If you had called Trevor the largest college football player in the world I wouldn’t have doubted you for a second.
I lived with the dude, and I saw his enormous pecs squeeze into tights shirts on the daily. Mostly he had stopped bothering wearing sleeves now, his big biceps always on full display, the musk emanating from his pits always present when he walked into the room. As his roommate I had plenty of time each morning to trace his voluminous diamond shaped calves with my eyes before he woke up. His legs always hung out of the 6’5 feet bed, the dorm housing unable to house someone as tall and as wide as Trevor. And his quads weren’t the only thing that was extraordinary girthy, going by his a variety of other bulges in his nether regions.
He was truly a giant among men, and each morning that I saw him I briefly considered if I hadn’t gone too far.
I mean, sure, Trevor had confided me that he had wanted nothing more than to go profesional with his football aspirations a few months ago, back when he had just been an below average looking jock. He’d also confided in me his fear of not quite being big enough to ever play in the superbowl, he had still been the smallest guy on the team, despite his hard efforts.
So I had decided to help him out a bit, you know, bend reality a lil’, nothing too major.
I might have gotten a little… Addicted however, seeing his frame fill more and more with size.
At first I had just wanted to average him out with the team a little. Give him a little step up maybe, enhance his DNA for muscle growth.
Living with him, seeing him grow manlier and thicker with muscle right in front of my eyes… I got carried away. And it wasn’t long before he was the biggest guy on the team, and in the state.
I wanted more lots more, and I got that, to an extent. But reality only bends to affected persons desires. And Trevor just wanted to be a regular old muscle behemoth, instead of a giant. Might have something to do with the weight limits the NFL imposes. I suppose keeping quarterbacks under 300 pounds of beef helps prevents injuries, but fuck if it wasn’t stifling my plans for Trevor.
Whenever I brought the subject of him growing even more massive up he’d always dismiss it. “I’m big enough.” His deep earthquake causing voice would rumble. His massive chest heaving and flexing with his every breath. “Fuckin’ NFL ready man, gonna get recruited the moment I walk out of campus.”
I’d always bite my lips to hide my disappointment. You can change reality so that he’s always been a nearly seven feet tall muscle stud, but you can’t change someone's dreams I guess.
Or someone’s orientation I’d discover, when he brought back another bimbo to choke on his gigantic baby maker. At least I had made him so horny he’d spend most of the night jerking off his massive manhood, I got plenty of time to ogle his gigantic meaty log while he drained his bull sized balls.
It took me a while but I managed to move on from my infatuation with Trevor’s body. Because that was just it, I had been attracted and obsessed with the massive frame I had given him. The shyness in a once small jock that had at one point made him cute had been erased when I had given him the testerone levels of a few bodybuilders combined. So why would I even still pay attention to the guy who wouldn’t want to grow above ‘NFL Ready’ levels?
I could change anyone with a snap of the fingers… Anyone.
As I looked at my own boyish face in the mirror, atop a scrawny body, I thought I knew just where to start.