Fitting In (Final part added)

[NTMuscle]

I feel for the guy but for me that ability would something entertaining.  Just hulking out of everything because of someone else's desires oh the possibilities.

[dredlifter]

Fun story. Please keep going. 

[noname]

Part IV

You know how sometimes, when you wake up, you realize that you’ve figured something out while you were asleep?

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I knew that the reason I broke down in tears the day before wasn’t just some vague sense of loss. And it wasn’t just that I was far too big ever again to go unnoticed or fit in anywhere, like a regular person. That was part of it, sure. But when I woke up that morning, I also knew it wasn’t the whole story.

The real reason why I broke down the day before was that I would never see Tom again.

It was obvious, really, now that my brain had connected the dots. Not only was he cute; he was also just lovely to talk to, and had always been ready to help when I was in trouble. Perhaps I hadn’t wanted to admit I had a crush on him because he was blind. Maybe, unconsciously, I assumed that there was something inappropriate in hitting on a guy who couldn't see – as if him being disabled somehow meant he was off limits. Whatever the reason, it was too late now.

I sighed and heaved my bloated, hyper muscular body out of the bed and put on the XXL sweatpants I had bought a few years ago, in case something like this happened. At the time, I had thought they were ridiculously huge, but now it turned out that they barely fit. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror - muscles bulging everywhere, with my thick, massive quads stretching the fabric of my sweatpants to the limit.

I sighed again and turned my thoughts back to Tom. I’d have to move somewhere else, far away from him, and all I’d be left with would be this terrible sense of waste – a sense of what might have been, if only …

The doorbell rang, startling me out of my sense of self pity. For a second I was tempted to pretend I wasn’t in, but you never knew if one of the neighbors might need help. I walked to the door and said, without opening it: “Who is this?”

“It’s Tom.” A beat. “Can I come in for a second?”

Even today I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this, but my first thought at the time was: “This is destiny!” Which, for the record, is very much something I do not believe in. But be that as it may, I had to say something, and so it came to pass that I burst forth in a fit of eloquence: “Ahem, is it, like, important?”

Again, there was a beat. Then, rather sheepishly, from the other side of the door: “Yes." Another beat. "Yes, I think it is.”

Something told me this was the stupidest idea ever, but I’d have felt like an asshole if I hadn’t opened the door and let Tom in. At least he was blind, I told myself; he wouldn’t see how freakishly huge I had become, and if this made things even harder for me ... well then, so be it. He deserved to be treated with some respect.

So I opened the door - and was surprised at how confidently Tom was able to navigate my apartment, even though he’d only been here for the housewarming party. He found the living room and asked if it was alright for him to sit. I said yes, of course. This was followed by an … I was going to write “awkward silence,” but funnily I don’t actually remember it as being awkward. I still don't quite know how, exactly, to describe this silence. So let’s settle on “extended silence."

Anyway, the point is that the silence continued, and I was just about to ask what was wrong when Tom beat me to it: “Listen, this is really hard for me, and you probably think it’s weird or something. But I just heard from the landlord that you’ll be leaving, and … and I'm really upset about this because ... Well, it doesn't matter, but ... I just wanted you to know that … that I’ll miss you, you know?”

I could hear a tremor in his voice, and I could see that he was struggling to hold back the tears. I felt that I needed to respond, to console him, somehow ... but what could I have said to make him feel better? Oh, I’ll really miss you too, but I only realized this morning, and I’ll still have to leave because I don’t want to risk growing more muscular than the Hulk? It was bad enough to have to leave. I didn't want him to remember me as a lunatic.

So I ignored all the things he had left half unspoken, and all I said was: “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you, Tom.”

Predictably, this hit him pretty badly; I could see it from the way he flinched. But I admired how quickly he recovered: “Well, I’m glad I told you. I really thought you should know.”

I knew perfectly he was giving me a second chance - an opportunity to say something more meaningful - but I convinced myself that it would be easier for him if he thought I was just some insensitive prick, and therefore said nothing. Tom waited a few seconds, and when it became clear that I wouldn't say anything else he said "Alright then" and got up: “I’ll go back to my flat now. A hug goodbye, at least?”

I was about to say no, to really hammer home the point that I was a full-blown idiot he’d clearly do best to forget. But I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I heard myself whisper: “Sure, why not?” And then I felt his arms around me.

I don’t know how long the hug lasted, but when Tom took a step back I noticed a look of confusion on his face. He grinned, shook his head in disbelief, and said: “Man, I always knew you were big. I mean, people do comment on your body and stuff. But I had no idea just ... just how massive you are.”

Once again, I wasn’t sure how to respond, but it turned out Tom wasn't waiting for a reply: “You know, when I could still see, I never thought bodybuilders were attractive. It just wasn't a look I found appealing. But, man, I’d be lying if I told you that I didn't enjoy feeling these massive arms wrapped around me."

Then he blushed, as if he wasn't sure if he'd gone to far:  “I hope I haven’t offended you or anything. I just had no idea it would feel so ... so good.”

And that’s when the atmosphere in the room began to change. At first, I didn’t understand what was going on, but then I could feel that all-too familiar pressure build up inside me, and suddenly it became all too clear. Tom hadn’t liked the way bodybuilders looked. But he'd just found out that he loved the feeling of massive muscles. And now that he knew this, new fantasies and desires were taking shape inside him. And not just any random shape either. No, they were coalescing, slowly but surely, into the shape of increasingly pumped-up mounds of muscle. And, as always, my body responded.

I already sported the biggest, juiciest muscle butt of all time, but now I could feel it swell even bigger. My pecs were already bigger than any bodybuilder’s, but now they began to push outward even further, steadily swelling even more massive.

“What’s going on, man? Why don’t you say something?”

Tom’s words barely registered at first. I could feel his desire growing inside him, and I stood helplessly as my body strained to fulfill his new and increasingly wild fantasies. I watched my biceps bulge bigger. I felt my lats spread wider. And I heard the fabric of my sweatpants being torn apart by my swelling, hardening, thickening quads.

[Ro20316]

Tom desire is making him grow. Will he accept it and let go of his innibitions?. Maybe all he needs is to let go and fullfill his "soulmate" fantasy and his "cursed" will be broken.

[noname]

Part V

“What’s this noise? It sounded like some fabric being torn apart!”

I could hear the note of panic in Tom’s voice, but what was I going to say? Well, I’m bursting out of my clothes because your desire for muscles is making me grow? Not likely.

But of course, I was still growing, and I couldn’t stop as long as Tom was anywhere near. I could feel pound after pound of muscle being pushed into my already massive frame … so I said, as coldly as I could: “I’m sorry, Tom, but I’m kind of busy here. Perhaps you can come back later?”

I saw the hurt on his face. I felt it, too; the last thing I wanted was to cause this guy any pain. But I had to stop the growth, somehow. My pecs were so big that I could no longer see my feet, and still they kept pushing outward, swelling, bulging.

Tom, however, still seemed undecided, and as I felt my traps rise higher and my bull-like neck continuing to thicken I pleaded: “Please, just go now.” And he did.

I stood in my living room, my hulking body covered in sweat. I lifted my right arm, and it looked as thick as a pro bodybuilder’s leg, if not thicker. I had become the freak I never wanted to be. A true monster of muscle, far bigger than anyone would have thought humanly possible.

I needed to find help, somewhere, somehow. But who would even be willing to engage? I didn’t want to make a display of myself, but who could I talk to without them thinking I was crazy?

The Internet, of course.

Using my laptop turned out to be tricky, though. I had to place it on a bookshelf because, when I’d placed it on my desk, my swollen pecs had obstructed my view of the screen. Typing, too, proved a bit more difficult, as my biceps bulged insanely whenever I bent my arms.

Moreover, besides these purely physical obstacles, I wasn’t sure what to look for, exactly. I doubted that I’d find any others who were suffering from the same condition. Still, wasting some time surfing the web would save me from truly confronting my own situation.

Or so I thought. For after a little while I found this site called Musclegrowth.net. It didn’t take me long to realize that this was a place where muscle lovers – especially, but not exclusively gay men – gathered to share their stories, fantasies, and so on, but also just to chat to and even support each other. I introduced myself and soon got into some good conversations with guys on the site.

Over the next few days, I discovered that some were very open about their fetish, while others remained completely in the closet – and neither side was dismissive of the other. I had always felt that there would never be a place where someone like me could fit in, but the conversations I had with on this site helped me understand something important. Fitting in wasn’t so much about conforming to a preconceived notion; neither was it about aggressively moving into a territory, destroying everything that stood in the way. It was more like joining a chorus of voices, listening, paying attention, and finding the notes that would complement and lift their song, adding new harmonies, melodic lines, even dissonances that would enhance the beauty of the piece.

After a particularly helpful conversation, I logged off and placed myself in front of the mirror. I looked at my hulking, swollen body. Started touching my muscles, flexing them a little. True, I had never wanted to be this big. But there was a kind of beauty in this, too, I began to see. And, above all, I had this incredible gift to fulfill the desire of others. To fulfill the desires of Tom, whom I had treated like shit because I was too afraid of myself and what others might think of me.

So I picked up the phone – again, not as easy as it may sound, with the amount of muscle on my body – and dialed his number. He picked up and, when he realized it was me, almost hung up. But I managed to say “I’m really sorry” just in time, and at the end of the call he agreed to come over.

For the past few days, I’d been mostly wearing a sort of loincloth I had made (because none of my clothes would have fit me, anyway). I decided to strip naked, though – to meet Tom without any protection or disguise, as it were.

When I finally heard him knock on the door, I breathed a sigh of relief: “Just come in; it’s open.” And there he was, as beautiful as ever.

“So,” he said.

And as the growth resumed, I reminded myself that I ought to view this as the gift it was. Not only had I found a guy I loved; I could also give him something that he realized he needed, but that, deep down, he feared was impossible.

And so I welcomed the feeling of muscles swelling bigger, and stronger, and harder. I could feel the muscles rubbing against each other as they grew, straining to fulfill Tom’s ever increasing desire: lats widening, calves inflating with size, biceps bulging bigger.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot, Tom. I realize now that I need you. Without you I’ll never be strong enough to be who I want to be.”

And he reached out and touched me – and I’ve been unable to stop growing ever since.

The End

[Ro20316]

I am happy he accepted his ability amd got to be with the man he loves and im sure the people at MG is happy too.

[citizenies]

Sweet story so hapoy for them

[noname]

Thanks for the comments and feedback. Much appreciated!

[Kymuscleboy]

What an absolutely lovely story! The growth scenes were really hot, and it's interesting to see things from the perspective of a guy who doesn't necessarily want the muscle growth. Then the ending was wonderful with him finding love. Also it was a bit eye opening to think about a blind person appreciating muscle, as I usually think about it from the visual angle rather than what it feels like. That was a really neat take on the genre. My only question is who was the guy on the bus and the bathroom??? Now that our narrator has embraced his curse (what I would consider a gift), I would love to see him go back to his office and find the guy.  However, it was also mysterious how he remained unseen.

Thanks for writing a great story!

[citizenies]

sad to see this end but sweet and hot story overall