet eight inches tall so I knew it was possible for me to grab hold of the cylinder and pull myself up. I found a loose stone in one of the corners and used it to knock some of the dirt from around the tube so I could get a good grip. When that task was done, I made sure my satchel was secure around my shoulder and then I gripped the pipe and tried to pretend like I had done pull-ups for most of my life. I only weighed one forty so how hard could it be. It took me two tries before I even got my chest above the pipe – mainly because I had no upper body strength whatsoever. It is amazing what desperation can cause in a person’s body and I actually got my head near the top of the hole on the third try, but that is when the pipe chose to burst. I guess my weight was too much for the thing. It came apart at one of the joints and this sent me falling back to the ground. It also caused lime green slush to come streaming out of the pipe all over me. I felt like I was being slimed as if I was on one of those children’s networks I sometimes caught when flipping through channels. I instinctively closed my eyes and shut my mouth as soon as I felt the slushy stuff hit my head and start oozing down over my body. I also jumped up and moved out of the way. I wiped my eyes and then opened them to see gallons of the green goo streaming into the hole. For a brief moment I thought about how this was going to ruin the good shirt I was wearing, the nice slacks I had on, and my favorite shoes I had chosen that morning. My disappointment was brief, however, when I realized that the slime filling the hole was actually my saving grace. By this point the green gunk was well past my shins and I realized the hole was going to fill up quickly. The stuff was thin enough for me to tread in place when it got as high as my head and I’d just allow it to help my body rise to the top. It was only at that moment when I realized how terrible the slush smelled. It wasn’t like a sewer odor – it was more like chemicals. I tried breathing through my mouth to help a little, but that only seemed to irritate my insides. I just held my breath for long moments and then stole quick inhales. It was when my head was about two feet from the top of the hole when I realized my satchel was not over my shoulder. It dawned on me that it must have fell off when I dropped from the pipe. Since it contained my wallet, my phone, and the work I was bringing home I did the only logical thing – I dove into the green paste and blindly searched for it on the bottom. When I finally grasped it I quickly swam back to the top and realized I was able to now easily grab the edge and slide out of the hole. I also noticed the liquid had stopped rising – clearly there wasn’t anything still pumping into the space. I looked down at my body and realized I now looked like a gooey mess. The liquid didn’t seem to hold its green color after I emerged from the hole and I found that a blessing as I started walking home. I noticed two hazard signs attached to folding barricades and also a couple of orange pylons. I took the time to place those items around the hole before I left. I didn’t want anyone else to have the misfortune of falling in. As I placed the final pylon I looked back down and was shocked to see that the green goop was gone – it had obviously evaporated or seeped into the ground. I could not believe it had disappeared that quickly. I then made my way home carefully, not wanting to bump into anyone and have to explain my messy look. When I arrived home I immediately went to take a shower. When I stepped into the bathroom I glanced in the mirror and saw that my clothes were completely normal looking. They were totally dry and wrinkle-free. As a matter of fact, I thought they looked better than before I fell in the hole. I glanced down at my shoes and was shocked to see them sparkling like they had been professionally shined. I still thought it best for me to take a shower – even though it was not part of my evening routine. As soon as the water hit my body I felt a slight stinging wherever it landed, as if the water were too hot or I was sunburned. I turned up the cold water but the liquid still hurt a little. I didn’t really think anything about it – mainly because I wanted to clean myself completely – but when I stepped back in front of the mirror my body was as red as a lobster. I thought it was just the bathroom lighting until I pressed on my arm with a few fingers and it was briefly much whiter in that spot after I removed them. My body didn’t hurt at that point, so I just assumed it was because I scrubbed so hard to get myself clean. I finished in the bathroom and decided I could allow myself to go ahead and get in my pajamas since I had been through so much. I was ecstatic to fall back into my familiar routine for the evening and I quickly fixed my dinner and settled down to watch the two episodes of Downton Abbey saved on my DVR. Before I went to sleep that night I chewed two antacids as I always did – as a precautionary step – and then I made sure my alarm clock was set, I placed my glasses on the side table, I turned on the nightlight, and then I settled down for a peaceful sleep – happy to have this day ending. My night, however, did not go as planned. First off, there were the nightmares. I don’t usually dream at all, or if I do I don’t remember, but that night my visions as I slept were all about change – things not being where I placed them, addresses being messed up, receiving phone calls not meant for me, and talking to people I didn’t know. I woke up twice during the night and was literally sweating from anxiety over what was going on in my head. I was also extremely hot. The second time I woke up I decided to do something I had never done before. I took off my dam pajamas and slept in only my briefs – without even a blanket or sheet covering my body. At first it felt terrible and I couldn’t go back to sleep – probably because of guilt or shame, I think - but finally it felt so good that I drifted back to a heavy sleep. As usual I woke up before the alarm went off, I reached for my glasses and put them on – and couldn’t see a thing. It was all blurry. I thought for a second they were just dirty or foggy. I took them off to clean them and my vision immediately cleared. It was the wildest thing. I looked over at the clock and I could read it perfectly – something I hadn’t been able to do in years. I reached over to push down the button to turn off the soon-to-be buzzing alarm and I must have caught the thing wrong – because the entire clock just shattered to pieces. I was so caught off guard by the freak accident. The entire mechanism just broke into thousands of fragments that shot out everywhere. I panicked a little and bent down quickly to pull the plug from the wall so there wouldn’t be live wires on the table. I was so disturbed by the intrusion into my morning I decided I would clean the mess later on. I also could not believe how hungry I was. I felt that the first thing I should do was get breakfast – even though that was usually the last thing I did. I also shocked myself by choosing not to put on my pajamas. I just felt like being nude – something totally different for me. I knew it sounded strange, but as I slipped out onto the floor I felt that my queen-sized bed was smaller than usual. I shook it off and went out to the hallway. As I moved from the bedroom it felt a little odd going through the doorway – something was a little off but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Again, I just decided to ignore it – mainly because my stomach was now growling loudly. As I passed the fridge in the kitchen it seemed like the appliance was shorter than I remembered. That was a bizarre thing to notice. I flipped the switch to start the coffee maker and then went to the fridge. When I grabbed the handle of the stainless steel Frigidaire and pulled the thing came off in my hand. The blasted thing had been loose for a while, so I wasn’t really surprised. I then looked down and saw that the screws holding the handle to the door were actually snapped in two. I became a little angry at the poor workmanship – knowing that my extended warranty would pay for the repair, but it was still a nuisance. I reached out and placed my fingers around the top of the door to pull it out – noticing that I was actually looking down at what I was doing. I was still shocked that the fridge seemed so short. My morning mind was playing tricks on me. I tugged pretty hard and the entire door came off in my hand. I let out a small yell as soon as I was standing there with the entire right door of my doublewide refrigerator dangling in the air by my one hand. I started thinking about going back to bed since the morning was getting off to such a bad start. Instead of dealing with the broken door at that moment I decided to just push the thing back into place, knowing it would stay put because of the lining around the door. I made a mental note to call the repairman as soon as I got to work. I decided it was a toast morning and I grabbed a couple slices of bread and put it in the toaster – intentionally being careful with the smaller appliance since I didn’t want anything else to go wrong. When I grabbed my favorite coffee mug from the cupboard I was caught off guard how different it felt in my hand. I typically used two hands to hold my extra large Star Trek cup, but today I was halfway through my first round of caffeine when I realized I was handling it easily with one hand. As a matter of fact it looked smaller than I ever remembered. I clicked on the television to watch CNN and ended up having six pieces of toast. I was just that hungry. I was actually still hungry after the last piece, but I knew I needed to get ready for work. Going back into the bedroom I definitely got the feeling that something was very different about the doorway – it just felt thinner and lower for some reason. I worried for a few minutes I might have a fever and it was causing ‘fun house’ hallucinations, but then I realized I actually felt really, really good – fantastic, as a matter of fact. I stepped into the bathroom and stood right up against the counter top – knowing I’d need to be close since I didn’t have my glasses on. When I looked into the mirror I could have sworn the world stopped spinning and my heart stopped beating. The first thing I noticed was I couldn’t see my face. The top of the mirror was too low – something that couldn’t be. I stepped back out of necessity, but as I did I got my first glimpse of something that made me immediately think of the green goo I had fallen in the day before. I was floored by my reflection in the mirror. It took me a good three minutes to sort through all of the emotions flowing through my head – shock, disgust, wonder, being freaked out, and then back to shock. My thin little body – the body I had come to trust and adore – was no longer there. Instead, staring back at me in the mirror was the body of some muscle bound behemoth. As shocked as I was about my new huge physique, I immediately thought about the alarm clock, the doorframe, and the refrigerator. Those had not been freak accidents. Those had not been faulty appliances. Those had not been feverish hallucinations. I was now almost as wide as my doorways and my head missed the top of the frame by maybe six inches. I used to have to almost stand on my tip toes just to place my palm on the top of the frame – now my messed up morning hair actually brushed against it. I looked down at my arm and my hand and I knew instantly that the accidents with the alarm clock, the fridge handle, and the door itself weren’t chance mishaps. I had done all of those things easily because I now looked like that guy who played the Incredible Hulk on that old television series – and later was on King of Queens. I couldn’t think of his name at the moment and it bugged the crap out of me. I went through the alphabet quickly to see if any letter would help ring a bell and make me remember the guy’s name. I think I was actually doing anything possible to not have to face what was staring back at me from the mirror. I just couldn’t fathom that I had grown into this giant hulk reflected before me. It just wasn’t possible, but then I remembered the green slime in the hole at the construction site. I knew it had something to do with my changes. I knew… Lou Ferrigno. His name is Lou Ferrigno. Man, I was so glad that I thought of his name. That was going to bug me all day at work. WORK!!! I felt like I was about to have a panic attack and I actually stopped for a moment to think about whether huge bodybuilders ever had panic attacks. It seemed to me that if you were as big as I was now you didn’t really have anything to panic about. I then started thinking about how big men like the one in the mirror usually made me very uncomfortable and most of the time I went out of my way to avoid meeting or talking to them. I didn’t go to gyms and I certainly didn’t play sports. A huge bear-like guy had tried to pick me up at a bar once and it had caused me to completely stop going to gay bars. I was so sure that he would have taken me home and killed me – even unintentionally. He could have just rolled over on top of me in his sleep and his tremendously huge body would have crushed me. But now I had that tremendously huge body. I shook my head hard when I realized I had gotten off track again. I returned to my pseudo panic attack about work. There was only one thing to do. I had to call in sick. That was something I had never done in the almost ten years I had been at the firm. I started to rationalize why I shouldn’t call in sick and how I could actually go to the office and try to avoid everyone all day. Two things, however, made that plan the most foolish thing I had ever thought – one, I certainly had no clothes that could come close to fitting the body that I now possessed and two, how in the world was I going to hide what looked to be a six foot six inch and certainly over three hundred pound body in a cubicle. What kind of drugs was I taking to even consider going in? I stepped into the bedroom and went to the landline on my bedside table. I was so overwhelmed by the situation that I picked up the cordless receiver and held it a little too tightly. Before I could even turn my hand towards me so I could dial the number I crushed the thing to smithereens without even trying. I opened my palm wider and fragments of the demolished receiver fell to the floor. It looked like someone had driven over it with a car. I stopped for a moment and focused – telling myself that I needed to be more careful when I was handling anything. I went to my dresser and picked up my cellular phone lightly. I also pushed the touch screen softly, noticing how hard it was to operate the phone since I now had giant fingers. It took me three times to finally dial the number correctly. I got my supervisor’s voice mail. When I started speaking I immediately stopped and freaked out – the voice was not mine. It was deeper and much more masculine sounding than anything I had ever heard. I erased the first part and started over, using the bass sounding tone to help give the impression that I was truly sick. I had never lied to my supervisor and I’m not sure I was too convincing. I hoped that the way I sounded would actually say a lot more than the words I left. After I hung up I went over to the bed and sat down, noticing that my knees came way up in the air since I was now so tall. I just needed a few minutes to let everything sink in. It was just a little too much to be happening at one moment. My well-ordered life was being interrupted and I didn’t like it. That’s when I finally took stock of what my new body really looked like – and it started with my trusted friend ‘Willy.’ So, yes, I was one of those guys that named his penis. It all started with an old movie about an Orca whale. Every time I needed to find release I would tell myself it was time to “free Willy.” It probably had something to do with my embarrassment of using words like masturbation, orgasm, or hard-on. It just seemed easier to have a code name for my penis and the act of beating off. As I gazed down at my crotch I noticed that Willy had, indeed, been freed. He had grown so much that most of him now stuck out way beyond the confines of my briefs – and he wasn’t really fully excited. I really never looked at Willy that much – especially since he hadn’t been that impressive before now. Growing up I was painfully aware of how inadequate I was in that area of my body, so I just simply ignored it until the Saturday night ritual of freeing him was established in my late teens. I simply realized it was a natural need and I went about the task methodically and making sure everything was as sterile as can be. Now, however, I noticed that the Orca description more accurately fit what protruded from my crotch and stuck out past the boundaries of my now overextended briefs. The fat head of my penis looked almost as big as my fist – well, my old fist. It flared out wide and full like a giant mushroom, which had a very thick and extremely long stalk. The term ‘log’ jumped into my mind as I looked at the profuse base underneath the head. I immediately pushed that thought out of my head finding it crude and inappropriate – I liked to use correct words for body parts – but it kept creeping back into my mind as I looked at Willy. I stood up and shoved my underwear down – gasping a little when the size of my thighs made the cotton material split on both sides and the remains fell down, getting caught on my bulging calves. Once Willy was truly freed he arched out from my new body like the long neck of a diplodocus dinosaur. I was slightly mesmerized by the giant thing and made it bounce a little by tightening my crotch muscles. The size and sudden awareness of the weight of my new humongous testicles caused me to move away from Willy. I was immediately embarrassed by my fascination with my newly enlarged member and felt that it was beneath me to stay focused on that area. I decided to, instead, peruse my new abdominals. I had never used a washboard and I had previously never understood the reference to a man’s stomach, but suddenly it made perfect sense. I saw that I could clearly have gone down to some river and cleaned a few baskets full of laundry on the ridges that now made up my mid-section. I realized on a subconscious level that it was extremely hard for me to see my full stomach because of my now colossal pectoral muscles, but I was too focused on the bottom part of my – what was it some people called it, oh yes – six pack to acknowledge anything else. The crevice down the middle of my tummy made the thickly muscled bumps on either side stand out more. Without even knowing where the instinct came from I tensed my lower torso and the washboard bulged out even more. I did it a few more times just to marvel at how I could control that part of my body for the first time. I had always been pretty thing, but that particular part of my body had been very smooth and uninspiring. I caught myself having negative thoughts about my old body and I immediately shut down that part of my brain. Yes, my stomach muscles were now what you might call ‘chiseled,’ but that was no reason to not like the old me. I had been very happy in my life until falling into the hole the day before and I didn’t like what the changes were doing to my psyche. However, when I let my attention finally focus on my chest I briefly lost control again. I felt like I was looking down two giant ski slopes running side by side, but the paths seemed to go straight out for a while and then drop off like sheer cliffs. I could actually feel how much thickness there was in each pectoral muscle and how heavy that made them. Again, without even knowing what caused me to know how to even do it, I began to make each half of my giant chest bounce up and down. I felt Willy jerk to attention a little as I gazed at each humongous side swell upward and then fall back down. When one of my pectoral muscles would balloon up I would get a quick glance at the hardened nipple jutting out from the edge and it surprised me when the thrill the sight caused actually made the thick piece of dark flesh perk up even more. Both nipples looked like fingers pointing out from my immense chest. I took a huge gulp of air just to watch my pectoral muscles swell to a previously unfathomable size. I then noticed the tip of Willy poking straight out – far enough for me to see it clearly in the deep valley in the middle of my chest. The sight of the huge log fully hard unsettled me – it made me realize I was letting my urges get the best of me. Suddenly I needed to find clothes to cover my body – and find them fast. I was beginning to view myself in a way that was just not right – not how I wanted to act. This was all indecent and I was not that kind of man. I behaved according to the norms of society and giving into any lust-filled moment was just not proper behavior for a gentleman. The sight of my pulsating giant cockhead as I glanced back down, however, made my body tingle so much that I again forgot about being a gentleman. How on earth did something so nasty look so unbelievably hot? Thinking the word ‘hot’ snapped me out of my uncharacteristic desire for my own now-huge penis. I did not use such words to describe myself. I actually never used such words at all. I stood up and went to my dresser, pulling open drawers like a mad man. I grabbed a pair of briefs and bent down to pull them on. As soon as I got just above my knees – having stopped for a few seconds to marvel at the size of my bulging calves – my underwear snapped apart loudly as I attempted to pull it up over my humongous thighs. I didn’t even get halfway up my upper legs before the material just ripped down the seams on both sides and went flying a few feet away because of the elastic. It all happened so fast that I was caught off guard and didn’t realize what had caused the destruction. I almost reached in to grab another pair, but then it began to dawn on me that my legs had simply become too big for my ‘old me’ underwear. I was beginning to think that my entire body had become too big for my ‘old me’ life. 36 2 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gogr2 Posted April 8, 2019 Share Posted April 8, 2019 Amazing as always! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hardmuscl4life Posted April 8, 2019 Share Posted April 8, 2019 That was fun. Please continue Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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