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[A/N: Kept you waiting, huh? This chapter is extra-long to make up for the hiatus. The next chapter should be a little quicker to write if only because I know what (or rather, who) it's going to be about. And if you notice a certain loose end - yes, that's on purpose. It'll come in handy later. Get it? Han- oh, you'll see what I mean.]

“[Who can tell me what molecules DNA coils around when it’s being epigenetically suppressed?]”


“[Very good, Anderson.]”

It’s not wrong, and at least he didn’t call me Casey, but God Dr. Weiss pisses me off. At least I don’t have to look at his smug face when I’m re-listening to old lectures. Better yet – I can study while rowing. Now, acetylation means a gene is turned “on” – wait, Jim’s getting on the treadmills. It’s not a jog so much as a fast walk, but doesn’t he have expense reports to write or hot men to fondle? I’ll ask him about it later, but midterms won’t wait.


5 kilometers down is a good stopping point. Might as well check my stats… damn, I’ve shaved off 6 minutes off my 5K time since I got here. My heart’s not beating out of my chest anymore either. It’s just getting stronger, my resting heart rate plummeting, my nutrient partitioning getting better and better as I grow into an athleteI’m getting ahead of myself. I hop off and walk over (my thighs aren’t rubbing together as m– FOCUS.) to the treadmill he’s using, the one that’s specifically the most scratched-up one here – and that’s saying something. He doesn’t even have earbuds in, so it’s easy to get his attention.

“How’s your workout so far?”

“Good. The weather has been colder than average recently, so I have started taking walks indoors.”

They certainly seem to be longer than they were before, assuming he’s telling the truth. His face looks a little skinnier, his shirt slightly looser, but he looks roughly as sunburnt as he was when he blew me. Something doesn’t add up.

“Cool. How frequent were they before?”

Fear flickers on his face for a moment before he regains composure.

“…Never. I…” I can see the (probably metaphorical) gears turning in his head. “I have simply worked more efficiently the past few weeks, and a few of our regular clientele have been absent, likely due to influenza.” A few weeks… there’s no way I caused him to start working out. Still…

“If I ever get sick, call me and I’ll keep you company on your walks. My number is 555-8739.”

“I didn’t bring my wireless earbuds today, but I’d be willing to start if you alert me when you get sick.” God willing, that’ll be never.

“Good to know. Nice catching up with you, Jim. Keep at it.”

“You two, Rex.”

As I turn to go back to the erg, I notice the sparsest mustache stubble on his upper lip. Maybe he’s trying to grow it out. Alright, back in position. I could stand to catch up on chemistry lectures.


“[Any questions on the syllabus?]” Fuck, wrong one. Let’s go to the next cla-

“[Will we be doing anything after the accuracy and precision work during the first lab?]”

That was me – emphasis on was. My voice is notably higher and softer sounding there than it was in the biology lecture from a few days ago. Now I actually sound like a college student – and a male one, at that. Maybe growling has its benefits.


Fucking hell. Of all the times for someone to call, it’s during my midterms. I’ll just hope it’s a telemarketer or something.

This is the third time they’ve rung this exam. It’s definitely my parents. They’re probably asking if I’m coming home for Thanksgiving. Shit, what do I…

“Casey!” …I forgot to prepare for that. “Thank goodness you called. Why didn’t you pick up earlier?”

I was in my dorm room [cough] finishing my take-home finals for Calculus 1.

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like you’re healthy.” I’m a genius.

I woke up the other morning with a sore throat. Checked my temperature and it’s a hundred and [sniff] 3 degrees.

The shock on the other end of the line is palpable. “…Steven, you have to come over here now.”

“What is it, honey?”

“Casey’s running a fever.”

I can feel the color draining from his face from halfway across the country. “Do you have a bathtub nearby?”


“Okay, don’t panic. Ask your roommate to buy as many bags of ice as he can, and lay on top of them. Place one on top of you ONLY if he’s strong enough to lift it off of you and can tell if you’re being crushed!”

I-I… achoo! I’ll do that as soon as you get off the line.

“We’ll send you more ice you can use to cool yourself down if you still can, and enough ice cream to get your core body temperature down.”

Thank you.” Fuck them. “And I’m sorry I can’t fly home for Thanksgiving this year.

“We can video chat if you can use your laptop, and Julie and I will be sure to send you your share of the dinner.”

I look forward to it! Anyway, I have to go back to resting in bed now.

“Good choice! Stay safe. We love you!”

I love you too. Bye.

That’s 10 pounds of regain and a dozen awkward conversations prevented. Plus, the food pantry could probably feed a family of 3 with what’ll be coming in the mail. …Fuck, I forgot the +c.



“Mine’s 3.5. That’s really not all that better. Besides, a lot of this is review from high school-”

“Stop moving the goalposts. You said the bet would end at Thanksgiving, and you are literally packing your bags right now.” And I don’t think he needs that many polos for a 4-day weekend.

“True, but it’s taken more than 3 months in the past for the academic downslide to take place. My friend Carson joined the football team 9th grade, did well for a while, then had to repeat 10th grade and that was the last I ever saw of him.”

“There was probably something underneath the surface you just missed. Maybe his home life went to shit.” Or worse, was too good.

“It happens time after time: they pick up a sport, they get fit, they stop going to study sessions with me, they become popular and dumb and I’m tossed aside and left to rot with the other nerds-” He just now processes what he’s saying. I think I know what to say about that, which is good, because he really doesn’t.

“They got a new interest and probably some more confidence, but they were still the same people on the inside. I could show you firsthand: you come to the gym with me for a week when you get back, and I’ll ask the owner to not let you in the building if your grades so much as start to slip.” Besides, we didn’t make it an actual bet, but I won, goddamn it.

“…Fine. But only if you make sure nobody bullies me.”

“They didn’t bully me when I started, and I was fucking embarrassing. But if anybody says you shouldn’t be there, they’ll never see the light of day.”

His face freezes in confusion, then melts into relief.

“Thank you, Rex.”

“Any time. I can’t wait to work out with you. Now, want to help me with some measurements?”

“Might as well get used to it.”

“Five foot seven and three eighths. How?”

“Percy, we’ve been over this – I’m not cheating.”

“You’re… you’re almost taller than me!”

He’s right. I used to be eye-level with his mouth, and now I could probably see the top of his head if he shaved. Still need another inch or so to do so with his cauliflower haircut, though.

“Body measurements next.” It’s probably a farce with the muscle I’m gaining and the fat I’m losing, but fuck it, I’m a sucker for a number going in the right direction. I pull off my T-shirt that’s getting a bit snug around the sleeves and pull down the pants that are going to need a belt by December.

Christ, I’m looking better. My thighs have rapidly dropped fat while I was busy with midterms. Now I can see the shape of my quads when I’m just standing up, and they don’t rub together half as much as they did when I got here. My ass has leaned out too; instead of being just inert fat, my glutes are giving it some shape. I’m glad I have a bubble butt – I can’t believe I just thought that. The peach fuzz on it is also getting nice and dark; I might be caked up, but it’s a man’s ass through and through. Percy wraps the measuring tape around it, the cloth cool on my skin.

“Forty-four inches.”

Jesus, I’ve dropped half a foot off my butt in 3 months. It’s just going to get tighter and tauter, its jiggle a thing of the past, just pure unrelenting muscle to provide ever more power to my thrusts- Percy gasps.

“That… explains it.”

I’m hard now. Shocker.

“…Is it getting bigger?”

“Kind of.”

“Is that going to happen if I lose weight?”

“If you have enough pubic fat, yes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

My gut has continued to shrink – hell, I can hardly call it a gut now. It’s still soft and squishy and cuddly (yech), but at least people could argue that I’m just overweight – plus, I’m getting a treasure trail. The tape goes over my still-too-deep navel.

“Forty-two inches.”

Not ba- wait, was he looking at my dick? He said he was straight, but I’d be curious too. My moobs… I definitely can’t call them that now. That upper thickness combined with the dwindling fat near my nipples means I can just about call them pecs, and now there’s a little patch of hair near my sternum and my roommate looking up at me expectantly.

“Can I… can I touch it?”

“Sure. Lotion is in the bathroom. I can take most of these measurements from here.”

He runs off to lube up. Might as well keep checking myself out in the meantime. God, these look almost like a jock’s arms. A dusting of fur is emerging on my forearms, but it’s not enough to obscure the veins emerging on my wrists or the visible shifting of muscle when I move my fingers. And my upper arms are lean enough now that I can almost see my tri-

“Wait, is that a line on your arm?”

I actually have muscle definition! God, and they’re probably bigger around than Percy’s are even without the fat. Let me see just how big these guns – I probably can’t call them that yet, but I do know they’re 16 inches arou---

“Ungh- you caught me by surprise.”

His skin is soft and smooth, but his fingers are bony – not that I mind. Anyway, now that I only have one chin, my face isn’t round so much as it is rounded, oh God he just pushed my fatpad back – and I think there’s less of it. And even with my chubby cheeks – hell, they’re just full now - I’m looking meaner, more serious, like a dom. It helps that my patch of stubble is rapidly spreading, having doubled to cover half of my lower jaw and metastasizing to my upper lip.

“Wait, was that your jaw?”

I think he’s onto something. Stretch my neck, pull some of the fat and skin away… Jesus fucking Christ I have the start of a jawline. I can’t fucking wait to see what I look like without this face pudge – and I can see that Percy’s excited too. I don’t have X-ray vision, but I’m willing to bet that I’m packing more than him, and that wasn’t the case in August. Fuck, and my hands are a little bigger than his. God, I’ve… I think I’ve outgrown someone. Combined with what’s happening below the neck – fuck, I’m not pear-shaped anymore. My back is starting to get big, strong, broad (grrr…) and Percy has clearly noticed, my hips are ridding themselves of femininity (agh…), I look like a fucking man facially (oh…), his hand is speeding up, and it’s just going to get more and more extreme, oh God I can just see that belly shrinking, chest flattening, fuck no don’t moan too loud, arms swelling, lifts going up, further dwarfing him, strong enough to overpower him if I needed to, dwarfing more people, outlifting Colton, a head taller than Chris Bumstead, THE UNDISPUTED BIGGEST BODYBUILDER ON THE FUCKING PLA --- 3 shots, 4 shots, a dribble…


“Wait, were they always that big?”

FIVE. …He’s right. They’ve gone from the size of the jumbo cherries on the top of my ice cream sundaes to the grapes in everybody else’s school lunches. And my cock is just starting to go soft, but there’s still significantly more shaft than there was last time I checked. I think it’s thickening over time, too.

“No homo, but that was pretty impressive.” His eyelids crinkle with mirth. “Who knows? Lose another 30 pounds and you could start an OnlyFans!”

I might take him up on his word someday.

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So glad to see this story continued! Rex is becoming quite the budding alpha and it sounds like he’s headed towards some impressive growth spurts. Can’t wait to see where you take this one.

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God i love all the measuring. Cant wait to see how his dick as grown. It wasnt measured this chapter which makes me want it more

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  • 2 months later...

[A/N: Happy Easter! And in the holiday spirit, I've risen from the dead to put something in your basket (insert Beavis And Butthead-style laughing here). I might as well explain the delay: I've unfortunately been between assignments since September, and when there's nothing I have to do, I don't really do anything. I'm working on getting back into the swing of things, though, and there's probably a 90% chance I'll be back to working by the end of the month. I can't make any promises, but it MIGHT speed up the rate I put out SMM chapters. So, on that note, let's get into... a completely different holiday. Huh.]

I shaved for this. Knowing how much more mature and authoritative I look with a mustache just makes it so much worse when it’s taken away from me so my parents don’t throw a fit. Plus, this angle does a decent job of playing up what’s left of my double chin. The upside is that, outside of slightly-less-puffy cheeks, nobody would dare suspect I was any different from the “Casey” that waved goodbye to them on move-in day.

That’s also the downside.

The gym’s closed today, so I can’t even spite them by lifting heavy, challenging myself, growing stronger, becoming dangerous – I should stop before I get a boner I can’t take care of. But the fact that I can get hard so easily means my testosterone levels are getting higher, it’s getting easier for me to pack on muscle, grow my beard, get an even deep – FOCUS. I really should have just played Stellaris until 30 seconds before dinner. And I don’t even have enough time to fake sick more convincingly; any more waiting and they might call CPS. (Hopefully they’ll hear that my 19th is in a few weeks and hang up on them.) I… I can do this. Sticker: off. Camera: on.

They’re clearly adapting well now that I’m out of the house. They’ve taken the padding off the table corners, they’ve set up a cornucopia with actual fruit, and they’ve started using non-butter knives again. (I can’t exactly blame them for the last part, though.) The spread is even a little more reasonably sized, with only 3 pies per person now. Mom leads the too-warm welcome.

“Hi, Casey!”

I should have prepared for that.


“How have you been do…” She looks at the camera with that familiar expression of something being very, very wrong.

“Please tell me they were careful.”

God fucking damn it, I forgot about my hair. I didn’t see my parents trusting technology enough to do a video call when I got my current cut, but I really should have. How do I…

“They were.” That sounded perfectly healthy – thankfully, my parents were so shocked they didn’t notice I was faking it. Allison looks like she’s figuring it out. Better get back to justifying it now. “They were doing a career advancement seminar a couple weeks ago, and they got the best barbers in Wyoming for the part about looking professional. My phone was d–” Oh God, they might actually shit themselves. New lie. “I couldn’t call you for permission before they used me as an example, but I made it out without a single wound.”

Somehow, they’re even more horrified – but not at me. Mission accomplished.

“Thank the Lord! But next time, please, please, please call us first.”

I’m sorry, but if I shifted in my seat even a little…” I would have been fine, but they already didn’t trust me around sharp (or any other) objects before they barely stopped me from giving myself a double automastectomy.

Silence passes over the table before Dad pipes up.

“Have you figured out where you got sick?”

Biology class. My advisor said I’m taking too many lab classes to move to online work, so I’ll just have to live with the risk.

“Have you asked for a second opinion?”

I would, but they’re all out of the office for Thanksgiving break. I’ll get in touch on Monday.

“Please do.”

They seem satisfied enough to not press further. Now to just let my siblings do the talking and hope everyone is too engrossed in their own lives to ask about mine.


It’s great to be back in here. Bodyweight exercises are challenging as I am now, but nothing beats moving an ever-increasing amount of iron around to make me feel like a man. Come to think of it, I wasn’t able to do pull-ups because I didn’t trust the doorframes. Might as well try the bar here.

Jump up. Grab. Shoulder blades all the way fucking back. Work those fu– Am I… I’m moving! PULL PULL PULL HIGHER HIGHER HIGHER- Fuck. My back is shot for the next half-hour, but I’m closer than ever to the marker of functional strength, the benchmark for jobs based around athleticism, a sign that I’ll be truly fit – and the farthest I’ll ever be from it. Someone tapped my shoulder. Who coul– it’s Jim. He must have seen my armpit hair and ran over here.

“Why are you here on Black Friday?” He’s as awkward as ever, although he’s now shorter than me.

“You’re open that day. That’s good enough reason.”

“Not even to renew your membership?”

“I’ll get there when I get there.”

“Your determination to lift and grow even on a holiday… it’s astonishing. It’s intimidating. …It’s sexy.” Oh my God did he just call me intimidating?

“What can I say? I’m a goddamn beast.

Did his dick just twitch in his pants? I swear to God it did.

“…Sir, please…”

“Again, rain check. But your place or mine?”

“Mine.” Fuck yes. He’s a weirdo and he might kill me, but fuck it, I NEED to cum in someone. Just need to build my pump first.


Describing his apartment as “spartan” would be an understatement. There’s a closet, one white Ikea chair, a mattress, a fridge, a high-quality camera and pop mic (why?), a desk, and not that much else. This guy must LOVE white.

“Women hate how little it takes for us to be happy.” Ah, so it’s probably for podcasting.

“Nothing wrong with keeping it simple. But the least I’d do is buy a bedframe.”

“I don’t deserve a bedframe.”

“Why not?”

“I was born to serve. Servants don’t deserve nice things.”

Okay, this is probably NOT a sub thing unless he’s REALLY fucking dedicated to it.

“Those don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Have you ever had someone pamper you?”

“I’m…” There’s that “I’ll fill the hole inside me with dick” look again. “…not looking for that at the moment.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just give you what you want.

He pauses for a moment, lost in thought. Maybe he doesn’t want to go too hard too fast.

“Loom over me.”

I’m taller than him now, but I can’t do that just- wait a minute.

Stay there.”

I walk over and grab the chair. It’s suspiciously light. Hopefully it can handle 200 pounds of future apex predator on it. I set it down in front of Jim, set one foot on it to see if it breaks, then finish climbing on. From here, I easily have 2 feet on him. (Here comes the fun part.) I lean over and attempt to pin him to the wall – which I can’t do because I dwarf him. I glare down at him. His pupils have gone wide, he’s shaking and blushing, and he’s… I’m not entirely sure he’s hard, per se, but his underwear looks a little fuller. This feeling is addicting. He’s even whimpering and… oh, I see where this is going. He’s stuck a hand down the back of his pants and is starting to faintly moan. God, to think that he actually needs to loosen up for me…

“Get me the lube.”


“Should I get a condom first?”

“Do not. I just tested myself on Wednesday and I have a clean bill of health.”

That’s enough for me. I step down from the chair and head to the bathroom. This place is just as sparse as before, although he does have a bathtub douche (still wet) and separate shampoo and conditioner (weird to think that he has me beat here). There it is. Back to the be- he’s face down and ass up. I can’t believe he shaves tha– it’s Jim, who am I kidding? He might have a flat butt, but goddamn it, it’s hot for someone to want me to wreck them and he looks good like this.

“Rex… please fill me.”

I quickly strip, lube, and oblige. My cock tip teases the edges of his hole. Wait a minute – this is my first time actually topping. I’ve given and gotten head, but I haven’t actually fucked someone, felt them clench against me, heard their whimpers turn to moans, left them incapacitated with pleasure in a pool of I’m… not getting ahead of myself for once. I plunge into his h– CHRIST. I’ve completely underestimated how warm the human body is, his heat only intensifying the pressure of his hole on my cock. And I haven’t even started thrusting yet. There we go; nice and stead– it’s still unreal that I’m actually fucking someone. Time to bury what remains of weak, sexless “Casey”- STOMACH CRAMP. Oh God, I can’t stop now, not when he’s making those heavenly nois- Fuck, I’m getting close. I have to make sure he cums and FAST. Okay, lube up my hands, then- I haven’t needed to only use 3 fingers in months now. Now for some dirty talk.

Look at those twigs. They’re barely even holding you up. I bet you couldn’t open a pickle jar if your life depended on it.

He jerks into my less-plush pelvis. I’m on the right track.

I’m going to open so many fucking jars for you, you’ll just be my little olive slut, won’t you?

…Wow, that was ba- Wait, that made his ass clench? Oh fuck I’m close, gotta make him cum, make him my slut- God damn it not again, I CAN’T---


…Is what I was trying to sexily growl. It came out as more of a scream, one that’s probably going to get him a noise complaint. I’ve already collapsed onto him and I REALLY hope his back was just out.

“…Was it good for you, too?”

“Your raw passion, your primal intensity… I want more. I need more.”

I would have loved something like “you split me in half” or “I’m 2 inches shorter from spinal compression”, but I’ll take it. And give it… as soon as I can get hard again.

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I kind of rediscovered this story last night. 
Big fan of Rex and the drive he has. Him turning into a freaky alpha musclegod with the attitude change? Hot, but also kind of motivating. Am eager for more, @Turquoise01

P. S. The heart-crazy dude might hunger for more of this, hehe:

On 1/17/2024 at 5:12 AM, Turquoise01 said:

5 kilometers down is a good stopping point. Might as well check my stats… damn, I’ve shaved off 6 minutes off my 5K time since I got here. My heart’s not beating out of my chest anymore either. It’s just getting stronger, my resting heart rate plummeting, my nutrient partitioning getting better and better as I grow into an athlete


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