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HEY FOLKS! I am DELIGHTED to share with you, not a work of my own creation, no, but instead one from an incredible friend who doesn't crave the limelight. Still..this is AMAZING. The only way I can describe it is, it FEELS like the stories I found when I was first sneaking on the muscle growth forums as a not quite old enough teen beast it makes my heart race the same way and I LOVE every SECOND OF IT! It's a nostalgic throwback full of incredible growth descriptions and AMAZING characters. ENJOY! Three years of trial and error, of hardship and ridicule from other co-workers. More than seven years dedicated to study and reinvention of biological chemistry. When bosses give him project after project, he works on a side one. Something just for him, something to keep him sane, despite the workplace and workload. He can’t really talk to his co-workers about it, so he tends to talk more by himself. They murmur behind his back, call him mad, “not right in the head”. The higher ups move him down, floors away from the others. Away from the light and the sun. Into a hole in the ground, deep in the basement; a sub basement. Thrown into a room with vats of storage tanks of chemicals. Huge tanks of liquid nitrogen to cool down samples, it keeps them safe for use and inspection. Old heat tanks moderate oil for the winter, many pipes run off to the different boilers in the room. The pipes knock, bang, clank as they violently change temperatures. They whistle different noises. Dim lit old fluorescent lights, that haven’t been changed out in years, still hang on for some unknown reason. They flicker and blink. That is, if he can see them though all the pipes that run around the ceiling twelve feet up. Don't forget the dull hum of traffic about 26 feet above him that travels down the pillars scattered throughout the room. The door opens, a wave of pungent chemicals assault his senses. If he weren't used to them, he might have turned around and headed right back out the door. The temperature is moderate, except for the cloud of haze, which hangs in the air. That dense, cold vapor makes it hard to see things clear. He makes his way further to the back of the room. He notices failed or broken experiments littered on the ground, and rusted old tables from years past deposited down here, forgotten about. Hazmat suits, gloves, and lab coats lay coated, crusted, and burned with chemicals haphazardly strewn on back of old chairs, or on the edges of their old tables. There, in the corner, is his work. His own special project. He’s halted any assigned tasks, not like his bosses ever check in on him anyways. This was all that mattered right now. A caffeine additive for a workout supplement. Distillation beakers slowly drip a heavy, viscous, yellow chemical liquid. Stupid company, they couldn’t see the value of the supplement, they couldn’t see it as the gold mine it was! Instead they put him on a dead-end task to combat some super-flu. Their pipe dream project was all they seemed to care about, all they’d approve funding for! He could be, should be, spending more time on his money-making caffeine additive. So he could quit this lackluster, crap factory job. So he can earn the respect he deserves. Months of test samples from patients around the world. Test this sample, test that sample. More, and more still, are carried in larger quantities during endless hours of the day. This is a more recent sample from a middle age Russian lifter, that undergoes hormone treatments for depression. He neglects to tell his doctors that he was also experiments with Human Growth Hormone, and testosterone boosters. The scientist’s company takes interest in the lifter, because as to record, he has become the largest specimen in the world due to the super-flu. The largest specimens are quarantined to a remote island in the southern pacific. They prevent boats and vessels from reaching inland due to the jagged, dangerous cliffs and rocks. “How is my little baby doing today?” The scientist murmurs to no one as he observes the distillation process. “At this rate it'll take another week of processing. Yes, yes!” As he rants on to himself. “But then we can leave this horrible forsaken job and move, move far, far away from these horrible little people.” *Knock-knock-knock,* echoes around the large room. “My door, someone is at my door,” he spits to himself in disgust. He slams the sample beaker down, it skitters and rolls across the table. It bumps the other caffeine beaker out of the way. A yellow drip falls into it. The knock returns, more rapid this time. “YES! FOOL, DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE INTERRUPTING!” he bellows, then throws the door open. He stands on the other side, he leans on a mop. It’s the janitor, dressed in a brown twill coveralls. His frame is large and heavy from years of lifting. The coveralls zipped half way up, unable to close all the way due to a heavily sculpted and overhanging upper body. A dungy grey undershirt covers what it can, it stretches thin over his heaving pecs. Titanic hands are covered in veins and hair, dense callouses from lifting his entire life. He inhales, his pecs push up into a properly kept beard, thick. It’s salt and peppered to match his head hair. Gray hair sprinkles with white and black hairs. Hair thins going up, fades completely at the top. A matching gray till military flat top cap lays on top of his pumped head. Glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. He peers over the tops of the thin rectangular metal frames. He chews bubblegum, a thick chin and jaw undulates under strong face muscles somewhere beneath that big beard. “What?! What, what what what… wwwhhhhaaaaatt!” spittle foams in the corners of the scientist’s mouth. “I need to snag some tools that I left down here from servicing the boilers earlier,” states the muscular janitor. They stare at each other without an answer. The silence is uncomfortable. Janitor chews his gum loud, he pops some bubbles, twirls the mop handle, waits for an answer. He watches the scientist sour into irritation. “Who is this guy? Doesn't he know who I am! Doesn't he know what I’m trying to accomplish? The audacity of this, this, this…” he mumbles aloud. “Janitor Bruce,” the older gentleman blurts out. Not as an answer, more of an interruption of the rambling thought process, as Bruce barges through the door. He heads towards the back of the room where he’d left his tools.The crazed scientist runs after the janitor, to catch up with the janitor's long strides from his massive, long legs. Colossal feet shoved into some galoshes. They scuff against the floor, footfalls audible. The scientist still mumbles, and follows the janitor around like a security guard that tails a troubled patron in a sensitive high-end electronic store. His grumbles are low enough this time that the janitor can hear his chatter, but can’t tell what he is saying over the noise of the his massive self, and subsequent movement of himself. “Can't let him see, can't let him touch. Too early, too soon. But need subject to test, yes. Yes! A subject, can skip rat test. Nasty, bitey, small, troublesome things.” the scientist deduces. He fumbles his hands, runs over them in manic thought. Then the janitor stops and turns a bit, then lumbers to the nearest boiler next to the beaker table. The scientist shuffles past while the janitor squats next to the hot boiler. He collects his tools that have been strewn about by the scientist. Small scamper sounds probably indicates some big rats, or feral cats that run around down there. The scientist walks up to his liquid experiment. He grabs a canister of distilled water. He snags the beaker that collects another drop of caffeine derivative and pours in the water. He whirls it with a glass stirring rod. He scurries back over to the janitor, and holds out the beaker. “Water!” he squeaks flatly. “Hot, hot, hot down here. There, around here, heaters, boilers, bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. Have to drink. Drink! Hot! Must, muuuusssttt drink.” His nervous twitches are prominent now, as if to conceal something, as if he were inspected by someone. The janitor bends down, crouched. His bags are almost packed, the janitor grabs the beaker, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” He ignores the scientist, and downs the liquid. “BLECK! What in the hell was that shit?! Bitter lemon something… Ugh that was awful!” The janitor grimaces in disgust. “Drink, drink, energy drink. Citrus derivative. Must need more glucose, fructose, sugar, sugar. Bad, bad bitter, too bitter. Bad for business.” The scientist grumbles. He smacks himself in the head and table. He bangs on the table, until he hears a crash on the ground. The scientist scuttles around to the other side of the table to view what fell. “No, no, bad, bad. Bad taste, bad business. Such a mess. Mess made on the floor, mess made. NO! WHAT?!” He suddenly realizes the mistake, eyes widen to shock. Suddenly the scientist screams in terror, “OUT! YOU! YOU MUST GET OUT! OUT NOW!!” The janitor stands up. He’s collected all his tools now in his large canvas bag. “Yeah, yeah just let me get my bag and I’ll be out of your hair. You should treat your elders a bit better…” The janitor states cooly. He bends back over to pickup the bag… There’s a loud RRIIIIPP. The janitor wasn't shocked or startled, unlike the scientist. He jumps at the noise, and scuttles behind one of the closest pillars. “Well there goes another set of coveralls, here I thought I was cutting down. Guess it’s bulking season, huh youngin’? Phew, it's getting a little warm in here. I think I should service a few of these boilers, check if they run properly. You know, with all those world issues, with that growth flu… I've been working on this old body for years! Lifting, working out, keeping in shape. It's getting harder as the years go by. Then these lucky so-and-sos just get this immense size! What this ol’ grandpa wouldn’t give for some of THAT!” Bruce turns, and looks for the scientist. He gives his arm a flex, observes the sleeve fill up bigger than even he was used to. “Maybe I did more work than I thought today. Gramps got a really nice pump going, come ‘ere and, and… Where you go, little guy?” He searches ‘till he spots the scientist. He hides behind some junk. “Come on out little guy, gramps won’t hurt you. Much.” He smirks with a double bicep flex. With a double rip noise, janitor gramps gawks with mouth agape, as he stares at his busted cloth. It hangs in shreds from his arms. “Something isn’t right here. You. What was in that drink you gave me.” He beelines right for the scientist cowering behind the pillar. Footfalls are much heavier than before. Outlines of his feet and toes showing in the rubber as they've grown inside. The tips look striated. His legs kick the junk loitered around, meaty hand grabs a table and pushes it across the room as he heads right to him. The scientist ducks behind the pillar, as grandpa reaches around it like a hug. His arms having lengthened, grabs the scientist. Bruce hoists him up by the coat. “Tell me what you’ve done to me! NOW!” Grandpa Bruce demands through gritted teeth. The meek scientist squeaks and stammers. He can’t form words. He struggles, and grips the hairy, thick, muscled wrist of the growing elder before him. The older gentleman smirks as he watches the lab rat struggle. Not because of the growth or power that's happening to him, but because of the tent popped in the scientist's trousers. He pulls him in closer, face to face. The scientist closes his eyes tight and flinches. He hides his head as best as possible, and grips the janitors wrist even tighter. He expects a beating, or worse. The scientist is shaken to his core. He doesn't realize the janitor has put him down until the elder speaks, “It’s alright son, this grandpa won't harm a hair on your head. Open your eyes, and gander at what you helped create! I know you like what you see.” Bruce smiles. Warmth radiates from his muscles. “I’m REALLY enjoying it too! I think whatever you've done has made me a bit bigger in that manly area too. This suit is getting really snug down south. I think I've grown some. Look at these legs. Look! They are getting big!” He flexes his legs. The scientist can see the fabric stretch thin. Each muscle group bunches up. Thick and fibrous like a sculpted bodybuilder. More solid than the proudest strongmen. The scientist finally opens his eyes. The first thing that smacks his sight is a thick, bulbous, bulging, growing groin of the elder gramps in front of him. His eyes widen, they full on stare right at the throbbing erection. It forces itself out of the zipper teeth. It snakes around his waist. Two lemon sized balls fall down each pant leg, fill up, and pound larger with each heartbeat. They all push forward by his muscled thighs. The growing elder rumbles, “Go ahead and get your little hands full of this elder muscle man.” As he pulls both breast coveralls apart the zipper breaks apart showing off his chest and muscled gut. His bloated jock spills out. Yes, the drapes match the carpet, which seems thicken with a bushy treasure trail. The thick unkempt hair runs up and gets hidden beneath the undershirt, which has now ridden up to show off his fuzzy, tight navel. The scientist reluctantly reaches out a trembling hand to the jock and touches the sausage. It throbs and grows. It pushes out slow, like a water balloon that fills up steady. From its central area it billows out like a rippled pleasure wave as it fills the janitor, he surges in size. “Oh yes, yes! That’s it. Use those little digits of yours to explore your growing gramps. Dig in deeper, reach under that package and grab those balls. Give them a tug. My god this feels incredible! I feel so strong, so energetic. I feel like my heart is racing, like it's going to thump out of my chest.” As he grabs the scientists smaller hands and brings them up to his chest, right above his heart. The scientist squeaks again as his torso presses against the hard and striated chest. For an older man's chest, it doesn't feel aged or flabby. There below his hands, thumps his powerhouse of a heart. It pushes growth hormone and testosterone laden virus into his veins.Tissues overflow with power and strength, he de-ages, becomes virile again. The chest heaves under his touch as the scientist feels the fabric stretch over the expanding muscles. The neck of the undershirt sags larger, the bottom hem rises. It flashes an inflating, cobbled muscled stomach. It’s now at the scientists eye level. The scientist’s arms stretch high, his hands slip down over the janitor’s chest as it rises taller. He pushes himself into the janitor’s own stomach, the pouch of the growing grandpa giant spills out with the jock holds. It provides no support. Creaks, stretching rubber noises rend the air with an explosion. The galoshes that were on gramps feet blow out like an exploding tire. It scares the scientist, who hightails behind a pillar with a stung leg from rubble cracking onto it. Big gramps also jumps from the noise. Startled, he bumps into the steam pipes above. He breaks and bends them some. He dips back down. This causes hot steam to billow into the room at uncontrolled rates. The elder crashes to the ground. Pipes, scraps of junk, and the metal tables go flying. He splays out like a marionette puppet with its strings cut. He bursts in snorting, booming, chuckle. Spooked from the surprise yes, but he wasn't hurt or cut at all. On the contrary, Bruce is perfectly unharmed. “Look at this. LOOK AT THIS! All this, hard, hairy, strong muscle!” He rubs his hands over his chest and abs. He grabs his thickening nipples and gives them both a twist. A deafening growl emanates deep within his large chest. Another snap. A long wet slap echoes, the few strings which hold the jock together breaks. His thick cock slaps up between his pecs. They lodge in its deep crevice. Wiring hairs curl over the depth of the cock pillar. A large stream of pre flies in an arc over his shoulder. His soccer ball sized testicles spill out onto the cold concrete floor. “Ugh fuck, fuck, I’m so god damn horny. Even my cock and balls are growing! Mmm, m-more bigger.” His hands move down to stroke his shaft and grab at his balls. His strokes cause more grunts and groans. They deepen as his whole body slowly expands. The temperature in the room grows hotter. Steam fills the room with thick heavy air. Droplets of water drip from the broken pipes above the giant man, drip on his hairy frame. Between the water and sweat drops, his body shines in the low light. The scientist finally peeks out from behind the pillar to see the grown janitor surge in small spurts. He watches gramps flex, as Bruce rubs his own hairy body. He writhes in pleasure, breathes deeply with growl, and talks about how it all feels. Thick gray woolen socks stretch, he watches the gramps frame enlarge. Toes flex on each stroke of his cock. His heel widens and frays the back, toes bunch up then stretch and rip though the top. He makes his way back over to the elder and even while he sits on the cold ground. Their eyes are level. “Why don't you help out your gramps and get to worship this body, boy. Start with those growing feet that scared you away! You always stare at the ground, so I know you like em!” The elder says with a lustful command. “RUB!” He growls. The scientist jumps right into it and bends down, hugs and rubs the big, swelling feet. They stretch to the length of the scientist’s thigh, toes that are as big around as his thumb curl and spread. The foot continues to grow, inch bigger and bigger! The last remnants of the sock jerk off, Bruce exposes his bare feet to the air. The scientist gets up and straddles the shin, sits on it. He watches the veins grow, travel over the foot. Patches of hair thicken on the tops of the feet and toes. The steam in the air becomes opaque, as it sizzles even hotter in the room. The boilers kick into high gear. They try to supply more heat to the build, with nothing in return. “Suck on those toes, I can feel your throbs on me. You just started. Maybe you can get that little toe in your mouth.” The pumped elder says with his eyes closed in self worship. Just as the scientist sucks on the toe a staggered groan comes from the elder. The leg the scientist sits on shakes as it swells in a small burst of growth. It bucks the scientist back, he lands against the groin. He watches as both legs stretch and swell. Feet expand, legs lengthen, muscles bunch and grow; you can hear the fibers and bones stretch and grow. The fabric on his legs blow apart like a balloon pop, shred like cheese. Thighs widen and trap the scientist between them. Junk gets kicked away from the feet that send them hurdle across the room in wrecked heaps. Spurts of pre land on the scientist in ropes, as the chest rumbles behind him. The scientist can't handle it, he covers his hands over his cock and cums in his pants. The expanding god surrounds him. Legs three times as long as his body have grown out from the giant. The grandpa’s thigh is now longer than the scientist. “Uh, h-Here we gggGGOOOO AGAIN!” The janitor growls. With a body flex the coveralls tear asunder. He reaches up to the last remaining piece cloth. The grey undershirt miraculously still holds together. Gramps grabs at the neck. He rips the shirt off his torso with a, “GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOWWWLLL!” His cock fires, stream after stream of pre volleys on to the hot floor. Each time it lands farther and farther away, thicker and more voluminous spurts each time. Tatters of cloth fall down on the scientist, as pre streams down to soak him. The janitors balls lurch and push the scientist away as they take up more space. Coco nuts, bowling balls, watermelons, beach balls shove into the scientist. He watches hair prickle and grow from them. After all, godly grandpas must exhume power and manliness. That doesn't happen with smooth balls! Too enraptured by the growth, the scientist doesn't notice himself pinned to gramp’s inner thigh, squashed under those wiry wrecking balls. He looks back to the scene before him, the biggest cock he's ever seen throbs inches away from his face. He looms in its shadow, as it stretches so high. Thicker than gramp’s waist, he watches as the head flexes and gobs spurt across the room into furniture. Musky smells of sex waft all around him now, they grow stronger, opaque. The janitors arms stretch up, too short to reach the tip. Hands even for him, too small to reach around… For now. Drool drips from the janitors mouth as he strokes his cock, it elicits a growl on each stroke. “Rub grandpas balls little man. He’s got a load brewed to show the world! While you can still reach ‘em.” The behemoth lustfully insists. Grandpa’s pace quickens with furiously long strokes. Each breath his chest rises and doesn’t fall back down. His torso thickens, widens, grows up. Muscle piles on top of muscle as the grandpa’s head pushes higher. Neck muscles thicken and you watch his Adam’s apple bounce with each gulp of air. The chin squares and deepens. It becomes more masculine, thick stubble spreads over, down his cheeks and neck. His cheek bones sharpen and become pronounced features. The nose bridge thickens. The tip becomes a bulbous sphere without loss to any angular sharpness. His engorged, creased head grows along with the deep and powerful voice of the elder. Shoulders push up against the ceiling as the overhead pipes rip out of their wields and anchors, from each of the boilers now. “I’m sitting and I’ve reached the ceiling, AGAIN! So big, but I want so much more! Bigger, yes… BIGGER,” Bruce’s lips drool with lust. Each one commercial boilers kick into higher gears to supply heat to the build. The air is thick and heavy on the lungs, from the amount of hot steam. Glowing flames pierce through the steam from the grates of the boilers. They cause yellow, orange, and auburn lights to dance on the giant’s frame. Titanic shadows adorn the walls of the room show the cacophonous lust of the giant, of the man, of the god. His arms grow to match his torso. Biceps that would dwarf a VW beetle. He throttles his biceps again. His arms grow so much taller, his head in pushes into the pecs. Meaty lips swim with beard and chest hair as he licks the droplets of sweat and steam from his hairs. Bruce leans back against the floor as his feet push into the wall at the end. The floor cracks into spidery webs as he splays out against it. Great big calloused paws, mitts, bearish hands still try to wrap around the tower of his cock. As big as he himself has become, his cock and balls have outclassed him. So much pleasure has built up, his whole cock flares. It pours out a stream as big as a 5 gallon bucket of pre. "Ohhh Fuck the growth is getting stronger! My body feels like it's going to explode with mass. Yesss! Keep growing, don't ever- FUCK, stop!!” The giant’s body quakes with power. He pushes his hands into the ceiling as a surge of growth overcomes his entire body. Bus sized feet and boulder soles crash, push into the far concrete wall. Hiis head and shoulders squash in between both boilers and one another. His fingers larger than oil drums flex like biceps, and dig into the ceiling. “Too much, TOO MUCH POWER! IM GUNNA… GUNNA. W-WATCH ME…” A roar that would shake the building plus few blocks around escapes the maw of the muscled janitor. He thrusts his cock between the ceiling and his pecs. He grinds his obelisk against the squarish slabs, against his corkscrew hair, against the concrete as it crumbles away. A flood of cum erupts from the beastly muscled gramps. You think this story would end here. But oh no… Just as there is more white than any color on the page you read now, there is a hundred times more white expelled from Bruce’s cock. It wasn't even done growing. It’s barely even started. As much cum is it expelled, it didn't end. It only refilled more. Those balls make cum faster than that bludgeon pillar of a cock could expel. So the janitor does the only thing he can, he grips that ceiling and pushes that cock though the ceiling to the floor above. Thrust after thrust, he unloads into another boiler room above. It’s just as empty and desolate as the one they were in. A whole room that would be destroyed by the jets of cum, rocket out of his cock. A room, whose pipes would break again, snap and fray. A room and hallway whose temperature skyrockets, with hot, musky steam. Heavy hot breaths fill the room below. Inaudible growls of lust wrend the air in quakes, as balls slap up and down splinters of concrete. The scientist escapes behind a far pillar in time, before he can be crushed. Drips of sweat, steam, and sex echo though-out the room between howls. Levels of cum rise. They fill the room as the glory hole in the ceiling cracks. Alternate surges of cracks pour down cum, then thicken as the growing cock plugs it back up again. The scientist feels doomed if he stays here much longer. Either the rise in heat would burn him, or building collapse above will bury him alive. It’s time to flee for his life. He trudges through the viscous cum and exits to the world above. One last glance back over his shoulder, he cums again in his pants. He leaves his precious research behind. He ascends the stairs to pull the fire alarm, to get everyone out. Fifteen minutes later, the building is surrounded by police and firemen. EMTs respond to to call. There are murmurs about the heat. How it’s either too hot or too cold. How they all felt a minor earthquake. A few of the patrons described how it smelled like a gym. Firemen gather at the utility stairs to the sub basements, but can’t budge the door. It seems to have been blocked off by a collapse of the foundation. A slurry pumps out from the cracks of the door. This causes some of the firemen to sport erections. Just as they turn around to head back to the truck, an aftershock hits, the stairwell collapses. The ground undulates and cracks. People flee from the underground park area. The firemen run and push people out of the building. Some stand around the exits of the lot. THOOOOOOOOOMMM Something enormous bursts through the ground in an explosion of grey dust and smoke. It crashes up though the car park into the build above. More bursts from the ground. It tears apart as people run away from the building. Windows bust out from the bottom floor up as smoke billows out. Every now and then rubble and office furniture tumbles out. A few minutes of this go by, when a rumble grunt overwhelms the emergency lights and sirens. “UUNNNGGHHHHHH!! OUUUUGHHHHHH!!!” It’s so loud. It pierces everything. The bass howls shockwaves. Birds flee and take flight from around the building. It is so guttural and low. Those close enough fall to their knees. Maybe in disbelief, maybe out of fear, but the way their eyes roll back in their heads tells other tales. The scientist steadies himself against a tree, across the street in a small parking lot. He huffs. He glances upwards, and stares towards what he hopes can’t happen. It can’t be what he thinks it is. “No no no no. This can't be happen… It can't be!” He yelps to himself in disbelief. It can’t be who he thinks it is. Another aftershock hits, the scientist falls to his knees. His eyes widen as an immense figure bursts out the top of the eighteen story building. The giant speaks in a lust addled deafening voice, “"Awwww Shit this feels so DAMN GOOD!!! Grow FUCKIN' HUUUUGGGEEE!!! C-c-can't s-stop. MMOORRREE!” He flexes his upper body like he reaches for something tangible above. With a surge, his body grows in an epic spurt. The building cracks apart, as chunks fall down. Bystanders run and scream as some of the firefighters and men stay, watch, transfixed. “OHHHHNNNGGHHH. FFFFUUUOUGHH FUCK. That's it body, I can feel UNGH, another HUGE GROWTH SPURT COMIN' ON, MAKE THIS MATURE MUSCLEFREAK INTO A GIGANTIC MUSCLEBEAST. C'MON BODY...GRRRRROOOOOOOWWWWW G-GRRRR-GRROOWWWWW!! AAAAGGGNNNNHHHHHHHH!!" Everyone gapes toward the growing giant. He expands up and out into a supreme god as the building crumbles around him. Eventually caught in self pleasure, a tremendous hairy thick base of a cock peeks up out of the rubble flanked by monstrously thick muscled thighs. It quickly chubs up, as it pushes out of the building by its own power and growth. The cock head lands in the street, almost on top of the park. The giant’s eyes flutter with pleasure. The building now in shambles crumbles all around. It sends a dust cloud everywhere. The giant stands there in the cloud. Bruce feels himself up, flexes, growes, growls rumbles. "HOLY FUCK MY COCK IS COLOSSAL!! And it's still G-GROWING BIGGER!! Never imagined my body would get so massive if I caught this growth flu, but UNNGGGHHH I don't want to stop growing! I need more size, more muscle, NNNGGHHFFFF, more cock!! RRUUOOAAUUNGHHHH! SO FUCKING HUUUUUGE!!!!” Huge balls swell with vast reservoirs of manly cum. An audible a water balloon noise being filled violently. Creaks that snap the air like distorted drums. The scientist spots the janitors balls swell. They expand so fast they hit the ground with a shuttering force. The earth below quivers. The giant, addled with lust falls forwards over his convulsing member. The janitor’s bloated hands fall on either side of the park, his face hovers over the scientist. Bruce lays on top of his shaft, his hairy muscled chest traps it below. The janitor sees his little scientist on his knees. The scientist looks up at him and grabs his groin. “Hey there Mr. Scientist. You know, this BIG grandpa should give you a big th-thanks.” As he starts to thrust his row-house sized cock. The janitor digs his hands into the streets, he balls up fistfuls of asphalt like sand. He slams his cock out, and drags it through the street. He howls and growls. Saliva foams, drips from his mouth. It splats next to the scientist. Knowing what’s to come, the scientist books out of the park as fast as he can. As he exits he hears a blast of clear pre take out the tree he used to lean on. It rips through buildings and roads in the path of the stream. While Bruce’s beast jets pre and floods the area, his body pulses larger, bigger, wider. Bruce towers over down-town buildings while he lays on his cock. The monster has decimated city blocks as his fists alone crush a block with their explosive growth. Booming mountain sized feet plow behind the giant. What’s not getting pushed away or destroyed by his feet and legs are getting crushed by the immense balls. They flatten the skyline. Streets flood as the grandpa’s growth accelerates. His accelerated growth fast eclipses buildings with just a finger. Unlimited muscle, power, and lust cascade through his python veins. Nay, his subway sized network of veins. Sweat drips down his hot body. It spreads like a cloud of sex over the city. “Awwww Shit this feels so DAMN GOOD!!! Growing FUCKIN' HUUUUGGGEEE!!! My balls are so fuckin' heavy and massive, I can feel all the cum brewin' in 'em, gonna...HNNG...GGNNNFFFF....HUGE LOOOOAAAADD!! UUNNNGGHHHHHH!! GOTTA PUMP-PU-PUUGHHHH HU-HUGERR!!! Muscles pump and swell. They surge so fast it pushes into his neck and head, his whole face swells. He has to stand up or be choked by his own muscles, the city cracks under his feet the size of a county. The ground buckles under his tremendous weight as his cock surges above his head again. It’s wider than his body as it erects skywards. The gramps stands miles high, the colossal god has to steady himself between his cock and balls. He grips his cock that flows with an immeasurable amount of pre, right before it stops. His balls pull up against his body. The god tries to put a choke hold on his own cock to no avail. "THIS GIGANTIC GRANDPA'S GONNA PUMP OUT THE BIGGEST LOAD THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN...GONNA COAT THIS STATE IN MY THICK MUSKY LOAD!! HERE IT...HHNNNURRRGGGGHH… CUMS. OH FUCK MY MASSIVE BALLS ARE CHURNING SO LOUD AND...GGNNHHHH… FFFFUUUCK FRRRUGHHHH, SHIT SHIT OH FUCKING SHIT HERE IT COMES, IT’S COMING, IT'S BLOATING UP MY GINORMOUS COCK SO FUCKING BIIIIGGGGGGG. NGGHHHHOOOOOAAAAHHHHFUUUUUCKKKKK! HOLY SHIT, AWWW FUCK YEAH CAN'T STOOOOPPPP CUUUUMMMMMIIIINGGGGG!! YES YES YEEEEEESSSSSSSS! OOOHHHHHHGGGGGGG SO MUCH FUCKING MUSCLE CUUUUMMMMM!!! M-MORE MORE CUMMMMM!!!" Clear across the country, out of a gym, walks Scott and Will. They just met in the gym. Will gave Scott a few lifting pointers. Will isn’t a trainer, just a guy. If someone needed help he’d offer them his know-how. They exchange numbers outside when a meteor shower starts above. That’s weird… It was so bright during the day, they just stood there in awe. Until ash started to fall, they decided they’d better get home. Neither of them drove. No taxis were available on the apps, so they decided to walk home fast. They share almost the exact same route most of the way. After a good two miles they rushed to Will’s place. Instead of parting, Will decides he would instead invite Scott inside. A rainstorm hits. Perhaps it had something to do with the meteors. Scott decides with the rain he better take the invite and heads inside. “Oh, you can call me Brawn by the way,” mentions Scott. His friends call him by that nickname. He shakes hands with Will. Just as they turn towards the house, they hear.. “BIGGEST FUCKING Grandpa on the planet!! C-C-CAN’T s-stop CUMMING!!!! GOD DAMN it’s SO GOOOOOOOOD!!” It rolls like thunder from a distance.
Chapter One "You really do like tinkering with that machine of yours don't you? What does it do now? Turn people into the smartest men alive? Turn them into the dumbest jocks in existence?" As James chuckled he smiled and said "Actually, you could say all of the above!" and with that placed an arm around Larry's shoulder and took him to their bedroom where he reached under the bed and took out a laptop. "I guess it all started back in the 1970's for me" smiled James and with that mused for a moment, "Amazing" he said, "here we are, 2035, I'm in my fifties, you are now in your eighties and yet we look like brothers" and with that carried on with his explanation. "One of the bugbears of school life for me was my health. I was always catching things. Colds, flu, you name it I got it! Back in 1974, I caught a real doozy of an infection, laid me up in bed for the best part of four weeks, but on the plus side I did have a small television by my bed and one day, I caught this" and with that clicked the play button on the online video sharing site and asked "Recognise this?" "Is that??? No, it can't be? Buck Rogers, the Republic serial from the 1930's? Goodness, I remember watching that when I was a child!" "It certainly is and to be honest I didn't think much of it, I mean, call those rockets. However, a few moments later that opinion changed completely!" "When I saw that the first time, do you know what I did?" Larry shook his head. "I came!" replied James, "to see a man's mind wiped, just like that, it stimulated me for the first ever time and from that moment I was hooked. When the Daredevil comic had him having his brain emptied a few weeks later, I came again" "From then on I couldn't get enough, everytime the words brain drain or mind transfer were mentioned in a comic strip or on a television show I would just come. Be it Mighty Mouse in the 1980's, the Turtles in the 1990's, even Stargate SG-1 in the millennium. I couldn't help myself" "So" chuckled Larry, "I'm not the only one with a fetish then!" "True" replied James, "but in the last few years they have actually tried to make it work, all theory of course, but I took their work and applied it to my machine and I think...I think...I think I have done it. I think I have made a working mind transfer machine!" and with that he moaned as a damp patch appeared on his pants. As he recovered he added "and I want you and Francois to be my test subjects!" "Me?" exclaimed Larry, "have my mind residing inside Francois's bulging muscular body?" "No" chuckled James, "your mind residing inside Henri's bulging muscular body. I want Francois to know what being a Titan really meant and what better way then to send his mind back in time to Porthos's body and Porthos's mind into Francois's body. Of course, he'll need someone there to help him and who knows more about the Musketeers than you?" "You just want to worship Henri, don't you?" smiled Larry "Am I that easy to read?" chuckled James as he e-mailed Francois with "a unique offer to live your ancestor's life in the flesh, and I do mean, flesh!"
“Professor Hutchens, something's wrong. I don’t think it's supposed to be bubbling like this,” says my assistant Josh, a heightened concern in his voice. "Ignore it and just follow the directions. I've been working on this particular formula for months and checked the calculations this morning. Don't forget, I've been doing this for over a decade," I say in a huff. I am too busy grading my students' papers to walk over to the other side of the lab and check on his work. I had been up all night perfecting this latest batch, and had done my due diligence in double-checking the formula this morning. So what if I got zero sleep last night. I had to make my deadline. Associate professor positions pay shit money and I have to pay the rent somehow. So here I am covertly using university time and lab equipment to perfect a serum for a private biomedical company who has contracted me for a secret project. It's a project I can't truly talk about — you wouldn't believe the number of NDAs I had to sign to get the contract — but at its essence, it's a formula that will boost human potential by unlocking the confines of human strength and capability. "Alright, professor. Whatever you say. I'm just saying. It looks funny," Josh replies. Ah, Josh. Ever the simpleton. But that's why I hired him. He can follow orders well enough and better yet, has no idea that what I'm doing is illegal. He just needs the money as bad as I do. He's handsome in a boy next door kind of way — square jaw, a smattering of freckles, and sweeping brown bangs that highlight his soft green eyes. Oh, and a body that's in pretty good shape for a 20-year-old who cares more about partying than pretty much anything else. An inch or two shorter than me at 5'10", I would guess he weighs around 180 lbs. Despite the unshapely lab coat, I can tell that his muscles are developed. Actually I know this for a fact since I creeped on his Instagram late one night and saw that shirtless pic of him at the frat party. He doesn't have washboard abs, but they're peaking under a thin layer of fat and good lord does he have a bubble butt to die for. Round and juicy. Geez, I'm getting distracted. At the end of the day, he gets me what I need: someone who will take orders and ask as few questions as possible. **glass shatters** "Professor, professor!" Josh yells. I look up and a crimson colored plume of smoke is quickly enveloping Josh's work station. I run over to survey the situation, stopping to grab a fire extinguisher in case of an open flame. Josh continues to shout as I arrive at his desk. To my surprise, there is no flame, just a broken beaker. The plume of smoke has dissipated. "Josh, are you alright?" I ask. Internally I'm freaking out. Where did the smoke go? How much of it did he inhale? If something serious happens to him as a result and the university finds out... My racing thoughts are cut off by a groan from Josh. "I don't feel so good," he exclaims. With another groan he reaches out and grabs the lab counter, slightly bent over. He looks queasy. "Maybe take a seat over..." I start to say before I am interrupted by an even louder moan. "Ohh... ughhhhh, ohhh..." he groans. And that's when I noticed that Josh was sweating through his clothes. This isn't good. "Fuck, it's hot. My skin is burning." Josh exclaims, clutching his stomach. "Water, I need water." I run over to the sink and fill a sterile beaker with water from the tap, but notice that Josh's breathing has slowed and that the moans have ceased. "Hey Josh, how are you feeling?" I say with concern in my voice. "Okay now. My skin is still a little warm but it's not so hot anymore. Just a little tingly." he says. "Okay, well let's drink this glass of water and maybe get you out of that soaked lab coat." I reply. "I'm feeling really tingly now, Professor Hutchens," he says, straightening up. I start to help him get out of his lab coat and that's when I notice that we're eye-to-eye. "How tall are you, Josh?" I ask. "Five foot ten, why do you ask?" he replies as he wipes the sweat from his brow. "No reason." I reply. If I'm just over six foot, there's no way... "Fuck," he exclaims. "I need to get out of this lab coat, it's feeling really tight." **rip** The back of Josh's jacket suddenly rips along his lats. I can see his sun-kissed skin poking through the stark white of the coat. "We need to get my pants off too, fuck they're tight." **rip** Josh blows out the back of his pants. Holy shit, I think. His ass is impossibly round and firm. What I would give to... Josh cuts me off. "Ugh. What the hell is happening to me, professor? Why are my clothes so goddamn tight?" Josh asks, anger rising in his voice. It's then that I notice Josh is clearly looking down on me. He notices it too. "Holy shit, I'm growing," he says in surprise. "Ugh, it must be a reaction with the compound you were working with, I'm sure there's no cause for worry." But I'm worried the fuck out. This was an untested batch of the formula. "I'm definitely getting bigger," he says surveying his growing body. Just then, Josh's shoes make a popping noise and start to rip at the toe. First his right foot, thick toes peek through as they lengthen. Then his left. Previously a sensible size 11, he was now clearly pushing size 15, maybe 16. Bigger and more powerful, each toe grows menacingly large. Josh takes a look at his hands, and they slowly lengthen and thicken before his eyes. It's then he notices that his lab coat is now straining helplessly across his broad chest. With one fell swoop, he grabs it and rips it to shreds. He groans. Tossing aside the sweaty, ripped remains, Josh's upper body is now on full display. Thick, dark, quarter sized nipples increasingly point downward as his pecs heave forward. Rounder and firmer they grow, hovering over his abs. Whereas only a faint outline could be seen before, the top two rows of abs jut out as fat melts away. Sex lines begin to appear above the waist of his now impossibly tight jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm going to be in so much trouble. But then again, the formula clearly works. Better than I imagined it to. Also I'm hard as hell. Josh was quickly pushing 6'4" and there was no sign of the growth stopping. "FUCK, this is amazing. I'm going to be huge!!" Josh yells, his voice now deeper and filled with cocky confidence. He rubs his thick, meaty hands across his broad chest. Tweaking his nipples, a guttural moan escapes his lips. Grabbing the top of his jeans, he rips them open, buttons flying. Holy shit, he's strong. Pre-cum soaks through my pants. I take in Josh's bottom half and notice that round veiny calves anchor his now inhumanely thick legs. Meaty thighs quiver and thicken as Josh's white, sweat-soaked briefs strain against growing frame. It leaves nothing to the imagination — Josh is packing. Half-hard, his cock already appears to be ten inches and thick. I can't imagine how huge it is at full mast. Actually, I can and the stain of pre-cum on my pants grows larger. He grasps his dick through his underwear. Goddamn, that's so hot. Josh turns around to take a look at himself in the mirror and I get a glimpse of his back. Wider and wider his lats spread, as pound upon pound of muscle is added to his frame. His traps, growing thicker by the minute, give him an imposing air. Triceps flaring, I'm starting to get scared. Josh is quickly turning into a god among men, and a cocky one at that. "How fucking big am I going to get, doc?" he barks at me, cupping his growing pecs as he admires his own reflection. "I want to know. How fucking big?!" "I... I don't know. This formula has never been tested before. This is... more than I could have ever imagined." I stammer. "I hope it doesn't stop. I want to grow huge," he grunts as he gains another inch in height. He turns back around. Josh's underwear is hopelessly clinging on for dear life. Escaping the confines of the strained cotton briefs and snaking halfway down his thigh, a giant cockhead the size of a small apple stares at me. Fabric taut, his briefs are looking more and more like a thong by the minute, riding up an impossibly round and juicy bubble butt. **snap** Josh's underwear gives way under the pressure of his growing muscle ass. At this point, he's rock hard and stroking his cock with his meaty hands. I'm mesmerized. Never in my wildest dreams could I picture something so insanely thick and long, coursing with raw masculinity. Two large balls the size of lemons, quiver with young stud cum. The naked jock stares down at me, a hunger in his eyes I've never seen before. He had to be 6'8" by now. "Suck my cock," the giant demands. "What... do you... mea..." I studder. "I said suck my cock. I can see that my body is turning you on. And I'm horny as hell. Suck my fucking cock." he growls. I don't know what to do. On one hand, I've never been hornier in my life. On the other, Josh's cockhead alone is big enough to fill my mouth to capacity. I don't think it's even possible to take the whole... Josh grabs my head and shoves me to his crotch. Sweaty, I'm enveloped by his manly musk. "I said, fucking suck it!" he commands. I lick the head. His pre, salty and thick, is unlike anything I've ever tasted before. I open my mouth wide as Josh's places his baseball mitt sized hand on the back of my head and shoves me onto his growing member. I can only get my mouth around four or five inches of the shaft, it's much thicker than a soda can. "Yeah, you little bitch." Josh moans. "You turned me into a god, and now you'll worship me like one." I can't believe this is happening but I'm lost in the moment. He's right: my formula has turned him into a studly beast. Even though I can tell the growth is slowly, he must be pushing 7' tall at this point. And god, the muscles. They're unreal. Josh's cock surges in my mouth. Not done growing, I guess. I work his tool as best as I can. Tears stream down my cheek as I strain to take it in. I grab his round muscle butt for leverage and realize I can't hold on any longer. I blow my load in my pants. Josh's groans from the growth slow, and are replaced with increased moans as I service his cock. I lick and suck and spit, working the 16" rod with all my strength. "Ugh, I'm gonna shoot!" Josh roars unexpectedly. **pump** **pump** **pump** Rope after rope of thick, virile stud cum shoots down my throat. **pump** **pump** **pump** His dick quivers with each pump. Holy shit, this is a lot of cum. **pump** **pump** **pump** Josh continues to moan like an animal in heat. I struggle to take it all in and cum starts escaping from the corners of my mouth and drips onto my clothes. I shoot another load in my pants. **pump** **pump** The seemingly endless stream of cum slows. Josh's breathing, while labored, calms down a bit. Two more pumps and he's done. My mouth full, I swallow the last of his load. I've never sucked down so much cum in my life. "FUCK," he exclaims, pulling out his cock and leaning his huge frame on one of the tables. The growth has stopped. "I'm starving," he says as he grabs his torn lab coat and ties it around his waist, a futile attempt at modesty given his hulking frame. "I'm going to find some food." And with that, he walks away from me and heads to the lab's exit, ducking through the doorway. I'm at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what just happened. A dull, but noticeable tingle spreads across my body and I notice I'm soaking through my own lab coat. I'm covered in Josh's cum, yes, but also soaking with sweat. I should probably get out of these clothes, I'm feeling restricted because they feel... tight against my frame. God, it's hot in here. My skin's on fire. *RRIIPPP*