growth Antialpha Part 3

[FREaky]

Antialpha Part 3

By F_R_Eaky

 

Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2656-antialpha/

Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2667-antialpha-part-2/

 

After a very long  soak under the shower, letting thoughts run and run and run and run in his head... Bo came out, toweled himself off, and realized he needed to get moving.  If Mr. Donatelli's men had found him at the club last night, and knew where he lived here, they would be watching and they would be back.  Even though that was a strong metal security door, for the likes of Mr. Donatelli's men, it won't mean much.  If they're willing to break down a door in a busy apartment building, they'd be willing to use explosives to blow the security door.

 

Stepping out into the bedroom, Bo did several double takes hearing the very heavy footfalls made by himself.  He was still not used to the fact that he was tall and heavy enough to make large man sized footsteps.  Nor were his clothes.  Bo sat and stared at his closet and drawers.  He liked things tight fitting to show off how thin and small he was to attract dominant tops, and now having grown a foot taller to five-feet eleven inches tall, and gained enough weight in muscle mass to look like a gymnast, there was no way his clothes were going to fit without ripping, tearing, in several places or riding so high up his arms and legs that he'd look like a poor school boy after his growth spurt.  How was he going to outside?  How could leave the apartment with nothing to wear?

 

Most of the people in the apartment building were out at work currently, and those that were still here Bo didn't know very well, if at all.  Then an idea came to him and he called down to the doorman, Mr. Ogle.  He told him of his plight about the clothes and needing to go somewhere else than staying the apartment.  Mr. Ogle did not disappoint.

 

"Sir, you looked about the same size as me...although I had always you were much shorter than me.  Nothing wrong with that, just an observation.  But, I have some extra clothes in my locker here.  I carry extras just in case I'm invited to head out somewhere after work.  I can bring them up and see if they'll fit you, however, they may be a little tight as you look a little more muscular than I am.  As far as a place to go, I could recommend the apartments I live in, as they have some units they rent out for days like a hotel.  You could stay there until conditions prove favorable to return."

 

Bo agreed and thanked Mr. Ogle for all his assistance when he came up.  The clothes did fit, although a bit tight across the chest, back, shoulders, in the thighs, and especially in the groin.   Bo had an extremely difficult time trying to figure out what to do.  His cock having grown with him, staying in proportion was absolutely huge even when soft.  So big in fact that trying to ball it all up in his underwear made an obscene looking package.  It stuck out so far and so round, even with the jeans on, it couldn't help but be noticed.  Like he had this growth or something there.  This didn't even mention the pain he was in with his cock and balls all stuffed into his underwear.  Between the cock being pressed and forced down by the underwear, and the underwear pulling in and up on Bo's scrotum, standing, let alone walking, felt like he was getting racked every second.  But what was he going to do?  Attempting to let his schlong snake down a leg of the pants, it was so long and so thick you couldn't help but see the outline of it going down his pants leg.  There it was, soft, running three-fourths the way down his thigh!  Eventually Bo decided to have it snake down the leg.  When he stood with his legs nearly closed, at least he could hid the shape and shadow down his leg as opposed to the bunched package that just domed out from his crotch a good few inches in front of him. 

 

Borrowed clothes on, including shoes that actually pinched his feet a little bit, Bo went out the back way of the apartment, after checking to make sure that none of Mr. Donatelli's men were around.  Course he had to laugh and chuckle after thinking about it.

 

"Why do I have to walk around like I'm in a witness protection program?  They'll still be looking for...me.  The old me. How I was - four feet eleven inch twink.  They have no idea how I look now."

 

So Bo went to head out, taking the monorail to get to places, and walking, figuring they probably have his car watched and he wouldn't want to get in and attract new attention to himself.  Making his way through several malls and stores, he sought out some bare essentials of clothing, and nothing hugely expensive.  He didn't need to look like a tourist, only on foot, walking around with dozens upon dozens of shopping bags and invite the local thugs and muggers to take a shot at him.  Although he did wonder how he'd fare against them now in this body.

 

Couple sets of jeans, some shorts, tennis shoes, five t-shirts,  a couple tank tops, a dress shirt, pants, and shoes, a light weight jacket, and it was off to the apartment complex Mr. Ogle had told him about.  He rang for the clerk and told him Mr. Ogle had recommended the place and that he was awaiting renovations to his home being done.  The clerk just kind of blew him off, but made the arrangements and told him which apartment number to occupy.

 

After unpacking his clothes and putting his new tennis shoes on, size thirteen and a half! - he went out and walked to a neighboring grocery store to buy some food, drink, and snacks.  Bo figured he might want to lay low from clubbing tonight least that give him and his new look away as to who he was.  He came back to his unit, after stopping by a Chinese restaurant for take-out, unpacked the grocery bag placing stuff in the refrigerator and cabinets, reheated his take-out and sat down on the sofa watching some skin flicks on the television.

 

**************************************************************

 

The next morning, Bo heard the sounds of someone moaning. He fluttered his eyes and groggily sat up looking around.  More moans and groans came and Bo wondered who the hell was in the rental apartment with him.  Then his head cleared from sleep and he realized he fell asleep watching TV. and the it was sex scene in a movie.  It happened to be of two guys and Bo looked at them for a little bit.  The dominant male was kind of cute, nicely built, deep soft eyes, and....

 

"Aaauugh fuck!"

 

Bo nearly hit the floor trying to stand up and quickly undo his button, his fly, and lower his jeans down.  Although these jeans fit him much better, and he bought them with some room, his cock quickly becoming erect was taking up all the space it possibly could between natural morning stiffness, and suddenly seeing something arousing.

 

Shucking his pants and laying back down on the couch, Bo marvels as he stared down his chest and abs to see his ever growing monster getting longer and thicker and heavier. 

 

"oooh damn.... so heavy....nearly hurts....but feels...so good."

 

In a back pack he had packed with some extra items from home, he reached and fumbled around until he found the tape measure and lay it along the length of his cock. ... ... ... seventeen and one-fourth inches.

 

"Oh shit!" thought Bo.  "Who the fuck wants a decent sized, muscular, donkey dicked twink!"

 

 He tossed his head back onto the arm of the couch, threw one hand down to touch the floor, but his cock stood there throbbin' and bobbin' lightly smacking his abs each time it tried to rise up on its own in its erection.  The other hand quickly grabbed his cock to stop it from smacking his abs and chest. 

 

"OOH!"

 

The sensation hit him so hard.  His cock was so sensitive, and the feeling ran through him like a jolt when he grabbed his cock.

 

"Hmmmmmmm"

 

Bo couldn't help himself.  This morning erection.  The sounds of the guys fucking in the movie.  Bo grabbed a hold of his shaft in one hand and cock head in the other, closed his eyes and began to stroke.  Stroke.  STROKE!  STROOOOOOOOOOOOKE for all he was worth.  He pictured the hot young lead in the moving coming to him and tell him it was alright to be huge, gigantically tall, massively muscled, endowed like a donkey.  Bo began to feel through his imagination that young stud then penetrate his ass and fuck him long and hard.

 

"Oooooooooh.....OH!  oh oh oh oh!  Yes... oh!  Daddy, fuck me, daddy!  Fuck me hard!  Fuck this cum siphoning bottom hard!  OH!  YES!  PLEASE!   Oh.....OH!......Urghmmmmmmm... OH GAWD!"

 

Suddenly Bo's toes curled, his hands tightened their grip on his cock, his back arched, his eyes sprung wide open, along with his mouth, and then.....his cock exploded with rope, after rope, after rope of cum blasting from his balls, up his shaft, and out the slit.  In just second Bo was covered head to abs in white goo and after the blasts subsided, he still shook in orgasm quite a few minutes more.  Rolling himself off of the couch...Bo tried to stand up, shakily, still groaning and moaning, smiling wryly.

 

"F...fff...fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck....huh....that felt.......in....in....incredible.  Maybe ....maybe I should discover what being a top is."

 

Bo's butt hole quivered at that thought, and he knew...he was still a bottom, but he might have to ask for a jack off favor at least from his nightly catches from now on. Getting up, he walked to the bathroom, took off his shirt, underwear, socks and stood in the shower.  Soaping up well, he backed up under the shower spray and let the water caress down his body to clean him up.  Rubbing his hands down with the flow of water, he felt his new body and marveled at how more feeling, sense of touch, it seemed to have, how good it felt to be caressed. He was lost in feeling and thought when he heard them.

 

"Oh, Mr. Ainsworth!  Knock knock!"

 

It was the man from the day before. The man who lead the group breaking into his apartment.

 

"It's me, Mr. Ainsworth, Mr. Bugatti.  I'm the man who came to call on you yesterday and somehow you hid from me.  I didn't like that Mr. Ainsworth.  Worse yet, Mr. Donatelli didn't like it either.  So I'm here now with my associates from yesterday: Joey and Dominic, and we brought along three of your old playmates: Dante, Gerome, and Luigi whom you left dazed and confused and feeling very weak somehow.  Took 'em a couple days to recover, but they're themselves again today."

 

Bo stood motionless in the shower, wondering what the hell he was going to do.  There was no way out but through that front door.

 

"You did a lot of spending yesterday, and using your credit cards.  We hacked into the system and saw you checked in.  And we can tell where you're hiding today; you're in the bathroom.  Why don't you turn the shower off and come on out.  You're all clean for your date with Mr. Donatelli and he's here to collect on that date."

 

"Wonderful." thought Bo to himself. "I've heard of the Gay Pimp before, but I have to somehow attract the attention of the one and only Gay Mob Boss.  Couldn't he have lived in New York or Chicago? Or at least take the stereotype all the way and live and be the mob boss in San Francisco?"

 

"We are not men who like to be kept waiting, Mr. Ainsworth. .... ... ... Joey, Dominic, drag the twink outta da bathroom before he's had so long to priss he becomes a queen."

 

"Yea....Mr. Donatelli isn't partial to queens."

 

The two men laughed their way into the hall, pounded on the bathroom door, and then broke it in.  Bo stood there silently in the shower waiting.  Hoping he would still have an element of surprise, he turned his body and positioned an arm, cocked back ready for a punch.  Dominic stepped forward, grabbed the shower curtain and pulled it back.  Upon seeing a man more the size and build he was he stepped back one step and uttered, "Da fuck?!?"  Upon which Bo threw his punch and landed squarely between the eyes and on the nose of Dominic, managing to knock him out cold.

 

Joey was surprised too, screaming out a, "What da shit?!?", as Bo came forward at him.  Joey was still quick enough to block and catch Bo's hand, but not smart enough to think about watching out for the legs and feet.  WHUMP!  Bo placed one of his goodly sized thirteen and half sized dogs right into the man's crotch.  Joey bent over groaning and then Bo ripped the curtain rod down and smacked Joey's head with it.

 

The other men stood looking at each other somewhat perplexed wondering how a four foot and eleven inch tall ribbon built twink could cause such a raucous and a problem.  More problems were about to begin.  Bo grabbed his underwear and put them on, then stuffed his socks and shirt in the waist band quickly, while grabbing for a lighter that fell out of Joey's pockets.  Reaching for a hair spray can,  Bo stepped out into the hallway, lit the lighter, and when he ran into the approaching members of the mop, hit the button on the hair spray sending a plume of fire out to greet the men on their approach. 

 

The mob men with their hair and faces on fire all tumbled into the bedroom trying to put themselves or each other out.  Bo quickly ran through to the living room, grabbed his jeans and his shoes and made a bee line for the door.

 

"What the hell is taking so long up here, boys!"

 

WHAM!

 

"AUGH!  WHOOOOOA AAAHHH AUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!"

 

It seems that Mr. Donatelli was with them and had decided to come up and check on things.  Bo was running at break neck speed and ran head on into him.  With his new size and bodyweight, it was enough to knock Mr. Donatelli back and down, but down in this case was into the third floor walkway handrail and Mr. Donatelli was tall enough, as he leaned over from the trip, it sent too much of his bodyweight out into the nothingness of air and he flipped right on over the rail.

 

Bo ran down to the other side of the walkway.  Threw his clothes down and hurriedly got them on.  He'd just gotten his second tennis shoe on, when the mob boys came out of the apartment, looked down at their boss and then down the walkway at him.

 

"He just nearly offed the boss!  I don't care how bad you're hurting.  Luigi, you and I will help Mr. Donatelli. Dominic, Joey, Dante, Gerome, after him!  I don't care how you bring him back, Mr. Donatelli only needs his ass whole!"

 

Bo took off running out of the apartment complex and its grounds.  He wasn't sure where to go.  After taking a couple of seconds to get his bearings, he made a right and ran as hard as he could further into the heart of downtown.  The mob boys were hot on his heels. Being anywhere from as tall to slightly taller they had longer legs to run with and were used to running down prey.  Bo was still getting accustom to this body.  He ran through several stores and out the other side of the building, ran down main streets, and side streets, but the mobsters were still on his tail and had even managed to call for some reinforcements to join them.  Bo finally decided to try an alleyway and hoped he might find some way of shaking them there.

 

But Bo's decision to run down this particular alley was a curse to Mr. Donatelli and his men, as well as a blessing, or a curse, to Bo himself.  For this Alley lead to the back of one of Las Vegas' convention centers.  In fact, it led to the one holding the Olympia Expo this weekend and contained thousands upon thousands of men and women who lifted weights and tested strength. 

 

Coming round the corner a slightly bruised and battered Bo tripped and stumbled near one of the loading platforms and back docks.  There was one guard on duty there who sprang up to see if Bo was alright, and then backed up slightly upon seeing the mob of men Mr. Donatelli had chasing Bo down.  Opening the back door, the guard shouted through the door as well as into a walkie-talkie.

 

"Guard Johnson, back docks door.  Need some help here. An entire mob of what look like gangsters just chased some poor guy round the corner and they don't look like they wanna stop!"

 

Orders started being barked over the airwaves, while inside whispers of what the guard just shouted started being spread and many people: attendees, vendors, presenters, contestants, and legends heard the distress call and rose to action.  Mr. Donatelli's men would think twice on this day for as they began to laugh and sneer at the guard who jumped down to help Bo, the back doors burst open and a stream of past, present, and future elite of the bodybuilding, strength training, and strong man world came pouring out the door, for it was the fiftieth anniversary of the Mr. Olympia and everyone who was anyone was there for this event:

 

Jay Cutler, Franco Columbu, Lee Haney, Conan Stevens, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Hafthor Bjornsson, Dorian Yates, Ronnie Coleman, Lee Priest, Flex Wheeler, Moustafa Ismail, Craig Golias, Matt Mendenhall, Brian Shaw, Phil Pfister, Thierry Pastel, Milos Sarcev, Lou Ferrigno, Roelly Winklaar, Mariusz Pudzianowski, Magnus Samuelsson, Markus Ruhl, Noah Steere, Branch Warren, Evan Centopani, Shawn Ray, Quincy Taylor, Ben Pakulski, Paul Dillett, Vic Richards, Evan Godbee, Erik Fankhouser, Mike Matarazzo, "Paco" Bautista, Fouad Abiad, Hidetada Yamagishi, Trey Brewer, Sergey Shelestov, Tommi Thorvildsen, Adam Kozyra, Alexey Lesukov, Andrey Skoromnyy, Antoine Valliant, Olvier Richters, Denis Wolf, Gunter Schilekamp, Jean Piere Fux, Mike O'Hearn, Phil Hernon, Rolf Moeller, Peter Molnar, Tom Platz

Paul DeMayo, Steve Kuclo...

 

"Gents," said the guard looking around at everyone else. "I don't know what your beef is, but it doesn't need to get violent. You can walk way.  If you don't,  I can attest that every single one of these men who have come out the door have thrown more than your personal weight around every morning before and for breakfast.  They will keep you more than busy enough until my fellow guards and the police arrive.  We don't want a situation here, not today.  Just accept you've lost your man today, walk away, chase him down if necessary some other place... and time."

 

The expo men moved closer to Mr. Donatelli's men.  Mr. Donatelli's men stayed put.  One of them finally blurted out. "We don't take no orders from anyone but Mr. Donatelli!"  And he reached inside his jacket.

 

WHUMP!

 

The reaching gentleman had made an error in judgment.  Looking over much of the bodybuilding crowd he thought them to be of average height or shorter, but actually a fair few weren't.  One of whom was Evan Godbee who happened to have martial arts training, black belt even, and stands fairly tall, with thick hands and big feet.  One foot, fueled by the speed of a round house kick and the largely developed muscles on his legs, reached out farther than the mobster realized and coming on contact with the side of the mobster's head, dropped him.  Knocked him out colder than a block of ice.

 

The initial pause the mobsters took, so in shock they were at how fast and long reaching the muscle man was, plus the fact one of their own was on the ground unconscious, was all that the Olympians and strongmen needed.  They rushed in before the mobsters could get any guns or knives out of their pockets and began to pummel them brutally and senselessly.

 

But something happened that neither side could ever dream about.  Bo still on the ground, wondering where to go, began to moan as if in slight pain.  His skin was on fire and in an instant tendrils shot out from him in every direction possible making contact with each and every single man from the expo that came out.

 

"aaarrrrrgh!"

 

The amount of information being carried from each of the competitors past, present, and future, raced down the tendrils into Bo's body, the feeling of power, strength, vitality that began to course through him was too intense, too much.  Bo's brain and senses were on overload.  He lie there breathing sporadically, heavily, and soon blacked out.  The tendrils kept their touch until they had absorbed the DNA code they wanted and then one by one each of the expo men all blacked out as well and the tendrils let go.

 

*************************************************************************

 

There were low murmurings in the background...Bo woke up and opened his eyes, staying still until his vision cleared.  Everything was either an off white or slight teal in color.  There was some machined beeping next to him.  Looking down on himself he saw that he was in a hospital bed with a sheet pulled up around him.  Trying to sit up, he suddenly was approached by a nurse.

 

"Hey... Mr. Ainsworth, are you sure you want to try and get up?"

 

"Uhm.... I guess so.  What happened?"

 

"Well, we're not all sure.  There were mob members running after you and of all places you ran into, it was the back entrance to the expo center where the Mr. Olympia was being held.  Several past, current, and future contenders and their friends ran out to help you.  They made short work of the mobsters.  They're faces were beat so bad their own mothers couldn't identify a one of them.  However they think the mobsters had some new kind of gas bomb, something that let out something to put you to sleep or smell so horribly it'd make you pass out, because for no other reason all the men from the expo who helped you passed out.  And you too, of course.  Only you must have been right next to the canister as you've taken the whole day to wake up.  We thought at first you must have hit your head on one of the loading docks when you passed out, but your head checks out fine."

 

"So do I get to go home? What happened to the Mob members?"

 

"The mob members are all in the hospital being treated for bruises, cuts, broken bones, and some of them burns for some reason. They will stay until well enough to go home, but they're under protective custody here and when better won't go home but to the county, if not a federal, jail.  Mr. Donatelli was the name of their boss.  Seems he fell off the third story walkway of an apartment complex.  Landed himself on row of holly bushes.  You know they say he like to abuse and rape young boys and small men, sexually... ... ... Well, karma came around and bit him back in the ass....literally!  When he fell, the way he landed a holly branch went right on up Mr. Donatelli's butt hole!  Looked almost as if purposefully sat on it himself.  He's in the hospital for surgery and then he'll join his men in prison.  Don't worry, they won't becoming after you until they can only chase you down in a walker.  I'll ask the doctor if he can come back by and see you now and get you released."

 

"Thank you."

 

Bo was released, given his clothes, and he made his way to the monorail to ride to the apartment until so he could collect his items and return home.  The apartment manager was not sure whether he was pleased to see him or not.

 

"You're not bringing any more of those guys here are you?"

 

"I didn't bring them here, they broke in."

 

"Well they nearly set the damn place of fire! Lucky it was only minimal damage to the bed sheets and the curtains.  I've replaced them and aired out the apartment for you, so it's still alright to be in.  I'm gonna have to charge you the cost for the replacement of those things unless you know who those men are."

 

"Bill it to Mr. Donatelli.  You'll find out more about him on the news right about now, I'm sure."

 

Bo made his was up to the apartment.  At least they hadn't kicked in the front door, but picked it instead.  He made his way inside, then felt his stomach growl in tremendous pain.  Yeah...he hadn't had a bite to eat all day.  Too tired to think, he simply grabbed a bag of chips and started munching on them, turning on the TV. and sitting on the couch, instead of bagging and grabbing all his stuff to head back to his real apartment.  He closed his eyes, and tried to let the day just float away from his mind and memory.

 

THUMP THUMP!

 

Bo's eyes flashed open.

 

THUMP THUMP!

 

Oh no! They're back.... lower minions are going to pick up the job now.

 

THUMP THUMP!

 

No...that's not the sound of the door....

 

THUMP  THUMP!

 

It's the sound of his....

 

"NO!  NO!  Not again!"

 

Before he could stand, he felt like his feet were incased in vise grips.  Letting out a long low yell as his feet stretched and grew, lengthened and widened, growing to make the tennis shoe look form fitting before finally ripping and bursting it apart at seems and side strips of fabric.  He then began to kick his legs out, one then the other and each time he did so it appeared as though he was kicking his feet out farther and farther away from himself.  The action then began with his arms and hands.  He tossed his arms, his hands were farther away.  He'd bend his arms and bring his hands back in and they were larger than before.  Toss...farther...bend...larger.... over and over and over again.  As this was going on, his back and shoulders started widening and getting ever so much more and more broader.  It cause the shirt sleeves to rid on up and nearly over his delts and the back began to split.  His head began to rise up as well, higher and higher, until he swore that sitting on the couch his head was as tall as his face was when he was standing, he's original..new original....old new original...his five foot eleven self that is.

 

The stretching done, Bo cursed his new pants at how tight they were in the crotch, making his package look ridiculously enormous and gigantic and causing him no end of racking pain to his exceptionally large nuts and his cock, which he was certain had grown larger with him.  But that wasn't the only bulge he was to have.  Soon he was flex his legs by rising them up on the balls of his feet and every time he did so the bottom hem of his jeans, which now only hung about half way down the calves, looked as if it was getting tighter and tighter.  It was becoming so tight it was cutting off circulation to his feet.  But that didn't matter for in a few minutes more his calves popped the hems of the jeans and began a rip that ran right on up the leg to the thighs.

 

The thighs just swelled and swelled and swelled as if being filled with water until they were so bloated and full, the jean's leg split into a dozen or so ribbons around each thigh, and they bunched underneath in many tear drop shapes.  Bo had to widen his stance not only for standing if he wanted to, but also for sitting down.  His thighs were so big and so powerful they fought for room and if he tried to sit straight legged like most men do, he would've crushed his own nuts to dust and chocked off his own prick!

 

His waist and abs tightened, yet formed even more incredibly defined and larger bricks of muscle pilled higher and wider to look like some section of brick wall.  His chest began to inflate and barrel, widen and broaden, mound and round, higher, broader, thicker, harder, heavier... Bo found it incredibly hard to breathe.  He felt this strong sensation has his nipples made motion with the inflation of his chest to move from sticking out to sticking down and they rubbed against the fabric of his ever tightening shirt as they made their migration.  A sudden rip and the shirt split open at the chest.

 

But it was followed by other series of rips as his lats and traps and back had all been getting wider and thicker, stronger and broader as well, causing untold damage to the back and armpits of the shirt.  His neck got longer and thicker as well causing the collar of the shirt to explode and his delts and upper arms had swelled so thick and huge it blew out the arms into two quick and pitiful tears that were so fast they sounded more like pops.  Bo marveled at these arms, these biceps and triceps that rose up and bulged down and just kept rising and bulging, popping and mounding.  His forearms joined in this explosion of expansion as well, and Bo sat there staring in fear and awe at his own physique.

 

More and more the muscle piled on.  Tighter and tighter his skin it became.  Deeper the cuts, higher the definition.  Larger, thicker, denser, and stronger became the bellies of each and every single muscle on his body until finally the blood vessels all began to rise and writhe, wriggle and squirm up and over the top of all the muscle groups and their insanely defined striations and sinews like pythons encircling a man.

 

"Ooooh"

 

Bo had grown so thick, so muscled, so heavy, he wasn't sure he could stand up...that his muscle could actually lift and move its own muscle weight.  His upper arms stuck so much out on the side, he swore if he extended his upper arms he would be making the motion for imitating a plane.  His thighs pushed against each other for room so much, he swore he was sitting down in a side split position.  His shins and calves looks like giant turkey legs... like ten foot tall, giant turkey legs.  His upper arms looked larger than someone's head, maybe even their waist...perhaps their torso!?!

 

Sitting there watching all these muscles bunch and swell until they had grown into massiveness, he then watched as hair grew up and over his whole body: tops of feet, legs, crotch, abs, chest, slightly upper arms, forearms.....  He could tell he was done.  He had to get up.  He had to check himself out to see what he had become.  Standing up he took several minutes to balance himself, before he finally took a step.

 

PEEEEEERRR!

 

What the hell was that?  Sounded like a ton of something hit the floor and caused the whole apartment to shake?

 

PEEEEEEERR!

 

It was him!  It was Bo!  No he really needed to make his way to the bedroom closet-mirror doors.

 

WHAM! CHING CHING CHING GRRRRRRR Whoooooom CHING whoooooom CHING

 

Bo's head ran into the blades of ceiling fan.  Growling loudly he turned to make his way into the bedroom.

 

WHAM! 

 

"AUUUUUUUGH!"

 

Bo's head struck the wall and his shoulders struck the door frame.  His hand reached out to grab the top of the door frame to steady himself, but instead reached to far and too high around the door frame and caused plaster and dust to crumble and fall down upon him.  Turning from what hurt him, Bo staggered trying to get his footing again and clear his head.

 

WHAM!  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCING!  SURCCCCH SUURCCCCCCCCH

 

"OW FUCK!"

 

SMASH!

 

Bo had run into the ceiling fan again, this time not thinking and just smacking whatever it is to get out of the way.  His bear paw hands smacked the ceiling fan and light and practically ripped it from the ceiling.  Sparks coming out and showering on Bo.

 

"SHIT!"

 

Bo smacked at the ceiling fan-light switch, practically pushing the plate into the wall and tearing the box out.  He finally walked over to where the apartment's fuse box was and as gingerly as possible, flipped the toggle for the switch marked living room.

 

Making his way to the bedroom doors, he bent down and moved forward. WHAM!

 

"MOTHER FUCK!"

 

He bent down and twisted sideways to get through the door.  Turning to stand in front of the mirrors, he stood  absolutely speechless.  There was the headless body of a god...a hairy, muscle bound god! So big so broad so tall....  Bo stood there staring at the reflection of himself in fear, in awe, in great depression.  Kneeling in front of the mirror doors, so he could finally see his face, he finally had to believe, it was him, in this body, looking through these eyes.  He knelt there breathing hard.

 

"h....h...h..... hu.....hu......Hu.....Huuuuoooou........HUL........hulk.... Hulk....HULK!  HULK!  HUUUUUUUULK!  I'VE GROWN INTO THE HULK!"

 

Spinning around on his knees he looked down at the puny bed lying before him - it was a queen sized - His eyes rolled into the back of his head, confusion, weakness from growing,  starving from hunger caused Bo to pass out and he collapsed upon the queen bed, which groaned in loud discomfort.

[myfaceisitchy]

Amazing as usual

[cutlerfan]

Wonderful..please write more..even if it is just an epilogue! Send Bo to me please! Loved it!

[muscl4life]

Amazing chapter. I actually had to re-read it because I googgled  each name of the list of all the professional muscle gods whose traits Bo would acquire, so all that combined is just powerful!

 

Great story, I just hope Bo finds a nice top for his massive new body, or maybe he can find several nice tops to compensate for their lack of size compared to him hehe...

 

Cheers!