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July 28th - One Last Thing (Additional Material Added 8/4/20)


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Chapter 11

            I must have masturbated eight times before Danny got home.  Riding the tram home—alone, thankfully—with my raging hardon was such tantalizing foreplay that I practically exploded without touching myself seconds after walking through the front door.

            After that, I walked to the bedroom and masturbated in my mirror.  Watching my bloated, muscular, hung self to get off was a charging, erotic thrill.

            Having a permanent erection lowered my refractory period down to essentially nothing.  So, after the first two explosions, I decided to take my time with the next one.  I filled the bathtub with hot water, and slowly lowered myself in.  My giant muscles filled the bathtub—it had never felt so small before.  The hot water darkened my already dark body hair, making it cling to my body, further highlighting my musculature and making me appear even more hairy than I already was.  Soapy water pooled in the grooves of my abs and my cum gutters.  The slick liquid lubricated my insatiable cock, and I came three times that bath, and I had to add hot water five times to keep the temperature up.

            As soon as I’d dripped dry, I felt particularly daring, so I went out back—completely naked—and lay in the grass, staring up at the sky.  There weren’t any fences in the backyard, so anyone who happened to look could have seen me enjoying the grass and the sun caressing every inch of my exposed, naked flesh as I rolled back and forth in my splendor.  I didn’t even touch my cock.  I just ran my hands all over my furry muscles, tweaked my nipples, massaged my deeply etched abs.  The orgasm took care of itself.

            I had known intellectually that this erection would not subside until Danny used his app.  However, by my sixth orgasm, I more fully knew that no amount of attention was going to satiate me, so I decided to try to go about the rest of my day, doing my best to ignore it.

            Surprisingly, the erection had some benefits.  I could rest my guitar on it if I played standing up.  So, I walked around the room, resting the body of the guitar on my cock.  In the last few months, I’d mastered a small number of songs, and I played all of them.  My heightened libido also made topology erotic in a way that it never had before.  Every torus was an orifice for me to penetrate; every expanding shape were my inflating muscles; every cut or tear were clothes shredding off of my naked body.  I’d torn threw some leftovers for lunch before my bath, but soon I was hungry for another one.  Cooking would’ve been a bit tricky, so I ordered in—for the first time in months.  The delivery guy, when he showed up, took one look at my heaving, muscular perfection, my mountainous erection obvious through the towel I’d tried to wrap around my waist, and he gave me the meal for free.

            It was the best day I’d had since we’d moved into this new neighborhood.

            When Danny came home, I practically pounced on him at the front door, dragging him to the bedroom.  I destroyed his clothes as I tore them off his body and threw him onto the bed.  I lubed myself up nice and good, lubed him up even better, and positioned myself just outside his asshole.

            “Ready?” I asked.

            “I’m ready to try,” he answered, a little fear causing his voice to quaver, but his six and a half inches firmly showing his eagerness.

            I tried to get my cock in, but it was just too thick.  I tried to open him up with my fingers, I tried rimming him thoroughly, I even tried holding him open manually while inserting my footlong appendage.  It was like trying to shove a zucchini into a thimble.  It just was not going to happen.

            The absolute magnitude of my cock fully hit me, and I erupted all over his ass.

            At first, he had no idea why I was cumming—as far as he was concerned, no sex had happened.  But when he realized I came by how turned on I was by the fact that I couldn’t fit, he flipped around so we were kneeling next to each other on the bed.  “Look at that,” he announced, pointing to our cocks.  His was red and ready for sex, mine was raw from a day’s attention and still drooling from its most recent orgasm.  “You’re twice as big as me.  I used to have the bigger cock, and now your cock is practically twice as big as mine.”  My orgasm, which hadn’t quite finished, reintensified as I realized that the monster genitals attached to me were, in fact, almost twice the size of my husband’s.  Powerless to the sexual energy shocking my cock, I fell forward onto my elbows, practically encouraging Danny to get behind me and push into my ass.

            “Big man is too big for his little husband, is he?” Danny teased.  It felt so good to have him fucking me.  I know our sex life had been regular as clockwork and intense as hell these past months, but this felt different. This felt like it was for me, not for him.  “Such a big cock.  Too big for my frail little hole.  Big man is too big.”  I was panting heavily.  I didn’t know if I was on the edge of another orgasm or still in the throes of the last one.  Either way, I didn’t care.  “Good thing I have such a little cock, or I couldn’t fuck your giant, massive ass.  And that would be such a shame.  You deserve to have every inch of your ass worshipped.”  Danny intensified his thrusting, and soon he too was lost in his orgasm, inarticulate and stentorian exultations escaping his chest.

            When his orgasm subsided, I’d expected our adventure to be over, but instead, he withdrew himself and flipped me over so my cock pointed straight up.  It was still erect, obviously, and Danny began licking it up and down.  My balls were too big for him to fit in his mouth, but he licked those as well.  Up and down my shaft, teasing the head, licking every last exposed millimeter of my erection, attempting and failing to take its immense girth into his mouth.  He teased me with the stubble on his cheeks and chin, and he caressed the head of my cock so expertly with his lips that I came again—or still?—desperately trying to catch my breath and bursting in every direction at once.

            Afterwards, as we were spooning and I had my breath back, I said, “I have warmed up to this body.  I don’t like how I got it, and I don’t trust the guys you work with.  But, I see this body’s appeal.”

            “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

            “If we can agree that all changes in the future are my choice, and if we can agree that your co-workers never set foot in this house again, and if we can agree that I have the right to go back to my real body whenever I want, then I’m open to keeping this body.  On a trial basis.”

            Danny rolled on top of me and covered my face with kisses.  “Thank you thank you thank you!”

            “I’m going to need some new clothes, because I refuse to be housebound anymore.”

            “Of course.”

            “And we might need to hire a cook.  I’ll let you know.”


            “Well,” I pointed at my cock, still erect and stretching for the ceiling, “A, I can’t cook with this thing in my way, and B, I kinda want to try life with a permanent footlong erection.  At least for a little while.”


            “The more I fight these changes, the less I like them.  If I lean into them, though, they’re really fun.  There are guys who are even more muscular than me.  There are guys with smaller waists than me.  Guys who are taller than me.  Hairier than me.  Even a handful of guys with bigger cocks than me.  Besides,” I added, tickling Danny a little bit, “without a behemoth body and a 24-hour erection, how could I be Rip Everhard?”

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Chapter 12

            The biggest challenge in finding new clothes was the disparity between my taut waist and my massive chest, thighs, and ass.  However, I learned from Youtube videos that there are specialty belts for just such an occasion.  So, I was buying pants with a 36- or 38-inch waist, and just strapping them down.  I also became a large fan of lycra and leggings.

            Once I had clothes that fit my new body, life returned to a new normal.  If you can call life as a 260-pound muscle god with a permanent erection normal.  Out of sheer necessity, I figured out how to hold my cock down along my hip with my new specialty belts.  If I wanted to go for a run or do a workout, I had to strap it down, or it would come out to play, but there were special harnesses for men with similar problems.  With those tricks mastered, rather than a nuisance or an obstruction, it felt like everywhere I went I had a dirty little secret.  Of course, with a bulge so huge, my cock was neither little nor a secret.  But, if I wore a longer shirt and left it untucked, it could go unobserved.  When I was just around the neighborhood, I didn’t do this because it obscured just how tight my waist was, but when I went into town, it was the smarter move.

            September turned into October, and my tomatoes and spring vegetables had died long ago, but it was now time to plant carrots, broccoli, and onions, so my gardening resumed full swing.  Since it was too chilly to garden shirtless, I didn’t draw as large as a crowd.  Besides, with the cold shoulder I gave all our neighbors, they didn’t dare stare.  When a guy with shoulders as broad as mine gives you a cold shoulder, you feel the chill.

            I also took more opportunities to leave that twisted little planned community.  I signed up for guitar lessons at the local community college—every Tuesday and Friday.  Even though the people there were half my age, the campus was so beautiful and it was so far removed from the twisted incestuousness of the planned community, I really liked being there.  I even started working out at the gym there despite the fact that I didn’t really need it.  These muscles wanted to be used, so use them I did.  And I outsized these teens and twenty-somethings, making them look like prepubescent children. 

            I even made a handful of friends, most especially Gina, the woman who ran the facility.  How we met was a bit embarrassing, but it eventually became a funny story.  She first approached me because my erection broke free of its harness and my obvious bulge was on full display.  She wanted to make sure I wasn’t there to sexually assault the students—a man in his 30s, with a giant erection, in a college gym?  Yeah, I looked like a perv.  Twenty minutes into her interrogation, she realized I wasn’t a threat and began hitting on me.  As the conversation continued, she saw the wedding ring, so she dialed back the flirting.  And as the conversation continued even further, I mentioned, “my husband Danny,” and soon we were just chatting like girlfriends.  After that, chats with Gina were a routine part of my visits to the gym.  We’d hang out for a half hour before or after my workout, sometimes grabbing a meal.  Once I was established as a non-threatening, married gay man, she was glad to have the company of an adult, as all of her employees were teenagers of varying trustworthiness.  She even introduced me to her roommate Donna and her circle of friends.  They convinced me to apply for a few refresher classes in the spring, get my skills back up to snuff and see if I would want to apply for my MS at one of the local colleges. 

            Now that I had a life outside the planned community and Danny and ChorrTek, I felt more like myself again.

            It was soon early November, and Danny’s birthday was coming up—the first Saturday of the month.  Over dinner on Wednesday, I suggested we do a romantic getaway somewhere to celebrate.  Just the two of us.

            “Sounds great,” he beamed.  “But not this weekend.  The guys got tickets to a 49ers game as a birthday surprise.”

            “You hate football,” I said, confused.  “You used to tease me for watching it.  You called it professional headbutting.”

            Danny shrugged.  “They’re being nice.  They know I like baseball. It’s not unreasonable to think I also like football.”

            “Well, you enjoy yourself.  I’ll see if Gina and Donna are free for a movie or something.”

            Danny stared at me.  “The guys got a ticket for you too.”

            I shook my head.  “No thank you,” I said in a comical voice, dragging out my vowels.  “None of that sounds even slightly appealing.  The traffic.  The 49ers.  The guys.”

            “I don’t know why you hate them so much,” Danny said for the thirtieth time since we moved here.  “They really like you.  Every time I go out with them, they ask me to invite you.  It’s embarrassing all the excuses I have to make.”

            “More embarrassing than being stripped naked and treated like a game by a group of men you barely know?” I rejoindered.

            “Okay, fine, no.  But you’re ignoring the corporate culture at ChorrTek.  If you don’t socialize with your colleagues, you don’t look like a team player.”

            I groaned.  “I don’t work for ChorrTek,” I reminded him for the sixtieth time since we moved here.

            “And what if I want to spend my birthday with my husband?”

            “I’d love to spend the day with you.  I suggested a whole romantic weekend.  But I’m not spending the day with those entitled douches.”

            “What do I do with the extra ticket?”

            “I don’t care,” I said honestly.

            “These are excellent seats.”

            “Invite Mr. Davis,” I suggested.  “Use the trip to butter him up.”

            “And what do I tell the guys to convince them you can’t come to my birthday?”

            “That I hate them and don’t want to spend time in their company.”

            “Be serious.”

            I rolled my neck in frustration because I was serious.  Since the truth wasn’t going to work, I suggested, “Tell them that I hate football.”

            “They already know you love football.”

            “Then tell them I’m a Rams fan.  They’ll get it.”

            “I know you’d have fun if you just…”

            I pounded my fist on the table.  “I don’t want to fight.  Every time we talk about your co-workers, it turns into a fight.  I love you.  I want you to have a good birthday.  But I refuse to spend time with them.  They don’t see me as a person.  They see me as a novelty at best, your accessory at worst.”

            “I’ll tell them you’re a Rams fan,” Danny acquiesced.  We sat in silence for a moment.  “I’m sorry,” he added.  He reached out and put his hand over my clenched fist.

            With that small act of affection, the tension broke, and we went back to dinner.

            If I’d known what was to follow, I might have just gone to the 49ers game.

            When I came home on Friday, I found the house decorated from top to bottom.  In the front hall, there was a huge banner that read, “Happy Birthday, Dan the Man!”

            Every instinct told me to turn around and leave, but I foolishly pushed further into the house.

            “Hello?” I called out.  “Is somebody there?”

            Alan and Gary emerged from the kitchen.  Gary grinned widely, calling, “Mr. Rip Everhard.  Welcome home, man.”

            “How’d you guys get in?  The door was locked.”

            Alan held up a key.  “Dan gave me a spare in case of emergencies.  I live right next door.”

            “What’s going on here?” I knew the answer, but I was going to make them say it.

            “Duh,” Gary said.  “It’s your husband’s birthday!  We’re throwing him a surprise party.”

            “He’s turning 33,” I protested.  “Who throws a surprise birthday party for a grown man on his 33rd birthday?”

            “When the football game plan blew up in our faces, we had to do something,” Alan answered.

            “But he’s going to the football game.”

            “He explained this is a Rams household,” Gary said.  “We aren’t going to drag you two the shrine of your enemies.”

            “So, we threw those plans away and came up with this one,” Alan continued.  “He thinks we ducked out early to get supplies for the game tomorrow.”

            “You gonna help us set up?” Gary asked.

            “I just came home to change,” I lied.  “I have plans.”

            Gary booed.  “Cancel them.  This is your old man’s birthday party.”  He walked up to me and punched me on the shoulder.  “Come on, stud.”  He shook his hand, having hurt himself on my solidness.

            “I’m going to go,” I insisted.

            Gary laughed.  “I don’t think so.”  He reached into his pocked and pulled out Danny’s phone.  “I swapped Dan’s phone for mine at lunch.”  Holding it between his thumb and index finger, he dangled it in front of me, swinging it back and forth.  “It’ll be more fun if I don’t have to use this.”

            I snatched at the phone, but Gary tossed it over to Alan.

            “Spoilsport,” Alan said, opening the app and tapping a button.  I froze in place.  I could still move my face and head, but the rest of me was a statue.

            Gary strolled over to Alan and took the phone out of his hand.  “Are you going to play nice, Rip?”

            I nodded, panicking about what they would do to me if I didn’t cooperate.

            “Good.”  Gary unfroze me, but I stayed still.  “Now, go get changed.  Something revealing for your man.  And when you’re done, help us finish putting up these decorations and laying out the refreshments.  Dan will be getting out of work in about an hour, and we have a lot of work to do.”

            Swallowing hard, I walked back to the bedroom to get changed.

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Chapter 13

            Danny absolutely loved his party.  He didn’t see it coming and was genuinely surprised.  He thought I’d had some part in planning it, and no matter how many times I told him no, he just accepted that I’d planned it this the whole time. 

            At least 20 people showed up.  Even Mr. Davis showed up, and, as everyone gushed, Mr. Davis never comes to these sorts of functions. 

            As soon as Danny was settled and enjoying himself, I pulled him aside, and whispered, “I will ride this out in the bedroom.  Love you.”

            I went to kiss him to end the conversation before he could even respond, but he stopped my lips and said, “Please, stay.  It’s a lovely party.  It’ll be rude if you just hide out.  We’re the hosts.  Please, just stay? You can hide in the corner even, as long as you stay.”

            Rolling my eyes, I acquiesced. If I didn’t have Danny’s blessing his coworkers would track me down and make it even worse for me.

            I tried to get out of it as much as possible, but everyone kept dragging me back in to the festivities.  A lot of loud, raucous stories.  A lot of in-jokes I didn’t understand.  A lot of drunk assholes.

            I was in hell.

            When it came time for presents, Gary made a big announcement.  “Dan the Man, my man, the man of the hour.  I think you’re going to love what we got you, but it’s big.  I will need some help carrying it.  Rip, would you lend me one of your huge hands?”

            Fully knowing he could just make me help him if I didn’t want to, I went without making an argument.

            I’d expected us to go outside to get whatever it was from Gary’s car, but instead, we went further into the house, into my bedroom.  Once inside the room, Gary locked the door and pulled out Danny’s phone.

            I should have seen that coming.

            Gary looked me up and down like a prospective buyer inspecting a car.  “Not that I’m gay, mind you, but I get it.  I see the appeal.  If you’re into men, commit to that and be into men.  If I was into dudes, I’d want a bull like you at home.  Someone dominant and alpha, dripping in testosterone, someone so totally manly that no other men would dare approach him.”  Gary shook the phone again.  “Of course, I’d still have to keep a saddle on my stallion, just as Dan has.  You may have the strength and the presence, but he has the dominance and power.”

            “I don’t know what you think goes on in my marriage…” I started, but Gary interrupted me.

            “You’re going to want to strip,” Gary commanded.  “Or you’ll ruin that outfit.”  As I undressed, Gary continued.  “Earlier today, I took a prolonged peek through Dan’s phone, and I learned a thing or two.  Like most red-blooded American men, Dan’s got some naughty photos on his phone.  Most are of you, stud, but even our fine, upstanding Mr. Eberhart has an interesting smattering of porn on his phone.”

            “And?  You trying to make me jealous?”  By then, I was completely naked.  “I couldn’t care less if his phone was half porn.”

            “Not my point.  Dan has some very specific fantasies that even you in your improved state can’t fulfill.  For instance…” Gary tapped the screen of the phone, and I felt my body flex.  Gary seemed to be moving further away.  I soon realized I was stretching up further.  I’d half-expected to grow so tall that my head hit the ceiling, but when I stopped growing, I was probably only three inches taller.  But three inches all at once is utterly disorienting.  “Dan the Man likes tall guys.  As our Dan is a pretty tall himself, I figure 6’6” ought to be a good place to start.  I also know from my little perusal that our dear Dan likes men who can dominate him.”  Gary tapped the screen a few more times.

            Every muscle in my body clenched.  This time, I felt it in my legs first.  They swelled and ballooned, throwing off my balance until Gary let spread my legs further apart.  My calves grew harder and denser, swelling out into a rounded, hardened heart shape.  I could feel my ass intensify with muscle, thickening and hardening into to mighty stacks of muscle.  I could feel their striations just standing there.  My abs thickened and tightened until each looked like a deck of playing cards standing out from my torso—each of the now eight of them.  My lats spread further, causing my arms to move further to the side, even further from lying straight at my sides.  Not to be outdone, my biceps then inflated with muscle, heavy and thick—still my best feature—each one pushing itself further from my sides until I felt like a cannonball had grown from within them.  As soon as I saw the realities of my arms, my shoulders burgeoned and stretched even further, my deltoids engorging and growing more spherically large until I couldn’t help but see them in my peripheral vision.  I could even feel my neck and traps thicken and swell.  I thought it was all done, but then my pecs rounded out into full view. Looking down, I had to lean over to see past them they were sticking out so far.  I could even feel my nipples being tucked under the hanging pec shelf they had grown so huge.

            “Lovely,” Gary said.  “Absolutely lovely.  Now you’re exactly twice the man your husband is.  310 if you wish to know the exact number.  Of course,” Gary paused, “I know how much he liked that surreal superhero physique thing you had going on, so…”  I could feel my waist pulling in again.  It almost felt like there was a corset made of granite tightening itself around my insides, but it was just my abs.  “30 inches.  Just how he liked it.  And you can vacuum that down to 28 if you really want to blow his mind.  But that size has to go somewhere.”  Another tap on the phone, and I could feel my pecs jut out even further.  My chest, already pendulous and intimidating, swelled into two massive shields of beef protruding from my chest.  “I took three inches from your waist, so I decided to add that to your chest.  I think Dan will get a real kick out of that.”  Even from where I was standing, I could see the massive muscle monster I’d become in the closet mirror standing back.  My chest looked like two massive furry globes on my chest, especially hanging above such a narrow waist.  "And look at that,” Gary said, half under his breath.  “Your quads are just a hair bigger than your waist.  Fuck, Rip.  You’re thick.”

            I tried my best to suppress my rage because Gary literally could make me do anything, but I couldn’t hold it all back, and a growl escaped my throat, followed by a, “Let me guess, now you’re going to give me a two-foot cock.”  My voice sounded lower than I remembered it being.

            “No,” Gary said.  “That’s Jack and Jon P.’s thing.  Besides, with the stories Dan tells us at work, we know that you’re plenty big.  We’ve all seen the chair pillow, stud.”  He paused for a moment, thinking.  “But, we can amp up the macho factor.  That we can do.”  He navigated to a new menu, not even looking up at me.  As I stood there, my balls grew heavier, fuller, leaden.  I cold almost feel the veins and arteries around my balls feed super-sized doses of testosterone all through my body.  As it snaked its way through my system, my muscles firmed and grew even more dense, taking on a pumped look, my striations and veins more apparent.  My body hair coarsened, thickened, and darkened.  My Adam’s apple stuck out further.  And my facial features grew more intense, most especially my eyebrow ridge, cheek bones, and jaw, all solidifying into an even more masculine visage.

            “Are we done now?” I asked, and a bass voice lower than even just a minute ago boomed out of me.

            “Not yet,” Gary said.  He grabbed a bag from the foot of the closet and tossed it at my feet.  “We put this in here before you came home.  I told you to change into it for the party, but I guess you didn’t see it.  Put it on.”

            I tentatively opened the bag.  Inside was a large leather harness, a pair of leather short shorts (with an absurd pouch in front and in back), a leather biker hat, a pair of leather boots, and a whip.  I just stared at it for a second.

            “Put it on,” Gary demanded.  “I don’t like asking twice.”

            I put on the shorts first.  It was hard negotiating my new mass, but I was able to maneuver enough.  They barely fit over my massive quads, and while they did stretch to accommodate my ass and balls, they sagged heavily, not enough waist to support their distended shape.  My ever-erect cock kept trying to creep its way over the waistline, but I was eventually able to coerce it down and tuck it into my hip.  The shorts were tight enough that one good sneeze would cause me to burst out of them, especially with my newly enlarged balls.

            The harness was nearly impossible.  I could get it over my head, but my arms, chest and shoulders were just too massive for me to put on by myself.  Gary had to come over and strap me in.

            “This was the biggest size they had, Rip, and it’s too small for your massiveness.  We are at the biggest setting here, big fella, and you are just barely strapped in,” he said, cinching me in.  “But you’re in.”

            I felt overly confined, but I looked completely naked.  My already gargantuan chest was being pushed up and out, making it look even more shelf-like and titanic.

            Given the tightness of my harness and shorts, Gary also had to put on the boots for me.  “Next time,” he said, “you’re getting dressed first, then I’m growing you.”  He propped the leather hat on my head and patted my cheek.  “You look like a fucking alpha stud in that, Rip.  Dan will cream himself.  Now, go out there and work him over.”  Gary put the whip in my hand.

            "I don’t know how to use this,” I admitted.

            “It’s a prop, Rip.  Don’t overthink this.  Just go out there and dominate your husband like you do every night.”

            “I don’t…”

            Gary interrupted me.  “Just do what you normally do.  The only difference this time is that there’s an audience.”

            “I don’t…”

            Gary tapped a few buttons, and snarl spread itself across my face.

            I reared up and tore the locked door of its hinge as easily as I would tear a page from a wall calendar.  I banged into the doorjamb on the way out, taking some of the frame with me.  I stormed down the hallway into the den, and found Danny sitting in the middle of the room in a chair, everyone—even Mr. Davis—sitting in a circle around him.  I paused in the doorway of the den and just stood there, posing in my magnificence, breathing heavily.

            Danny’s face lit up and turned bright red.  “Oh my god, RT, you look so good.”

            “Who’s RT?” I asked.  “I’m Rip Everhard.  And you exist only to service me.  Now get over here.”

            “Yes sir, Mr. Everhard,” Danny said, complying. 

            When he got over to me, I tossed the whip to the side.  “Lesser men need weapons.  I am the weapon.”  I grabbed him roughly by the neck, and shoved his face into my armpit.  “This is a man’s armpit,” I bellowed.  “A real man’s armpit,” I rubbed his face in the hollow cavern that was my bushy armpit.  “Scrape yourself on the fur.  Choke on its scent.”  When I heard Danny actually choke, I pulled him away from my armpit and I saw his smiling face.  “Obedient little thing.”  I sneered at him.  “Suck this tit,” I commanded, pointing to my left nipple.  Danny’s mouth was on my nipple before I’d even finished the command, desperately trying to appease my commands.  His body pressed close against mine; I could feel his cock grow hard in his pants.  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, boy?”

            “Yes sir, Mr. Everhard,” Danny said, a small quaver in his voice.

            “You don’t get to fully enjoy yourself until I say you do.”  I shoved him down onto his knees and shoved his face into my crotch.  “This,” I said, running his face up and down the length of my cock, “this is a real man’s cock.  And these,” I barked, rubbing his face back and forth in the bulge made by my balls, “are a real man’s balls.  You, pathetic twig of a weakling, don’t deserve my awe-inspiring might.”

            “No sir, Mr. Everhard,” Danny said.

            I grabbed Danny, who was still kneeling on the floor, with my right hand and with one fluid motion slung him over my shoulder.  “You light little pissant.  How can you call yourself a man?  I’ve taken shits that weigh more than you.  I’ve shot loads that were more substantial than you.”

            “Sorry sir, Mr. Everhard,” Danny said.

            “Let’s get you out of these clothes and see what your little peanut-sized pecker looks like.”  I walked back to the bedroom, and the party stayed in the den.  In the bedroom, I threw Danny to the bed, and he bounced.

            Now that we were alone, Danny said, “Role play?  Really?  In front of men you claim you hate?”

            I picked up the door from where it was on the floor and slammed it into the hole I’d made in the wall.

            “On your knees in front of me, you little runt,” I boomed

            “Yes, tiger,” Danny said excitedly.

            Once he was positioned in front of me, I ordered, “Now let me out of these confining shorts.  A real man’s cock needs to fly free, daring the world to gaze at it or look away in terror.”

            Wordlessly, Danny smiled and tugged at my shorts until my cock sprung free.  I grabbed its meaty heft in my right hand, and slammed it into Danny’s face.

            “That hurt,” Danny said.  “RT, stop it.  That actually hurt. I think it’s going to leave a bruise.”

            I slammed my cock into his face again.  “It’s supposed to, worm.”

            Danny seemed of two minds.  On the one hand, he was in danger of me actually doing him bodily harm.  But on the other, his husband had a cock so big and thick it was a literal cudgel.

            When I struck him with my cock this time, swinging my hips so it struck harder, Danny decided enough was enough and turned to the bed.  “Stop it, RT.  This isn’t fun anymore.”

            “Did I say you could get up?  Did I say you could go to the bed?”

            Danny shifted on the bed, realizing that he’d sat on his phone.  When he looked down at it, he whispered, “Fuck.  Of course.”  He tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly, I felt utterly ridiculous and mortified.

            “Danny, are you okay?” I asked, rushing over to him.  “Did I really hurt you?”

            “You would’ve if you kept going.  That thing’s a baseball bat,” he said, pointing to my cock. “Why’d you turn your sexual aggression up to the maximum setting?”

            “I did no such thing.  This was the guys’ present to you.  I had to comply.”

            Danny looked confused.  “Wait, are you saying that the guys did this to you?”

            “Gary specifically.”

            “I’m so sorry.  I thought that, since you helped arrange the surprise party, you were in on this.  I thought it was some sort of game.”

            “I had nothing to do with the party.  And this was all a game to them.  They’re a bunch of kids with magnifying glasses, and I’m an anthill.”

            “I don’t get it.  Why would they want to do this to you?”

            “You really don’t get it, darling?  It’s the same reason straight guys like to play the biggest, baddest, most muscular video game characters.  It’s a fantasy.  This is the shit they’d do to their bodies if they had the ChorrTek app installed in them.”

            “If they wanted the app, I’m sure they could convince the company and just get it installed themselves.”

            “They’d never do that, Danny.  Because then anyone who got control of the right phone could make them do whatever they wanted.  They’d essentially be zombies.  There’s a huge flaw in the app.  It’s why it’ll never go to mass market.  It’s also why they use it on their wives.  Keep them dumb.  Keep them docile.  Keep them compliant.  Keep them with big breasts, and big butts, and tiny waists.  They probably all stare at me because their sex drives have been cranked through the roof.  But no kids either.  Isn’t it weird that with all these married couples in the community, there isn’t a single kid anywhere about?  They probably keep their wives sterile so they don’t have to wear a condom or hear about period cramps.  They leave their wives hollowed out husks with no complaints or independent thoughts.  That’s the app you had installed in me.”

            The events of the past few months flew by my eyes in a flash.  A sudden cold chill went through me.  Those four months I was afraid to leave the house.  I’m not a shut in, even if I’m afraid of Danny’s co-workers. I went to the office to confront him about the app, and by the time I left, I had a sudden change of heart.  “You’ve been doing it to me too, haven’t you?” I asked.

            “Doing what?”

            “Controlling my thoughts and actions.  I’ve had an erection for over six weeks, Danny.  What sane man would choose that?  You must’ve put that desire in my head.”

            Danny looked hurt.

            In a litany of accusations, I ran over every strange, bizarre, uncharacteristic decision I’d made since we’d move into the house.  “At the time I did these things, they seemed perfectly natural, like they came from me.  But now that I’ve experienced Gary turning me into that sadistic BDSM master, I don’t know.  Those choices felt like they were coming from me too.  It felt like I was deciding to say those things.  Do those things.”

            “I never, not once, changed your personality or put thoughts into your head.”

            “So, my being a shut in?  That wasn’t you?  My suddenly deciding to try life as big as a bodybuilder?  That wasn’t you?  It really seems like you’ve been fucking with my mind whenever it suits you.”

            “I haven’t.  I swear.”  Danny rushed over to me and pulled up a log in the ChorrTek app.  “Look.  Here’s every change anyone’s ever made on you,” he scrolled through the list.  “I never made you do things.  And I never controlled your personality.  I didn’t even know that was an option.  And even if I did know that was an option, only a complete monster would do that to his husband.  I’d never!  Here, let me change you back.”  Danny tapped a few buttons, but as soon as he finished, the phone emitted two buzzing sounds.  “What the hell?”  Danny tried again, but it just produced the same buzzing sounds.  “The error message says I can’t change you back for 72 hours.”

            Of course.  “Try adding a pound of muscle.  Just one.” I said.  Danny tried, and it worked.  Of course, on my 310-pound frame, one pound of muscle was barely noticeable.  “Correction.  You can’t make me smaller for 72 hours.”

            “Why…” Danny started, but I interrupted him.

            “Gary must know you make me smaller sometimes.  This way, you can’t.  He’s making decisions for you now too.”

            “Then shouldn’t your aggression be stuck at max too?”

            “If you had no control over my aggression, I might actually exert some sort of control over you, and Gary couldn’t have that,” I said.  “That gives me an idea.”  I twisted my face into a scowl and hyperventilated for a few seconds until my chest was heaving.  My shorts around my thighs, my footlong cock pointed straight ahead, I marched back into the den.  They stared at my huge body with fear and awe.  “Alright, ladies,” I shouted.  “I declared this house the Rip Everhard Fuck Zone.  Unless you’re ready to worship at the mighty cock of Rip Everhard and feel its power deep inside your worthless, pathetic asses, get the fuck out of my house.”

            Before the clock could mark a second’s passing, all but one had fled the house.  Unsurprisingly, Gary stayed behind.

            “I thought you were a little queer,” I said.  “Crawl over here and suck this cock.  Get it nice and wet so it’ll be ready when I fuck you dead.”

            “Sadistic sex god is a good look for you, Rip.”

            “I don’t think you heard me, pipsqueak.  Get down on the floor, slither your way over here, and learn what a real cock tastes like.”

            “I’d rather not.”

            “What did you say, bitch?  I could crush you with one toe.”

            “Dan would never let you hurt me.  He’ll stop you before you go too far.”

            I took two steps closer to Gary.  I was practically on top of him.  My cock poked into his stomach.  My cock was harder than his midsection.  “Do you really want to take that chance?”  I shoved my hips forward, pressing my cock further into his stomach.

            His faces darkened, and I could tell he was running through the risks and benefits of continuing to challenge me.  After a second of intense though and focus, crumbling, defeated, and pale, Gary fled the house.

            When the front door closed, I collapsed to the floor, shaking the house a little bit.

            Danny came out to see me.  “You got everyone to go?  Good.”

            From my pile on the floor, I said, “You really didn’t fuck with my mind?  It was me who didn’t want to leave the house?  It was me who decided to try life at a bigger size?”

            “I would never do that to you, RT.  Never.”  He came over to me and lay down, facing me.  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders as far around as they would go.  It was in this position that I fully realized just how massive I was in comparison to my husband.  It felt like there was a third person in the embrace with us: him, me, and my muscles.  My muscles pushed him so far that it felt like he was barely holding me and halfway across the room.  Next to my over-developed and beefy arms, his arms looked like a stick figure.  Pressed up against my hypertrophic and deeply-striated chest, his chest looked flat as a wall.  Add the cock in between our bodies, and I felt even more gigantic.  As much as I hated to admit it, part of me could seriously get off on being this much bigger than my husband, and that thought threatened to fill me with shame because I knew it was coming from me.

            “You don’t secretly wish I was Rip Everhard, do you?”

            “Do I like porn with leather and BDSM, yeah, you already knew that.  Do I think you’re sexy this way?  Yes, I honestly do.  But that’s because it’s you.  I didn’t marry Rip Everhard.  I married RT Wells.  I love my tiger cub.”


            “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner, but you were right and I was wrong.  This place is fucked up and weird, and we’ve got to get out of here.  I’ll go to the office tomorrow, get my stuff, print out my letter of resignation, and we’ll pack up and move.  We can stay at my sister’s in San Jose until we figure out a long-term plan.”

            “Do you really have to go to the office?  Can’t we just pack up and go?”

            “I’ve got some important stuff at the office—like our passports.  I was planning that romantic trip for us.  Also, I’m cleaning out my petty cash.  There’s close to $2,500 in there.  With the letter of resignation that I plan on writing, I don’t really expect my last paycheck.”

            “Go tonight.”

            “They have the office cleaned on Friday nights.  If I go tomorrow, there won’t be anyone there.  Easier to steal if no one sees me do it.”

            “Fine.  Tomorrow.  First thing.”  I was still in a huddle on the den floor.  “Then we’ll pack and go to bed.  Now help me out of this fetish crap.”

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Chapter 14

            The next morning, while Danny went to ChorrTek for the last time, I got us ready to leave the planned community.  Thankfully, I had one pair of jeans that just—just—came up and over my thighs and ass.  We’d also discovered that, although he couldn’t make me smaller, Danny could still turn off the constant erection.  My guess is that Gary didn’t know that feature was turned on; he just thought a real alpha bro like me could get it hard at will.  I also had one super-stretchy zip-up polo that still fit—barely—but I was in such a rush to go, I would have done all the packing naked. 

            I packed up our clothes and a few keepsakes we couldn’t live without.  My 311-pound bulk slowed me down until I figured out that I had to walk deliberately and give myself extra berth and clearance.  Once I figured that out, it was just a matter of deciding what to take and what to leave behind.  I wanted to pack light, but I also never wanted to come back to this godforsaken neighborhood.  When I finished packing, I threw our bags into the back seat of my car, and then sat on a chair in the foyer waiting for Danny to get back home. 

            I spent most of that morning trying to balance all of my bulk into the chair and staring at my phone.  I was pretty sure Danny would call on his way out of the office.  But in case he was in more of a rush than that, I would also peek out the front window every now and again to wait for his car.

            An agonizing hour dripped by—the slowest hour of my life.

            Thankfully, after that overlong, over-difficult wait, Danny’s car pulled into the driveway. I ran outside to meet him, not even bothering to lock the door behind me, but from the car, he shook his head and pointed for me to go back inside.  I could not read the look on his face.

            I went into the foyer, and when he came into the house, I asked, “You okay, darling?”

            “There’s one last thing we have to do before we go,” he said somberly.

            “Burn the house to the ground?” I replied, trying to lighten the mood.

            In a deadly serious tone, Danny announced, “You’re going to have to fuck Mr. Davis.”

            All the blood drained out of my face.  My mouth grew as dry as the Sahara, so chalky I couldn’t even muster the saliva to talk.  I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and Danny followed me, explaining the whole way.

            “Mr. Davis was there, in my office, waiting for me.  I don’t know how he knew I’d show up, but he was just there waiting for me like a Bond villain.  He had an amazing time at the party, and he kept raving about you.”

            I poured a glass of water down my throat. It didn’t begin to slake my thirst.

            “Apparently, he’s always been a little bi-curious, and now that he’s seen a man like you, he’s beyond curious.”

            After my third glass of water, I turned around to Danny and snarled, “So, naturally, you offered him your husband.”

            “No, it was nothing like that.”

            “Then what was it like?” I said, throwing my glass at the wall, shattering it into a thousand shards.

            The words cascaded out of Danny.  “After he hinted that you were the hottest man he’d ever seen, he finally noticed I had an envelope in my hand.  Addressed to him.  He opened it right then and there and read it.  He was furious, RT.  Furious!  He said that if I quit the way I was planning to he would ruin me.  He would make sure I never worked at any major corporation ever again.  Even most of the smaller one.  And he can do it, RT.  He’s done it to other guys before.”

            “Who cares if you never work at a major corporation again?” I shouted.

            “Well, you should, for one.  After all those years of sacrifice, and working two jobs because the middle school didn’t pay enough.  If he ruins me, all those years will have been for nothing.”

            “If it means we get out of here, then I say that is a damn fair price.”  I moved to leave the kitchen, but Danny got in my way.

            “But, if we do him this one thing—this one last thing—he’ll promote me to VP of advertising of the whole New York branch.  We’d still get to move—across the country away from these people—but I’d still have a job, and all those years won’t have been for nothing.”

            “But you’d still work for this company that doesn’t see me as a logically proper person, Danny.  And if they don’t see me as a person, what does that say about their customers?  Their employees?”

            “They care about their employees,” Danny insisted.

            “So much so that they’re extorting you to stay at this soulless company and give them your husband to boot.”

            “That’s not what’s happening here.  You’re blowing this all out of proportion.  It’s just one time.  And it’s just sex.”

            I never expected to hear those words come out of my husband’s mouth.

            “It’s not even cheating,” Danny continued. “You have my permission.  It’s like a hall pass.”

            Even in this mighty, muscular, masculine mountain of a body, heartbreak hurts.

            “You’re my husband,” I said, trying to hold back the tears.  I could feel my body quivering.  “You’re my husband, Danny.  You’re not supposed to offer me up to these people.  You’re supposed to protect me from these people.”

            “The faster we do this, the faster we can get the hell out of this neighborhood.  Mr. Davis said he’d be coming by right after he finished up with a few calls.  We can be on the road by lunchtime.”

            I had never felt so alone in the world.  I didn’t know what to do.

            “Now, unfortunately, he has heard some office gossip and thinks you have a 14-inch cock, so first thing’s first.”  Danny pulled out his phone and began tapping away at the ChorrTek app.

            “Don’t.  Danny.  Please.  You’re acting like one of those guys.  Like Gary.”  But it was too late.  I could feel my cock swell out a little longer and impossibly thicker.  Even though it remained flaccid, my cock now looked bigger, thicker, and longer than most men’s do fully erect.  No matter what I wore, I was going to have an overly large, overly obvious bulge in them.

            “And while we’re here,” Danny said, and I felt my balls grow even heavier, threatening the front of my pants.  It looked like I had a cucumber and two baseballs shoved down the front of my pants.  As if to prove their enormity, just as my balls finished growing, the zipper in my jeans snapped.  “Don’t worry.  Once the 72-hour clock has counted down, we’ll make those more manageable.”

            The impossible weight pulling down felt like there was a heavy dumbbell strapped to my crotch.  “Danny, please stop.”

            “Now, he really liked the idea of you being twice my size, and he implied he’d like you to be twice his size.  But Mr. Davis is a heavy-set man.  So, twice his weight would be something like 440. Let’s make it 450 to be safe.”

            “That’s 140 pounds, Danny.  That’s a 140 pounds of muscle you’re going to…”  The intense, deep-muscle flex prevented me from saying more.  My legs exploded with such size that they tore through the denim encasing them almost instantaneously.  My thighs were so large and thick that each was roughly the size of a keg.  My calves likewise exploded out to an astronomical size—nearly the circumference of a fit man’s waist.  My ass grew so large that it felt like two medicine balls were attached to my back.  My abs thickened into a padded quilt of intense power, growing larger, but still taut on this overblown body.  The shirt was stretched forward, but it held.  As if on cue, my lats began spreading out, wider than I thought humanly possible.  My arms were forced absurdly to the sides, and they widened and widened—a passenger plane of width tore the shirt off my body.  My shoulders swelled and rounded even more, tearing off the tops of the sleeves with them.  Looking straight ahead my shoulders blocked part of my peripheral vision permanently—there was no way to see beyond them.  Even my traps rose up to my ever-growing neck.  I could just see my own traps without looking down.  Muscle was trying to swallow my head.  Distracting me from my muscular encasement, I heard a fabric ripping sound as the sleeves of my polo shirt burst off my monumental arms.  Always my most impressive muscle group, they had grown so thick and dense with muscle that it would be difficult to flex a proper muscle—my muscle would get in the way of my muscles. There was an insane sweep of both bicep and tricep, the arm crawling with veins and striation.  The last little bit of fabric on me flew off as my chest burgeoned outwards, swollen with impressive and overworked brawn.  The furry mountains of my chest were a constant presence in my line of sight now.  When I looked down, the hirsute muscle was all I could see, vibrant with strength and shredded with striation.

            Finally, it stopped, and I tried to move.  My thighs were so impossibly thick, my shoulders so impossibly wide, my chest stuck out so impossibly far, that walking with this gargantuan body forced me to waddle and strut.  I was beyond slow, but I had to get that phone out of Danny’s hand before he did anything else.

            “Now for the superhero proportions.  Mr. Davis wouldn’t like it if your waist was bigger than his.  So, we’ll take five inches off your waist and distribute it to your thighs and chest.”

            The force that pulled in my waist—my over-muscled 8-pack abs waist—in five inches was intense.  If before it had been a granite corset, now it was a steel vice.  As that pulled in, my chest, thighs, and arms swelled out just a little more.  I continued my strut waddle to Danny, and my new dimensions exaggerated everything.  With both of my thighs and my cock and balls, I had to keep my legs easily two feet apart just to move forward.

            “Stop it, now!” I boomed.

            “Oh, we’re done now.”  Danny said.  “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but you should consider keeping these dimensions when the timer runs out.  You look like my darkest sex dream come to life.”

            I slowly made my way past Danny to the kitchen door.  I was too wide to fit through it, so I just forced my way, breaking both sides of the doorframe as I did.

            “Wow.  That back is a beautiful work of art.  So powerful and defined,” Danny said, rapt with his own handiwork.  I ignored him and kept walking to the foyer.

            “Where are you going?” Danny asked.

            “I’m leaving.”

            “Mr. Davis is coming here.  You don’t have to go anywhere.”

            “I’m leaving you,” I clarified without looking back.


            I stopped in my tracks.  “You’re one of them, Dan.  I want out.”

            “But you’re naked.”

            “Don’t care.  I just want to leave.”

            “But you’re not going to fit behind the steering wheel of your car at that size.”

            “Then I’ll walk until I get to Gina’s, and then she’ll help me.”

            “But if you get too far away from the phone, how can I turn you back?”

            “You’re not going to turn me back even if I stay.  You practically said as much yourself.  I’ll either learn to adapt to this body over time, or it will shrink back to something more human-sized over the next couple of months.”

            “Is this because I asked you to have sex with Mr. Davis?  Because…”

            I spun around violently.  Unused to my new width, my left side slammed into a wall, and the whole house shook.  “That’s part of it, yes.  But if you don’t see why I’m leaving then that’s just another reason I’m leaving.”

            “But if it’s the sex you object to, I can make it so you don’t even remember it.  Like you didn’t even do it.  Mr. Davis told me there’s an option for that.”

            “So, you’d use your phone to force me to have sex with someone, and then use your phone to erase the crime from my memory.  Don’t you see what’s fucked up about that?”  I turned back around and started to leave again.

            “But we marched and we fought to get married.  You’re just going to throw that all away?”

            “I’ve been fighting for months to save this marriage.  Scratching and clawing and accommodating and compromising.  Now you plan on forcing me to have sex with another man so you can get a promotion at work.  You’re the one throwing it away.”

            “I thought you said ‘til death.”

            Calmly, coolly, without a trace of malice in my voice, I said, “The darling Danny I married is dead.  You killed him, Dan the Man.”

            As I reached for the doorknob, I head him cry out, “Don’t go.  I don’t want you to go.  Don’t leave me.”  I pulled open the door, the knob crumpling in my hands.  He added, “I’ll just make you stay!  I’ll make you want to stay!”

            I was halfway out the door when I heard the sound of a phone hit the floor.

            “Stop, RT.  Stop.  I just heard it.  I was about to erase everything that makes you you just for a promotion.  I did not know how far I’d sunk. I don’t even recognize myself.”

            I was trying to get my massive, naked frame out through the front door.  “Pretty words,” I said.  “But it’s too little, too late.”

            “Wait!” he cried.  I heard him pick up the phone.  “Look,” he called out.

            Almost reflexively, I turned to look—as far as my traps and neck would let me turn—and he had his finger on the ChorrTek app.  He dragged it to the recycling bin on his phone, and deleted it from the phone.  “There,” he said.  “It’s gone.  I can never use it ever again.”  He then pulled up Google and typed in, “therapists in San Jose.”  He clicked on a screen and said, “As soon as I’ve gotten to my sister’s, I’ll make an appointment.  This place has corrupted and twisted me, and if I don’t get help, I’ll never change.  I still want you to come with me, but if you need to be away from me right now, I get it.  I crossed so many lines.”

            I pushed myself back into the foyer.

            “And ChorrTek?  Mr. Davis?  He said he’d ruin you.”

            “He already did.  I’m just hoping it’s not too late for me.”

            “I meant your future career.”

            “If working at a place like this means losing a man like you, I will flip burgers or dig ditches for the rest of my life.”

            “Let’s get to San Jose.  Together.  I make no promises, but if you actually change, I want to try.”



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            A year after Danny quit ChorrTek, we were still together, living in LA.  It was two months of intense therapy until I let him kiss the back of my neck.  It was another two months of even more intense therapy until I trusted him enough to sleep with him again.  It was another four months after that we renewed our vows, almost like starting our marriage over.  Now that we’re four months past the vow renewals, we’re stronger than ever.

            At first we tried to save the housewives of the planned community and maybe bring down ChorrTek, but they were just too powerful.  Even with the physical evidence of my body, no one believed us about what happened in that planned community.  Gina and my friends from campus tried to back up our claims with photographs showing my impossible transformation, but it was an uphill battle.  We fought and lost, but at least Danny and I had gotten out.

            Danny has since gotten a job teaching business at a community college.  When they hired him, he made them promise to never let him teach business ethics.  They thought it was an odd request, but assured him he’d mostly be teaching introductory advertising courses for the next couple of years.

            I’m still a mountain of superhero muscle.  Doctors assure me I’m in good health for a man of my dimensions, but I’ve had to make some odd adaptations, all of them pricy enough to drain our savings.  I have to special order all my clothes online.  We had to find a first-floor apartment because stairs and elevators are a constant challenge, and all of our furniture, especially our bed has to be reinforced to handle my size.  I have to drive one of those oversized pick-up trucks or I don’t fit in the cab.  And it takes a lot of food to keep me fueled. 

            Employment was also a challenge.  I knew I could have gone the porn route or the muscle model route.  There was money to be made there, but that felt like giving in rather than making a life I wanted.  What I really wanted was to return to the middle school, but they though that a man with my “obvious attributes” (as they put it) might distract the children just starting puberty.  The local high schools said roughly the same thing.  The community college where Danny teaches, however, did not care as much.  They were even willing to overlook the fact that I didn’t currently have a higher degree, as long as got one within five years. And as long as I agreed to coach baseball or football or both.  A lot of the men on my team see my body as aspirational, and they really push themselves in the weight room.  And when they realized I was married to the new business professor, a few of the closeted team members finally felt brave enough to come out.

            Danny’s 34th birthday was a lazy Sunday.  We were settled into our new routine and decided not to do anything special but spend the day together.  Danny was curled up on top of me reading a magazine as I dozed on the couch.  He adjusted his position a little, which woke me up.  As I lay there, I felt his warmth on top of me and just knew—just knew—deep down that we were going to make it.  I was convinced.  I felt so relieved, that I let a little laugh escape.

            “What are you giggling about?” he asked, taking off his glasses.

            “We survived.  We made it.”

            He nodded, knowingly.  “Ah, that.”  He put down his magazine on the coffee table.  His tone of voice grew serious.  “Since it’s almost a year to the date, we should talk about it.”

            “Okay,” I agreed.

            “Do you wish I’d kept the app long enough so I could’ve shrunk you back down to a normal size?”

            “Yes and no,” I said.  “Life would be a lot easier if I was even half this size.  I am three times the size of my husband.”

            Danny murmured, trying to hide the fact that that aroused him, and failing.

            “But if you hadn’t deleted it right then and there, I doubt I would’ve given you one last chance and left with you.”

            “So, no resentment.”

            “I’m glad we’re still married.  Of course, I am.”

            “I meant no resentment about what I did to your body?”

            “The other day, I did reps using the two biggest guys on my football team.  How can I resent that?”

            “Okay.  ‘Cause I found this the other day while I was cleaning the kitchen drawers.”  He held up the list of things I wanted to try while I was unemployed.  “I didn’t know if you kept it on purpose, or how it found its way into that drawer.  I was a little worried that you kept it because most of these are things you can never do now.”

            “True.  We have no yard, so I can’t garden.  My hands are too massive; I’d crush a calligraphy pen.  And guitar straps are too small to go around my chest.”

            “And while I’d love to try to watch you do yoga, I think that’s off the list too."

            I laughed contentedly.

            “We could make a new list,” he suggested.

            “Ooh.  A list of things I could never do with my old body but can do with this one.  I like it.”

            “So, we can throw this away?” Danny asked.  “Because it feels like a list of things I took away from you.”

            I took the list from his hand, crumpled it up, and threw it to the floor.  He looked visibly relieved.  “Can I return to my nap now?” I asked.

            “Sure.  But before you do, one last thing.”

            I tensed slightly.

            Then he said, “Promise me you’ll do every last thing on the new list.”

            “I promise,” as I said, already drifting back to sleep.

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Awesome, as usual! Sort of The Stepford Wives with Pandemic Overtones -- and giant muscles and weenies!

I routinely chat online with new people, some of whom are into bodybuilding. I frequently ask them: "Are you acquainted with the sub-genre of Gay Erotica known as Muscle Growth Fiction?" Some have, others are "what's that?" I always tell them, "Stories about guys who grow improbably large muscles in improbably short periods of time. Think the Incredible Hulk or Captain America minus the spandex and with giant weenies instead!"

Thanks so much for your wonderful contribution to our field!


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The Stepford Wives was definitely an influence.  I bent over backwards to not use the adjective "Stepford" anywhere in this story.

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20 minutes ago, TQuintA said:

The Stepford Wives was definitely an influence.  I bent over backwards to not use the adjective "Stepford" anywhere in this story.

It's an irresistible trope, of course! 

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  • TQuintA changed the title to July 28th - One Last Thing (Additional Material Added 8/4/20)

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