Search the Community

Here's another blast from the past written by Lorus for the old forum and saved in my private collection of erotic gems. I'm reposting it here with the author's permission. Mike Hugeman was mentioned in BOOM!, the short story I reposted earlier, so I thought it would be good for readers to know who he is. No one who meets the Hugeman ever forgets him. I certainly haven't. The story has eight episodes followed by a teaser for a sequel. I will post all of them in the same thread. MIKE HUGEMAN SUPER-POWERED MUSCLE WHORE by LORUS Episode 1 The room shook from the force of Ken Preston having the fuck pounded out of his cute bubble-ass. It was his birthday, this day, and he’d used the money he’d gotten from his parents to hire the Hugeman for an afternoon, rather than put it towards his new car. The greatest gay whore in the entire city of Stillbrook didn’t come cheap either, considering he charged five hundred dollars an hour. Not everyone could afford him, but Ken had been building up to this for an entire year of scrimping and saving, deciding that if he was going to lose his virginity, then he was going to do it in style, with the best dick in the world impaling him along its incredible length. “Oh God, this is fucking... ugh... amazing. Don’t...ugh... want it to stop!!!!” Ken was face down on the bed, knees dug into the sheets so that his angelic, heavily lubricated ass pointed upwards. Mike Hugeman, the most super-huge, awesomely massive mega-bodybuilder in the world, rode into the youth with all the experience his craft would ever provide him. He was super-hung, sporting a dick that was a solid eighteen inches long when fully hard. It was thick, too, thicker than a beer can. Given that this was Ken’s first time having sex of any kind, Mike was surprised at just how well he took his meat, imagining the kid probably practiced every day with dildos of ever-increasing dimensions. He loved his work, and was proud of his physical accomplishments, often posing and flexing his enormously pumped muscles during the fucking of his clients. He was versatile, too, and would often grant his customers many of the requests they made of him. Ken was new to this, sure. He would be exhausted afterward, which suited Mike. He had to get to the gym within the hour. It was leg day, and his wheels needed an intense workout. He’d already made the kid shoot his load just by bicep-flexing five minutes after arriving at the dilapidated hotel room. He was used to better surroundings, but reckoned the kid was on a tight budget. Besides, he’d had cockroaches for spectators before, and had fucked in worse places than this. The kid was inexperienced, but his balls were big and round and held a lot of jizz. He would bring him to another incredible orgasm before the hour was up, after which any sex Ken would ever have in his life after this would never match up to the ride he got from the Hugeman. “Take it all in... all of my massive muscle-meat, you little twinkster, yeah fuckin’ moan and scream the Hugeman’s name, ugh yeah!” The bed took as much of a pounding as Ken did, for it groaned under Mike’s huge weight, which was getting close to six hundred pounds, since he’d really thrown himself into his beloved bodybuilding. He loved lifting and he loved fucking. You could say that he lived for these pastimes and nothing else. He was well-known in his native Stillbrook and was totally out about his whoring and his desire to get bigger and stronger. No other gay whore in the city could make the kind of money Mike made, so it could be said that he was the king of his hill, with fuck all in the way of competition. But that was soon to change, along with his life, forever. Meantime, he brought the twinkster to a howling orgasm once again and flared his lats in triumph as his organ, gorged on blood and pumping for all it was worth, penetrated Ken over and over, hurting him in throes of awesome ecstasy from which the eighteen year old hoped he would never recover. Usually, Mike was wider than most doorframes, loving how he had to squeeze sideways just to get in and out of rooms. When he flared his lats it seemed like his body got wider still. Coupled with the rush of his orgasms, his energy levels would peak, and his muscles spring erect and huge. When he flared his lats during ejaculation, he was at his biggest and widest, and the skin across his back groaned in defiance of his increase in size, almost to the point of splitting apart and causing him injury. But it never did. He was strong as an ox... hell... he was strong as a dozen oxen. Ken’s time was almost up. Mike had been pacing himself and could have climaxed long before now. In truth he had a hyperactive sex drive and could easily be ready to orgasm again just two or three minutes after cumming, and his tennis-ball-sized gonads acted rapidly when it came to replenishing their jizz stocks. “Fuck me to death”, pleaded Ken, but Mike would never do that. Despite his ruggedly handsome looks and tough-guy persona, he was pretty much a nice 22-year old Italian American, with only an occasional short fuse, who still found time to visit his Sicilian mama for the best home-cooked pasta in all of Creation. He often joked to his friends that it was his mama’s cooking that was to blame for his enormous muscle-growth. In all honesty, the hunk had no idea why nature had singled him out with such an incredible ability to grow a huge, hulking muscle-bod. He loved getting larger, showing up at get-togethers and causing his friends to gawp in disbelief at how much larger he’d become since they’d last seen him. This got him thinking about the gym, now, and satisfying his other voracious appetites for the good things in life. It was time to blast the twinkster out of it. He gripped the sides of the bed as he gave one final lunge into Ken, his body tensing as it hardened into a seizure of ejaculation. A gushing torrent of creamy spunk erupted from Mike’s eighteen-incher, and he positively adored cumming inside his clients. He didn’t care about disease, for it was impossible to find condoms to fit his gigantic whore’s dick, and his doctor was astounded by the fact that having had unprotected sex with more than four thousand paying clients since he’d started out at just sixteen years of age, that he hadn’t once picked up an STD. He really was a superman in every sense of the word, with a superb immunity to disease that was unprecedented. Ken screamed his loudest as the Hugeman ravaged his hole, pumping a massive load of cum into his body. Even after pulling out of him Mike continued to spurt cum all over his newest client. More and more of the steaming cream soiled Ken and the bed they rode on. Mike then grabbed hold of Ken and firmly turned him around on the bed, so that he was facing up. The look of sheer pleasure on the youth’s face was a sight to behold, and his gaping mouth seemed hungry for Mike’s elixir. He did not disappoint and eagerly shot more and more cum, this time allowing Ken to swallow a great deal of it. “God, it seems I can cum more and more as I get bigger,” Mike bragged and allowed Ken to take his fill. Finally exhausted, Ken slipped into a satisfied slumber, spread-eagled on a grimy bed, and drenched in the Hugeman’s spunk. “My work here is done,” said Mike, and muscle-strutted into the ensuite bathroom to take a shower. The plumbing groaned and spluttered as he lathered himself up with the shower gel from his kit bag. As it was summer, he seldom wore a shirt when he was out in public because he simply loved to show off his gigantic muscle-bod. He was a regular sight on the streets, posing for all he was worth, sometimes allowing guys to come up and touch his thickly-veined muscles, but only if they had cold hard cash for the privilege. Mike Hugeman never gave anything away for free. It simply wasn’t his style. He decided to get ready for the gym here in the hotel room, which didn’t take long. He’d arrived wearing only stretch-denim jeans, his upper body glistening from a mixture of sun-tan lotion and baby oil. Now he placed the jeans in his kit bag and pulled on a sexy pair of black and blue striped spandex workout shorts that did little to tone down the massive bulge his cock and balls formed at their front. He couldn’t wait for it to be larger, too, for it seemed that his cock grew another inch for every fifty pounds of muscle he put on. “Fuckin’ HUGE,” he declared as he bounced the massive shelf of his pecs up and down for a couple of minutes as he dried his ravishing black hair with a hairdryer. He was completely beautiful and loved how his father’s looks married so well with the Italian in him. He’d once been told he looked like a cross between a young John Travolta and Robert Redford. He agreed with this comparison, but reckoned he was many times more handsome than the two actors in their youth. Mike got more and more beautiful with each passing day. He had sparkling blue eyes set beneath a confident brow that complimented his rugged, square jaw-line beautifully. He had full, pouting lips, the bottom larger than the top one, and when they parted to form a smile he had perfect white teeth. He always maintained thick, designer stubble which went well with the curly black hair on some of his chest, which he never shaved. He loved having a lot of hair on his front, and he especially loved how his chest hair tapered down to a fuzzy treasure trail that formed a pleasurable tongue’s highway between his chest hair and his thick but trimmed pubic tuft. At the special request of some of his regular customers, he never shaved his armpits, and the dark bushy growth he had in them was so beautiful, merely lifting his arms and flashing his pits was enough to drive some of his customers to complete, frenzied orgasm. It was time to leave. He sprayed himself with sexy cologne that enhanced his natural masculine musk and flexed some more in the mirror before helping himself to the cash the twinkster left beside the bed. There was a business card sticking halfway out of Ken’s wallet, not that it was any of Mike’s business. But curiosity got the better of him and so he looked at it. And then he got mad... very mad. Episode 2 The sensation that he was no longer asleep, but instead floating mid-air in a slight summer breeze, brought Ken Preston shrieking back to consciousness. He was no longer spread-eagled on a cum-sodden bed, or even in the hotel room, for that matter. Mike Hugeman had taken him up the fire escape to the roof of the hotel. Somewhat maliciously, the massive muscle-whore dangled him over the side, holding him only by his right wrist, like a small child would carelessly carry around a beaten-up old teddy. Beneath him was a twelve story drop that would surely kill him were the Hugeman to let go. “What are you doing to me?” Fear had caused Ken to urinate but thank goodness nothing else came out of him. This didn’t make sense. Why had Mike taken him up to the roof of the hotel? What had Ken done to deserve such a fate? The giant muscleman got to the point somewhat gruffly. “Why do you have an UltraZen business card in your wallet?” In the hands of the Hugeman, Ken Preston hardly weighed anything at all. He leaned out over the edge as far as he could extend his bull-strong arm, causing Ken to kick and dance in mid-air as he tried desperately to get closer to the roof. “I don’t... don’t know what that is, Mike. Puh-pleeeese, let me back in. I’ll pay you more money, I swear. I’ll cash in my college fund.... just please let me...” “That wasn’t the answer I expected, you little bastard. Shit, I think my fingers are losing’ their grip.” Mike feigned a worried look as he pretended to lose hold of the terrified teen. Then, ever so audaciously, Mike ripped off his spandex shorts, causing his dick to spring forth like a striking rattle snake. It instantly grew super-hard and began to ooze copious amounts of precum. He brought Ken in a bit, flipped him around and rammed his ass with his dick, but only halfway along its length. Then he stood perched on the edge of the roof, so that Ken was now once again dangling, held in place by the power of the Hugeman’s cock alone. “Look, mama, no hands,” Mike goofed, and imagined his dick growing bigger and bigger whilst impaling Ken and pushing him ever further from the edge of the roof. To emphasize just how in-control he was of this situation, Mike shot a massive bicep pose, cranking up his guns from their cold size of 32 inches around, to a staggering 42 inches. Whilst Ken quaked in fear on the end of his monster dick, the Hugeman kissed each of his biceps, flexing them harder and harder, forcing more and more blood to distend his veins, bulging them outwards like thick, ropy cables. “Pity you can’t see this from your position, twinkster. You’re missing one hell of a show,” Mike boasted, marveling at how monstrously huge and powerful his guns were becoming. Every day it seemed that he’d grown a little. He was constantly in awe of just how massive he was. But he was never satisfied with his gains. He wanted more and more size, strength, incredible beauty, and unbeatable power. He began to contract the muscles in his groin, causing his dick to bob upwards, still with the terrified young man impaled on it. “Hey this is a great workout for my dick muscles. You must weigh about one-fifty. Hell, I could perch two more of you on my hot super-cock, and still bounce it upwards. I’m just so goddam fucking huge and powerful. I’m so ultra-fucking-gorgeous. But I don’t like to be fucked with. I won’t ask you again, what the fuck is an UltraZen card doing in your wallet?” Sobbing fitfully, Ken was as truthful as he could be. “It’s my dad’s wallet... his spare one. I luh-lost my own a while buh-back... so he gave me his one. It muh-must be his cuh-card.” In the street below, a curious crowd had begun to gather. The Hugeman considered what Ken said, and after a minute decided to let him in. He placed the crying birthday boy down on the rooftop and stood towering over him, his body heaving with power in every sinew and fiber that made him so amazing. He flared his lats somewhat threateningly, but in truth posing helped him to think clearly. “Hmm, you could be telling the truth. You seem honest enough. But if your father works for those crooked bastards then I’m going to fuck him harder than I fucked you.” It was a vow which Mike promised to keep. He went to his kit bag and pulled out a spare pair of shorts which he quickly put on. They were grey in color and immediately a precum stain formed in them, but Mike didn’t care. He was just minutes away from causing so many guys in the locker room of Joel’s Gym on Church St to make with their own precum. “I hardly see my dad, ‘cos he’s always working. I think they may be clients of his. He’s in advertising. That’s all I know, Mike. I swear.” Ken was still crying. Mike suddenly felt bad. He pulled a clean towel out of his bag and gave it to Ken to dry his tears with. “Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away. UltraZen tried to recruit me into their organization a couple of years back. They offered me a free health assessment and free membership to their ultra-modern super-gym. But all they really wanted was a sample of my tissue to experiment with. They think I’m some kind of mutant, ‘cos I can grow so big. A mutant, can you fucking believe it?” Ken now understood why the Hugeman had flown off the handle. But the experience still had him rattled. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t gonna drop you, twinkster. And even if I had, I could easily have leaped down to ground-level to catch you before you hit the concrete.” Smiling the most beautiful smile Ken had ever seen on any man, actor, supermodel, athlete or bodybuilder, Mike did a side chest pose and hefted up his medicine ball-sized pectorals, beefing them up to super-striated status. His chin immediately became lost in the meat of his upper pecs, creating the illusion that his head was about to be devoured by his muscle-tits. He couldn’t wait to inflate these babies through further workouts. He really was obsessed with his bodybuilding and obsessed with himself. “I deserve a free session for what you did, Mike. It was cruel of you.” Fear and upset rapidly began to give way to anger. Ken had every right to be angry. Mike thought about this. He guessed the kid was right. He dug into his bag to return his five hundred bucks. “No – keep the money. I meant another session, on the house, of course. Or I’ll tell the cops what you did to me.” “Hmmm, Hugeman in the State Pen for attempted murder. Lots of jailhouse ass for me to pound. Communal showers and I heard they’ve got one of the best gymnasiums in the state. I could get really fucking HUGE in jail, not that any cell could hold me.” Mike scratched his gorgeous stubbly chin as his mind set off to explore such a fantasy. In jail he could be worshipped far more intensively than in normal life. But on the other hand, he’d miss his mama’s pasta. Nah, it was best to keep on the right side of the law. “Blackmail doesn’t suit you, twinkster. But you’ve got yourself a deal. One free session it is. But not right now, ‘cos I have to get to the gym to beef up further. You can come by my place tonight at 9pm. I live at Pinewood Heights on Reginald and Main, Apartment 12, on the top floor. I promise not to dangle you from my balcony. I usually do webcam hulk-outs at that time, but tonight, for you, I’ll make an exception.” That said, the Hugeman leaped into the air and out from the edge of the rooftop. In a single bound he was across to the adjacent building, coming down heavily with a mighty stomp powerful enough to loosen every tile on the ceiling of the rooms below. He chuckled to himself, delighting at how huge and hulking he was. Suddenly the unexpected happened. The force of his connection with the second rooftop was enough to jar the body of the peeping Tom who’d been observing his antics through binoculars. The guy was dressed in combat fatigues, but he seemed too fat to be a real soldier. He staggered drunk-fashion out from behind an extractor fan assembly and puked up his McDonald’s lunch all over his boots. “What the fuck? Were you spying on me you fat fucking pervert? I’ll break you in half for that. The Hugeman never gives it away for nothing.” Fuming, Mike snatched the binoculars from the peeping Tom and crushed them into tiny bits of broken glass, metal, and plastic. He felt like ripping out the extractor fan unit and using it to beat the living crap out of the fatty. He was strong enough to do it, too. He thought about the prison fantasy again. “Puh-please... don’t hurt me,” the slob in camouflage pleaded. On a hot day like this the smell of expelled stomach acids soon became unbearable. Mike wasn’t hanging around. He was going to charge this pervert for the privilege of watching him perform on the twinkster, and so he grabbed him by the scruff of his fatigues and searched through his pockets for a wallet. He found it without any trouble. It bore the motif of UltraZen. Mike’s blood began to boil. He flared red in the face and puffed himself up to a massively muscular rage. He soon forced a confession out of the peeping Tom, whose name turned out to be Lenny Simmons. Mike listened to everything he had to say: “They hired me to watch the boy. I slipped the business card into his wallet when he dropped it at McDonald’s before meeting you. It was meant to get your attention. After the kid left the hotel I was to take him out with a tranquilizer dart and drive him to an abandoned warehouse at the docks – unit 108. There the kid would have your jizz extracted from him. What they do with it after that is none of my beeswax” Mike needed to flex while he thought about this. He pushed out a crab pose that caused his muscles to striate massively, bunching together with almost electrical ferocity. Like the comic book Hulk, anger seemed to inflate Mike lately, something he was curious about. If he could make an actual ability of this, then he could will himself far huger whenever it pleased him to. He was getting turned on, too, and his second pair of shorts began to part at the seams as his cock, once again, stood to attention. The wet bulge inflating in his crotch was enormous. Simmons couldn’t take his eyes off it. He wasn’t gay but his contact at UltraZen had given him a dossier on Hugeman, and the gigantic bodybuilder had fucked straight guys before, just because it suited him to. The shorts would not withstand a full erection, not when he was this angry, boiling blood surging through every last inch of him. “Get the fuck off this rooftop, Simmons. And don’t contact UltraZen under any circumstances. Your driver’s license was in your wallet, so I know where you live. Think I’ll be holding on to that for insurance. I’m going to pay a visit to that warehouse. If you warn them I’m coming, I’ll pound that house of yours into rubble, with you in it. Got that?” When the Hugeman spoke, he had to be heeded. Simmons, his fat lips blubbering, hastily made an exit. Mike set off towards the Stillbrook docks, his shorts just about managing to keep his junk in place. It had been a long time since he’d been this angry about something. The word “UltraZen” was enough to drive him into an indignant frenzy. What further enraged him was that he might miss his workout for the day. And for that he was going to make UltraZen pay dearly. Episode 3 For a henchman, Artie Pimms asked way too many questions. UltraZen’s Arkadian Stoat tugged at his electrically air-conditioned black mackintosh and tried to remain calm and sane. In truth, he was failing at keeping Pimms from grating on his nerves. If something interesting didn’t happen in the next 60 seconds, he was going to have to cause a public nuisance, simply to keep from going around the bend. Pimms shifted nervously from one foot to the other, surveying his surroundings with an almost pathological level of suspicion. It was abandoned, here at the docks, the perfect place for UltraZen to spring its trap. “Do you think it was a good idea having Lenny place the card in the kid’s wallet, boss?” It was Pimms’ umpteenth question in several minutes. Stoat wanted to kill the obsequious troll in man’s clothing. How in all the cosmos did these “inbreeds” make it onto the company payroll anyway? The mind just boggled. “For the third time, already, I planned it this way, Pimms. The Hugeman has a short fuse and hates all things UltraZen. How else could I get him to come here? Simmons is about as stealthy as a rhino with whooping cough. He’s almost as bad as you for messing things up. Stillbrook’s arrogant muscle whore will be here, and soon. I guarantee it. Now do me a favor and check your weapon. You may need it. And do it quietly!” Stoat adjusted the settings on the electro-blaster he carried with him, making sure it was set for maximum output. He would only get one shot at this. The only way to stop a man as huge and powerful as Mike Hugeman was with an electro-static force-field that could jolt even the most superhuman nervous system into complete but totally reversible shutdown. Positioned out of sight, keeping to the gloom cast by the shadows of some empty packing crates within the spacious sprawl of the virtually empty Warehouse 108, Mike Hugeman would have to possess x-ray vision to notice his adversaries before they noticed him. Stoat silently prayed to St Norris (the Patron Saint of B-List Bastards) that this wasn’t the case. Within minutes there was a loud, thunderous sound of something heavy hitting the concrete outside. Nearby car alarms sounded as the impact set them off. Young ladies screamed in terror, but then seeing it was the Hugeman, began to get moist for him and wish he wasn’t gay, oh and er... yeah... a couple of dogs barked or something. The Hugeman was really pissed off as he tore through the docklands looking for Unit 108. This was causing him to miss his workout. He got madder and madder, and this seemed to make him get a little bigger, which wasn’t a bad thing, he reckoned. But his shorts were about to disintegrate from the immense pressure his inflating glutes and erecting dick caused by pushing outward in opposite directions. When he found Unit 108, he smashed through the large slide-doors, pulverizing metal and wood and whatever else the fucking things were made of, the force of which made him totally lose his shorts. He didn’t care. Looking down at his massive whale-dick excited and pleased him. But he snorted in a rising rage, thinking that it wouldn’t get to be glorified in the gym today, if the day’s events kept causing him to get sidetracked. “Come out from hiding, you UltraZen bastards,” he boomed, his gargantuan roar powered by an incredible set of lungs. He was getting stronger and stronger. He could feel his body bulging all over. He had to capitalize on this effect, but also clear his head to think clearly. When silence returned to the warehouse’s echoed interior, Hugeman flexed, sweet fuck did he flex, greater than he ever flexed before. He squatted down a little, bending his legs at the knees, so that most of his weight was carried by his shimmering quads. He crabbed down into a most-muscular pose, squeezing his balled fists so tight, he could compress coals into diamonds had he been holding them. This incredible pressure, aided by a snarl that added deep russet tones to his cheeks, sent a shockwave of flexing, bulging superpower throughout his exceptional system. Energy crackled in pulses along his body’s veined super-highway, energizing his circulatory system to hulk up into overdrive. Massive, thick cords pushed out of a 22-inch neck. His body exploded into hyper-muscular relief, with extra inches popping out everywhere, his weight increasing significantly. He couldn’t wait to get this business over with so that he could beat all his lifting records over at Joel’s Gym, with a full retinue of horny, awe-stricken, paying worshippers gathered around him, just the way he liked it. He would have it no other way. He posed and flexed, flexing huger still, and posed until he could think more clearly. He pounded his granite fists together, sending further pulses of shocking power throughout. Growling and snarling – gruffly lauding his bodybuilding superiority with an exceptional nod to superior masculinity – Mike screamed the place down as his glistening, colossal physique bulged more immensely than ever, muscles bulking up so fast, his skin stretched almost to the point of sheer translucence. His definition was mesmerizing. His hulking pecs widened and deepened, and when he bounced them, it took slightly more effort on his part, the mass of the pec-bellies at their greatest so far, so that their momentum seemed more gradual, but no less rhythmic. This pleased him very much, and his hard-on raged with greater impunity. “My God,” Arkadian Stoat gasped from behind the vantage point of crates, then cursing himself for uttering a sound. He wasn’t gay, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate just how much larger Mike Hugeman had become since last their paths crossed. He had failed, before, to secure the genetic samples he craved in order to experiment with Mike’s unique muscle-building properties. UltraZen thrived on defense contracts. Should they patent an elite super-soldier for sale to the highest bidder, they could become a major world power in their own right. Hugeman was the key to mastering this design. And Stoat, as head researcher for UltraZen Industries, was under a lot of pressure to reel in his prize catch. Today he vowed not to fail. Luckily the Hugeman hadn’t heard him make a sound, so caught up was Mike in his flexing and muscle-gaining. With an enormously delta-shaped back bouncing rays of glorious sunlight back through the skylight through which they came, Mike was oblivious to the stealthy, snake-like advances of Stoat, as he carefully eased his way closer to his quarry, the electro-blaster primed and ready to be fired. Stoat would only have one shot at this. He signaled with a nod for Pimms to ready the overhead net conductor. It would fire from a cylinder high above the Hugeman, something that had failed to catch his eye, fortunately for Stoat. So far things were going by the numbers. But still, caution was the only card to play. Mike was overwhelmed by his flexing, and the obsession he had with growing, coupled with the rising strength he felt surging in him. His balls swelled with jizz, and he would have to expend it soon before frustration got the better of him. He began to stroke his huge whale-dick, completely awed that it seemed, now, to be at least an inch and a half longer than it had been earlier, back in the hotel room with Ken Preston. Saint Norris’s Ghost, Stoat mentally gasped, not expecting to get a full sex show from the biggest muscle behemoth the world has ever seen. He was an out and out heterosexual, but if that was the case, why did Stoat feel the front of his trousers getting tight? No, this cannot be. This fucker cannot be turning me gay, he thought, but then lost the run of himself and said the last bit aloud: “I won’t allow it!!!” Hearing this caused the Hugeman to turn around like a whirlwind, just as his cannon dick was about to release its salty torrent. Several life-changing things happened in the space of one and a half seconds. The force of Mike’s massive discharge spewed forth with the pressure of a fire extinguisher, blasting into Stoat across a distance of about twenty feet. Gripped momentarily by his most powerful self-induced orgasm ever, Hugeman was temporarily paralyzed, but that did not matter, for the blast of his jizz knocked Stoat off his feet, sending him sprawling, just as Pimms pressed a button on his remote control, blowing the cylinder above both Hugeman and UltraZen’s head researcher. Stoat fired the ultra-blaster, but something went terribly wrong. Coils of Tesla-like energy arced into the torrent of cum that existed briefly between Hugeman and Stoat, creating a brief circuit through which the gun overloaded. The connection was only a fraction of a second in duration, but the conductor net fell over them both, holding in the charge for a little longer. Dazed and confused, Hugeman rolled around in the net and soon became trapped. Like an idiot, Pimms sprang to help his boss, reaching out to grab his arm where it stuck out from a gap in the net. Stoat writhed in agony as energy danced impishly across his suffering but scrawny frame. As soon as Pimms touched his hand, he absorbed most of the energy, which now siphoned off into him. He was knocked back into the packing crates, smashing through them. He screamed for all of his worth as anomalous energies scorched him... reshaped and rewrote him. Likewise, Stoat was also rewritten to a certain extent. This was a day that would live in infamy, no doubt about it. When the lightning show eventually ended, Mike found the strength to tear himself free of the confining net. He felt weak and he staggered to his feet, his dick now limp and pendulous as it swung from his movements. “Am I... smaller? Oh, please God, please no.” He cleared his head and rubbed his eyes to get them into sharp focus. He looked down at himself... well, his gaze got as far as his pecs and would go no further, for his muscle rack prevented it, it was so bloated and huge. He flexed his forearms and bis, squeezing his balled fists to crank up the flexing to its fullest. He breathed a sigh of relief, for he hadn’t shrunk at all, despite the sapping of his strength. In fact, he thought he might be even bigger. Thinking this quickly energized him and lengthened his dick to a semi-flaccid state. Still a bit groggy from whatever it was his assailant had shot him with, Mike turned to look down at the living mess caught in the net. At first he didn’t recognize the charred, wizened man. Then, as he studied the sooty face a little further: “Arkadian fucking Stoat. I should have known you’d be behind this,” the Hugeman growled. Stoat just moaned something incomprehensible but appealed to the Hugeman to be freed from the net. He poked an even bonier arm through the netting, hoping the giant above him would take pity on an injured scientist. Hugeman scowled and thought about pissing on the little runt. “Puh-please have pity on me, Hugeman. You can see I’m beaten, finished. I know when I’m licked. At least help me to my feet so that I can check on poor Artie. I think he took the worst of it.” Mike thought it over and bounced his pecs so as to clear some space in his head. Maybe UltraZen would leave him alone, now that Stoat had seen the new, bigger, and more powerful Hugeman. They simply couldn’t beat him. Stoat looked old, broken down, emaciated. He was no threat to the Hugeman, Mike decided. And so, he extended a huge hand downwards, offering it reluctantly to Stoat. When Stoat touched Mike’s hand, he felt a rush like no other. Although his body didn’t change shape or size, he leeched off a great-deal of Mike’s incredible power. Mike, towering above the scientist, felt his legs turn to jelly, weakening to the point of being unable to stand under his own power. In contrast, Stoat snapped himself to a standing position in a trice, almost squeezing the life out of the Hugeman. Instincts that were new to the older man coursed through him, now, and with the merest tug of his arm, wrenched the Hugeman into the air, with force enough to expel him upwards, higher, and higher. He crashed out through the roof of the warehouse, soaring ever higher into the summer sky. Stoat watched it happen, marveling at what he had just done. But how could this be? He decided there was time for analysis later. For now, he just enjoyed the worried squeal from Hugeman, gradually fading as distance claimed him. “Sto...aaaaaa...aaaaat!!!!!!!!!!” “No, dear boy, from now on I won’t be going by that name. Oh no...” He looked at his burnt hands and marveled, wonderingly, at the crackling, residual static charge that arced between his clawed fingers, energy that seemed to leech the power out of the most powerful man on the planet. Stoat took a new name and shouted it aloud: “From now on... I will be called... Man Handler!!!!!” To be continued . . .

This was part of a collaborative roleplay I had with Arribous that we never finished. I found the whole thing to be hot and well written and I've always enjoyed Arribous' writing style. Hope everyone likes it. The scenario features a would-be villain attempting to sap away Mr. Incredible's super strength only to find that things go awry. Contains hyper, macro and some sexual scenes. "SO! Mr Incredible, we meet at last!" Bob heard the voice emerging from the darkness of the large, echoing room. His arms and legs were stiff, stuck in place as he felt suspended in air. Dramatically, fluorescent lights flickered on as the interior was lit, showing the warehouse in its entirety with shelves stacked against walls and a man standing before him. The figure wore a black jumpsuit with leather straps wrapped around his body. Bob turned to see what was restraining him as he noticed the two generator-like machines to his sides, buzzing loudly as they work to keep him trapped. Both wrists and ankles had been latched to metal plates with a noticeable blue energy surrounding them. He was left with both arms raised over his head, as if he had been shackled in some kind of dungeon. "What a pleasant surprise it is seeing you here. I didn't think you'd be so foolish to just waltz right through the door but now here you are, hands tied by my magnetized machine. I applaud your efforts." He didn't remember how he'd ended up like this, it was supposed to be an easy job that he could handle on his own. All he remembered was arriving at the warehouse...and then he ended up here. He knew his head was killing him, the middle-aged hero groaning and pinching his eyes closed as the ringing in his ears started to fade. "Ugh..." he groaned, shaking his head. He tugged at his restraints, testing them, finding that since they weren't physical objects he could overpower, he was stuck here. He sighed, hanging his head, an annoyed expression on his face as he looked at this...interesting individual. "Who're you?..." he grunted, not familiar with this person "Why I am Dr. Grow of course and you my friend are the very enticing Mr. Incredible. I've kept my eye on you for some time now." The masked villain said as he gave a slight pinch to his mustache. "Your superior strength is a fetching trait I hold much respect for. I'm almost jealous of it. I AM jealous of it." He turned away, giddy at the reveal of his master plan. "Brains aren't enough for me anymore. What I want is what you have." Bob sighed, furrowing his brow. He didn't have time for this, this was some two-bit hack that the police force shouldn't have any issue with. "You don't think a gym membership would have been easier than capturing me?" he said with a smirk, not particularly concerned. He didn't think this guy had much up his sleeve that could hurt him. "Oh believe me Mr. Incredible. What I have will make gyms obsolete! BEHOLD!" With a dramatic turn, Dr. Grow revealed his weapon. "This my burly friend will be the end of your super days: The Drain Gain!" The small ray gun was sleek and appeared comically canon to weapons of science fiction. "This little tool will suck the brawn right out of your body, harvesting your heroic muscle so 'I' can live in your shoes." The slightly-pudgy superhero was more curious than he was afraid, there was no way that this guy could drain his super-strength, right? Even if he got smaller, he'd still be able to draw upon his massive strength reserves whenever he needed to. He let the wannabe super villain boast about his device, remaining silent and waiting for an opening, his eyes darting around the room behind his mask as he looked for anything that could help him escape. "But why explain it when I can just show you." Giggling maniacally, Dr. Grow had switched the device to the first setting, aiming the Drain Gain at Bob with glee. "Any last words before I make you obsolete?" Bob grimaced, gritting his teeth a bit. "Once I'm out of this thing, you'll regret what you're about to do," he cautioned him, despite knowing it'd fall on deaf ears. "Do your worst." With the pull of a trigger, the weapon blasted a ray of green energy at the helpless hero, encompassing his form in an emerald aura that tingled his skin. Dr. Grow, smiling wide, looked on with excitement, desperate to spot the effects taking place. The process was slow and hard to notice but unbeknownst to Dr. Grow, his choice weapon was having the opposite effect. Even to Bob, he was convinced the alien sensation was taking a toll to his powers yet his figure sluggishly swelled. Bob grit his teeth as the ray hit him, expecting something painful...but he cracked an eye open when he didn't feel a blast of pain, only a strange tingling feeling working its way through his muscles. His suit creaked softly as the mass beneath it began to slowly expand outward, the hero instinctively flexing his muscle as best he could, given his position. The metal clamps around his calves and forearms were starting to feel rather tight. Slowly, Dr. Grow's smile was beginning to sink. At that point, the growth was noticeable to him. Bob's biceps had started to slowly swell closer to his face. His visible lats were wider, thick thighs even thicker, chest size growing, pushing out more. Something was wrong. Releasing his finger from the trigger, the growth had completely halted as the Doctor had disappointment written across his face. "Uhhh...give me a second here." Bob snickered, looking down at himself, his pecs having grown a bit thicker, his biceps tugging against his suit a bit. "Heh. Seems your little toy there might actually be useful. I think it grew me bigger...Maybe you need to turn it up some, maybe it'll work then," he said with a coy grin, hoping that the maddened doctor would go along with it. Maybe he'd get strong enough to break out of here. "Be quiet you! It's just a bug, nothing more..." As he examined the gun, Dr. Grow noted the setting set properly to drain. Perhaps down the line, his configuration functioned in the exact opposite. Switching the setting to gain, his confidence returned once again. "Now Mr. Meathead, watch as your new muscles suddenly vanish!" The beam struck him just the same, and the same effect happened. His muscles slowly swelled, his body getting thicker, wider, heavier...but since the machine was calibrated to only hold someone of his mass and not a larger person, his levitating bindings began to wobble, starting to let him drift down towards the ground. Seeing his opportunity, Bob grinned and began to struggle with the restraints, trying to do whatever he could to get out of the field's effect! "No! Stop!" Dr. Grow's attempts to remove his finger from the trigger hadn't stop the gun. The trigger was stuck in the active setting. No matter how hard he attempted to point his gun elsewhere, the stream was already too familiar with Bob's body. The magnetic machine was starting to groan. The added weight of Bob's mass was overloading it's field of influence. Bob was looking quite beefy now, his frame tumbling forward out of the machine's stasis field, falling to the ground and getting to his feet. Now that he was free, he quickly plied his strength to rip off the shackles around his wrists and ankles, freeing him from the device's grip permanently. But still that beam continued, his shoulders widening, his pecs flaring out in front of him, his glutes more defined and thicker beneath his suit. He grinned cockily, reaching up to flex one of his arms, grunting approvingly. "Whoof. Nice...don't suppose this is permanent, eh?" he chuckles, rubbing his arm. Prying the trigger with both of his fingers, the device finally went off. Now that his focus was on Bob, he stood stunned to see the hulkish hero, seven feet tall, almost seven feet wide. The sudden burst of brawn and beef had left the doctor scared. The moment was so perfect and now his plans had been thwarted on his own accord. And then there was Bob, holding his attention captive. The silk-like red suit stretching enough to show a hint of skin. The "I" insignia adorning his chest was pulling across his hefty breast. Even his black tights had a noticeable heft between his thighs. Dr. Grow was not only afraid, but intrigued. Bob took advantage of his opportunity, lowering his arms and flexing his biceps against his chest with a grunt and a broad grin. "Grrrh! I'd say that's a hell of a little toy you got there, doc! I think it about doubled my mass...look at me, heh," he chortled, relaxing his muscles and idly bouncing his thick pecs, a near-hypnotizing motion for the doctor. "What do you say about pumping me up a little more, eh? Even me out some? You've got scientific curiosity, right?" "Don't think this is over!" Dr. Grow said with a shake in his voice. "Just because you're some Adonis with...flawless arms and chiseled abs...and..." His concentration kept falling victim to the perfect physique he had crafted. "Laugh now, because I'm still going to drain you of all of that." The Doctor was lying of course. Even he knew that his weapon had no effect to suck the powers from his adversary. That still didn't stop him from holding his ray up and pulling the trigger, knowing well of his defeat. He might as well enjoy seeing his victor become even more irresistible. Bob ran his hands down his abs, touching every finely-contoured line, rumbling his approval. "Mmmmm. Even got rid of my pot belly too, heh. It might even help my hairline grow back," he chortled, raising his arms up and flexing, flaring his back out as wide as it could go. It was during this flex that he was struck with the beam again, which made him laugh deeply as he felt his body start to swell outward in every direction, gaining height and muscle and even more mass between his legs, the crotch of his suit stretching and deforming around his swelling manhood! "Rrrrghh, that's it! Keep it comin'!" he barked, his voice growing deeper and louder as he grew. Two feet was added to the glory of Bob's body before Dr. Grow stopped his gun again. The sheer arrogance of his nemesis toyed with his libido, drawing his enthusiasm towards his form. He approached Bob timidly, still pointing his weapon at him. "You like that don't you? You like being my lab rat." The doctor stood a few feet from his manly creation. He could see damp spots below the shoulders and around his chest. The smell of man was unavoidable, even at his distance. That suit; amazing that it still managed to keep itself around the curves of each bulbous muscle. He was even more amazed at how the ray was affecting the hero's member. The outline of his cock and balls had made his junk so apparent in the black speedo. His Drain Gain was never intentionally made to affect such an area but to the amusement of Dr. Grow, he wasn't complaining. Bob's hands reached up to grope and heft his newfound pec-shelf, a manly grunt of approval rising from his throat. "Hrrnnfh...I like getting bigger, and stronger. And you seem excited to give that to me. Maybe...you always wanted me so big and huge and hung, eh?" he chuckled, reaching a hand down to shamelessly grope at his package, the soft cock as thick as his wrist and so long it was forced to curve forward and below his nuts inside the stretchy confines of his suit. Sweat was starting to pool under his suit, soaking into the water-resistant fabric, beads rolling down his face as he panted and groaned under his newfound bulk. Dr. Grow almost pawed at his figure, fixated on giving it a touch. He was still frightened, fearing his worth drain with every blast, yet he still wanted to fire at him. "Tell me big boy, how desperate do you want to grow?" "Hahaha," Bob laughed, turning to the side for a side-chest pose, grunting as he flared his incredible pecs outward, tensing his bicep against them. "You say that like there's any outcome aside from you blasting me again. But I'll humor ya. I wanna GROW. REALLY huge," he grunted, his voice carrying a lot more presence now. "Give it to me." The desire for growth almost worried him more but his attitude suggests he doesn't take the villain serious enough. Nervously, Dr. Grow replied: "First, you kneel." Bob chortled, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Heh, yeah, why not?" he grunted, a little caught up in his growth himself. He dropped down to one knee, still looking down at the shrimpy doctor, though not quite as much as he had been a few moments ago. "I'm waiting," he grunted in mock annoyance, the heat from his body radiating off him like sunbeams. Dr. Grow's heartbeat was racing. He was actually complying to his demands. "Raise up your arm", he asked, hoping the loyalty was still present. It was never really there to begin with, Bob was just playing along so that he could grow bigger. He raised his arm as bidden and flexed, the bicep peaking up enormously, so tall that he could rub his knuckles on the top of it! "Hah, like this?" No reply was made. The glorious mountain of arm was a sight to behold, yet the bothered doctor had his interests below it. He crept closer to his pit, breathing heavy of its aroma. The already sweaty face of Dr. Grow was moistened further by the damp surface of the lat. He only continued to close in further towards his body. If Mr. Incredible can enjoy his newfound size, why couldn't the doctor? Bob grinned wolfishly as he realized what the doctor was getting so worked up about, the scent radiating from his pits, cascading down the inside of his suit, his man-stink leaking out despite the tight elastic contours of his suit. "Heh, you like my smell, doc? Y'know, it'd probably be a lot stronger if I grew big enough to rip out of this thing. But it can take a lot of stretching, so I'd have to get pretty damn big." "And big you will be, once I'm done with you..." The doctor leaned into Bob's side, face pressing against the cavernous contours of his pit. His tongue rolled against the fabric, the musk unbelievable to his senses. One hand caressed the side of Bob's chest, grazing against the protruding nipple under his suit while his other hand felt the lumpy surface of his flaring back. Above him was the mass of Bob's arm, still dripping on top of the wimpy doctor. "Grrhh...yeah, get a taste of a real man," he grunted, tensing his fist and flexing his bicep and lat and pec as strong as he could, the exertion causing the sweat spot to spread further, his musk invading the doctor's nostrils even more fully, he felt Bob's incredible, spicy male-scent reach into his lungs and brain! "Mmmnf, lick my pits more, taste my manhood little guy!" Dr. Grow obliged, lathering every inch of Bob's pit with his mouth. While he tasted the super beast, his arm reached for his ray gun again, unleashing another wave of growth while he savored the salty taste of man. Bob closed his eyes and groaned low in his throat as his nine-foot frame began to swell and bloat upward and outward once again, his muscle creaking beneath his suit as it grew bigger, thicker, stronger. He didn't even know how this might interact with his powers, but he had no doubt it'd make him exponentially stronger! His free hand reached up to heft his pecs, fingering the meaty nipple beneath the suit with a groan, sliding his palm down his bulging 8-pack of abs, feeling the Adonis belt he'd grown under his fingers...he was getting so BIG now, he had to be more than twelve feet tall, looking like he weighed two tons of musclebound brawn! The suit was still holding, but who knows how long that'd keep up. Stopping his ray gun again, Dr. Grow dismounted from Bob's soaking pit, stepping away as to fit every inch of sweat soaked muscle into view. Mr. Incredible was a titan. It was amazing how much room had vanished from his presence. Seeing his deep red suit turn pinkish, stretching from how much muscle it had retained inside only made the doctor tingle. All plans of sapping the hero's muscle were burned away by the villain's libido; the results were just too good. There was still so much room in the warehouse for him to continue and he saw no reason to stop soon. Still, he enjoyed toying with Bob. Any power he had over him was dictated by him giving Bob power. He was all too excited to continue his game. The hulking blonde superhero grunted, flexing his biceps against his chest, leaning his head back against his swollen traps, a broad and eager smile on his face. "Mnnnf. How do I look, Doc?" he snickered, raising both of his monster biceps and flexing them with a growl, the twin peaks of muscle forcing his forearms to bend outward. "Look at me...look how WIDE I am, haha! I feel stronger than ever!" Indeed, Mr. Incredible's physique was pushing to freakish levels. The enticing flexes and soaked suit only played with the Doctor's composure. "Yes, you've certainly grown quite a bit, but you're still too weak, wouldn't you agree?" his eyes fixated on the knee hanging clad member. Bob nodded eagerly, smiling brightly and relaxing from his flex, looking down at the doctor and looming over him, now more than double his height and hungry for more. "Oh yeah. I could stand to be a LOT bigger. I dunno what kinda freaky beast I'm gonna grow into...but I can't wait to get there and find out!" "Then you'll be a good little hero and let me... inspect your changes." The doctor's voice was breathy and dry. He crept closer to the heaving mound of cock, wrapped snugly into the distended leathery tights of Bob's suit. The member had grown to half the doctor's size with the leg holes extending on the sides to show the pink skin wrapped away by his red suit. The pouch was incredibly moist and musky and the smell only intensified the closer he came to it. From his perspective, he could see Bob's face slowly falling into obscurity behind his pumped up pecs. Both of his hands caressed the bulge, tiny in comparison to its magnificence. The balding demigod moaned happily as he felt those tiny hands on his massive dick, grinning from ear to ear and reaching forward with one of his huge hands, gripping the doctor's back and shoving him closer, pushing his face into the incredible bulge between his legs, smearing his face with the sweat pooling beneath his suit. "Yeahhh, how's that feel, little guy? How's my muscle-sweat smell?" he grunted, getting into his status as a growing beastman. It was impressive and divine in its shape. Dr. Grow could only imagine it unsheathed from its restraints but settled to see the outfit pushed to its limits. His hands attempted to lift the meat from its underside but his strength could not compare to its weight. Eagerly, Dr. Grow hoisted himself on top, feebly trying to climb on top of the manhood, pushing his weight against the thick bulge. He could feel his feet shifting as they slid the skin underneath the fabric. The hero's bulge was so big that it was enough of a platform for the smaller man to stand on top of as he balanced against the hulk's body. Bob chortled at how into this the doctor was getting, reaching down with his monster arms and pulling the little fella in to his abs, burying his face in the stretched-out bit of the suit that crossed the divide between his pecs. The doctor was in complete rapture. Half of his very being was scorched in the heaty embrace of his captive. His face could very well sink in between the crevice of the behemoth's chest. He craned his head upwards to catch a glimpse of the ripened man, lost in the handsome smug smile he had with masked eyes half way closed. It was hard to focus on such an amazing jaw line when the hero's breast continued to obscure it from sight. Dr. Grow widened his embrace until his hands glided far enough to caress the beefy nipples wrapped in red. It took the entire span of his arms to finally reach such a prize but that only excited him to realize just how immense the man had become. Bob groaned and instinctively bucked his hips gently at the touch of his fat, swollen nipples. His eyes pinched closed and he moaned softly, his smug grin getting even wider. "Nggghhfff...yeah...squeeze those super-nips, doc. See if you can even dent 'em!" he chortled, flexing his pecs against the doctor's frame. Just as Bob claimed, they were as tough and thick as the rest of him, it was like trying to squeeze a fleshy can of soda that was filled with lead! Much to Bob's ego, the grip of the doctor proved just how weak he really was, showcasing the comparison of just how mighty he's become. One flex of Incredible's chest swallowed up half of Dr. Grow's face, snaring him in walls of clothed, sweaty flesh that dumped the intoxicating alpha stench into the doctor's olfactory senses. Truly he has created something divine and despite Bob being so easily capable of snuffing the villain out, the doctor was rewarded instead with peak masculinity. The hulking hero groaned with bliss as he felt his chest muscles so easily engulf the normal-sized man, a hungry grin crossing his face as he pondered what to do next. His fingers were too thick to use that device that the doctor had, so he needed the little guy to cooperate with him. His man-stink seemed to be intoxicating to the little man...he wanted to grow more, so he needed the doctor to slip further and further into unthinking bliss. To that end he relaxed his chest and hoisted the doctor upward, leaning forward to press his lips to the much smaller man's own, growling as his tongue hungrily invaded the little man's mouth, stamping his masculinity and superiority into his face forever. So much force had entered into Grow's mouth. His hero was eager for more and communicated his hunger in a way that awarded the doctor further. With his face meeting with Mr. Incredible's, Dr. Grow had to lay belly-first across Bob's vast chest just to be drunk from. His noodly arms wrapped around the bullish neck, thrilled to be experiencing such a lust not only from himself but from his experiment, his guinea pig. He could make him as big as he wanted to and still he would beg for more. Happily, the doctor aimed his gun behind the giant's head and dosed him yet again as they continued to kiss. He felt the fabric beneath him stretching and creaking as it turned a lighter shade, the suit growing tighter and tighter across the hulking giant's frame. But if it bothered him in any way, he didn't show it, groaning in bliss as he began to expand outward once more. His voice grew deeper, his bones creaked as he grew taller, and the tongue filling the doctor's mouth expanded slightly. His head was growing but nowhere near the pace the rest of him was, his proportions were becoming freakier and freakier with each subsequent dose! Another ton and a half of muscle was added to his godlike body, swelling up past 14 feet in height. His man-stink rose into the air like heatwaves off of asphalt, filling the doctor's lungs with every breath he took. Dr. Grow had to part mouths, coughing as the intensity of Bob's hot breath was almost too much. As the ray stopped, he noticed just how much his position had been rearranged, his flat body balancing 90 degrees against hulking pecs instead of the previous slope. Knowing this, the doctor was all too eager to see what had become of Mr. Incredible. The middle-aged, balding hero chortled deeply when he looked down at the little man laying on his chest, reaching up to grab his lab coat with two fingers and hoist him up, leaning forward and placing him on the ground at his feet, allowing him to look up in wonder at the demigod he'd created. He couldn't see anything below Bob's eyes thanks to the huge shelf of his pecs, and the superhero was all too eager to make his head vanish completely with a simple flex of his titanic pecs, his body so wide that there was no way Grow could reach both of his nipples at once now. "Hahaha...Whaddya think, doc? Am I big enough yet?" he gloated, raising his arms to flex his biceps, the deep armpits soaked with sweat. "Nnghhh...pits feel all bunched up...must be a lot more hair in there than there used to be..." The doctor was dumbfounded. the sheer width of the titan was inhuman to say the least and the suit he wore, still clinging for dear life, hid almost nothing. Every freckle and hair follicle could be seen with only a hint of red shrouding it faintly. Dr. Grow had to keep stepping back just to keep the godly man in full view. "Amazing. You must show me more." Bob grunted, lowering his arms and pawing at his crotch, which had also grown disproportionately huge compared to his height. The gigantic shank of flesh in his suit had to be at least five feet long, and looked to be completely soft as well, his balls each the size of his bicep! "More..." he groaned, his eyes half-lidded, flexing his bicep against his pecs to rub and squeeze his nipples, his suit growing more and more soaked with his scent. "Believe me. I want more too, but I want to experience you my way. I've only seen you from the front but what are you hiding from the behind?" "Hehehe...there's more than you can see, doc. Check this out." His body sloooowly turned in place, each footfall shaking the warehouse around the two of them, making the ground beneath Grow's feet shake and rumble. He gradually turned his monolithic backside to the curious doctor, raising his arms and making his lats flare out as wide as they could go. "HRRRNNGHHH...YEAH...Check out this power, doc!" he roared, his back surging to more than ten feet in width! "My my, how much you've grown. I guess every part of you is perfect... well almost." Dr. Grow drank in the view, his eyes treated to a helping of Bob's beef. With his massive legs spread wide, the doctor couldn't help but keep his focus on Bob's low swinging balls, dangerously close to riding against the floor. Even more impressively was the ass. Luscious and fat yet still powerful and rippling, the two glutes were in a constant state of squeezing the life out of the black spandex that were strung between the boulders, each one having grown higher over the waist that even Mr. Incredible's lower lumbar was nearly unviewable by the enclosure of lats and cheeks. "Oh my..." Bob snickered, wiggling his ass in the air for the doctor's enjoyment, flexing the two gigantic, mountainous glutes together. "Grrhhhh. I could crush coal into diamond between these, haha! Anything you want flattened?" he asked with a cocky tone, squatting down to let his titanic nuts rest on the ground. "Nghhff...feel so heavy hanging from my crotch like that..." "Your ass is something to behold my guinea pig." Dr. Grow started to walk back towards Bob, as to gain a better view of his rump. The heat intensified with each of his steps. No doubt the entire warehouse was a sauna of stench, windows clearly retaining droplets of moisture in the air. "In fact, there's one last thing you can do for me and after this, I'll give you the fix you so deservingly need." Bob chortled, lowering his arms and attempting to look over his shoulder at the doctor, but his traps were too damn huge to make it possible! "Heh. I dunno if you can give me what I need at this point, doc. But I'll humor ya. What's that little thing ya need?" "Lay yourself down so I can experience that luscious rump of yours. After that, I'll make sure that damn suit comes off of you, and then some." The hero grunted, squatting down further, letting his knees impact the ground with a massive earth-shaking FOOM that rattled some of the sweat off the windows. His suit was fitting him like a second skin at this point, nearly transparent from being stretched so much, his body coated in sweat and man-fur that he hadn't had before. He laid down on his front, laughing as his pecs propped him up so much that he was forced to rotate his torso to the side, hiking his ass into the air to let the doctor explore it. "Heh. Try not to get lost in there, little man." So much mass had shifted with such a change in posture. With Bob having no space below him, his titanic nuts pressed out between his legs, right before reaching the prized booty. The doctor could see it now. The older man's crack had been loaded with blonde salt and pepperish hairs, barely concealed from the red suit. It was almost time to be rid of that obstruction but first, Grow climbed on top of Bob's ballls and graciously mashed his hands against the hulking glutes. He could feel the hair trapped beneath the suit crackling and grinding up against itself as he manhandled Bob's glutes, the man-stink just as strong here as it was everywhere else, a mohawk of fur ready to burst out from between his glutes the moment the suit was torn from his body. The hero flexed one glute, then the other, like a wave filled with steel. "Hahaha, you know, guys my age usually get a prostate exam, you up for the task, doc?" he teased, reaching back to grip his glutes tightly, pulling them apart as much as he could, exposing more hair and even more man-smell. "I'll give you something better." With a new air of dominance, Grow lowered his head into the enclosure, hoping almost to please Mr. Incredible as much as he was pleasing himself. He felt in control yet a part of him still enjoyed the idea of being Bob's bitch in the end. Deeper he went. Grow was slack jawed and ready to feast from his god. His tongue readily lapped against Bob's pulse. Even through the suit he could taste Bob's incredible manly essence, coating his tongue like an oil and overwhelming his senses, making him feel warm and hard as a rock atop the weathered hero. "Grrhh...that you eatin' my ass, doc? Hard to tell with how tiny and weak you are," he grunted matter-of-factly. Bob's words fell on deaf ears. Grow can tell he was speaking with command as his powerful words almost vibrated across his body. Nevertheless, the doctor kept swiping his tongue, drinking in the moment he would never experience again. With a grunt, Bob let go of his ass cheeks, letting them gently enfold the doctor between them, feeling his mass and power and warmth and sweat and stench surround him, temporarily trapping him in this musky jungle of flesh and fuzz, surrounded on all sides by glute muscle! What Bob hadn't expected was that familiar rush of growing energy coming from his ass of all places. As euphoric as having every inch of his body caressed by man-flesh, the doctor grew Bob further, letting the walls part away as to let him breath for air. Slipping out, the doctor fell out past the testicles and onto the floor, gasping and smiling as his arm was still extended, dosing Mr. Incredible more, sealing their deal. The hulking superhero groaned with delight as he felt his body swelling upward and outward, he was growing wider faster than he was growing taller! But he didn't mind, his rock-hard member throbbing as it reached up to his chin, the middle-aged hulk laughing as he raised his arms and tore the roof of the warehouse in half with a single motion, bending the metallic roof like it was made of aluminum foil. He took a big breath of the fresh air outside, now more than 50 feet tall, laughing with a steadily-deepening voice. "Haha! Yeah, that feels AWESOME, doc! Keep going! I'm gettin' so damn BIG and it feels better the bigger I get!" It was finally happening. The paper thin fabric that squeezed against the ever expanding musculature of the hunky hero was finally tearing. Rip by rip, the red uniform was giving up its endeavor to keep Bob remotely covered. The first to go were the black tights, their defeat obvious by the god cock that Bob had, nearing a size to his own body. Dr. Grow could only gawk at how much mass the titan was gaining, though the ray gun was proving to be less potent as Bob's dense muscles needed more and more energy to grow on. His sudden burst of size slowed down a bit as the tiny man below held his arm out to keep it going. He giggled to himself, smiling and licking the salty sweat that poured down on him as he was under his creation. "You hot monster..." left his lips whisperly, but unbeknownst to the villain, Mr. Incredible just so happened to hear him. All of the superhero's senses and powers were seemingly amplified by the ray's energy, not just his size and strength! He laughed as he turned to face the doctor, casting a shadow over him thanks to his massive pecs, his gigantic nipples pointed straight down due to the heft of his chest, leaking big drops of sweat as the hot sun warmed him up even further, the thick tangles of chest and armpit fur giving up big splatters of his sweat. "Grrr, that's right, doc! A hot monster that you created! I feel UNSTOPPABLE now!!" he roared, flexing a massive bicep, making the rest of his suit tear off, the peak of his muscle so tall he could press his palm flat against it! Dr. Grow stood up in shock, amazed to see the giant so high up hear him so vividly. As his finger left the trigger, stopping the growth temporarily, a large thin shedding of super suit had landed on the doctor's head, the smell so intoxicating and addictive, he was almost hesitant on even taking it off. His super beast was fully nude, drenched and clearly horny now, his mammoth chest inhaling and exhaling as though he had just finished a brutal work out. Citizens outside could be heard panicking at the sudden emergence of a 100 ton man attempting to look down at his tiny acolyte. Out of all the chaos ensuing, Grow could only say one thing: "Wait...you can hear me?" "Yeah!" Bob said with a grin. "Why, should I not be able to? I can hear all kinds of stuff, doc. Every part of me feels stronger. "Why'd you stop with the gun? Don't you want me even BIGGER, a more POWERFUL monster-freak for you?" he asked with a cocky expression, bouncing his massive pecs, sandwiching his freakish cock between them and starting to pec-fuck himself. Supposedly the ray gun had given the monstrous man some newfound power, another unforeseeable mistake thanks to Dr. Grow's incompetence at villainy. "Well... you'd want that wouldn't you?", he said, choking on his own words, although deep down he too wanted his experiment to take on magnitudes of size. "Besides, why the hurry? Why not show me just how much you love your new size. The city has so much to offer."