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  1. Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks and enjoy! Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5a -5b - 6 - 7 - 8a - 8b - 8c - 9 - 10 - 11a - 11b - 12a - 12b - 13a - 13b - 13c - 13d] PART 1 Working at my job wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. On an average day, I would sit at my desk, wondering how a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry got me a job in human resources. It’s not like I had particularly good chemistry with other people either. During my time at the company so far, I’ve only been able to get close to two people. One of them was a co-worker of mine named Marcus. He often pulled pranks on me and made childish jokes at my expense whenever we took a break for coffee. Normally, him being a 23-year-old man, anyone would expect some sort of maturity or sense of responsibility. Marcus was nothing of the sort. He played around far too much and just did whatever the hell he wanted to. Every attempt our boss had at scolding him fell on deaf ears. With any other employee, our boss’ words would stop us dead in our tracks. Boss had that charismatic, authoritative aura about him. Unlike Marcus, our boss, Mr. Wesley Smith, or just Wes, took everything seriously. He had a reputation to uphold. Sure, he had his fair share of dad jokes every now and then, but people in the workplace were already so used to Marcus’ absurd antics that nobody ever really noticed. The three of us were often referred to around the office as the “threesome of power.” In one way or another, we all held some sort of power around the office. Wes had his obvious influence and status. Marcus had his absurdity and over-all charisma. Compared to them, I didn’t have as much. All anyone ever told me was that I was the glue that held together our little threesome. In my opinion, it’s just an excuse to call us a threesome since we’re always together. I wasn’t a big fan of the name, honestly. Especially since I was the only gay one. The main reason people chose to describe us as a “threesome” specifically is that Marcus and Wes were probably the most attractive and sought-after guys at the workplace. Marcus was 5’11” and pretty damn attractive. He had wavy, blonde hair that looked like it was streaked with chocolate, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick and a deep chestnut. Of the three of us, he also had the best body. He had been a model in his university years, so he developed a toned, muscled body with a deep V-shaped torso and disproportionate pecs and shoulders. On the other hand, Wes wasn’t bad looking, but all his time spent in bars showed. He was a good-looking man for his age, 31, having South-East Asian genes, and he had a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure, being only 5’6”. He did go to the gym after work, but he developed a gut after all the vodka. People often say his most attractive feature is his cat eyes. His eyebrows also tilted inwards, so he always had this fierceness about him. It didn’t seem like he was meant to be built in any way besides a small tank either. While Marcus and Wes were the stars of our threesome, I was labeled the “DUFF.” I was only 24, but the new terms the kids kept coming up with always got lost on me. I was the least attractive among us, I must admit. 5’7” isn’t exactly a height anyone would be flaunting off. It’s not that I looked like Quasimodo though. I was just… average—nothing spectacular about me. On one particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk, wearing his favorite sky blue button-down. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to Wes’ condo again?” he asked. “Yeah, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus flubbed his lips, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess this time, Marcus.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” I looked at him, puzzled. “What new intern? No one told me about any new interns.” “That’s because you never join the meetings.” “What? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and literally all we talked about was how you put red food coloring in the water tanks to make it look like we were drinking blood.” Marcus laughed. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” He chuckled. I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s his name? The intern, I mean.” “Ah, wait.” Eric brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” We waited for the phone to pick up. As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What’s up, Marcus? I’m kinda busy right now.” “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was coming up. Could you two let him in and show him around? Thanks.” “Sure thing, sir.” Marcus bounced his head to the side and looked at me as if he were planning something. He always did his squinted eyes, raised eyebrows, and pouted mouth. It was a staple of his. He wasn’t fooling anyone doing a face like that. I wonder if he ever noticed. He put the phone back in his pocket. “Well, Dory, looks like you’ve got some more work to do.” I knew it. “Seriously? Didn’t he tell us to handle him? To-ge-ther?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” I said yes, and he was off, walking back to his desk. I don’t know why I let him do this to me. He’s lucky he was hot. Before I could prepare myself for the new intern, there was a knock coming from the glass door. I got up and headed over. Only people without access cards couldn’t get in and had to knock, which meant it had to be the intern. If I heard correctly, his name was supposed to be Froy, and a student at Harbridge… damn, someone was loaded. I got to the glass door and saw him standing outside. He was wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His jet black hair was short and cropped with little spikes sticking up. He had a cute face too. He had the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, making him look younger than he actually was. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls crushed on him everywhere. He had a decently lean body, but he definitely had bodybuilder potential by the way his broad shoulders stuck outwards, much like Marcus’. However, it didn’t seem like he was the braggart type. If anything, he was a bookworm. He looked like he lived and breathed in a library. All he was missing was a pair of glasses, but instead, he had the most perfect eyelashes. The poor thing seemed soaked by the rain. I opened the door for him and let him come inside, causing him to shiver in his shirt from the cold, freezer-like office temperature. He smiled at me and giggled nervously. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous smile. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart hadn’t fluttered in so long by a guy’s voice. The last time I felt this elevated was when I was still in college and chatting up the star football athlete before he got caught doping and got expelled. I missed having crushes like this. Thankfully, Froy seemed to be legal. A co-worker of mine already got fired once for having “intimate relations” with an underage intern. I wasn’t going to be next. “It’s fine. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but my mother had an emergency at the hospital, so I couldn’t leave.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. Family first,” I said. “Did you bring an extra shirt? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” “Sir, are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brought him to my desk where I grabbed him a seat. My co-workers who passed by would smile at him, enticed by his cute face and meek demeanor. He’d greet them back with a small wave and shy smile. Some people even came up and asked me if he was my new boyfriend. How many times did I have to tell everyone that I’ve never had a boyfriend before? They were just making the boy uncomfortable. I brought out a plain white shirt from my emergency kit and handed it over to him. He looked it over and thinking about it now, it was probably too small for him. Such was a con of being six inches shorter than someone. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I said. “Could I try it on, sir? Just to be sure?” “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t tear it.” I leaned back into my seat as I watched him begin unbuttoning his button-down. At the back of my mind, I knew this was leaning towards sexual harassment—and on the first day of his internship to boot—but I couldn’t help myself. The kid wasn’t reacting negatively either, so I guessed he was okay with it. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed. He started from the top-down, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, and I never noticed how perky his nipples were underneath the black fabric either. There was no body hair on him too, just like Wes. “Nice abs,” I said. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to be part of the gymnastics team, but I quit so I could focus on my studies.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole and did his best to stretch out my shirt to fit in as much as possible. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. “You’ve still got a nice frame. If you went to the gym, I bet you could build it up easily,” I said. He looked ridiculous in my shirt. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and defined pelvis. It looked like a crop top. How he even got into something so tight is still a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I punched his abs. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” I told him to take off the shirt. He looked like he was in too much pain to be wearing something so ridiculous before we found a better replacement. As he raised it over his head and pulled his arms through the sleeves, he accidentally tore it down the side from the left sleeve down to the hem. He froze in panic. “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break your shirt. It was an accident, sir, I swear.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s just a shirt.” His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt. I didn’t want to kill him before Marcus did. I couldn’t afford that kind of blood on my hands at my age. No way my salary was going to cover it. I led the tall kid over to Marcus’ desk at the other end of the office. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do. His eyes just kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What the fuck is going on?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? Dory, I need to tell you as a friend that you are very small. Did you try lending him your shirt? Was it too small? Did you come all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me?” “Yes.” “Alright, here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, black shirt. Froy looked confused but put on the shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy just right. It was a bit short at the hem though. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. The sleeves also accentuated what muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “I have to say though, he’s got a nice body,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime work’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice work-out.” “Marcus, he’s not a maid.” “And I’m not Frida Kahlo.” “You aren’t.” “Shut up,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “Marcus, it’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus Fringe, and there’s your Sir Dorian Yale. You can just call us Marcus and Dory. Our boss is Sir Wesley Smith: short, stocky Asian dude. You can call him Wes. If you ever wanna come work for us, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop fucking with my intern, Marcus.” “You’re not my mom.” Wes’ office was right in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or whenever Wes would leave for the washroom and caught Marcus doing something stupid, Wes would be the first to scold him. He often threatened to lower his pay, but Marcus didn’t care. They were too close to actually do anything like that. As we were talking, the door to Wes’ office opened. He walked out, wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his muscles and small gut. Every shirt in his wardrobe seemed to be skintight. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing because it makes you look bigger. He was only 5’6”, so I could understand why. “Why are you making so much noise, Marcus?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hi, sir. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got wet in the rain.” “Well, take care of him then. Show him around the floor or something, I dunno,” Wes said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes, sir?” “Take him out with ya later, aight? We’re gonna have a little fun.” Oh god. “Yes, sir.” Wes was returning to his office when Froy spoke up. “Oh, sir!” he said. “How do I get through the door? I don’t have an access card.” “Hm? You don’t need an access card. You just grab the handle, twist it, then pull. That’s how you open a door.” “Wes, never speak again,” Marcus said. “What about this?” Wes whispered. “Or this ♪?” he sang. “I’m done,” I said. “And I’m just getting started!” He fired double finger guns at me with the silliest grin, laughing at himself immediately afterwards. We all separated and went back to our work for the day. I finished up the rest of my work as fast as I could so that I’d have more time to tour Froy around the building. It was just a hunch, but I thought he’d appreciate the convenience store. The store has an unlimited sundae cone deal where you could get as much ice cream as you wanted as long as it’s in one continuous swirl and it doesn’t fall over. When we got there, I saw his eyes light up like a child at the carnival. He wasted no time and immediately ordered a sundae cone. I didn’t even have to tell him. It seemed like he was used to doing this sort of thing already. By the time the ice cream was five inches tall, I was getting worried. It looked like it would fall at any moment. “Froy, are you sure you wanna keep going?” “Yes, sir! I’ve done this before. My mom calls me a master at this.” By the time it reached 8 inches tall, he stopped the machine. He stood still at first, watching it intently. It looked like he was trying to connect his soul to the sundae, becoming one with its spirit or something. When he finally got it to stabilize, he smiled. “See, sir?” he said. Then he raised it up and dunked it in his mouth, all the way down to the cone. My eyes grew wide. Froy just took in 8 inches of freezing cold sundae in his mouth like it was nothing. “What the fuck? Did you just eat the entire thing in one bite?” He nodded, still swallowing the ice cream. When he finished, he accidentally exhaled into my face, filling my nose with his cold, breath-infused chocolate smell. He apologized and offered to wipe it off my nose. I had to tell him to stop since he still had the cone to finish. “How the fuck did you do that?” “My brothers taught me when I was younger how to exercise my gag reflex so I could take in more things. I could fit a whole foot-long in my mouth too!” he said. “It just got kinda messy… so we had to stop.” His face sunk. The cute smile he wore faded away after it seemed like he remembered something. “What happened?” “They, uh, taught me to give them blowjobs when I was 12. I thought it was normal for a few years, then they got arrested for selling drugs when I was 15. My mother told me they were horrible to me and told me what they were doing to me was wrong. So now I’m trying to find a job to pay for my mother’s hospital bills since I’m her only family left. She already used up all her savings on my tuition.” I felt horrible for him and found myself hugging him. He was stiff and caught in surprise at first, but he softened up and wrapped his arms around me too. I didn’t know he lived like this. I couldn’t take advantage of someone like him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’m so sorry.” He gave his ice cream a quick lick. “Don’t worry, sir, it’s fine. I’m over it now. I still miss them though.” “Who? Your brothers? They molested you as a kid. You shouldn’t be missing them. They deserve to rot in prison.” “We used to play games every day outside our house. They even bought me a goldfish once for my 14th birthday since it was all they could afford with their own money. I named him Pudge.” We headed back to my desk upstairs after finishing his ice cream and filing for his access card. The issue with his brothers was something we didn’t want to bring up too much in case he got triggered. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. Marcus, Wes, and I planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8pm with Froy together. After I finished up, I asked Froy if he was okay with it. It was only his first day as an intern. I wouldn’t be surprised if he declined. Who knows what we might have been planning to do to him outside office hours? “It’s okay with me, sir.” “Are you sure? I haven’t even told you what we were doing.” “Oh, uh,” he said before chuckling nervously. “We’re going to your sir Wes’s condo to drink. Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir, it’s okay with me. I’m used to being the sober one with my friends.” “Oh, okay. And don’t worry about something bad happening to you. None of us have ever done anything crazy before. Besides, Marcus is straight, and Wes is bi, but he has a family. I’m the only gay one here.” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay, sir?” “Yeah, why?” He looked away. “Nothing, sir.” That led me to wonder. Was he also gay? I guessed I could always figure that out some other time. After we packed up, we headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were paper cups everywhere. It seemed like they’d been waiting there for a few years by the way they were lounging around and drinking coffee endlessly. When we got there, Marcus walked up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some shit. It took longer than expected. Sorry ‘bout it.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “The vodka isn’t gonna drink itself!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. It was the system we developed together when we first started hanging out at bars a few months ago. Marcus hated seatbelts and feeling claustrophobic, and I preferred the safety of the seatbelt. The three of us normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. The only thing different was that we had Froy with us. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, sir, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir. Frozen yogurt.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. Froy became worried and began to panic. Wes and I had to reassure him that making fun of people’s names was just something Marcus did on a daily basis to everyone around the office. Marcus was only a year younger than me, but he had the heart of a child that he never grew out of. We loved that about him. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. I’ve been planning on going back to the gym again. If you ever wanna come with, just tell me, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” “Hey, what about me? Why do you ask the intern before your boss who you KNOW goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus asked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a promotion, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just too hard to be gym buddies with someone so short. Plus you’ve got that tiny gut.” “I can’t help it! Vodka might as well be my blood of Christ.” “So you’re a cannibal?” “What do you think happened to my first boyfriend?” The conversation continued for the next half hour on the road. Froy and I remained silent for the most part while Marcus and Wes bantered, with us being brought in every so often as jokes. Marcus couldn’t let go of “fro-yo.” The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted. Wes began getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was since his kids were getting impatient after being locked up for so long. When we got to the forest separating Wes’ condo complex from the city district, Marcus brought out these small white pills he hid inside a tic-tac box. The resemblance was uncanny. Froy and I watched him, unaware of what the pills would do. No one was around to help if Marcus did something stupid. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. Froy and I watched in silence, fully aware of what Marcus was trying to do. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise again, it’s gonna take more than a tic-tac this time.” “No, seriously, come on. It’s just a candy. Completely free. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed one on his palm. “This better not be another one of your fucking pranks, Marcus. The last one is still giving my kids diarrhea.” Wes threw the small white pill in his mouth without any hesitation. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him, Marcus?” I asked. “Dying in a car crash with you was not on my list of things to-do today.” “Mine too,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “That doesn’t make things any better, Marcus—Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable, shifting around like there was a cactus on his seat. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his pants. At first, I thought it was just viagra, but then a wet spot began to form. Wes’ face was red as a tomato and was completely speechless. I could smell the familiar smell that filled my room after school as a kid. Wes came. He came right in front of all of us. He didn’t even have to touch himself or do anything for it either. I looked back at Marcus and Froy, and Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure glee. He had the expression of a child witnessing Santa for the first time and couldn’t be happier. Froy on the other hand was completely mortified. The poor thing didn’t know how to react. Wes was barely able to keep his focus on the road because of the way he was feeling. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and turned off the truck, running out and checking the damages at a tree out of sight. The three of us followed suit. Marcus didn’t even look the least bit guilty about what he just did. Froy stood by me, waiting and watching for what happened next. “What the fuck did you give me?” Wes asked. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot all over his crotch. If we didn’t know it was cum, we might’ve mistaken it for piss just by its sheer quantity. I didn’t think it was possible to cum so much. Judging by the defined outline running down his left thigh as well, it seemed he was hiding more than just one secret. The short man had to compensate somewhere. “God damn it, Marcus.” “Come on, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I already wet myself… I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish, knowing he wasn’t going lose his job or his friendship. He walked up to Wes and helped him clean up by the tree. While Wes and Marcus were off cleaning up, Froy and I wandered a bit off to the forest to take in the beautiful nighttime scenery overlooking the city. The city lights shined brightly over the trees. They gave off an iridescent spotlight-lit night sky that shadowed the tree leaves and branches, blocking out the stars but lighting up the darkness. “This is a great view,” I said. “Yes, sir,” Froy replied. As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy noticed what looked like a shooting star in the empty sky. Wes and Marcus came over and joined us in staring at the falling light. A thought occurred to me, however, that this was not how falling stars normally worked. It looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. I’m pretty sure falling stars aren’t supposed to look like they’re coming straight at us. “Hey, that’s no fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes said. “Hide behind something!” We could barely react when we saw that it was already a building’s height away from us. Froy and I hid behind a nearby tree. Marcus sprinted across to the truck with Wes. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crash landing into the clearing between us and the truck. Flaming debris flew everywhere, covering the area in a black soot. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see things again. All four of us emerged from our hiding spots and eyed the strange rock. Froy, Wes, and I approached it hesitantly, watching it from a distance in case it had any surprises waiting to pop out and do some serious harm. It could have had some new viruses or small flesh-eating aliens hiding inside. I highly doubted our job’s insurance program covered space AIDS. Meanwhile, while three of us were being careful, Marcus decided to make a headstart and gingerly walked up to it. He stuck out his hands and felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes said. Marcus looked back and smiled. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anythingI” When the rest of us got to surround the meteor, it seemed to have cooled off. All four of us examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances sticking out. For the next few minutes, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring old rock—from space. It didn’t grow a face and sing show tunes like I expected. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “It just seems like a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus stepped into the crater and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He began pressing down on it with his body weight, trying to pressure it to crack open and reveal whatever monstrosity was inside of it. Froy and I backed away while Wes stepped forward and tried prying Marcus off of it. “Marcus, what are you doing?! Stop!” “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” Marcus let out a yell as he used all his strength and cracked open the meteor. From the crack, a neon green liquid splurged out, spilling onto Marcus’ shirt. He panicked, wondering what the hell the scentless, luminescent goo was, when suddenly the crack opened up further. It erupted, blasting a mortified Marcus with the strange gunk. He was covered head to toe, front to back, unable to even open his mouth or eyes in pure horror. The meteor now looked unstable. It was rumbling, and cracks began spreading from where Marcus first breached its outer shell. More and more of the green liquid spurted out. It didn’t seem long before it would explode. Marcus grumbled for help, running towards Wes. “Hey, stop! Don’t get that shit on me! I just got my pants dry!” Wes yelled. Before Marcus could even get to him, the meteor exploded. Nuclear green slime flew everywhere. Marcus got blasted back onto the ground by the sheer amount he was covered in. He didn’t look like he could move very well at all anymore. Wes was yelling out Marcus’ name when the goo flew into his mouth and covered his entire front from head to toe. I could hear him yelling as he swallowed it. “Sir!” As the meteor exploded towards us, Froy ran up to me. He used his body as a shield to block me from the slime, with his back spread out against the meteor. I looked up at him and saw fear in his eyes. Neither of us could move from where we were as we were frozen in absolute shock about what just happened. The meteor settled down, and there was green slime absolutely everywhere. It coated the trees, the grass, the soil, everything. Marcus was absolutely drenched in it, struggling to even stand up. Wes ran to a tree and began vomiting, trying to expel whatever he swallowed and trying to get himself clean again. Froy’s entire backside and his arms were completely covered. He shook his body as much as he could to try and get it off of him. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “That fucking—pfthuh—piece of shit meteor just fucking exploded!” Wes yelled, spitting out the remnants. “Are we going to fucking die?!” Marcus yelled, on his knees, crying in anguish at the sky, looking like a grotesque smile monster. “I don’t wanna fucking die, god!” “This is all your fault!” Wes said. “I’m fucking aware of that, Wes! I wasn’t expecting the meteor to be a fucking water balloon filled with green shit!” “Okay, everyone, just relax!” I said. “We just need to get clean and report this to the police so they can clean it up or something.” Marcus and Wes turned and glared at me, clean and dry from head to toe. “We can’t tell anyone about this! If the authorities find out we fucked with some meteor and got caught with some disease, then we might be forced to spend time in a lab until we die,” Wes said. Marcus pointed at me. “And why the fuck are you dry? Did you tell your little boytoy intern to be your shield?!” “No, he ran up to me himself. I didn’t tell him to do anything, Marcus.” “Fucking shit, man…” I stood watch by the truck while Froy, Wes, and Marcus cleaned themselves up by the river. It was nearly midnight when they got back looking absolutely exhausted after trying to get every drop of slime off their bodies for the past few hours. They dumped all their clothes in Wes’ gym bag and got into his truck in nothing but wet underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ could not even begin to explain the atmosphere. I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate all the hot, semi-naked bodies surrounding me when I was still reeling over what the hell just happened. I’d already seen all of them shirtless before at least once, but I had yet to see Froy’s business. Did he prefer boxers or briefs? Was he a shower or a grower? It didn’t seem that important. All I knew was that Wes was thick and hung like a motherfucker. “This has to be our secret, got it?” Wes said. “No one else can know about this.” We all agreed. None of us were in the mood to get dissected or experimented on for the rest of our lives. As Wes drove away, heading to his condo, I took one last look back at the scene. The meteor looked like a cracked egg that got blown up in a microwave. However, what seemed strange to me was how there seemed to be a lot less slime than before. What used to be a complete sheet of glowing green slime over everything was now mostly back to normal with some freckles here and there. It must have either dissipated in the atmosphere or got absorbed into the ground. Either way, it didn’t seem like that was just going to end there. I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t the last time this meteor was going to be a part of our lives. If the slime did get absorbed in the ground and trees, then what would happen with humans? There was no way they didn’t at least absorb some of it. There was just no way. Regardless, this was going to be our secret from now on. It seemed our little threesome just became a foursome.
  2. Introndunction: Muscle man is interrupted during workout The cell door buzzed and slid open just as the hunk inside finished another set of deadlifts. The impact of his barbell slamming onto the mat was heard throughout the compound, joining the ever-present medley of burly men lifting heavy shit. The guard paused for the reverberations to subside before stepping in. The hunk turned to face him, mouth open, chest heaving, waiting for the guard to say something. "You've been called for inspection." The guard pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. "I hope that was your last set because I'm meant to get you right away." "Man, I thought we agreed you wouldn't interrupt any of my workouts, " The hunk tossed his wrist wraps and began wiping the sweat off of his bar. "so what's this? You know there's only a few weeks left for us. Ain't got time for all-" "This isn't from us, man." The guard cut him off and opened the handcuffs. "It's from the big house. Some pompous twink came down from the estate to check on things, fuck knows why. Got a real stick up his ass. Wardens' refusing to do shit about him." The hunk finished putting on his tank top and turned around to be cuffed. "Why didn't ya'll just tell him what you tell every other pompous twink from the estate?" The door closed as they exited the cell, the guard leading the cuffed hunk toward the inspection. "All I know is this cunt is too important for any of the wardens to tell him to fuck off. So we're stuck. Prick's making shit harder for all of us." The guard spoke quietly to his prisoner. "Keeps trying to tell us what to do. Like he'd know a fucking thing about building muscles." The sound of weights and grunting grew quiet as the two men walked further from the cell block. "We'll see what he has to say. Speaking of, " The guard stops in front of his prisoner and pulls him close. "This guy is... You know how these guys are." The hunk smiled. "Don't sweat it. Let's get this over with." He turned towards the administrator office. The guard patted him on the shoulder. "Alright... Slave. Follow me." Part bullshit: The Twink Talks Too Much The pompous twink looked up from the desk and smiled as the men entered the administrator office. "Here is the prisoner you requested, Mister Master." The guard shut the door behind them. "Thank you very much. As I am sure the guard has informed you, slave, I am here to conduct an inspection of the company's property-... " The twink spoke many words and neither the hunk or the guard cared to hear most of them as evidenced by the knowing glances they kept shooting eachother. They were not accustomed to the volume of corporate garbage that spewed out from the skinny twigs on the hill. "... and although I have absolute faith in the professionalism and work ehtic of our highly trained staff in this compound-... " His words and gestures brought him up from the desk chair all the way to the examination table and ended beside the scale. He held a measuring tape in one hand and extended the other towards the guard. He was quiet long enough for the guard to realise his speech was over. "Pardon me, Mister Master?" the guard wore a puzzled look on his face same as the restrained hunk. "The keys, please. In order to accomplish what I must I need this slave to be unrestrained." The twink waited for the guard to hand over his keys. "Of course." The guard quickly unlocked the prisoner and handed the keys along with the cuffs to the twink in charge. "Thank you. Now if you will excuse me for a moment I shall begin immediately." He placed the cuffs and keys on the table. "Uh... Mister Master... " The guard stepped ahead of the prisoner as if to speak on his behalf. "Our protocol says not to leave unrestrained prisoners without the supervision of at least one guard or warden. Are you sure about carrying out this inspection alone?" "Yes, I am sure. Your protocol pertains to prisoners, not slaves. And besides, " he picked up the cuffs and twirled them around his finger "I am sure it won't be a problem now that I have these. You're excused." "Well alright, Mister Master... " The guard turned to leave. He saw the hunk with a look on his face that said What the fuck, man? and replied with an expression that said I don't fucking know, man. "I'll be outside." Part The Muscle Worship The hunk rubbed his wrists as the guard left the room. He cleared his throat and took off his tank top. He put the garment on a shelf and lowered his gaze, waiting for the twink to begin his inspection. He cleared his throat and held his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat a third time and dared to look up at the twink. Thinking he had something on his body, he looked down to see what the twink was staring at. He couldn't see what it was. "Mister Master?" The hunk waited for a response. "You wanna get started?" He stood motionless as if transfixed, leaning against the front of the desk, breathing deeply with his mouth open. His eyes blinked from the sight in front of him, at once too much but not enough to look away. They wandered over the hunk's body, from his shoulders down to his waist, up to his neck and down to his arms. The longer the twink stared the bigger the prisoner got. The more veins he could make out through his skin, the more definition manifested in his abs, the more bulges appeared on his arms, until he realized the hunk had gotten closer. The twink's breathing slowed as he felt the bodyheat radiating from the prisoner's chest on his face. "Hey. What do you want to measure, Mister Master?" The hunk spoke softly and held up his right arm to flex. "Wanna measure my biceps?" He looked over the bulging mound on his arm and smiled to himself. "Or do you wanna measure the other one? Huh?" He put his right hand up on his hip and repeated the pose with his left arm. Just as big a protrusion, just as prominent a vein. Finally the twink snapped out of his trance and turned to face away from the hunk. "No, that isn't what-..." The twink cleared his throat before taking the measuring tape in both his hands. He turned to face the hunk who had his arms crossed in front of him. "That is not what I came here for." "Well then. What do you wanna measure, little man?" The hunk looked down at the twink and teased him. "I got something if you're out of ideas." "It's your ch-... Your chest. I am here to measure you. Your chest." The twink mustered his quickly fading pompousness, put one hand on his hip and looked up at the hunk. "Would you kindly put your arms down at your sides, please?" He brought the tape around his waist as the hunk complied, unfolding his arms. "Thank you." "So it's please and thank you now, huh?" The hunk let out a hearty chuckle. "Be quiet. And put your arms behind your head, please." The twink carried the tape up and around the hunk's chest and held it to read. "What does it say?" The hunk put his arms down and leaned into the desk. He put his arms on either side of the tiny man, trapping him against the desk. "Huh? What number do you have there, little man?" "Fifty-... " The twink stuttered as the hunk closed in on him and he realized his predicament. "Fifty what? I know what it says. I coulda told you what it said. Give it here." The hunk grabbed the tape out of the twink's hands and wrapped it around his scrawny body. "Hey, what on earth do you think you-" The twink began to protest but stopped. He gave in to the thick, veiny arms putting the measuring tape around his chest and let his eyes wander over them. Over the round deltoids and defined veins that framed the behemoth in front of him. The hunk held his gaze after taking his width. "Yours didn't say fifty. Didn't say forty either." He let go of the tape and put his arms around the small man. "Put your hands up on my shoulders." The twink complied as the man who towered above him commanded. "Come here." He buried the twink's face in between his massive pecs. "Oh... Your muscles... So big... " The twink moaned into the muscular chest. He huffed and puffed as if wanting to inhale the bulging pecs into his lungs. He squeezed, rubbed, groped and massaged the beast everywhere his dainty hands could reach. "You didn't need to interrupt my motherfucking workout if you wanted all this." The hunk spoke gently. "Hm? You think that it's okay to fuck with my workout like that?" "No... Not ever... " He whispered his reply with his cheek pressed into the hunk's firm body. "You're gonna make up for my missed workout, aren't you?" He took the twink's hand in his own and guided it down his sculpted abdomen. "Yes... Oh your muscles are so-... " The twink trailed off in a sharp gasp as he felt the ripples in the hunk's developed abs. "You know a body like mine doesn't come easy." He lead the twink's soft hand down to his confined member and squeezed it. "Show me how grateful you are." The twink tried to pull his hand off the firm metal to no avail. "No, I don't-" He averted his eyes from the stud in front of him. "I could not unlock your cage. We would both be in trouble!" "Only you and I will know." He began taking off his workout pants. "I know you want to make me happy." "I do!" The twink looked up into his eyes with a pleading expression, hoping for understanding and forgivness for this supposed wrongdoing. "I would do anything for you... Anything but that." The hunk backed up, slowly releasing the twink from his muscular confinement. "That's alright, Mister Master..." He took the twink's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "That's alright... You just let me know when you're ready..." The hunk placed one final kiss on his neck. "... And don't forget about me." "No, stop- Wait!" He nearly fell over trying to get away from the bodybuilder's final caress. "What are you doing? You absolute-..." The twink rubbed the angry red blotch on his neck where the hunk had planted his lips. Before he could realize it the hunk had taken his tank and headed out the door. He was left standing in the administrator office, face flushed, neck swollen, hard as steel and wondering when he would get to see his new obsession again. Part: The Almost Whipping Congregations of swole convicts stood chattering among themselves in the sunshine. They were smoking, playing cards or throwing a hand ball. Their voices grew silent as a guard strode across the yard. The hunk tucked the ball under his arm and waited. "Need you to come with me, man." The guard made a motion for him to follow as he turned back the way he came. The hunk passed the ball to a fellow convict before hurrying to catch up with the guard. "You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" They turned a corner past the security checkpoint, leaving the cellblock behind. "And whatever it is better be worth dragging me out during yard time. You know it's only three more weeks until-" "Look, I didn't ask what you did to him because you said that you handled it. So why he asked for you by name-" The hunk grabbed the guard by his shoulder and pushed him up against the wall. "Are you talking about that baby fetus motherfucker who had his hands all over me last week? The same one?" "Yeah. Who you said that you took care of." The guard pushed the hunk away from him and straightened his uniform. "I let you get away with a lot of shit, man. But you better tell me something. Why does he want to see you again?" "No, you listen to me because I'm about to tell you something. You tell that dickless, spineless fucking warden that if he doesn't deal with this shrimp and send him back up the hill with the rest of those motherfucking-" "It's estate business." The guard emphasised each word. "What do you want him to do about it? Huh?" The hunk sighed and put his hands on his hips. "This better be the last time. Or I'll make him regret it." Part: The Definitely Whipping The twink stood panting, face flushed and sweaty, his brow was furrowed. He held a short leather whip in one hand and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the other. He wore a high collar dress shirt with frilled cuffs. He looked ridiculous. "Taking a break?" The shirtless hunk stood against a wall, his wrists chained at shoulder height on either side of him. He spoke in a condescending tone, in spite of the many red marks on his body. "Be quiet!" The twink raised his whip and struck the prisoner on his shoulder. "You absolute jerk. You have no right to speak to me that way after what you did to me." "You liked it." The hunk rolled his shoulders, his chains clattered against the wall. "Or was all that moaning and feeling me up just acting? Like you acting angry about it." The twink got up in the prisoner's face and spoke angrily. "You could not begin to understand the stress that I was forced to go through to cover up the mark you left on me, you animal." He turned away and put the whip on the desk. He rubbed the hand it was in. "We are not meant to have intimate relations with our slaves. It goes against everything that grand daddy taught us, everything that this company has been trying to acheive for-" The hunk was focused on the restraint chaining his left arm to the wall. It wiggled back and forth as he tugged. The hunk tested it by wrenching his arm towards himself. The anchor came loose and slid out of the wall. "... I needed to get closer to you. And then when we met in the office I-... Something just came over me and... I got carried away. It cannot happen again, understand?" "Why can't we just be together?" The hunk sounded earnest. He turned around and began testing the second wall restraint. "Have you not heard anything that I have been saying?" He sounded hurt. "I want to be with you, it is just that-... " the twink sighed deeply. "This acquisition is really important and- Hey, what are you doing?" The twink turned around in time to see the hunk with one foot planted on the wall, straining to rip the restraint out. The anchor flew out of the wall with a loud crash. Chunks of brick shattered on the floor. "Whew! God damn!" The hunk congratulated himself and turned around. "What were you saying?" The twink ran for the door but was grabbed by the hunk and fell on his ass. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The hunk stood over the twink with his restraints dangling from his wrists. His body was covered in angry red welts. His chest moved up and down as he breathed from the exertion. Looking up at the brute made his V-shaped body look bigger than it already was. Bulging muscles beneath every square inch of him revealed the inhuman strength that dwelled inside of him. "Please do not hurt me." The twink pleaded for mercy from the unchained beast. "Why would I do that?" The hunk fished the keys out of the twink's pockets. "Why would I hurt you, huh? Because you chained me up to a fucking wall?" "I am sorry, please just-" "Oh, because you fucking whipped me when I couldn't defend myself? Is that why I would hurt you? Or because you called me an animal?" He lifted him up by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, his feet dangling inches off the floor. "Look at me, " he forced the twink to meet his gaze and spoke quietly, "I don't give a fuck about an inspection, discipline or whatever other bullshit you come up with. I best not never, ever, see you in this cellblock again. I won't beat your ass this time." He dangled the keys next to his face. "But I will hold on to these." He let go and exited the office, keys firmly in his pocket. Part: The P-valley fan fiction The convicts who shared their pod with the hunk experienced a growth spurt immediately after his encounter with the twink. They unearthed a kinship that had been buried deep inside of them for years. Collectively the burly men managed to pack on more muscle mass in that one week than they had in any week previous. Word spread throughout the penitentiary of Cellblock D and its inhabitants, of the musclebound hunks that walked its halls and where everybody seemed like they were happy to be locked up. News eventually reached a grand daddy. He sat in the backseat with his grand son while their chauffeur drove them to the estate. "How in the hell did those slaves get a universal chastity cage key? Hm?" The twink looked at the key that was stolen from him, now in the hands of his grand daddy. He did not say a word. "... Are you fuckin our slaves?" The grand daddy was staring intently at the twink. "No!" The twink shot a quick glance at his grand daddy. He sounded nervous. "Well somebody must have grovelled at more than just your feet to get this. Somebody must have grovelled at your dick." "I have not made any intimate contact with our slaves, grand daddy, that is absolutely-" "Whoever you are fuckin is you and your daddy's business." The twink gulped at the thought of his daddy finding out what he had been doing. "I just want to know how you lost something like this, boy." He held the key up to emphasize his point. "I guess I must have had it on me and-... Lost it somewhere in the cellblock." The twink looked back at his grand daddy who had put the key away and turned his head to the side. "The only reason I was in that compound-... I wanted to make sure everything was right before the acquisition-" The grand daddy put his hand up. "Look, just spare me the motherfuckin bullshit. No, those slaves have fucked you. And probably fucked this whole acquisition." The grand daddy took a deep breath. "I've gotta go in this fuckin estate, talk to your daddy about un-fuckin this situation, and gettin this fuckin acquisition done. You just keep your dick out of that cellblock, boy." He exited the car and went up the estate stairs, key in hand. The twink stayed in the car, head buried in his hands. "Mister Master? We have arrived." The chauffeur looked at the sad twink in the rear-view mirror. The twink sat back, told the driver where he wanted to go and buckled his seat belt. The driver pulled off and began the journey to the growth labs. Part: Mega Muscle Mania AKA The Fight The cell door buzzed and slid open. The hunk sat up on his bunk and folded his book. A colossus made out of meat, muscles and rough skin stretched over veins stood in the doorway. The giant was squeezed into a guard's uniform. He ducked his head under the door frame and aangled his broad shoulders to enter the cell. "You need to accompany me." The hunk laughed upon arriving at the administrators office. The debris was removed. Two holes remained in the brick wall where he had wrenched himself free. "Here." He fished the chastity cage key out of his pocket, tossed it into the air and caught it. "This what you want, right?" "Take off your clothes, slave." The hunk stood motionless. He saw something in the eyes of the beast. "Right now!" The beast bellowed in a deep voice. "... Mister Master?" The hunk looked up and down the behemoth, looking for a sign of the pompous twink. "What the fuck happened to you?" The beast chuckled and took off the prison guard shirt. "Got big. Even bigger than you. Bigger than any of you slaves could ever be." He tensed his abs, showing deep grooves in his muscular body. "Are you still going to beat my ass, huh? You cannot do anything to me now, slave." He approached the hunk. The hunk backed up into the desk. "Look, whatever you think you came here to do-" "I came here to see you. They know what I have done. Daddy knows." He laughed. "The acquisition is tomorrow. Luckily for you, slave, I want to be with you one last time before it is all over. Now will you kindly take off your clothes." "Look, I get it. That was a little outta line. But this ain't-" "Stop talking, slave. I have waited long enough for this moment, and now I have the strength to make you do as I say. Take off your clothes or I will have to hurt you." The hunk turned his body and clenched his fists. "Listen, you little twink... You don't want a run with me." "Have it your way, you insolent cretin." The beast pounced at the hunk. The hunk rolled over the table and kicked it at the beast. The beast caught it, picked it up and yelled. "I will teach you respect!" He threw the good oak desk at the hunk who narrowly dodged out of the way. Shards of wood splintered off the fractured desk and landed on the floor. The beast tried to grab the hunk but staggered backwards from a fast uppercut. The hunk did not relent, battering the beast with practiced precision. The beast struck out with one arm, shoving his attacker away. "You ain't a fighter, twink." The hunk put his hands up to fight. The beast roared and swung his fists, throwing haphazard punches in the hunk's direction. One blow connected and with enough force to send the hunk reeling backwards. The beast stood triumphant, his heavy chest was moving up and down in time with his quickened breathing. "You're not that fucking strong either." The hunk charged at the beast and pummeled his midsection. As the giant keeled over, the hunk forced his elbow down onto his back, knocking him onto the floor. The beast was gasping for air, clutching its meaty body and wheezing. "... Savage... I will kill you..." The beast gasped and heaved for every breath. The hunk kicked the heaving beast onto the floor, eliciting an earthy roar. "You can't fight." He kicked his pained adversary in the back. "You can't move." He kicked the beast in his stomach, evoking further anguished struggling for breath. "You can't even hardly breathe." The hunk backed away to catch his own breath. He picked up the prison guard's shirt. "... No. You really can't do anything." The hunk walked over to the panting mass of muscle and grabbed him by the belt. With a roar he lifted the beast over his head and threw him into the desk. The legs crumbled from the force of the impact. The countertop shattered under the weight of his muscles. The hunk looked over the defeated giant, at the bruises he had left for him, the places where splinters had embedded themselves in his flesh. The beast stopped moving. The hunk began to undress. Part: The motherfucking epilogue, bitch. Motherfucking closure, bitch. Happily ever fucking after, bitch. The twink woke to a dull pain growing in his back. He heard pattering on the window. It was day time. Amidst the trees was a van parked beside the building he found himself in. As he shifted on the mattress he roused several sharp tingles. On his ribs, his arms, his jaw. Suddenly everywhere was shooting pain. He shouted from the agony. Only a rasp was able to make it out of his parched throat. The bunk creaked as he tossed and turned in misery. A muscled arm stretched itself toward him. It offered a drink of water. "It hurts." Even after drinking he still sounded like death. "Got some salve that might help but..." The hunk looked at the tub of cream in his hand. "Lie still. You gotta rest." "Where am I?" The twink looked out onto the van again. Secure Transport - Lannahechee State Penitentiary He shut his eyes tight and braced himself against the pains that stabbed at his body. "It's a safehouse. Carlton city's not far. Should be able to get outta here in a few days, maybe a week." The hunk looked over the familiar shape of the pompous twink. He looked as when he was bulked up and gasping for his life. His skinny body was curled up under the cover with oversized bruises. They looked more painful on his small frame than they had on the giant that threw the office desk. "It hurts..." He groaned in pain. The hunk sat on the edge of the bunk. "You'll be alright, little man." He took the twink's hand in his own. He looked at the rain pouring outside of the window. "You'll be alright." *** THE END ***
  3. JasperGhost

    Inch High Muscle

    I am being used as a Guinea pig in this lab. They took me from my dorm and now they are experimenting on me. They put a hood over my head and we flew for thirty minutes, give or take, then we landed and I was carried from the aircraft to a dark tunnel. They removed the hood and the doctor's assistants stripped me down to my underwear, strapped me to a table and he injected me with this purplish blue colored stuff. There was a rush of pain and heat. My muscles are starting to inflate. My arms expanding from weak twigs into powerful pythons. My biceps are looking like footballs! I flex them against the straps trying to get free. They jump off my arms and look like bowling balls as my triceps went from not being there into horseshoes as strain against the straps. My shoulders are now capped with massive amount bulging muscles. My chest is swelling up from a flat almost concave look into two slabs of powerful meat. I love how they feel as I flex, continuing to pull against the straps. The straps that are holding my arms finally give away to my new power. Moving my now free hands to my muscled chest and down across my abs. Wow my abs feel like bricks. I now have an eight pack midsection. Twisting I see a mirrored wall and see how my upper body looks when flexing. I have wings, my lats are bigger than the biggest jock at my college. I feel my legs swell up into powerful pillars of support. I can see my calves from the front of my legs, as I'm sitting on the table. I flex my huge and powerful legs and the straps across my legs pop as if they are made of paper. I'm standing staring at my quads in the mirror. They stand out over my knees and I can see every head. My underwear is getting very tight. I now have a bubble butt and the leg holes are staining against my quads. My groin is growing. My small manhood is changing. It is getting bigger, longer, and thicker. I can feel my tiny balls getting bigger and heavier. It feels like I am going through puberty again as hair spreads from groin and slowly fades as it climbs up between my abs toward my now massive chest. I was a 22 year old nerd and I now am bigger than a heavyweight bodybuilder. Finally the changes have stopped and I feel the need to try my strength out. I cannot control this need to see if I can lift the barbell sitting in the room. I walk over to the massive barbell with huge looking weights. I seize the thick bar and lift. The huge weight looks like it is fake as I curl, so easily. The power in my arms is incredible. I want to test my strength more and start to bend the huge bar. I bend it until the plates are touching, but I don't stop there. I force the steel weights together and mold the entire weight into a ball of metal. I can see the group of people that did this to me and the huge erections with wet spots on their trousers. The doctor is grinning and saying something to one of his assistants. I cannot hear him because they are outside the thick door but I figure it is about what I just did to the barbell. As I continue to compress the huge metal ball into a tighter wad a bright light comes. The light engulfs me completely and horrible pain shoots through my body. I don't remember much, I must have passed out from the pain. I'm awake and it looks like I am in a bird cage. A big bird cage? How can I be in a birdcage? That has been made into a small house. I have on a pair of shorts now. I don't know where they came from but they fit snug and leave nothing to the imagination. I look around and see a little bedroom, private bathroom, kitchen, and what looks like a den/living room. I see the doctor and the his assistants are headed toward where I am so I quickly lay back down to pretend I'm still unconscience. The doctor and his assistant are talking and they are close enough that I can hear them. The assistant says, "He is the first to make it through both processes." "The young man," another assistant says to the doctor, "made it through the biological process and now is only one foot tall. Why did we shrink him Doctor?" "Because," the Doctor replies sharply, "if we didn't shrink him, he would be stronger than any man here. You saw what he did to those straps and that 700 pound barbell. He is stronger than any person I've seen and you want him to just walk around free. By the way did you take care of the bodies of the failures?" The assistant replies to the doctor, "The others have been destroyed completely. What is going to happen to the new subject?" "Once we are done with the rest of the test he will have to be destroyed as well." A cold chill ran down my spine. I need to figure out how I am going to escape. I'll wait until night and try to get out of here. Finally it is time to make my escape. Looking at the bars of my new home, I decide to see if I can bend them. Holy crap, they bend as if they are mere pipe cleaners. Grabbing the bars of my cage and bending them until I make an opening big enough to fit my twelve inch high and thickly muscled body through. Now I have to figure out how to get off this high counter. It looks to high for me to jump down and I don't see anything to make a rope. A security guard walks into room as I just step close to the edge of the counter top. I quickly step back and get very close to the cage hoping I will not be seen. I cannot help but notice how big and muscular he is. I have always loved big muscle men and jocks. I've always known I was gay but never acted on it. I was so small and weak and I could not get enough courage to talk to one. I can't keep from ogling the big guard. His forearms are thick, veins crisscrossing crossing and hairy. His biceps look to be as big as basketballs and his shirt sleeve looks like it is straining to contain it. His chest is wide and hairy. His shirt is open revealing his meaty, hairy pectorals and I am so hard. He has a bull neck and traps that look like he could win any competition. As he moves into the room I watch his legs fight each other for room. His tight pants worn thin from the constant friction as his package is very prominent. I guess if you are making super strong kids you need a strong muscular man to help control them. As he walks by, he gets close enough I can grab hold of him and hopefully use him to get out of here. I reach out to grab his wrist. He moved his arm up and all I did was bump his index finger. He jumps at being bumped by something and has to take a closer look at what just hit his hand. He bends down to where I am standing and takes a closer look at me. I can now see his face, the thick head of hair and beard make him look hotter. He smiles at me, "What are you doing out of your cage little mouse?" reaching his big paw out to grab me. I have to do something so I deliver an uppercut to his chin. The big muscle man's head snaps back as he slams into the brick wall. I cannot believe I just hit that huge man, let alone knock him into a brick wall. He is now sitting on the floor leaning against the wall with a dazed look. I have to see if I can off this table before he comes too. I take a giant leap and land on his broad shoulder. The big man let out an "Ooff" as I land on him. His shoulder is solid under foot. I squat down and feel his strong shoulder. I move so I can run my hands across the hairy pec I am standing on. He feels warm and his pec is hard, but the hair is thick and soft. I walk down his massive chest and take hold of his shirt. I can't stop myself from ripping it open. I am now standing on his cobblestone abs staring up at this huge mountain of muscle. I feel my cock stir more as I look at this muscle man that I just knocked silly. I am getting turned on by the fact that at one foot tall I just knock a massively built man, that has to be over six feet plus and well over 250 pounds of pure muscle, to the floor with one punch. I wouldn't be able to bust his lip when I was full size let alone be able to knock him down. I need to know what I can do. Once again I've got this need to see what I can do. Walking up to his nipple I take hold and squeeze it. He moans and I see his monstrous cock stir. I have to see if I can lift this man. It is like I am compelled to use my strength. I jump down to the floor and shift so that I am under him. I grab hold of his firm buttocks and lift his entire body off the floor. It feels as if he is filled with helium, he is so light! My cock is now at full mast and I am so turned on. I lower him back down and jump back on him. I've always wanted a hairy muscle man and now I have one underfoot, literally. I slap his face and wake him up. Grabbing his beard I pull his face forward so he can look at me. His eyes blinking trying to clear his head. He is finally sitting up on his own, rubbing his chin and jaw. "What happened?" he groggily asks. "I hit you and slammed into the wall." I reply. "You?" he asks as his eyes grow wide and he sees me standing before him. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but you reached for me and I got scared. Plus you called me mouse!" "My shirt?" "Yeah! I wanted to see if you were as big as the shirt made you look. Your not, you are bigger." I said firmly. "I don't know exactly how you got me down here but you are going back into your cage!" His massive hand closed around me and he started to squeeze. I flex my massive muscled body back against his hand. Shock shot across his face as he started to loose this battle of strength. He quickly added his other massive paw but I felt no difference in the struggle. I am starting to leek precum as I watch his face turn red. His arms flexed to the max his tight shirt sleeves are now ripping. Sweat running down his massive chest causing the hair to mat. I continue to force his hands apart and finally break his grip. I feel like Hercules as he breaks apart chains. Shock is on the guards face and I do a most muscular. The shock looks changes into a different look and I turn around and look at his cock. His poor erection is straining against his tight pants. My own cock is straining against these tight shorts. "Poor thing." I say to him. "Your big muscles are weaker than this, what did you call me, oh yeah, Mouse!" His face now has a look of anger as he realizes he lost a direct test of strength. He swings his massive hand to hit me and I catch it easily. The difference is incredible. His wrist is almost as wide as my chest, yet I stopped his arm easily. Holding his wrist tightly I jump down from his waist and now force his massive arm up behind his thick muscle laden back. This feeling of overpowering such a big man is making me hornier and hornier. I force his arm up his back making him squeal in pain. I hold his arm in the painful position before releasing and letting it fall to the floor limp. I reach up and rip what is left of his uniform shirt off of him and move back in front of him. He surprised me as he jumped up and tried to run toward the door. I ran after the giant and easily caught up to him I was amazed at how fast I could run. I grabbed his thick calf and tripped him. Never letting go I pulled the big man into the center of the room. He kicked me in the back of my head as we made it to the center. I turned around to look at him and he tried to kick me again. I caught his other leg and moved them so that I now stood with his shins under each arm. I smiled at him and then started turning. I got faster and faster until he was lifted off the floor. The huge muscle stud was yelling while I hurled him through the air. I let go and he went flying. I laughed as he was flying through the air and crashed into some kind of a machine. Walking over to him I decided to remove his shoes, socks and then his pants. While I was pulling his pants off the guard woke up. "Where are my clothes?" he cried out. "You have smaller problem to worry about." He tried to get up again but I stopped him. I jumped onto his back making him collapse and grabbing his huge thick biceps on both arms. I pulled both arms back hard. Standing in the middle of his rippling back I pulled his arms until he was arching up. I moved his arms so I could hold them with one arm. I had to stop his legs from kicking. I caught one ankle and pulled. This giant muscle guard looked like my surfboard. His squirming finally subsided as I help the muscle stud easily. Letting go his big limbs feel to the floor. I finally couldn't take it any more and had to get these constricting shorts off. RRIIPP and they were gone. "That's not fair," I said, "I am free and you are not." Before he could respond I had his underwear off of him. Stepping down I went to flip him over onto his back when he struck me. His fist as big as my torso is tall now. His big fist slammed into me and he let out a scream of pain. I laughed at him and punched him again. This time I hit his abs and the big man doubled over and slid a good twenty feet. I walked over to him and grabbed one of his huge testicles. I squeezed and he yelped. The power was amazing. I let go and grabbed his massive rod. "Get on your hands and knees, now!" I told him. He didn't hesitate. I held his massive rod and made him crawl into the center of the lab. I then stroked his massive cock. The big muscular bear of a man was moaning and groaning and now thrusting his hips as my strong but tiny hands pleased him. Just as he was about to explode I clamped down hard on his dick. "Do not make a sound!" He stifled his scream and he started to cry. "Now turn around. Face me. Lay down on your belly." He did as he was told. I walked up to his face and forced my steel rod into his mouth. I then proceeded to use his mouth to grind out an orgasm like I have never felt. When I shot my load a made him drink it all. I dropped his chin and looked at his face. His green eyes were glazed over. His lips were busted, nose bleeding and he had a black eye. I turned him over and walked up his shoulder, across his expanse of a chest, down his cobblestone abs and seized his still hard and throbbing cock. In one hand I pulled his cock and with the other I grabbed his balls. I pulled his lower body up into the air. His throbbing member pointed at his face. With just a few strokes my new slave exploded all over his own face. I let go and let him flop on the floor. I walked to the side of his head and saw he was crying. This huge man with these huge muscles and once so tough was crying. "Take me to the room where I was shrunk and make me normal again!" I commanded, "Or you will be my target for my frustrations forever!" The big man cried, "Okay, please don't hurt me anymore. Stand over there." he pointed and slowly got to his feet. I walked over to where he pointed and stood. He staggered over to a machine and hit buttons. Lights engulfed me and the pain, but it felt different. After a second or two the lights went out and the machine exploded. The big man was thrown back from the console. I ran over to where he laid and realized I was bigger. I looked at the reflection in the glass and saw that I was maybe three feet tall now. I felt bad for the big man and hoisted him up in my arms. I carried him back to where his pants were and put them back on him. Then once again I carried him to his car, putting him in the drivers seat. Slowly woke him up and made him take him to his home.
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