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  1. Jason and his buddies weren’t really the social butterflies that inhabited instagram, he mostly just used it to perv on hot girls. Him and his mates only really used any social media to keep in touch to organise their Dungeon and Dragons session. But one day Jason was on the bus heading home from the comic books store he was just playing around on his phone, ogling the slutty pics of this hot blonde he’d taken a shine too. He noticed a flashing icon. He’d never seen it before, just a simple button with a stylised J. He clicked it. The image of his spotty greasy face appeared, it had opened up the camera. Jason was a little freaked suddenly seeing his own reflection. In his haste to get his own ugly mug out of his sight he clicked the shutter button and the phone faked a shutter click and took a photo. The picture that appeared on Jason’s screen wasn’t Jason. It had the same shocked and hurried expression, some slight blurring around the edges from the fast movement of the head. But the face wasn’t Jason, it was some young good-looking guy, he looked a couple years older than Jason. Like he could pass for a college senior and not the college freshmen who still looked like a high schooler that Jason was. The guys hair wasn’t flat and greasy, it lush and styled. His jawline well defined and squared, a faint dusting on stubble decorating it. The eyes were bright blue, with a hint of arrogance behind them. Jason sat back in his seat, and then nearly threw himself out of it. His entire body was different. His nerdy shirt which had been baggy to hide his skinny shape was tight around meaty shoulders and pecs. His biceps straining the sleeves, a vein running over the semi flexed arms. Jason brought the camera back up, the moving live image of the guy from the photo’s face appeared. It was Jason. An instagram notification popped up, ‘please rate the new jock filter’. Jason looked at it and then back to his newly muscled body. His legs longer and thick, new large feet filling out huge sneakers. He gave the filter 5 stars. That was weeks ago. Since then Jason had introduced his buddies to the filter, after he calmed them down when a 6’3 jock turned up wearing Jason’s clothes and wanted to be their dungeon master. He used the filter on them all, oddly his instagram was the only one with the filter. Now his friends were all jocks, and all taking full advantage. Kyle had joined a frat, Luke had joined the football team and Jason was just talking every hot girl he could into bed. He’d even started using instagram to house pictures of his new body instead of using it for walk bank material. The new Jason was becoming very popular. The gym picks of the three friends getting a lot of responses and the live streams Jason hosted just talking about comic books while in his bulging underwear were very popular. The hot blond girl Jason had been jerking off over before he used the filter had even started messing him after she noticed he’d liked a load of her pictures. He’s ignored her, he felt he didn’t have to settle for a 7, he was aiming for 8s or above now.
  2. Glenn’s fists slammed down his beefy cock, it had nearly tripled in size since yesterday and had been begging for release all day. Now he was home he could get around to it. His muscles glistened with sweat and he flexed an arm to tease himself with his own thick muscle boy looks. He was still shocked by how one simple miss-worded command on the Chronivac had changed the world. His room was weird, still nerdy, with comics and video games, just now a massive weight set dominated the room. Also the posters on the walls were strange, an Avengers poster with so little muscle it looked like a parody. Before he started his mammoth jerk off session he’d searched out some porn and was very disappointed. None of it was sexy, just flabby wheezing men fucking good looking girls. So instead he clicked through the TV to some random show, it was filled with huge hunky nerds living the dream of scoring a gorgeous girl and it was surprising erotic. The whole episode seemed to focus on how loud and powerful the main nerd character was in bed, it was better than porn. ——————————————————————————————————— “How was school” Howard, Eugene’s father asked Eugene as he handed him a bloated meat laden sandwich When Howard saw his heavily built son he knew something was up, he’d never seen Eugene walk with such confidence, never seen him puff out his impressive pecs so much. He was close to bursting out of his shirt when he swaggered into the kitchen, Howard was almost smirking when he ordered his son to remove his sweaty shirt. But he was most definitely smirking when Eugene pulled his shirt off so slowly and flexed every muscle as he did so. Looked like his big nerd was growing up. Now the father and son were both shirtless in the kitchen eating, Eugene was quiet and Howard was trying to read him, which scratching at his thick dark chest hair. “School was good” Eugene finally answered “You and Mr. Rhodes practice for your interviews” Howard asked “Tomorrow, I had gym though” Eugene added Howard grimaced, he remembered gym from his high school days, he hadn’t been as huge as Eugene, but he still was a big hung nerd. Horsecock Howard the jocks had called him, laughing as his immense basket bounced in his tiny shorts as he jogged. “Bad” Howard questioned “Not really, it was weird” Eugene say, a little smile on his lips “It felt amazing to show up the jocks, we played HUNK and I dunked the ball and kinda burst out of my shirt” Howard’s eyes widened “Guys over 6’4 aren’t aloud to dunk” “Yea” Eugene shrugged his thick shoulders “Felt good though” Howard nodded, he knew where this was heading, it had happened to him in college, his father had warned him and now it was time to warn Eugene, he’d have to be careful though. “So…..” Howard say pulling the conversation his way “You and Glenn are close” Eugene sniggered and Howard caught a glint in his eyes “He’s straight” Ok, not as subtle as you wanted to be Howard told himself. “There’s no one dad” Eugene shook his head, his long black hair fluttering around his solid hard features “Has there been anyone” Howard asked Eugene blushed, gotcha Howard smiled. “Ok, just be careful, you’re a big guy and thats a double ended sword” Howard started “You could hurt them” Eugene chuckled and Howard sighed “I mean with strength” He flexed an arm, Eugene gulped, knowing he’ll grow to be as big as that tree trunk bicep or even bigger “I was going to wait till you went to college, but if you’re….umm…. playing around” Howard said, Eugene smirked again, the boy trying to act like he hadn’t just lost his virginity “I probably haven’t told you about my time in college” Howard explained “You might think it was like how the films show, just me working out with my nerd buddies and studying” Eugene looked very curious, he’d heard so many stories from his older jock brother Matt, but never from his father. “It wasn’t” Howard smirked, his glorious college years coming back to him “I reached my size now just before I joined college, you’ll probably be the same, so prepare for that growth spurt” he warned “I was a 7’6 freshmen studying computer engineering, I was rock star” “What” Eugene asked suddenly confused Howard smirked “Something happens in college, it didn’t happen straight away, but people grow up, girls realise that a jock isn’t going to be a jock for long, he’s not going to join a professional team” Howard explained “Its the nerds that are going to make the money” Suddenly he talks in a whisper “You know your brothers girlfriend” Eugene nodded “Well she’s only with Matt for the social standing, but I know for a fact she’s fucking the nerd who tutors Matt” Eugene thought of Pablo, the 6’7 hispanic muscle nerd, how the hell was he boning Matt the football star’s girl. “I was doing the same thing when I was in college, the kids pulling a long standing tradition” Howard smirked “You set yourself up as tutor and you fuck every girl who signs up and especially the girlfriends of jocks” Eugene was dead quiet. “I know that won’t work for you, but it adds to what I’m trying to explain” Howard say “You grow up in college, most people still think that short wimpy jock types are hot, but believe me its guys like us who end up with the money and the girls…. or guys” Howard quickly added Eugene considered this, then he realised his parents were an example of this. His father was a nerd, a huge muscleman with millions in the bank, and his mother was a former Italian super model. He’d never considered his mother hot, but she just like one of the popular girls at his high school. “You and mother” Eugene said “You got it son” Howard smiled finishing his sandwich “Your mother used to date guys like that jock Kevin at your school, one night with me and she was addicted” Eugene pulled a face. “Come on we’re both men here and I’ve heard your bed banging against the wall enough times to know you understand what I’m saying, jocks just can’t compete with big nerd cock” Howard smirked taking a quiet and confused Eugene’s empty plate as he left the table ——————————————————————————————————— Glenn stared at the Chronivac, cum splattered over his naked chest and even in his hair, he gently stroked his cock, his cum cannon as he’d called it after it plastered him in thick nerd cum. The Chronivac screen was locked, Glenn had just tried to right his mistake again, it looked like he could only make small changes. Through the blinds Glenn spotted Eugene in his room, he smirked, the nerd stud was shirtless and admiring himself in a mirror. Glenn’s change during the basketball game must of caused some permanent mental changes, Eugene must be starting to love his body. Glenn pulled out his phone and brought up the Chronivac app, it wasn’t locked out like his computer. He typed in some changes and suddenly his doorbell and Eugene’s went off at the same time. Still naked and splattered in cum Glenn swagger downstairs and threw the door open. “Glenn” a breathy voice asked “Courtney” Glenn smiled, just like he’d typed into the Chronivac She was in her cheer uniform, her impressive chest heaving and her legs crossed, Glenn had upped her horniness. “I heard about Eugene, Oscar just keeps going on about it” Courtney says “Really” Glenn leans through the open door, his muscles flexed Courtney launched herself at Glenn, knocking the solid muscle nerd back, he laughed a little before she clamped her mouth over his and he carried her up to his room, gonna make you forget about your boyfriend Glenn thought. ——————————————————————————————————— Howard got the door, shirtless and with his suit pants popped open his bulge peeking out. Two red headed Hollywood nerd boys stared up at him. Howard sighed he knew these types. They could be jocks if they wanted but they fell in love with the look of nerds. They appeared to be twins and Howard guessed they were about 6’2, and looked to have tight bodies under their mass produced ‘nerd’ clothes. “Hi sir, is Eugene in” One red head asked “Yes, who’s asking” Howard asked “Sam and Dan, we’re from Eugene’s school” the other red head said, Howard noted how amazing these boys pouty lips were “He’s in his room” Howard let the boys in As they disappeared up the stairs Howard stole the remote from Matt and turned the volume up as loud as possible, he didn’t want to hear his little boy fuck those two cock hungry red heads. ——————————————————————————————————— Eugene was sitting on his bed in incredibly tight and bulging briefs when the twins appeared. Eugene was quiet and staring as they stripped without a word. They fell to their knees in front of him and worked together to pull out his soft cock, they ran their tongues along it to get it hard, their eyes on Eugene as they did it. “Fuck” Eugene moaned as his cock hardened to its huge full throbbing size One twin started to swallow it down his throat, the other helping him hold the cock down to his mouth while also pressing his face between Eugene’s fat bull balls. Eugene’s head rolled back and he was sure he could see Glenn bouncing some girl in a cheer uniform up and down his cock. “Fuck” Eugene moaned again The sucking twin, Sam, spluttered and choked as he reached the half way mark of Eugene’s dick. He tried to pull back, but suddenly Eugene was holding him by the hair and forcing him further. Dan the other twin sat open mouthed as Eugene skull fucked his brother with real force. “You’re next” Eugene grunted and Dan could only nod. ——————————————————————————————————— Hours later as the sun set Glenn left Courtney in bed asleep and peeked across to Eugene’s room. He gasped and laughed, Eugene was standing and pounding one of the twins that Glenn had sent over down his dick, the other could be seen passed out on the bed. “This is working great” Glenn smirked as his cock grew hard at the display of manhood He grabbed his phone and typed in some more changes, time to spread the wealth Glenn thought as he entered his latest change.
  3. Eric flicked through his phone, it was Saturday night and his best buddy Tom was being uncharacteristically quiet. Normally this time of night on a Saturday Tom would be blasting Eric’s phone through ever app available ordering Eric to get onto Steam or onto his PS4 and start playing with Tom. The two would stay up till the early hours of Sunday before collapsing from exhaustion with sore thumbs and strained eyes. But Tom was being quiet. Eric sent Tom another simple text. He’d move on from the normal ‘hey’ to a ‘are you alright’, but still Tom wasn’t responding. Eric flicked over to another app, again Tom hadn’t responded, the same for every single app. That was when Eric started to notice something odd. Tom’s user name had changed, n00bslayer12 had been Tom’s internet name for years. He’d been super proud he’d been able to get such an internet meme name. Now though the name was b00bslayer12.5. First off, Tom was as near to asexual as a boy could get. Eric had never even heard Tom talk about girls, let along boobs. He was a greasy, fat and short gamer boy. A photo of Tom could be used on the wiki page for virgin and nerd, no one would have any complaints. Eric flicked back over to his text messages, now he could see that Tom had read this messages. He was able to quickly fire off another message when he noticed the profile pic for Tom’s contact on Eric’s phone had changed. Instead of Tom’s fat face stuffed into a batman mask it showed a sweaty muscled man shirtless and snapping a selfie while he brushed his long hair out of his face. Eric clicked onto the pic to get a better look. The man was lightly tattooed, mostly around his wrists and muscled upper arms, a coupled tattoos adorned his wide lats and the curve at the side of his heavy sweaty pecs. The hunk looked to be wrapped in a towel, it hanging low on his toned hips. A stubbled jaw and juicy lips were just visible behind a powerfully veined forearm. Eric clicked out of it and began to write a new message to Tom, but Tom replied. ‘New phne whoo dis’ It was misspelled and lacking any grammar, which for Tom was very strange. Normally Tom was perfectly articulate in his text messaging, even when he was swearing at Eric for not getting onto Steam fast enough. ‘Eric’ he replied back There was a wait for a few seconds. ‘ohhhhh Eric’ ‘sorry bro, dont have you on did phne’ Again with the mispelling, but what did Tom mean he didn’t have Eric on his phone. He was probably the only contact Tom had on his phone besides his parents. ‘What the hell you talking about’ he shot back Tom replied ‘calm the fuck down’ ‘got new phne’ ‘just didnt send you contact over’ Eric signed and replied ‘Ok, so we gaming tonight’ ‘Also why is your profile some shirtless dude’ Tom didn’t respond for a few minutes, but when he did he sent over a bunch of photos. It showed Tom’s room, with the unmade bed, the gaming posters, the dirty plates and dirty clothes. But Tom was present instead was the hunky guy from the photo, just he was wearing Tom’s clothes. The food stained God of War t-shirt was straining over the hunk’s pec shelf and the sleeves tearing around the thick shoulders. Another picture showed two to three girls in the unmade bed. The three half dressed and all of them looking exhausted. Eric recognised them as Tom’s neighbours girlfriends. The three boys next door always bullied Tom and even Eric when Eric was around Tom’s house. The three college age jocks just couldn’t let nerdy Tom be. ‘sorry bro no gaming’ ‘got my hands full’ Eric hurried a reply ‘what the fuck, that guy is you, what the fuckhappened, what the fuckare you doing with those girsl’ Eric’s spelling and grammar was failing him. Tom replied ‘Losing my v-card, losing it a lot today’ ‘Man wish I could explain’ ‘all this jus happened’ ‘i wish I could of brought you along for the ride’ Eric was confused, but while Tom sent these texts he checked social media. Tom was on all of them, and very active when he hadn’t been before. He was popular with thousands of followers, his Instagram filled with photos of the tall broad hunk, countless different girls appearing throughout. Tom was now a stud. Eric replied ‘Why can’t you’ Tom sent a shrugging emoji. ‘only room for one bro’ ‘dont worry, ill come over later’ Suddenly a picture of an enormous battering ram cock popped up on the messages. The head jaw-breakingly fat and the girth even fatter. At the shaved base was a tattoo. 12.5. It was Tom’s internet alias. ‘I have this urge to fuck your throat’ ‘no clue why’ A thumbs up emoji came through and Eric could only gulp in fear.
  4. “What the fuck do you want runt” Marcus grunted He was staring down the smaller guy ahead of him, Jacob his twin brother standing to the right of him. Jacob had an odd smirk on his face, one he shared with the little wimp. But Marcus was sure that they couldn’t possibly know each other. The little guy didn’t answer, he just continued to smirk. He was probably only 5′6, and at least 200lbs of bulbous fat. His greasy matted hair reflected the gyms lighting. Marcus couldn’t help but retch at the very idea that some one could let themselves go like his person had. “My bro said you wanted to talk to me” Marcus said He tapped his protein shake against his brother’s swollen bicep, Jacob just gave him a nod which read as ‘yea this is the guy’. The lump of fat wheezed “Just wanted to say what a great body you have” Marcus was taken aback by that. It was true, he and Jacob were gifted genetically and had used that near perfection to build two bodies of granite. Both the boys were well over 6ft tall, always jumping between 220 and 240lbs. Not to mention the model like faces and surprisingly oversized cocks. “Fuck, you got some balls” Marcus smirked, but added “Well thanks” Marcus went to turn away, he liked being complimented, but he preferred it being from smoking hot gym babes. Jacob though grabbed his arm, and it wasn’t a gentle grab. Jacob’s hand gripped Marcus’ forearm with all his strength. Marcus gasped in pain “What the fuck bro” Jacob laughed, so did the fat guy. “I’m not your bro…..” Jacob smirked with an evil look in his eyes Before Marcus could do anything, Jacob had him pinned against the wall. His protein shake fell from his hand and splattered over the floor. Jacob pressed his knee against Marcus’ packed bulge, applying just enough pressure for Marcus’ balls to hurt. The fat guy stepped over quickly and held his hand against Marcus’ chest, Jacob forced Marcus’ to do the same to the fat guy. “Oh, this is my buddy Luke” Jacob said “And I’m Rick” Marcus tried to ask were his brother was, and what the fuck was going on. “Your brother is currently in my old body, probably hating it as much as I did” Rick explained using Jacob’s mouth and voice “I’ve been living it up in his body for over a week” Rick added with a chuckle Luke had started to chant something, repeating the same phrase of foreign words over and over. Rick continued “And damn is this body fine, I’ve been banging every boy in sight” Marcus’ eyes widened, like him Jacob was straight, dead straight, or at least Jacob had been. With that Luke stopped chanting and Marcus felt his brain shutting down. Then like it had rebooted he was suddenly looking up at his own body and that of his twin. He was Luke now, he could feel gravity pulling on his overhanging gut, he could feel his heart running a thousand beats a minute, then he felt his head hitting the floor as he fainted. “Wow” Luke grunted from inside Marcus’ body already flexing his muscles “I know, amazing isn’t it” Rick said “All that strength” The two friends, now twin brothers hugged. They left Luke’s former body and headed for the locker room, hoping to make an escape before Marcus came too. No one would believe him, but it was still annoying. Rick had been able to deal with Jacob’s attempts to alert people to the body stealer, but now there was another guy claiming to have had his body stolen. It would raise some questions, probably better for the now twins to head to their new home and get settled. “So what you want to do first bro” Rick asked his new brother “Well bro, I want to get my dick sucked” Luke laughed “I’m sure I can arrange that” Rick chuckled, groping Luke’s new fat cock through his shorts Luke recoiled slightly “Come on man that’s weird, plus you know I’m straight” “Yea…. well, that might change” Rick stated Luke stopped dead and gulped, Rick was the one who came up with the body swap spell, he could probably make Luke gay if he wanted. Luke had no idea what he got himself into.
  5. MUSCLE BUDDIES CHAPTER 1 - GREETINGS FROM A BODYBUILDER AND A POWERLIFTER Jeff was a great athlete in high school. He was bigger than most of the kids in his class and loved to play all kinds of sports. He would sign up for as many as he could because he liked the feeling of his muscles pushing against his clothes and the sensation of them tensing and bouncing. He would spend more time in the gym than most of the guys that went there. The pumps he would get would be outrageous. Some days he couldn't get the shirts to stay down on his chest so he would have to go shirtless sometimes. The ladies could not stop staring at him. His chest would heave to the people that he would chafe if he didn't wear something over top of it. He wasn't a virgin past his freshman year. Most of the guys didn't like him because he was so young, yet so advanced physically. There were times when he would be in the locker room in the buff and just stare in the mirrors at all of the curves and bumps in his muscles and would flex them to see how they looked. He wasn't the only big guy on the football team though. There were two other guys that were quite developed, but in different ways. One was more a powerlifter type with a gut and the other was a big lifter himself with huge arms and giant legs. He was a competitive bodybuilder too and would talk to Jeff about your genetics. He wasn't interested in ever competing because you didn't want to do all of the bulking/cutting that was required. The bodybuilding teen would also stare in the mirrors and check out his body, but he would always wear shorts whereas Jeff just stood naked. Jeff figured out that he was an exhibitionist because he liked it when the other guys would check him out. One of the guys always smacked Jeff's butt when he would walk by and then wink. He didn't know what to think because this guy seemed like he was flirting. For the next couple of years, Jeff maintained his size and even tried to get fuller by changing up parts of his diet to make his chest bulge even more. He wanted pecs so big they would come up to his chin. He was only a junior and his body was outlandish. Everybody suspected that he was juicing and he was tested all the time only to find out that he was naturally big. He had a few girlfriends and didn't know how he was going to juggle them. He didn't really have time to hang out with them so he broke up with them. His bodybuilder teammate was actually a little leaner then he was a few years before. He really wanted to know how Jeff's body could be so developed and full and yet be natural. Jeff was close to this guy because he could talk to him about training tips and whatever food he needed to eat. The other guy named Dustin was actually quite fond of Jeff and asked if he could feel Jeff's body just to see what bigger muscle felt like. Jeff was very interested in what Dustin was saying and walked straight up to him and flexed his muscles. Dustin gave out a slight moan and started to rub Jeff's arms and chest. The two guys view themselves as straight, but were obviously weak for muscle. Jeff started to lick Dustin's sweaty chest and kiss his nipples. It wasn't long before they started to worship each other and kiss each other. They would try to overpower each other and talk tough trying to get the other one to give in. Their inhibitions could not be contained. Jeff started to suck Dustin's cock because he wanted to feel empowered. Women couldn't satisfy him because he needed to feel strength. Dustin thrust into Jeff's mouth and made him feel tingly. Jeff couldn't help but moan really loud because he loved feeling Dustin's muscles push against him. Dustin then made Jeff get up and sit on his chest to flex in front of him. Dustin started to rub Jeff's huge chest and stroke his cock. He wanted Jeff's cum so badly that he wouldn't stop stroking him. Jeff could hold back well with women, but with Dustin it didn't take much effort because he loved it so much. With his mouth open, Dustin gobbled up Jeff's huge load and started to moan again. Jeff started to sit on top of Dustin's cock because he wanted him so bad. He had never been fucked before but it just went straight into his head to go for it. Dustin started pounding Jeff and making him moan loudly. Jeff had never felt so much pressure, but he loved to feel Dustin's abs rubbing against his bum. Dustin went to pull out, but Jeff made him keep it in because he wanted to feel cum shoot inside. Jeff was amazed at how far up cum went because he felt Dustin's cock move deeper once cum started shooting. The two guys were very close buddies from that point on. They never had sex with other men, just each other. Both were muscular, but Jeff was considerably bigger than Dustin. The story doesn't end here. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 2 - A WORKOUT SESSION After spending a little more time together through their junior years, Dustin and Jeff have become a little more acquainted with each other’s bodies. Both have different ideas in how they want to look and even how to train, but they agree that they just want to look better than everyone else. Jeff is more interested in looking powerful and massive while Dustin is into the whole aesthetics principle especially since he plans on competing someday in the near future. They knew they had the perfect chemistry together when they spent an evening together at the end of the school year inside the football weight room. Jeff is always notorious for pumping himself up and making his muscles strain to the point that his clothes just barely hold on. His tight t-shirt hangs on for dear life over his heaving pecs as his nipples press against the material. Dustin sits not far away working on his legs as he watches his close friend grunt a bit as he does his deadlifts. He makes a moaning sound a few times to get Jeff’s attention which works beautifully as the huge 16 year old gets a bit flustered pushing the huge load back up to the rack. He glares over at his ripped buddy and gives him a nasty look. Dustin smiles really big at him before he gets up to walk over to where he is. The only other guy in the gym is the powerlifting coach and he is currently in the locker area. Dustin gets behind his sweaty friend and starts rubbing down his shoulders slowly feeling each and every curve of muscle. Jeff turns his head slightly and lets out a low growl as he feels his lover kneading the fibers on both muscle bulbs. Dustin then runs his hands down the big teen’s sides touching his incredible lats and squeezes them feeling their power inside. Jeff lightly moans before turning his head back to its original position again to go back to his deadlifting. Dustin moves right along with him as he moves his body down close to the floor with the huge load on his back. Knowing that Jeff needs his concentration, he lets him go after watching the strongman do several lifts before he begins to show signs of straining and struggling. The ripped teen helps him get the weight bar back to its original position and turns him around to get a good view of Jeff’s pumped body. Now dripping with perspiration, his huge pecs completely show through his shirt. Dustin looks into Jeff’s eyes before leaning in to kiss and lick his massive neck. The powerful guy pulls him in to squeeze him in his arms and smother him in his chest and moans as Dustin begins to feel his insane back under his shirt. The mountains of muscle are nearly too much for his it as Dustin feels a slight tug at the top behind his neck. He finds a tiny rip that has begun to form and pulls on it as it makes a really muffled sound. It shreds all the way down his back as Jeff laughs flexing his back and delts. Dustin can’t help but to reach around and do the same thing to the front as he rips the shirt right down the middle in two exposing the big guy’s engorged bouncing pecs. Dustin leans down to place his lips on Jeff’s nipples making him growl as he buries his lover in them. They both fall down on the ground below the machine as the smaller bodybuilder continues to worship his huge buddy’s pecs chewing and licking each nipple over and over again. Jeff quickly pulls his own gym shorts off showing his huge beefy ass as his cock springs into action rubbing against Dustin’s right leg. After a minute of massaging Jeff’s melons, the two teens lock lips and play tonsil hockey with their tongues. Jeff pulls the ripped teen’s shorts off immediately as their cocks meet pressing up against each other. Their pre mixes together as they continue to kiss longingly. Jeff then returns the favor on Dustin running his lips and tongue along the bodybuilder’s chest and abs. Each ab is massaged slowly with Jeff’s tongue as his lightly colored chest hair is slurped slowly making him moan lightly. Before long the two secret lovers lay beside each other rubbing each other’s quads and cocks lovingly stroking as they switch hands back and forth trying not to make so much noise that the coach comes out. Now leaning their heads against each other, they pick up speed on their cocks as they edge over and over again building their loads up. Their balls swell bigger with each round that goes by. The pre flows so much that they are able to lube their cocks completely before they eventually erupt. Wanting to come together, they rub their muscled bodies together while they stroke to get the maximum effect. Instead of using their hands to jack off, they grind each other as they cover each other’s mouths with their free hands. Feeling it moving through them quickly now, they start to shake the gym floor as both cocks shoot volcanic ropes all over each other. They squeal as their bodies flex at the same time feeling the power emanating from each other. Their nipples meet as Dustin smiles into Jeff’s blue eyes. He winks before sliding his ass on top of Jeff’s thick cock. The big stud moans feeling it being swallowed up as Dustin leans down to lay on his chest. Feeling another surge of power rushing through him, Jeff starts to fuck Dustin faster as he completely buries himself inside him. The smaller guy runs his hands all over Jeff’s huge beefy guns leaning in to run his tongue on the gargantuan masses. They both moan a bit louder now and seem less concerned about being seen than they did before. Another load quickly builds inside Jeff’s balls as he pounds Dustin harder. They both yell in ecstasy as the huge stud finally shoots his second load inside his lover making him have trouble breathing for a few seconds. It is at that moment that they both realize they have been watched the whole time. The coach makes a quick comment which immediately gets the two teens to jump up and go racing into the locker room. The powerlifter laughs at them as he lets go of his own cock and watches it jump up and down for a few instances. He turns to walk out into the area where the weights are and starts doing a few curls taking in his reflection. Dustin and Jeff appear to be out with at least one person that they know of now, but in order to keep it secret, they may have to make a pact with him someway or somehow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 3 - KEEPING A SECRET After making the playoffs at the end of the football season, Jeff wants to come out to the rest of the guys on the team, but Dustin keeps telling him that it isn’t going to help him if he does. After celebrating their last home game with the team, Jeff spends a little bit of time in the locker room having a ‘conversation’ with Dustin. The two studly teens laugh as they horse around near the lockers rolling on the floor and playfully punching each other. Without realizing it, they can hear a deep voice rumbling above them like they are trying to clear their throat. The two young men stop moving and look up at them. The man has a look on his face that makes them wonder if he is mad or not as they stand there with their arms in a dominant stance. The rest of the team has already showered and is leaving the dressing area to go home to prepare for the next game at this point. Dustin jumps to his feet and starts to move away from Jeff but not before the man grabs him by the arm. The man turns to look at him and points to the nearby bench. Dustin goes to sit down immediately afterwards. It turns out that the man is the coach that saw the two teenagers having sex before the football season began. He is also the assistant coach of the football team. The man is incredibly muscled, much larger than he was back when he caught them together. He turns back around and reaches down to pull Jeff up to his feet. The stunned teen is shirtless since he hasn’t yet showered from the game. The coach walks up to him and looks him straight in the eyes before pressing his immense body up against Jeff’s. He knows that the teen has tried to avoid him for weeks because of what happened that night. He grabs Jeff’s hands and puts them on his huge ass which is hugging his tight jeans. Dustin watches intently and even lets out a few moans. The coach grunts a few times before wrapping his arms around Jeff and picking him up. He starts using the muscled teen like a dumbbell curling him and lifting him up and down above his head and directly in front of his face. The man’s groomed beard brushes up against Jeff’s crotch each time to make him react. The coach eventually stops lifting him to watch the young man’s crotch pulse inside his football pants. He leans in to smell Jeff’s musk before running his tongue along the crotch. Dustin knows he should do something, but he finds the whole situation too hot. Jeff isn’t exactly trying to stop the man either since he has had his eye on the coach for as long as the season has gone on. Feeling his own cock stirring in his pants, Dustin gets up to go over and join the other two. He puts his hands around the front of the coach’s chest and pulls on the polo shirt he is wearing, ripping it open down the front which immediately makes the man drop Jeff onto the ground. He turns and yells at Dustin making his huge hairy chest flex as his pecs and abs swell. The force behind the pump makes the sleeves on his shirt shred as his bicep peaks appear through the fabric. Dustin doesn’t get far before he is tackled on the ground by the man. The man tells him to punch him in the chest which Dustin does without a second thought. He laughs and tells him to do it again as it pleases him greatly. He rips the rest of his shirt off and grins as he flexes his upper body again. He forces Dustin to rub his muscles and orders him to say how much he wants his body. Jeff is now scooting behind the coach and rubbing his crotch up against the older man’s ass. The man turns and orders him to take his pants off so he can see how much of a man he is becoming. Without much coaxing, Jeff pulls his pants and jock off to show his engorged cock which has been leaking precum for quite some time. The coach moans as he leans down to swallow the thick pole down his throat. Jeff yells in delight feeling his cock tickling the man’s throat. Dustin reaches underneath and up to unzip the man’s pants to pull them down. The coach’s huge bubble butt stares him in the face as the man’s nine-inch pole dangles towards Dustin’s legs. He pulls the coach down on to his face and shoves his tongue inside the man’s hole making the hugely muscled daddy moan as he continues to work Jeff’s cock over. Knowing that the muscled teen can’t hold out too long, he starts jerking Jeff rapidly as he pulls his cock out and looks up at the teen’s face smiling the whole time. He commands Dustin to keep rimming him as he playfully punches Jeff’s powerful chest with his free hand. Feeling the teen’s balls swelling to twice their size, he runs his tongue along Jeff’s slit hoping to summon the giant load from inside. Jeff can sense the flood moving into his cock and shoves his rod down the coach’s throat which surprises the huge man. He grips the huge teen as Jeff unloads down his throat making the coach moan deeply feeling it fill his insides. Dustin runs his hands along the man’s balls and cock feeling it tense like it is about to explode itself. He stops rimming the coach and slides his body down in time to feel a giant river of cum hitting his face and head. The coach flexes his massive legs and lowers his huge rod down onto Dustin’s mouth trying to get him to open it. He pulls Jeff’s cock out to tell him to do it or he will force him to take it up his ass. After resisting a few seconds, he gulps the hairy muscleman’s cock down and swallows what is left flowing from it. The coach grunts in satisfaction after finally doing what he has fantasized about all this time. He pulls his cock out of Dustin’s mouth and gets up. He pulls up the jeans he was wearing and grabs his shredded shirt before going into the shower area. The two muscled teens stare at each other and wonder what the hell just happened. They both smile before getting up from the locker room floor. Jeff walks over and sits beside Dustin. He leans in to lick the coach’s cum off the teen’s face and moans tasting the spunk before kissing his lover’s lips and holding him in his arms. They both think that their secret is safe with the coach, but they may have to do this again to make sure he keeps it hidden. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 4 - GETTING TO KNOW WHO WE ARE Jeff and Dustin’s junior year is now winding down after the two teenagers both have decided to accelerate their training programs. To prepare for the upcoming football season, Jeff is already starting to up his reps on all of his workouts to get stronger. Dustin is in the midst of a bulking phase that he was talked into trying by more than one person. One of the people in particular that talked Dustin into getting a bit ‘thicker’ is Jeff’s assistant football coach Colton. After that amazing night last winter with both teens, the muscular coach has been spending more time with both of them on an individual basis. He ended up introducing Jeff to one of his former training partner’s and has gotten him started on a program with the powerlifter to get prepared for the upcoming season. With all of these additional workouts, Jeff is away from Dustin more often than not leaving the door open for Colton to spend quite a bit of time with Dustin to help get him through his bulking phase. Colton has gotten more interested in Dustin lately not only because of his dedication to bodybuilding, but also due to some of the conversations they have been having. The coach doesn’t see the two young men the same way he used to after that one night in the locker room. After getting to know them more personally, he has developed separate feelings for both, but is gravitating towards Dustin far more than he has ever for Jeff. Spending time with both young men is becoming quite risky and requires a lot of planning so nobody suspects that there is more going on than what meets the eye. The hunky coach has taken it upon himself to personally train Dustin after school hours and to help him develop his diet for at least the interim until he learns how to do things on his own. Convincing him to get bigger through intense training is something Dustin is not used to, but since he is developing a strong bond with the buff coach, he is willing to give it a try. When the well-muscled teenager first started training with him weeks before the school year ended, he was apprehensive since the coach had an area set up just outside his office located inside the school’s weight room. At first, it seemed really strange to Dustin that he would go to such lengths to do this, but the coach always had explanations that he would give to everyone that ever asked him about it. He even has several members of the football team using the equipment in this area to show that he has a purpose for it. Colton’s main position during school hours is as the physical education teacher for the freshman and sophomores that go there. He doesn’t allow them to use the equipment though unless they are part of the football program. As for the intense training and changes in Dustin’s diet, they are yielding immediate results that surprise both the coach and Dustin. His strength has nearly doubled in just a few short weeks and his body has swelled from a reasonable 165 to close to 200 pounds. The growth of course makes Colton a bit horny at times as he makes it an objective to have the growing teen come into his office to give him personal massages after every other workout. He always tells him that they are needed to keep his muscles loosened up and ready for the next workout. This always makes the young stud laugh since he knows that he is turning the coach on. It isn’t unusual for the muscular coach to strip down to his boxers while he gives Dustin these long massages. Some of these sessions can get quite heated especially if Dustin’s muscles are incredibly pumped up from an intense workout. Colton always makes a move on him during those days which gets the young stud to let his inhibitions roam free. It can sometimes involve a lot of muscle worship on both men and doesn’t always include just their hands either. At this point in their relationship, both of them are willing to go quite far to pleasure each other. The first couple of times this happened, there was some sucking and rimming which generally concluded with a thick creamy finish down Dustin’s throat. From that one night they spent together with Jeff, the young muscleman has thoroughly enjoyed taking the coach’s loads and vice versa for Colton as well. As the weeks have progressed through the summer, Colton’s attraction to his growing student have led to more advanced sex sessions which include Dustin penetrating him with his thick cock and pounding him to the point that he starts grunting like a rhino. The favor is not returned though as the young bloated bodybuilder doesn’t want Jeff to suspect that he is fucking his coach. In other words, he doesn’t want Jeff to see that he has been fucked in the ass. At this point in Dustin’s training, he is now an incredibly bloated 220, an astounding 60 pounds heavier from when he started just eight weeks before. Colton no longer sees Dustin as just a smart muscular teenager he can fool around with. Instead he sees a man with the body of someone that is quite mature for their age. He knows that he must break away from Dustin now or risk being found out by not just Jeff, but also by other people because he is having a harder time keeping it secret anymore. Their last sessions together in the later part of the summer involves a lot of hugs, squeezes, and even some intense kissing. Colton has in fact fallen in love with Dustin and knows that this needs to stop before it goes any farther. The day before summer drills for football began was when the hunky coach told Dustin that he didn’t need to train him any longer since he pretty much knew how to do everything himself. The young stud knew the real reason why he was cutting him loose though and told him that he understood completely. The upcoming senior year is just weeks away and everyone’s priorities are starting to take shape. Remarkably, Jeff never once has suspected that Dustin was seeing his football coach for anything other than training purposes. The same cannot be said for Dustin, who has suspected that the powerlifter trainer that Jeff was referred to by Colton was fooling around with him as well. With such busy schedules however, the last thing that Dustin wanted to do was to jeopardize not only Jeff’s progress for his future in sports but also their relationship with each other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER 5 - ENTERING THE OFFSEASON Jeff and Dustin entered their senior year together, but not out. Their relationship was very strong, but they didn't want to detract from their future endeavors in their sports. Dustin was in a bulking phase, something that didn't go unnoticed in school. He was relatively decent in size the previous year, but now he has grown quite a bit. Many guys have suspected that he juices, not understanding the whole process involved in bodybuilding. Jeff has remained around the same size, but he has also focused more on his training for his future in college. Jeff hasn't decided what sport he will get a scholarship in. Football would be a no-brainer, but he has wanted to play in the Rugby League for years. His hardness has dissipated slightly, but he is still immense. His small layer of fat over top of his skin and his now thick body hair gives him a much more mature appearance. Over the summer, the two men began to hang out more with Omar, their good powerlifter buddy. He has been helping Jeff with getting stronger and more prepared for his possible Rugby career. Omar himself is thick with huge rounded shoulders, a wide back, and powerful arms. He isn't ripped, and he had no intention of ever being that way either. He has always idolized Kevin Nee and wanted to follow in his footsteps. He trained hard last year, but is training even harder now that he is a year older. His relationship with Jeff has gotten more personal due to their training sessions together. The strength and power in his lifts has translated over to Jeff, who has come to love watching Omar lift and grunt and even moan at times when he lifts heavier weight. Jeff himself has gotten much stronger as he has studied Omar and how he is able to control the weight on his back and shoulders when he deadlifts. It is the strength factor that has changed Omar and Jeff's relationship too. When they started, they wore tanks and shorts, now though it isn't unusual for them to just be wearing their boxers. They don't train together until after hours and sometimes it can be tough because of school work or other things in their schedules. They both stand behind each other when they lift so that they don't hurt themselves or need help. Their hands will sometimes travel to places other than the weight bar or the weights themselves. Jeff has a tendency to place his hands on Omar's arms to feel how strong he is when he lifts the weight above his head. It gets him so excited that his cock will sometimes pop out of his boxers and touch Omar's leg. This doesn't stop Omar though. He always laughs afterwards though because he thinks it is strange that Jeff loves strength so much it gets him hard. Jeff's turn comes and Omar tries to keep his attention on Jeff's lifts. He does have a thing though for Jeff's size and has always loved how thick he was and yet have such definition. With Jeff's added width, Omar can't help but start focusing on Jeff's back rather than his lifts. When Jeff put the weight back down on the ground, Omar grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up to start licking Jeff's lower back. This excites Jeff so much that he instantly starts jerking his cock and pulls his boxers down. Omar immediately goes to town on Jeff's big ass and things really start to heat up. Still hoisted in the air, Jeff starts humping Omar's face and getting himself so hot that he cums on the ground. Omar turns Jeff around, puts him on the floor, pulls his boxers off, and starts pumping Jeff with his huge bulk inside him. Jeff can't help but yell with the big man inside him. The pumping doesn't stop for several minutes and Jeff can feel Omar getting closer as his huge balls keep hitting his backside. Jeff loves the pressure from Omar's powerful bulk so much that he is getting close to cumming again. Omar grabs Jeff's cock before he can blow because he wants to blow at the same time. Omar pulls out and starts to double jack both of them. The feeling is so intoxicating that they both start moaning loudly and cum at the same time flowing cum on to both of their cocks. Omar then motions Jeff to try and pick him up because he wants to know how strong he is now. Jeff attempts to lift Omar and his muscles swell as he does so. Omar lets out a huge moan as he sees Jeff literally lift him up and his arms get really pumped. The feeling of lifting Omar gets Jeff so hot that he can't help but cum on Omar's leg. Omar loves it equally too and cums on to Jeff's chest. The two of them realize that they may actually have a thing for each other’s strength and power. Jeff's training time with Omar led to them having sex, but he has talked to Dustin about it too. Dustin is a friend of Omar from way back and wasn't that upset with Jeff being intimate with him. Omar's relationship with Dustin is different because they grew up in the same neighborhood. Their sexual chemistry was not really there. Dustin's physicality is not the same as Jeff's. He has bulked up, but his strength is not in the same arena as Jeff. ------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 6 - APPEASING THE ADMIRER Jeff knows that his strength obsession will become a problem with him and Dustin, but he can't stop seeing Omar either. Their training is necessary because they both get so motivated when they are together. One of Jeff's Rugby teammates is West, a flirty guy with a goofy sense of humor. Jeff has always been friendly with him and has never been threatened by West's very 'suggestive' nature. West is a very athletic guy with symmetrical features and a chiseled face. He is not afraid to admit that he is gay and prefers to be acquainted with the straight boys because he has always identified with them. West's humor has a tendency to go overboard at times, but he makes Jeff laugh quite a bit. What also makes West different though is the fact that he is also close to Dustin, due to his relationship with Jeff. West and Dustin have spent more time together recently because Jeff isn't around as much. Dustin's workouts have involved a lot of cardio since he has stopped bulking and his diet has gone back to being much stricter. West has been helping Dustin with his portions since he himself is on a strict diet. The two of them have had great talks and frankly have bonded quite well. Their parents are always fairly busy and are usually not home so the two of them spend time together at each other’s houses. They aren't afraid to be too close to each other either. West has started to show his affection for Dustin lately and will sometimes jump on to his back just to be playful. Dustin is not as liberal as Jeff is, but he has become more comfortable since he got involved with him. West normally wants to wrestle with Dustin just to get him riled up and it usually happens. West isn't no slouch when it comes to being strong so there is times when he accidentally rips Dustin's shorts. Dustin gets a little irritated when this happens but West always knows how to cheer him up too. He will crack a silly joke and put a smile on Dustin's face. While Jeff was at the gym training with Omar one day, Dustin and West spent an evening by themselves at Dustin's house. A wrestling match ensued and once again West accidentally ripped one of Dustin's pairs of shorts. He ripped it so bad that the bottom half of the shorts fell to the floor exposing Dustin's posers that he wore. West would of course make fun of him for wearing posers, but Dustin liked the way they looked on his body. West would start rubbing Dustin's thighs just to get him riled up again. This time though, Dustin flipped him over and straddled him because he knew that West would react. West moaned and motioned for Dustin to pull his pants down. He obliged and started to lick West's bubble butt covered in sweat. The taste did excite Dustin quite a bit so he started to tease West's hole. This was not something Dustin intended on doing, but he really liked West a lot and wanted to pleasure him. He placed his hands on West's butt and continued to tongue his hole. He felt West relax it and plunged his tongue inside. The feeling was unreal for West who pushed his butt even further into Dustin's face. The two of them then took their clothes off. West asked Dustin if he would pose for him so he could admire his hard work. It didn't take much because Dustin started to flex his still bulky biceps and thick chest. West was very delicate and didn't want to make Dustin feel uncomfortable. He started to feel around on Dustin's bulky upper body and slowly kiss his bouncy pecs. The feeling was so good that Dustin pressed West's face into his pecs. West moaned really loud and could feel Dustin pushing himself onto him. Unlike Jeff, West was definitely a power bottom and was involuntarily humping Dustin. His grinding was just above Dustin's growing dick. It wasn't long before West moved himself to where Dustin could penetrate him. Dustin's hulking thighs were now straddling him and West's impeccable core was ready for the pounding. Dustin moved West's legs back so he could see him penetrate him. He did it ever so slowly so West could feel every inch go in. Dustin's cock made West squeal with pleasure as he watched his hole get stretched. The two guys stayed in that position for quite some time because it felt so good. Dustin finally pulled out so he wouldn't cum inside him. West turned to start sucking Dustin off. He rubbed Dustin's gut as well as grabbing his immense butt. West was intent on making Dustin cum and wasn't going to stop. He would massage his balls and try to deep throat him just to make him give up, but Dustin wouldn't budge. Dustin was enjoying the sex, but he had anxiety too. He was in love with Jeff, but he wasn't around that much so West was basically a substitute for Jeff. He started to rub his chest and his arms thinking about Jeff sucking him off and this would prompt him to finally give his load up. The sucking sped up and West could feel Dustin's cock start to stiffen up. It wasn't long before Dustin sprayed cum all over West's face. Luckily, West didn't swallow it as Dustin didn't want him to. They smiled at each other and hugged afterwards. After the each of them took separate showers, they went back to working on their diet plans. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 7 - LET'S ASSUME WE CAN GET ALONG Spending time with Omar over the summer before his senior year of high school has been incredibly satisfying for Jeff, especially after the recommendation from his assistant football coach Colton Goodwin. His relationship with Dustin has stayed fairly strong despite both of the teenagers urges to let off some steam with various friends of theirs. Jeff’s decision to focus solely on his rugby training is surprising considering that coach Goodwin expected him to work towards football rather than the other sport. This could have played into the decision of why Colton has started spending more time with Dustin and ending up falling for the amateur bodybuilder. Jeff’s unusual relationship with Omar has never really been a problem for Dustin since he has always known that they have fooled around with each other. What he doesn’t know however is that they are doing it far more frequently than before. The sessions they have are more about just showing off how strong each of them is with the other. Jeff’s ability to lift Omar above his head now in his senior year compared to where he started at the beginning of the summer is beyond compare. Omar has grown weak for this kind of horseplay and Jeff is fully aware of it. After nearly every practice for rugby, they train together and wait until the rest of their team leaves before they move on to more important matters. Jeff’s fellow teammate West, who has spent some very personal time with Dustin as well, has had his theories about Jeff and Omar’s relationship. He has known his fellow classmate long enough to know when he is being fairly secretive. His curiosity finally gets the better of him one night after all of the other guys leave. Acting as if he is going to go shower after a training session, he walks down the corridor to the locker rooms and stops before sneaking around a corner to watch the two thick seniors as they start to horse around with each other on the Smith machine. They both are wearing tank tops that hug their beefy chests as well as tight pants that are nice and snug on their bloated legs and asses. West himself wears similar clothing and wastes no time before he pulls his tank and pants off to stand directly in the path of the two brutes. His cock is already dribbling a pool of precum on the ground in front of him just beyond the gym floor. He never once touches it with his hands as it throbs and bounces its way up and down. Jeff and Omar laugh as they strip down to where they are wearing nothing before they pounce on each other. In the beginning of this scene, it is Omar that is the aggressive one but quickly changes to where it is Jeff who takes full advantage of him with his size and strength. Jeff’s power turns Omar on greatly as he moans in his deep voice. West has never seen this side of his good friend before, the rough and rowdy beastly man who wants to be the one in control. Both bulky teens are already soaked and glisten with sweat as their muscles strain and tense with each movement they make. West moans to himself as he runs his hands up and down his ripped muscular chest and tweaks his hard nips making his cock jump each time. He makes thrusting motions in the air like he is fucking someone. He won’t hold out long because he was already horned up from the intense workout he just finished a few minutes previously. He grunts and seconds later sprays several jets of cum all over the ground as it coats the light colored wood. His voice manages to carry its way far enough over to get the attention of both Jeff and Omar which embarrasses him immensely. Before he can turn the other way to escape to the lockers, he hears Jeff’s voice calling for him to come over and join them. He stops moving in his tracks to think about his decision before he walks toward them. Both of the beefy teens grin as they get up off the floor and grab him by the legs to pick him up to put him on their shoulders. Jeff never really thought about West much beforehand, but after seeing his teammate get turned on so much by what him and Omar are doing, he is willing to include the smaller stud in the fun. Both Jeff and Omar take turns using West as a barbell as they deadlift him over and over again. It starts off with some light teasing and quickly moves into full-blown worship as the smaller teen can’t help but to massage both of the stud’s thick chests with his mouth and tongue. It isn’t long before West moves down to find their meaty cocks and works them over slowly and methodically making the big boys grunt each time he deep throats them. Jeff and Omar take turns punching at each other’s stomachs while West gets lost in massaging their immense rods. The taste of their precum sets him on fire as he feels another load building up in his own balls. West stops sucking them occasionally to look up at them to see what they are doing to each other. Jeff will flex his massive guns every time he notices West looking and smiles down at him before telling him to go back to servicing his cock. After several minutes of gulping on both poles, the smaller teen can feel them getting closer to bursting. He stops sucking finally to stroke them both in unison. Their hips thrust in sync with each other as West moans loudly feeling his body thrusting along with them. In a remarkable turn of events, both Jeff and Omar explode at the same time and hit West in the face as giant rivers of cum go splashing down his chest and onto his cock. The instant the white flood hits West’s rod, he shoots another big load all over the gym floor. Once he finishes, he gets up and hugs both men tightly. Jeff and Omar continue to smack each other around this time moving up to their pecs and grunting a few times. West asks them to kiss each other, but they decline. Instead, Jeff picks him up and wraps his thick arms around the fit teen’s waist and pulls him in to kiss his lips. West moans deeply as he puts his hands on Jeff’s head and leans into him. Omar smiles and asks if they need to be alone which prompts Jeff to immediately stop kissing the thinner teen. He asks the strongman if he would want a kiss from his friend since he is pretty good at it. Omar resists at first but then grabs the teen to turn him around. West peers into the big man’s brown eyes and swoons a little. They smile at each other before West leans in to lock lips with the burly powerlifter. To Omar’s surprise, he actually likes the way the fit teen kisses him and holds him tightly against his barrel chest. After a few minutes of light kissing, Omar puts West back down on the floor. Both Jeff and the big strongman rub their admirer’s head to show their affection for him before they grab their stuff to go to the locker room. West sits down in the same spot for a minute or two to take in what just happened. He finally gets up and follows behind them to go wash up from the amazing encounter he just had. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER 8 - IS THIS REALLY THE END? After getting a little bit of personal time in with both Jeff and Dustin, West feels as if he has accomplished quite a bit after what transpired over those two days over the past year. Jeff and Omar’s relationship has grown stronger over the winter months and into the spring season when they finish playing rugby for the year. Spending time with Dustin hasn’t been as much of a priority as it used to be, but they still manage to have a little bit of fun every now and then when they feel they are up to it. Dustin has changed his lifting regime up a bit from where it was previously last fall. Instead of slimming down to be in contest shape, he has decided that he feels more comfortable staying bulky, at least until after his senior year. He also thinks about Coach Goodwin quite a bit and has a bit of trouble avoiding him since they pass each other occasionally in the halls during school hours. The senior’s relationship with his family is very strained as well since they found out about his close relationship with Jeff. They gave him an ultimatum of staying with them and giving up on Jeff or leaving and finding his own way. He ended up choosing the latter since they have never understood who he was and his obsession with bodybuilding. Jeff has offered for Dustin to come live with his family, but he declined thinking that it would be too much of a distraction for them since their relationship was only supposed to be known between themselves in the first place. Instead of depending on other people, the growing bodybuilder has been able to raise money through donations he is receiving through his website that he started up during the winter. Of course, one of the gifts he offers for his supporters is of him posing and flexing in his shorts only, but no further than that. Jeff naturally is in favor of this kind of reward since he has always had a thing for Dustin’s hot body especially if he gets to watch off camera. He has tried to keep it secret from his friends that he has been kicked out of his home. For the last few months of his senior year himself and Jeff’s friend West have gotten a lot closer especially since the fit senior figured out what is going on with Dustin’s situation. He has helped find an apartment for the bodybuilder to live in for at least the last few months of school until he decides what exactly he needs to do for the foreseeable future. With graduation just around the corner, Dustin knows he can’t avoid Coach Goodwin any longer since he is one of the representatives of the senior class. The head coach of the football team is retiring and Colton is set to take over the football program. He plans on implementing some much needed changes to the conditioning and nutrition habits of the current and incoming players to the program. Goodwin himself has continued to grow as well. The clothes he wore just this past season were getting a bit snug in places that shouldn’t have ever been looked at from other people. Now, the only time he puts them on is to see how quickly he can hulkout of them to make him feel dominant and maybe even a bit horny. During the last day of classes, Colton manages to stop Dustin in the hallway to pull him over to the side to have a chat with him about a few things. It turns out that West was told by Jeff during one of his drunken stupors a few days before at a senior party about Dustin, the coach, and Jeff’s little rendezvous in the locker room the year before. West then went and told the coach about it and promised that he wouldn’t say anything as long as he could be kept in the loop about everything going on in their inner circle. Goodwin agreed to it and knew that he needed to go talk to Dustin about this before the year ended. Plus Colton misses Dustin more than ever and just wants to have another deep personal conversation with his young bodybuilder friend. Dustin never realized how much he missed the coach either. After a few more minutes of talking about the situation, the beefy bodybuilder reveals to Colton that he is living in an apartment by himself with the help of West and the website he set up. Goodwin is shocked by this and wonders why his parents would be so harsh about the relationship. He tells Dustin that he will go talk to them about this if he wants him to, but the senior says that he is actually over them. His parents have never understood why he makes the choices he does especially with his bodybuilding obsession. Colton grabs him around the waist and squeezes him tightly. Their hug is brief, but it has its impact as Dustin leans into him for a few seconds to rub his thick furry face against Colton’s broad veiny neck. He can feel the raw power emanating from the coach’s bloated muscles and wants to rub them, but can’t with so many people around. They stop hugging and say goodbye and agree to meet again when the graduation is over so they can talk in more detail about the future. Graduation night arrives after a tremendous ceremony that both Jeff and Dustin enjoyed immensely. The beefy rugby stud’s family was there to greet both of them at the after party before they quickly departed for home. The bodybuilder is grateful that Jeff has such a loving family and really appreciates everything that they have done for him. West hangs out with them for a while as well, flirting with both teenagers equally and being a bit too touchy feely. He admits to both of them that he will miss them greatly since he is going into the Navy to be with his boyfriend, Jake Reynolds, who is the guy that talked him into it in the first place. Omar was not able to attend graduation because he had to leave for a trip to his homeland in the Middle East. His family has been ravaged by the despair that is being caused by the terrorists in Syria and he wanted to go help them get out. He is able to keep in touch with Jeff quite a bit though so it isn’t all bad. Once the reception ends, Jeff and Dustin spend some alone time together outside the building it was held in off in a corner close to the football field. They make sure nobody is around before they strip down to their boxers and start running their hands up and down each other’s bodies worshipping each other. This leads to some very rough sex which is something they haven’t done in weeks. As Jeff gets ready to shoot Dustin full of his man seed, a very low gravelly voice is heard nearby. The young bodybuilder immediately recognizes that it is Coach Goodwin’s voice and pulls Jeff’s cock out of his hole to turn to face him. Colton is wearing a very tight black tank top and a nice pair of black pants that hug his insanely massive tree trunks. He wastes no time in walking over and picking Dustin up in his arms before plunging his tongue down the bodybuilder’s throat. Jeff looks at them both in shock and wonders to himself if maybe he has been kept out of the loop on something for quite some time. Goodwin immediately undoes his pants and yanks his briefs and Dustin’s boxers off their bodies. Their hard cocks play hockey with each other as their mouths and hands go searching along the different curves and bumps on each other’s muscles. Jeff picks up his clothes and walks the other way without uttering a single word to either of them. Both Dustin and the coach come to the realization that they are never going to be apart again after this night is over. Dustin keeps his apartment after the summer ends with the help of Coach Goodwin, who is now contributing to his young lover’s training expenses as well as other things. Since he is no longer a student at the school, the coach doesn’t have to worry about anyone finding out about their past affair. Jeff never speaks to Dustin ever again after that night. He goes off to college in Australia on a rugby scholarship where he will start a new life without Dustin and whoever else he was close to in the last two years.
  6. At the start of the day Glenn was looking forward to gym, especially the locker room. He couldn’t wait to show off his new built body, then he found out that he was still considered ugly. But as he changed for gym he stood facing the jocks, his long thick cock on full display. Eugene was next to Glenn, with his back to the jock, his board toned back hunched to shield is ripped abs and heavy pecs from view. The jocks were strutting around like peacocks, their flabby guts and pigeon chests intimidating the hulking nerds. Glenn tried something as one of the jocks passed he sneered and flexed his chest, and for a split second he saw doubt in the jocks eyes, like something from the old world was seeking through, like he could remember that the big guys should be in charge. Glenn pondered the implications of this as he pulled on his gym kit, maybe he wouldn’t need to make any drastic changes, maybe he just needed to make a couple small changes and things would right themselves. ——————————————————————————————————— Eugene pulled his kit on, it was the only clothes he owned that hung loose over his overly built body. It was still tight around his arms and abundant pec shelf. The schools logo strained over his chest, the hem of the shirt swayed a couple inches away from his abs. Last gym class Kevin made a joke that he could camp under Eugene’s pec tent, another jock added that the rest of the football team could probably camp under the tent Eugene’s fat monster cock caused. He palmed his bulge, trying to make it a little less noticeable. Even with his junk safely strapped behind an industrial strength jock strap it was still obvious that Eugene was packing something truly monstrous. He followed Glenn out of the locker room and into the gym. Coach a sweaty 5 foot nothing blob of a man bounced a basketball in his hand. He kept dropping it though, his hands too small for the ball. The class lined up, the jocks at the front, the nerds at the back. This time no nerd was careless enough to line up at the front, it was always the same jokes about the weather, every time the same jokes about the weather. “Boys” Coach bellowed, his voice sounding like nails on a blackboard “Today we play basketball” He tossed the ball to Kevin, who smirked after almost dropping the ball. “You know the drill boys, shirts and skins” Coach shouted “We’re playing HUNK boys, one letter for each basket” Eugene followed the nerds to their end of the court, the jocks cheered and tossed their shirts to the side line. This was how most classes started every week, a little competition, Coach liked to torture the nerds and inflate the jocks egos. Most of the class would have to sit and watch, Eugene spotted Leon on the side line, sitting with Oscar. Oscar was like Leon the odd mix of nerd and jock, he was very tall, but very skinny, not a bit of muscle on him. Eugene thought he was cute, but he was in with the popular girls, he was the gay best friend, which made him untouchable for a nerd like Eugene even if they were the only ‘out’ boys in high school. Plus Oscar’s horrible dyed blond hair was a massive turn off. Eugene checked his team, all big, hulking nerds, they were fucked. Glenn was not where to be seen, he had always been right next to Eugene when these things happened, where was he. Coach’s whistle went and the jocks took over straight away. The ball passed between jock to jock, but every shot at the basket they made was effortlessly batted away by Henry the 6ft10 Asian nerd who’d taken control of defending the basket. Henry though made a mistake he caught the ball and tossed it at the jock’s basket, from the far end of the court the ball fell through the netting. “H” Coach shouted “But Henry take 10 laps, you know I don’t have that shit on my court, if you want to play you play fair, no height advantages” It was the same every gym class, no height advantages, no weight advantages, no muscle advantages. Coach had even made Jimmy run laps after his fat bulge had blocked a jock’s view when Jimmy pinned him in a wrestling match. The game started again with Eugene finding himself near the jocks basket, two jocks on their guard, they jumped around him, their flabby bellies bouncing like the basketball as it was dribbled down the court. “Eugene” Jimmy called as he tossed the ball away from the fray of jocks around him Eugene caught the ball with one hand, his fingers wrapped nearly around it. With a light flick of the wrist he sent the ball through the basket. “U” Coach shouted, he huffed, he couldn’t get Eugene on anything this time Eugene moved to the nerd’s basket, taking up the defence with the returned Henry, they were the tallest players on the court. He pulled at his shirt just to make sure the fabric hung low around his waist, he then pulled at his shorts, they rode up a little when he walked. He caught sight of Glenn standing at the edge of the non-playing students, his phone in his big hands, it was comical, why did they make phones so small when the all the tech heads had massive mitts for hands. Glenn saw Eugene and gave him a wink. “HEY” Coach screamed “What are you doing with your phone, get to running laps” Eugene sniggered as Glenn started his laps, he pulled at his shirt again, trying to get the hem a little lower. His hand grazed over the hem and then onto his deeply cut abs. He stopped, hadn’t his shirt covered him completely, he eyed the other nerds, their shirts were the same, unbelievably tight, with the hem just under their pecs, with sleeves bunched up around their shoulders. His mind went cloudy for a moment, then everything became clear. It had been a school rule for years, you could only wear Medium sized gym kit. “Eugene” Henry asked “You’re shorts are bunching up” Eugene blushed and he quickly sorted his shorts out, the legs were riding up and turning the shorts into briefs. His overgrown cock and muscle ass didn’t help. He thanked Henry, not noticing the tall Asian had been staring at Eugene’s ass the entire time. ——————————————————————————————————— Glenn typed up new changes as he ran his laps, he cursed his new long, thick fingers. He was having to rewrite every other word. The sudden tightness of his kit over his ass and chest told him the last change had worked. He had to admit the basketball match was a sight to behold, some of the biggest beefiest muscle Glenn had seen running around in skin tight tops and bulge hugging shorts, if he was gay he’d be living the dream. “N” Coach called as one nerd got another basket Glenn hurried his typing, it wouldn’t take long for the nerds to get the last letter, the jocks hadn’t even got one, they were playing horribly. Glenn sniggered, that was thanks to him, one quick change and the jocks couldn’t touch the ball without dropping it. He entered the changes and watched as Eugene sniffed the air, the urge to beat the jocks rising inside him already, this was the first step to righting Glenn’s mess, but it also pushed Eugene closer towards being the confident dominate stud his body demanded he be. Eugene palmed the ball as one jock tried to get it into the basket, he started dribbling it down the court, slipping between the jocks and his fellow nerds. His thick legs bent slightly and he sprang from the ground, the ball fell through the basket and Eugene swung for a second from the basket, his muscles flaring. He thudded onto the floor as Coach muttered K. Glenn stopped and watched the eyes of the entire class run over Eugene’s pumped torso, with one deep breath the shirt tore and burst. The pump was all Glenn’s doing, but the hulking out of his shirt was all natures fault. He grinned, Kevin’s cocky face was marked with confusion, no doubt, he was questioning why he was the alpha male when Eugene was such a beast. That was just what Glenn wanted, a seed of doubt. ——————————————————————————————————— After gym Glenn didn’t shower, he needed to head home quickly to prepare for the next lot of changes. Maybe he could find the old world saved on his home computer, he might not need to do any planning. He was about to take the side steps out of the gym when Jimmy came thundering down them. He was sweaty and just in his underwear, his tanned skin flushed and his muscles pumped. “What’s wrong man” Glenn asked, he was taller then Jimmy, but not as well cut “Kevin” Jimmy muttered “He said he had my clothes, got me to chase him, then started on me for doing so” “And he doesn’t have your clothes” Glenn added “His favourite joke” Glenn could hear Kevin’s slight footfalls getting closer. “Get behind me” Glenn ordered Jimmy quickly did as told, his big hands though trying to cover his modesty. Good luck, Glenn thought, that thing should be hanging in a deli. Kevin appeared at the top of the stairs, he was dressed in designer gear, all baggy on his skinny frame. He stepped down three of the stairs and came face to face with Glenn. Kevin went to speak, but Glenn laughed “You’re so fucking short” “What” Kevin spluttered “You heard me, you’re short” Glenn took a step up the stairs Kevin’s head level with Glenn’s chin. “And so fucking boney” Glenn took another step Kevin looked up at Glenn, there was still a couple steps between them. His eyes looked past Glenn’s lantern jaw, past his thick neck and right into the vast fabric plain that covered his pumped chest. Glenn bounced his pecs watching that seed of doubt grow a little bigger. He knew what Kevin was thinking, first Eugene and now Glenn, how could there be two nerds so superior to mega jock Kevin. Kevin turned and left without a word. “Come on man, lets get you dressed” Glenn led Jimmy back through the door and into the locker room “I’ll stand guard for you” The locker room was steamy from the showers and musky from the deep rich smell of a dozen hulking nerds and their sweaty muscles. But Glenn and Jimmy stopped at the door, there was moaning and the sound of wet flesh slapping together. Glenn with Jimmy close behind peeked into the showers. All they saw was Eugene’s toned back and his powerful ass thrusting. His black hair was plastered to his head and a pair of long skinny legs were wrapped tight around his waist. Just behind Eugene’s thick shoulders Glenn could see a very tall, very skinny guy, with a cute face, but terrible dyed blond hair. “Oscar” Glenn whisper in awe, with one small push from the Chronivac Eugene had gone from blushing virgin into a full blown fuck machine “Shit” Jimmy muttered “Never thought I’ll see a cock bigger then mine” Glenn sniggered, Eugene was making long strokes, fucking poor Oscar with every inch of his swollen monster. His furry bull nuts bouncing between his well muscled thighs. The two nerds were both straight but they couldn’t help but admire Eugene’s talent. “About time someone shut Oscar up” Jimmy chuckled Glenn smirked, he might not need to make any changes now, Eugene was doing all the work for him, Oscar was a terrible gossip and by tomorrow everyone will know that bigger is better. ——————————————————————————————————— Eugene returned home with a smile on his face, it felt good to lose his virginity, it hadn’t happened how he’d wanted it to happen. But when Oscar started bitching about how stupid Eugene had looked when he popped out of his shirt this feeling, this energy rose up inside Eugene. He kissed Oscar and then tore the skinny boys clothes off. He made sure Oscar regretted mocking Eugene, he made sure that Oscar wouldn’t walk right for a week. He almost tore the front door from its hinges when he pushed it open, it crashed against the wall and a picture popped off its nail and fell to the floor. He’d never lose control of his strength before, but this energy felt incredible. He felt, no he knew he could do anything. “Hey horse cock” Matt his brother greeted him with a smirk “Fuck off hamster dick” Eugene roared Matt blushed, the force of Eugene’s tone knocking him down a peg. It was weird, hamster dick was a thing of pride. Matt had always boasted about his little cock, but now it was something bad, having a big fat cock, like the one that Eugene had was the thing of pride now. Eugene thudded into the kitchen, and banged into a man, a much taller, much broader man. Which for someone of Eugene’s size meant that dad was home.
  7. “I knew you wouldn’t wear anything” Craig your buddy complained He and your other buddies were all dressed up in various superhero costumes. Craig having crammed his hefty girth into a Superman costume. You though wore normal clothes. Jeans, shirt and a cap. Your buddies were all very ready for this convention, you weren’t, it wasn’t really your thing. You’d have rather gone to the gaming expo last month, but it wouldn’t have been all that fun without your friends. So you’d submitted and brought a ticket for the comic book convention. “You know this isn’t my thing” You shrugged Craig tossed you a grey shirt as you passed through the door and entered the convention. “Good thing I brought a backup incase you didn’t do anything, go put that on” He ordered It was a simple grey shirt with a black bat emblem on it, a Batman shirt. You grunted in annoyance and left your friends. They had already faded into the crowds, with awe on their faces at the sight of the booths and stalls. You moved into the restrooms, you quickly ducked into one of the stalls. The toilets seat was down and you gingerly placed your cap and headphones onto it, your music still blaring out of them. You pulled your shirt off, unlike most of your friends you didn’t have much meat on your bones. But you were by no way athletic, just skin and bone. You gave the Batman shirt another quick look before pulling it on. The tag on the collar was of a make you didn’t recognise, there wasn’t even a DC logo on it. Just some plain logo of some mega corporation, FLD. The shirt was smooth to the touch and actually sat on you pretty well, even if it was a few sizes too big. The neck hole showed off your slim neck and the beginning of your boney chest. The short sleeves hung around your elbows even though they should be ending nearer to your shoulders. You pulled it down, its hem hovered somewhere just below your crotch. All in all it wasn’t a bad shirt, you’d actually keep it if Craig doesn’t mind you having it. You picked up your cap and headphones, and went to leave the stall, your old shirt in hand. But you stop, your heart suddenly racing. The shirt isn’t smooth and soft anymore, it is itchy, painfully itchy. As you try to remove the shirt you arms seize up, the sleeves of the shirt tightening. Your chest feels compressed as the shirt appears to shrink. You look down, your neck muscles fighting against your movements. The shirt isn’t shrinking, you’re growing. Your arms are throbbing, each heart beat meeting with each throb of your arm muscles. Each time your arms slowly grow, the sleeves of the shirt tight. Your chest isn’t being compressed, it is inflating, straining against the shirt. Pulling the batman symbol taunt over your pumped up pec shelf. The beat from your music matches that of your heart, your muscles matching it too. But as the music slows your muscles don’t. Your body is going beyond the size of the shirt, but your legs have already gone far beyond the size that your jeans can handle. They looked painted on, your ass hanging out like a shelf, your thighs pressing together. The itching subsides and your heart slows, you take a few deep breaths. Your pecs inflating and deflating, straining the shirt. The thick chords of muscle in your shoulders and arms are crammed in the stall, pressed up against the walls of it. You pull the door open, dropping your old shirt. Stepping on it with shoes that look full and at places beginning to split, like your feet are too big. You stand open mouthed in shock as you see yourself in the mirror. You’re immense, pure muscle having been poured into a shirt and jeans. As you go to get your phone out of a too tight back pocket your pecs bounce involuntary. You can feel the weight of them as they bounce. Both of your meaty nipples harden and you take the phone up and snap a few photos. A cocky smirk spreads over your strengthened jaw. You turn and leave the restroom, off to find your friends and thank Craig for the shirt.
  8. The car sped down the highway, Cliff and his friend Kurt bored in the back, the trees outside weren’t much to look at. Cliff was a rich kid and Kurt was the poor best-friend. Kurt rarely got vacations, so he jumped at the chance to spend spring break in the Hamptons with Cliff and his family. Cliff’s parents were cool with it, they encouraged Cliff to hang around with Kurt. They’d hoped it would bring him down to earth and get him to stop acting like a pompous rich kid. It worked at times, but Cliff was quick to rub new gadgets and new clothes into his poorer friend’s face. The two boys did get on though, and they were both playing the same multiplayer game on their smartphones. Kurt’s phone being a hand me down from Cliff. Cliff noticed that Kurt would drop out of the game sometimes and have a sudden burst of typing. Who was he texting, Cliff was just about to ask when his father butted it. “So Cliff” his dad asked “How’s the wrestling team going” Kurt on the wrestling team, that the most ridiculous thing Cliff had ever heard. He’s guys family could only afford horrible fattening food, so Kurt had ended up as a podgy fat ass. The lack of vitamins hadn’t helped him height wise either, he was barely average height for a high-school student. An amazingly rich and deep voice replied “Yea, got the championship and got my athletic scholarship all sorted” Cliff put down his phone and turned towards Kurt. A giant sat in his place, massive muscles strained his shirt, the biggest thighs Cliff had ever seen filled a pair of broad shorts to bursting. A humongous bulge was nestled between the heavy legs. Cliff noticed a thickly muscled arm running over the back seat, the huge hand at its end resting on Cliff’s shoulder. The now older looking, powerfully masculine face of Kurt smirked at him as Cliff’s father asked more questions. “Any chance of Cliff getting on the team” he asked Kurt shook his head, long black hair waving over his giant shoulders. “Cliff’s too small for the team” Kurt squeezed Cliff’s shoulder “There is a water boy position open” “What would be good, teach him some responsibility” his mother answered like Cliff wasn’t in the car “What would it entail” Kurt’s chest flexed, a small tear appearing at the collar of his shirt. “He’d have to give us water after matches, wash our towels, singlets and jock” Kurt smirked “He already does all of mine” At that Cliff clenched his teeth as a sudden headache shot through his forehead. A new memory formed Kurt having come over to Cliff’s house after a match one day. Kurt in the shower while Cliff washed his dirty clothes. Then Kurt catching Cliff as he sucked the sweat out of Kurt’s stretched jockstrap. “I’m sure he would love to help” Cliff’s father said from the front The talking stopped for a while. Cliff watched Kurt typing on this phone, his now huge hands struggling to hit the right buttons. Cliff’s stomach growled, Kurt turned his head at the sound a wide smile on his face. “You hungry” his mother asked A deep hunger roared in Cliff’s belly. “Well…there no restaurants for a while” his father announced “Kurt can you handle it” Kurt chuckled and lifted his tight ass off the seat, his huge hands hooked under the waist band of his shorts and he pulled then down to his giant clown feet. A fat swollen dick bobbed upwards, the apple sized head already leaking pre. Big bull balls rolled in their furry sack, heavy with a large load. Kurt’s hand wrapped around Cliff’s head and pulled him down towards the dick. His mouth flopped open and Kurt forced his immense horse cock down Cliff’s throat. He held Cliff’s hair and pumped his head up and down the giant dick. Cliff’s parents continued like nothing was happening, while Kurt’s deep voice moaned loudly. Cliff lost track of time, but found himself really getting into milking the dick halfway down his gullet. His hands squeezing the bull balls and his tongue licking every inch of the monster cock. Then Kurt came, a mass of thick volleys overflowing Cliff’s stuffed mouth. Each one rocketing down into Cliff’s hungry guts. Kurt popped Cliff off the dick and the rich boy thudded back into his seat. He patted his stomach, the growling had stopped. “Better” his mother asked Cliff nodded. “Thank you Kurt” this father smiled “It’s hard raising a cum slut” Kurt chuckled “It’s cool, I’m happy to feed Cliff’s addiction” Cliff heard the clicking of Kurt’s phone. Then the hungry returned, Kurt smirked. “You want more” he asked already pulling Cliff down to the still hard dick Cliff nodded and engulfed the monster cock down his throat again. His father offered “Cliff might as well stay on your dick till we get to the house” Kurt laughed “Yea, what is it….like two, three hours before we get there” “Yes, about three hours” his mother answered “I can keep pumping out cum till then” Kurt sniggered as Cliff gagged
  9. (Originally posted on my Tumblr) Comparing I never understood why my lifting partner had such a complete obsession with being bigger than me. He always tried to put a few extra weights on when we were lifting together. He wore weird shoes with thick soles so he could be just an inch taller than me. And he always felt the need to comment how much more of a ‘man’ he was, even though the difference between us was minimal. And, if anything, I was pretty sure I beat him in almost every regard. I was stronger, and bigger, yet he insisted that he was the man between us two. It irritated me to no end, and his latest obsession was about my dick. I was pretty hung, and when you shower together after hitting the gym for a few years my lifting partner was bound to find out. Recently however he had been 'joking’ about how I supposedly only was a 'shower’ and that, if he got hard, my far below average lifting buddy would really outgrow me. And if anyone should know I was very well endowed it should have been him. Wasn’t it the girl he had a crush on I ‘accidentally’ send a pic of, being penetrated by my fully hard battering ram? That had really pissed him off a while ago, I assumed he had been looking at my 8 incher as well when he jerked off to her in that pic. At first I just brushed it off, my 8 inches of heat had never disappointed anyone, so I tried to not let it bother me. But something about him repeating it, every, single, day, really got to me. So after the third joke that day at the expense of my beautiful cock I just told him: “Fine, we’ll hold a little dick measuring contest, if that will shut you up.” It did, he looked at me with slight unease. I was going to love wiping of that smirk from his face. And so I came to sit in my private backyard with my dick in one hand and an old playboy in the other. My lifting buddy, looking rather anxious now, with the ruler opposite of me. My cock never needed that much encouragement. It got hard easy and stayed that way as long as I wanted, and soon pre started leaking out of my cock head. It was a little over 8 inches and hard as steel. I looked over my to spotter, who also looked about as hard as he would get, and still not much larger than 4 inches. I raised my eyebrow at my spotter. “Think measuring is a little redundant, no?” I asked, wiggling my cock around in my hand. “No man, you’ll see, just measure your one first, I’ll really get hard in a minute.” I thought he looked at my cock with just a little too much excitement. Of course he was just a fucking fag, who wanted to see my massive cock, I knew it. Even more pathetic was that he couldn’t even admit he had lost when the it was swinging in front of his face. But if it would shut him up… I grabbed the ruler, doing my best job with the tools available. “8.2 Inches” I exclaimed triumphantly. “Come on man, you expect me to believe that?” Of course I did, because he had been looking at me while I had measured. I sighed. I really wanted to get this over with. “Want me to measure again?” He nodded, the assured expression that was now plastered on his face making me slightly uneasy. I put ruler next to my cock again, my mind not really processing the results when I read them out loud. “6.1 Inches.” I said. I wanted to scream that wasn’t right but… I felt a headache pass through as slowly my memories seemed to become less clear. I packed eight inches of heat, right? My memories seemed now to disagree. Encounters with hot chicks who had noticed my bulge fading into nothingness, and being replaced with more average sex with a more average dick. Yeah, I had nothing to be ashamed off, six inches still got the deal done, most of the time, and it was well above average. I scratched my head, wondering where I had gotten the idea I had some massive cock down my trousers. I looked over at my spotting partner, who’s cock indeed seemed to have gotten larger when I was busy measuring. He looked to pack around six inches too now, looking just a centimeter or two smaller than me. I wanted to hand him the ruler so we could get this over with, still confident I was going to win this, but he just shook his head. “Nah man, I’m still not fully hard.” His self-assured expression turned a little more wicked. “Besides, little man, 6.1 inches seems way too large for your tiny dick, measure it again.” The confident me, who would have told that fairy to get out of his house and to ogle dicks elsewhere, seemed weirdly unavailable. So I just grabbed the ruler again, and placed it next to my dick. “2 Inches” I admitted meekly, reading the results from the ruler. New memories flooded my mind. Girls being disappointed the hot bod came with so little cock. Embarrassing moments in the shower where I had to cover up my little penis. Years of humiliation for my tiny endowment were now ever-present in my memory, of course I wasn’t average, I was pathetic. My lifting partner smiled, stroking his massive cock with a smile like it was the first time he was holding his legendary fuck stick. I could always see his massive bulge through his gym shorts, it’s contents bouncing happily when we did cardio together. Girls biting their lips whenever they spotted his manly manhood through his trousers. The showers falling silent when he walked in, with that log swinging between his legs. “Give me the ruler, buddy, this is about as hard as I’m gonna get.” I handed him the ruler, but his cock extended just a little further than the ten inches it was equipped to measure. “Well, my cock is somewhere over ten inches then I guess. I think we can say I won, right?” I nodded, not even sure why I had called the dick measuring contest in the first place. Well, I did know, to see his mouth-watering sized cock hard in the flesh of course, all those videos of him jerking off online just weren’t enough for me anymore. I smiled, slapping my lifting partner on the back. “At least I still got the bigger muscles.” I said, playfully. My spotter’s expression turned sour, his face turning dark as he mumbled some words in a weird sounding foreign language. I felt dizzy for a moment, before refining my footings. I slapped him on his ass again, the bulging glutes shaking pleasantly in my frail and bony arm. His handsome face having a very satisfied expression on his thick neck, as he guided my mouth to his jaw breaking cock. I couldn’t believe that I had the honor of being able to worship my buddy, the international fitness icon before he went to the gym. His 8-pack glistened in the sun of his private outdoor yard, his muscles seeming just as bulging and massive as usual. He always asked me join him when he went to the gym to train that massive body of his, but I always respectfully declined. My slender frame had no place in a gym, I could train my bubble butt at home. Before taking his gigantic member in my mouth, and letting him use me like the cum rag I am, I managed to muffle out: “Funny how we’re the same height, ain’t it? Guess even you have stay stuck at 5′11.” He just smiled while shoving his enormous shaft down my throat, the sound of some weird foreign words he was mumbling drowned out by my puny body moaning.
  10. “I’m on my way” *Your buddy replies to your text with a picture of his huge muscled arm wrapped around a girl way out of his league* “Fuck dude, that music did a real number on you” “I’ve gotta be like a good foot taller” “Heads nearly hitting the ceiling of the train” “I’ll be like 10 mins, don’t claim every girl before I get their man” *You continue to liken to the music, its melody refining your body* “Oh, good idea getting bigger shoes, my feet would of burst out of my old size 11s ages ago” “Though ain’t there meant to be mental changes” *Your buddy reads the messages but doesn’t reply to them* “Like confidence, I’m the size of a house but I’m still so fucking timid” “Should of worn a sleeveless shirt, but I don’t have the heart too” “I’m even covering my crotch…. and I really shouldn’t” “It’s like I’ve stuffed a fucking melon in there… well an apple and some large oranges Lol” *You grin at your own text and slowly move your coat away from your crotch, giving the entire train a good view* “Scratch that, the mental stuff just kicked in :P” “You should probably stop drinking those” *Your buddy takes another slurp from the glass* “They said you could only have one, because you could only afford one” “I don’t think they thought anyone would spend their college fund on five” *He slurps again, his shorts straining against his thighs and ass* “Your getting too big, no ones gonna recognise…..” *Suddenly your mute as his shorts burst into pieces and he’s nude on the very public beach* “Wait here” *He’s blushing and trying to hide his inflated cock while still drinking from the glass and only getting larger* “I’ll get you some new shorts…. and I’ll get myself one of those drinks”
  11. Harry and Zeke weren’t anything special, both spotty DnD nerds. Both were short, Harry only just breaking into average height. Both were skinny, but Zeke had a quite visible gut. It wouldn’t be odd to think they were related, both sharing a similar coloring, both with pale greasy skin, dark muddy eyes and oil slick black hair. They were best friends and were inseparable, so when Zeke decided to dye his hair blonde, Harry decided to do the same. They went together to get the dye, both young men having a grocery list of allergies. The local store didn’t have anything they could use without suffering itchy scalds or blisters. So they went the new super store just outside of town, it was eerily empty. Only a few staff populated the spacious store, all of them tall well built men. The greeter was too busy focusing on his swollen bicep as he waved at the front entrance to actually greet the two friends. They found the dye easy enough, there was rows and rows of the stuff, every colour under the sun. Red, with some kilt wearing muscled hunk on the box. Black, with an olive skinned gardener with a shovel thrown over his meaty shoulders on the box. Zeke was busy looking at a light blue dye with some muscle bound asian anime boy on the box when Harry found the blonde. “No blue, we decided on blonde” Harry said waving the surfer dude clad box at Zeke His friend sighed and they left to pay. The cashier was a hulking red head, staring down at his heaving chest the entire time the two friends were paying for the dye. He gave a dull and dumb ‘cya’ when they left, his eyes focused on his bouncing pecs. Neither of them mentioned how odd and empty the super store was they drove home, Zeke at the wheel and Harry reading the surprisingly simple instructions. When got back to the small apartment the two men shared Harry was quick to get what they needed, mostly just towels. It didn’t take long for them to get the dye in their hair. They’d expected to have to bleach their black hair a couple times to lighten it enough for the dye to take, but they didn’t. It was one time wash and it claimed it would make them sun kissed blondes. Zeke noticed the throbbing first, his scalp starting to feel like it was swelling. By the time Harry started to feel the throbbing Zeke had his head under running water in the bathroom. Zeke’s hair was now a golden blond, and the skin running down his neck was darkening with a light tan. Harry was busy scratching at his own skin, from his neck and now down his back a deep itch and throbbing was spreading. The friends were experiencing the same thing, skin tanning and flesh throbbing. Soon their entire bodies felt itch and uncomfortable, as it their clothes weren’t fitting correctly. Zeke when he lifted his head out from the sink nearly screamed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was blonde, as expected, but he was huge. He was thick and muscled, his gut was gone and his shirt was pulled tight over rows of abdominals. Zeke’s shoulders and arms were straining the seams of the shirt and he was far taller than he’d been before. His face had completely changed, his weak jaw was squared off and effortlessly masculine. Zeke struggled to walk out of the bathroom, his jeans strangling his nearly tree trunk thick thighs. Harry had suffered a similar change, he was blond now too, and like Zeke was just as thickly built. His clothes skin tight and threatening to burst, Zeke while still shocked was happy to find he was now taller than Harry. “I guess… something was off with this dye” Zeke asked, his voice deeper Harry was holding the dye box, both friends realizing they looked a lot like the blonde surfer dude on the box. Not identical, but a variation of the guy. The idea that these guys could be related still held true, they continued to share the same coloring. Now just tanned, blonde and blue eyed. “So… what do we do” Zeke asked, Harry still reading the dye both “Well, it says 6months of use, use same brand dye removal for quick return to previous form and colour” Harry recited from the box “Form… and colour” Zeke mused “So they knew it would do this” he gestured to his pecs which threatened to pop the collar button of his shirt “Yea I think they knew, I bet this…” Harry waved the box “Is why all the guys at that store was super hot” “Maybe everything at that store did stuff….” Zeke wondered “Maybe we should go back” Harry checked the clock, it was getting late “No it would be closed now… how about we hit a club” Harry was already taking off his shirt, his wide pecs and solid abs coming into view. He was looking for something more club worth that fit him. Zeke smiled, liking the idea, and doing the same. The night the two friends had was one for the ages. They couldn’t really remember it, but the social media photos showed the two blonde studs having a good night. Neither woke up in their own bed, and neither returned home for days, fucking their way through every one who’d take them, and a lot of people were willing to take the hunky blondes. It was nearly a month before either of them decided to go back to the super store to stock up on years worth of the dye, and even get some different colour to try out.
  12. The resort had a certain style, that style being Mediterranean architecture, palm trees, golden sands and dark haired men with tanned chiseled bodies. I flew out to the resort with a couple friends, the second we landed I lost track of them. I got pushed into a limo by a perfect dark haired man, who started plying me with alcohol. I’d barely got his shirt off before we arrived at the resort. Another dark haired man took my bags as I checked in, then I was shown to my suite. I changed out of my groggy airplane clothes and into something more fitting of the blistering heat. I still hadn’t seen my friends. I left my suite and headed out into the paved area around one of the resort’s many pools. Three dark haired men introduced themselves, Angel, Bruno and Caleb, or A,B and C. I knew who they were, they were my personal companions. The resort offered a lot of extras for those who could pay. I still hand’t seen my friends. The rest of the week was a blur, just fuck after fuck. I was sure I’d been dosed with some sort of super viagra, I remembered the resort’s term and conditions mentioning something about ‘supplements’. Angel was the slut of the three, he was constantly begging for sex, he’d slip under the table at dinner and suck my dick. Bruno was the romantic, he’d sneak a kiss, whisper nice things, have me pin him against a wall and fuck his ass till he screamed. Caleb was the ‘reluctant’ one, he was so shy and introverted, waiting for the others to fuck themselves to exhaustion before having me pound his ass half a dozen times. I still hadn’t seen my friends. I met a very interesting guy, he’d been coming to the resort since it opened over a decade ago. We talked for a while, each of us with one of our companions massaging our feet. The others were in the pool wrestling for our amusement. He told me about the Template, it was the standard that all the dark haired guys were held up too. He explained it was why they all looked the same, which they did. All of them with dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin and ripped bodies. He then told me I was wrong, he meant that when the resort opened all the companions were identical, the same face, the same body. The Template created the companions from other people. Guests who didn’t pay the full way, guests like my friends. Over the years the Template had added slight variations, small little quirks which changed the companions in slight ways. Which must be why Angel’s abs are deeper cut, or why Bruno’s ass is a bit plumper and perkier, or why Caleb is a few inches shorter than the other two. I guess the Template meant I had been seeing my friends all week.
  13. Anonymous Asked: Very funny dude. My little brother has fallen for this shit hook, line and sinker. The dorky doofus totally thinks that any day now he's going to be transformed into some kind of muscle-head warrior and whip my ass! Ha! Would love it if you replied to his ask with a story of him getting even scrawnier!!! Would pay good money to see that - humiliate the little twerp for good. I’m not going to reply to his ask, I’m going to reply to yours. Now I was considering whether to agree to your request, but then you don’t believe in any of this and your brother does…. plus he’s a fan and you’re not. So I’m actually going to give your brother what he wants…. and I couldn’t even answer his message if I wanted too, because it looks like the changes have taken hold and the new him would never send such a message to me, let alone read my stuff. As you can see your little brother is not very little anymore…. the guy is a muscle-head warrior like you said. Though I imagine you wished you hadn’t said that, the word warrior has made his change a little too aggressive. Not that it’s done him any trouble, all those boxing trophies in his room, which used to be your room, tell a story of a man with a punch that could put a guy through a wall. And he’s done that…. your former best friend who he caught sniffing his XXL jockstrap can testify to that, and he did…. though the case was throw out. But like I was saying I have gifted your brother with more than he asked for. He asked for the normal check list of stuff. Tall- Check Muscles- Check Handsome- Check Big Dick- Check What he didn’t ask for was a voice that give any guy lower in the food chain than him an instant erection…. which is pretty much everyone. He also didn’t ask for a near sadistic love of fucking into sexual oblivion any girl who gets close to you. I also threw in big feet, peak physical health and sexual stamina of a purebred stallion, teenagers always forget to ask for the best things. Now we come to you….. if I’d answered his ask then you’d most likely have ended up with some improvements. Easiest way to change someone without anyone noticing is to change their genetics, which would mean changing their parents, so you’d have ended up as his equal. The older muscle bro to show a young hung beast how to rule the world. Because when he said he wanted to whip your ass…. I think he meant in wrestling or in football….. not the insanely brutal beatings he’ll dish out to you now. But you asked for him to end up scrawnier, so that’s your fate now. Enjoy being a runt for the rest of your life….. Anonymous Asked: Yo bro, did you help my former buddy turn me into this. I mean I love my body, check out the gains, but bro the tank and compression gear ain't right for my classes. So I want revenge, curse my buddy to be a professional heavyweight bodybuilder, I want him working out nonstop, no sex, no beer, early nights and fucking chicken breast for every meal haha but let me him keep his brain, wanna see him squirm. This is gonna be so freakin funny bro Yea that might have been me who changed you….. guys gotta eat and granting wishes and supplying revenge pays so well. You’re not Herbert the Maths Whizz are you?? Cause sorry about draining that amazing brain of yours. Hope the big dick makes up for it. But back to your buddy, yea I’ll give him the body you want for him. Plus with all the hard work it takes to have a body like that. All the trouble and none of the fun, unlike what he got for you. I have gotta say he’s an inspiration for the fitness freaks out there, the guy is a lifting machine. Such sacrifice for beauty, sad that he hates it. Same nerdy guy stuck inside that brute of a body, trapped forever in the body of a Greek god. Plus a peanut cock just because I’m feeling extra mean today. Anonymous Asked: Could you do a Truman show type transformation where I wake up to being transformed into a hunk and as I get used to my new life I'm unknowingly having my life broadcast on TV? Awwwww you think you’ve only just ended up on TV, the world has been enjoying your life for years. We have all been watching you grow up into an awkward nerdy runt only to suddenly grow into a rampaging muscle stud over the course of one night. I made a killing betting that your change in weight would break your bed, lost money betting you’d be a redhead. Most of the audience jumped ship to see how the new young guy deals with childhood and his teenager years, I hate spin off shows. But a few fans have stayed to watch what you get up to now you're a sex machine, the show has changed its tone a lot. The producers keep throwing you into situations where you need to take your shirt off, or pull your beer can fat dick out. You have made us who still watch very happy, always flexing, and even though you have no clue you somehow always flex directly at camera.
  14. It was happening again, Jimmy could feel it. A pulling feeling deep in his guts, a throbbing that run up his spine. It was his time of the month again, but it couldn’t be, it was too soon. Since puberty started Jimmy would have these really strange male periods, for a couple minutes for one day a month Jimmy couldn’t be around any other men because they would change. Jimmy was at a friends house staying over to play video games for one last time before they went to college. So the second Jimmy felt the pressure building inside him he made an excuse and went to hide in the bathroom. He’d only be gone a couple minutes, not long enough for anyone to notice. Jimmy didn’t want his friend Tim to end up like the others who’d been around Jimmy during his time of the month. It had happened a few times, the first victims being his dad and older brother. They didn’t see themselves as victims, but then they didn’t even realize anything had changed. The first time it happened Jimmy hardly knew what was happening, but he put the feeling of pressure and the sudden massive muscle growth together. All Jimmy did was look at his dad and brother and with a flash of light two hulking hairy studs had replaced them. And no one saw any difference, it was like they had always been hunks. But Jimmy worked out the rules of this power very quickly, it would only change men, it happened once a month and he couldn’t change himself. He’d worked the last rule out after several tries of just sitting in front of a mirror. But Jimmy was a little suspicious that he’d changed a little. Somehow whatever he wore showed off his plump butt, even clothes that were several sizes to big became tight when he pulled them on. Which for a straight guy who turned other guys into hulking horny gods once a month was bad. This was why he was so desperate to control his power, he didn’t want to get fucked again like last time when he changed the mailman. So Jimmy could only sigh when he opened the bathroom door and found Tim’s dad Keith lounging in the bath with a book in hand. “Hey Jimmy” Keith greeted in surprise “There’s another bathroom downstairs….” he started but the flash of light silenced him Instead of the soft 40 something man that Keith had been a bulky tanned much younger hunk sat in his place. Jimmy felt the throbbing in his spine move down to his ass. Keith grinned and gave his pecs a bounce before rising out of the water. Jimmy looked straight into the soft fat cock and swollen balls that slowly started to swell. “Come on little guy, you’ve been asking for this for years” Keith explained as he still dripping with water led Jimmy out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom Jimmy didn’t fight it, his body wanted it, but his mind never did. After the first couple of incidents he decided just to let it happen. Keith pulled Jimmy onto the bed, his heavy wet body soaking through Jimmy’s clothes. Keith tore Jimmy’s shorts off with his big hands and flipped the boy around. Jimmy’s face pressed against Keith’s rock hard cock and instinctively started to swallow it down. Keith’s long tongue delved between Jimmy’s peachy cheeks and found his tight hole. They weren’t at it for long before Tim appeared in the doorway. He and Jimmy were the same age, but Tim looked much more adult than Jimmy. His power having held Jimmy back a bit, probably so he couldn’t fight off the big hunks he created. Tim was only able to get out a gasp as Keith’s cock popped out of Jimmy’s mouth and Jimmy looked at Tim. There was a flash and Tim was replaced by a man bigger, beefier and much better hung than his father. Keith didn’t care that his son was in the room, only Jimmy’s ass mattered. “Nice one dad” Tim boomed “Wanted to fuck the little slut for ages” Big Tim thudded over to Jimmy and grabbed a handful of his hair. Jimmy’s jaw dropped open hoping it was wide enough for his friends giant monster cock. As Jimmy was taken at either end by the big father and son duel the pressure in his guts stopped and it would be a whole month before it came back.
  15. “It doesn’t look bigger to you” Jim asked pulling back the elastic of his briefs “No, not at all” Sam lied, he crossed his legs to hide his boner “Really” Jim asked with disbelief “None of my pants fit properly anymore” Sam just shrugged, crossing his legs again to trap his boner. Jim cupped his swollen cheeks in his hands and jiggled them. Each cheek was rounded and meaty, straining against his briefs which were already sizes too small. “Their so sensitive” he moaned Sam’s hand slid down to his crotch, cupping his balls and trying to hold his cock down. His eyes glued to the meaty buttocks of his buddy. “It has to be this tramp stamp” Jim mused, a finger running over the freshly healed tattoo “Must be an allergic reaction or something” Sam offered, knowing full well what was happening, he had sent Jim to ‘his’ tattooist after all He’d even gonna a little money off his buddy for sending him a new client. He’d even be able to give a suggestion about what sort of effect the tattoo should have on Jim. “Plus I’m feeling really…..excitable all the time” Jim added a hand slipping between his cheeks Jim was appearing more energetic, which he’d find out was actually horniness. But he was also becoming more playful and touch friendly, a sign of his inhibitions fading away. He’d be on his knees sucking dick within a week. “Give it a few days and see how you feel” Sam smiled, biting his lip Jim nodded and headed out the room, his bulging butt bouncing and swaying with each step.
  16. Trent looked his friend Marshal up and down. Gone was the lean swimmer who’d slipped into the tanning bed over an hour ago, now a wall of thick muscle stared back at him with dull hollow eyes. “Marshal you ok” Trent asked Marshal just bounced his pecs and chuckled as he looked down at his heavy chest. “Yea, I’m good bro” Marshal laughed in a surprising deep voice Trent gulped, Marshal had never said ‘bro’ in all the time he’d known him. He’d overdosed Trent thought. Trent had brought Marshal to the Tanning Shop, he was one of the short list who knew that the tanning beds here did more then just tan your skin. After a short session in the bed the user would crawl out with tanned skin, but also slimmer, healthier, better looking and even a little bit taller. Trent sighed, he should of checked on Marshal. Trent though had been too busy flirting with the hot receptionist to notice that Marshal had been inside the bed for three times longer then he should of been. Trent shook his head “Sorry man, but this isn’t good” Marshal just stared blankly at Trent, his head cocked to one side. He was confused Trent thought, but then he was probably going to be confused all the time now, too much time in the beds would cook your brain. “Overuse can lead to permanent damage” Trent explained “I warned you beforehand” Marshal laughed again and brought his arms up. His rounded biceps bulged and he gave his abs a flex to finish off the pose. “This isn’t damaged” Marshal laughed again Trent nodded, Marshal was certainly a sight now. “But what will people say, you’re like three or four inches taller” Trent offered Marshal smirked “Not to mention a beast” he bounced his pecs again Trent nodded again, Marshal was certainly a beast now. “No one noticed you’d changed… you explained it once” Marshal added He was scratching his head under his cap, his head must be hurting from using such big words like ‘noticed’ and ‘explained’. “Yea, a healthy glow” Trent offered “They just see the tan, not the couple pounds of muscle or the inch in height the bed gave you” Marshal nodded, then just waited for Trent to continue. He really was dumb now, Trent almost felt sorry for the idiot who’d stayed in the magical tanning bed for nearly two hours. Trent pondered out loud for a moment “Well… I could do another 30 minutes without any permanent damage, just exterior changes” He stepped passed Marshal and climbed into the bed, flicked the switch to turn it on. As it closed he saw Marshal mouthing the word exterior to himself, trying to work out the meaning.
  17. I was asked to post some of my older stories recently and am obliging by providing the ones I (a) still have on file and (b) were specifically requested. This was the original Blood Brothers story (Books 1 and 2) I posted many years ago on the old site. There is the beginnings of a Book 3 but I was gearing it up to be a Dark Tower of sorts by drawing together all of my other stories. For those who have patiently read the 100,000+ words I have posted in this genre over the years, you'd notice they all take place in the same universe, often referencing each other in some form. That became much too large an undertaking for the tastes of this site (as I started spending time on character development and plot vice muscle growth). Anyway, I haven't edited the story below since originally posting it so my apologies if it comes across as amateur...I was, after all, in my early twenties when I first jotted it down... CHAPTER 1 The first thing I saw was Casey’s hat fly into his own lunch. Then I heard laughter; not the friendly kind. Casey’s head was completely bald. He didn’t even have eyebrows. Apparently that was funny to the two fifth graders standing behind us in the cafeteria. There was no confrontation; the two abusers just went along their way. When I turned back to Casey, his normally pale face was a deep red and I could see the swelling purple veins at his temple. He said nothing, simply swallowed what he was already chewing before he took his soggy and corn-covered baseball cap out off his tray and began a mostly vain effort to clean if off with a napkin. I didn’t know what went on in his head and years later I would still think back to that moment, wondering why I did nothing about it. There were other moments I saw him tormented, I’m sure, but they have since faded into the glass haze of the past. Those few seconds, however, were somehow chosen by my brain to represent all the bullying and indifference a child went through when he was dying of leukemia. “He’s very sick” my mother told me months earlier when I complained that Casey wasn’t playing mini-mite football with me that season. I put the pads on my shoulder and fastened them while my mom held the practice jersey. “When will he get better,” I had asked. My mother looked at me with an expression I would later register as both adoring and sad. I didn’t know then how close Casey came to dying that fall. I knew what leukemia was but only in those partial truths which populated the world of a nine year old boy. It made you tired, it made you pale, and it made you lose your hair. But, like any cold or flu, I assumed you woke up one morning feeling better. “Hopefully soon,” she said in reply then put my jersey on the bed next to me and walked away. Casey and I had been friends since birth, a result of a close friendship our respective mothers had shared since they were in college. We were both active kids and my memory is speckled with bike rides through clay gorges and romps through tangled woods that our mothers would condemn and our fathers would applaud. I was always a little faster, a little taller. We were always on the same teams when we got old enough to start the annual round-robin of sports a kid is encouraged to play. Flag (then tackle) football in the fall; baseball in the spring; soccer in the summer. Juvenile athletics seemed specifically geared to ensure a snotty-nosed brat was exhausted by nightfall. The fact that their parents had the rare chance to communicate with an adult other than their spouse seemed to be a nice touch as well. Nine year olds base their reality on a limited and narrow history, and that history told me that Casey should be carpooling to practice today. It wasn’t until his hair began to fall out and he started feeling tired all the time that the seriousness of the situation began to register. Another sharp memory from that time put Casey and I in the backyard while our mothers sat on the back porch. I remember Jeannine, Casey’s mom, starting to cry and was quickly mimicked by my mother. Very few things affect a child stronger than seeing their mother cry. It diminishes their invincibility. A flash of anger swept through my body as I tried to listen to why my friend’s mom was making mine upset. “Casey,” I said sternly as I caught a word in their conversation. “What does terminal mean?” Casey stopped what he was doing and looked up at me from beneath a bare brow and scalp. There was a sly twinkle in his eye that later made me wonder what he knew of his future. “It means I’m getting on a train,” he said with a smile. I took it at face value. On the way home my mother told me they were taking Casey to a special clinic in Jacksonville. It didn’t go over well. I don’t remember much about the weeks leading up to his move but I remember him saying “see ya later” as he walked into his parents’ house on the way home from school. There was no cliché wave through the window from the back of the minivan as I chased his car down the street. Just a “see ya later” we weren’t sure was true. I lost contact with Casey but my mom would give me periodic updates she garnered from his mom. He was going through some very experimental chemotherapy on his blood. Neither of us knew much of what that entailed or meant but it didn’t sound like Casey and his family knew either. “But what’s important is that he’s alive,” she said cheerfully a few months after he left, which was the summer after fourth grade. A few months later my mom came in with a huge smile on her face. “He’s cured,” she said excitedly. I felt profound relief but could only ask when he was coming home. Her face dropped slightly before saying, “They’re going to keep him at Mayo for some tests. He didn’t respond to the tests exactly as expected.” “What does that mean?” I asked. She never answered. I’m pretty sure she didn’t know. My life moved on. Fifth grade started and ended. I went through middle school and grew into a young adult. At some point I realized I was athletic and got really into sports. At another point I realized I was good looking and got really into girls. It was the summer before ninth grade that I started lifting weights and was excited how well my body took to them. After a few months of using my dad’s basement equipment I developed a nice little six pack and had a nice bounce to my pecs. Little did I know then that it took more than pushups, and sit-ups, and some curls to go through a full body workout. But when your body comes from nothing, it responds to everything. By the time I started ninth grade, I was a mid-level stud. Nothing too special but I had a good enough mix of looks, athletics, and social stamina to made me popular enough. I played freshman football and learned what real weight training was like. The defensive coordinator, Coach Rodriguez (or Coach Rod) saw my interest in weights and took me under his wing. The team called him Coach Roid behind his back in part because of his sporadic tendency to go ballistic on a player doing something he considered brainless and also because he was 250 pounds of iron-hard muscle. “Just wait until football season is over, boy,” he said with a mischievous grin. “That’s when the real training begins.” I was excited and I looked forward to the beginning of the spring semester like it was Christmas. That didn’t mean I was stagnant through the first half of my freshman year. That first semester of high school I went from 140 to 150 and kept that six pack I was so proud of. One afternoon in mid-December, I came home after school and opened the door to find my mom sitting with Jeanette at the kitchen table. The two of them stopped their conversation and both turned to me. “Oh my, how you’ve grown,” Jeanette said with a wide smile. She got up and went over to hug me; I returned the favor. “Why you’re as tall as me now and it looks like you’ve been getting some exercise in too.” I was suddenly very conscious of the too tight shirt I was wearing. I liked the stares it got in high school hallways but it was kind of embarrassing when family and other adults noticed. “Casey will be going to school with you next semester. You think you could show him around? It’s been so long since he’s been here.” A flood of questions wanted to erupt from my mouth but seemed to be jammed in my throat. “Sure” was all that could escape. “Great,” she said and I suddenly noticed touch of sadness entering her eyes, and something else. The woman was exhausted. “He’ll be so glad to hear that. Maybe he could come by tomorrow?” I nodded, unsure why I was having trouble speaking. She nodded back and looked to my mom. “Well, Debra, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. It’s so good to see you again.” My mom said something similar and led her out. Once the two of them were alone, she came to the living room where I was sitting on the couch flipping channels. “Kind of a lot to take in, huh?” she said at my back. I shrugged in the way which infuriates adults trying to get information from their children. “I guess so,” I said back, not turning around. Mom sighed, forever patient, and sat next to me, then took the remote from my hand and turned off the TV. “We need to talk about Casey, sweetheart.” I turned, eyebrows raised. She took it as acquiescence. “He’s still very weak,” she said sadly. “Whatever they did to him cured his cancer but has severely limited his strength and endurance. It sounds like he really needs a friend right now. I’m hoping you could be that friend.” I thought of the hat being knocked off Casey’s head and into his lunch; how I had done nothing while my friend’s emotions boiled. Something inside of me resisted getting to know Casey again; I had a life and was really enjoying it. Did I want a sickly former friend fallowing me around? The shock that cold final thought sent through me forced the words out of my mouth. “Of course.” Our parents wasted no time: the doorbell rang the following afternoon. I was working out in the basement, dressed in a ribbed tank top and gym shorts. Standing on the other side of the door as I opened it was Casey. I recognized his face immediately but that was pretty much it. Although I knew Casey for eight years before he got sick, I remembered him only the way he looked those last six months. His dark blond hair had returned and he wore it like a mop on his head. What I remembered as grey eyes were now blue. He was also tall, taller than me I was surprised to find out. He’d always been the shorter between us, if not by much. He was slim but not sickly as I’d imagined. He actually looked healthy. “Hey, man,” he said with a forced half grin. His voice was deep. I for some reason expected the same nine year old voice.. “Hey,” I said back. We both stood there for a moment, shuffling feet. Then Casey said something that probably set the rest of their lives on the path it did. “Nothing like having our moms set us up like we were going on a date, huh?” I laughed genuinely and suddenly felt like everything was back to a normal too long ago to remember clearly. “I know. My mom acted like she was asking me to take the ugly girl to the prom.” The other side of Casey’s mouth finally completed the smile. “Awe, at least she’d put out,” he said, neither one of them really knowing exactly what that meant. “Come in,” I said, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there. “You working out?” he asked, his eyes shining. I looked down, realizing the colder air of the first floor had covered me in sweat. “Yeah,” I said. “Football season just ended and I’m trying to pack on some weight for next year.” “Still play football?” he asked, genuinely interested. I nodded as he followed me down the stairs to the basement. “Yeah, they want to send me to varsity next year so Coach Rod says I need to be at least 170 when the season starts.” We made it to my dungeon of a basement. My dad’s “gym” consisted of a weight bench, a bowflex, and an EZ curl bar with some plates…none of which my dad used. My mom was just happy to see the “rusty metal get some dusting.” I started putting some weights away, suddenly very conscious of what my mom told me yesterday. I looked at him standing tall and lanky surrounded by a room full of iron. Sometimes boyish impertinence overcomes social expectations: “You don’t look sick,” I said bluntly. “I don’t feel sick,” he replied just as bluntly. A pause. “I’m not sick.” “Mom says you can’t do any activity,” I retorted. He shrugged. “Not supposed to. My body can’t take it.” “What did they do to you?” I asked softly. He sat down on the bench, brushing hair from his eyes with his hand, eyes looking inward. “I don’t know much,” he said finally. “I remember what they said they were going to do but I don’t remember when they actually did it. They put me in a cold coma and circulated blood from my body into some sort of machine that introduced an enzyme which was supposed to kill the cancerous cells.” “I guess it worked,” I said simply. He looked at me patiently. “They said I had days left to live. That the cancer had metastasized to my organs and bones. There was no hope,” he said calmly. “I was prepared to die.” Not a fan of dark moods, I said what came naturally. “Sorry the docs let you down, buddy,” I chuckled and quickly changed the direction of the conversation. “But why were you gone for so long?” Casey sighed. “I was cured within six months but apparently I was reacting to the treatment strangely. That’s the part I don’t remember very well. I thought I handled all those stress tests fine; I felt better than ever. I was gaining weight back and everything. But the doctors told me that I failed them and that I had to minimize any activity.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a baggie with some pills. “I have to take these three times a day and avoid any physical exertion.” He smiled. “They taste like death.” “What do they do?” I asked. “They supposedly keep my body from falling apart. Exercise in a bottle my doctor said.” I was intrigued. “Do they work?” I asked and Casey surprised me by taking off his shirt, revealing the body of a healthy teenager. He was by no means as built as I was. Although couple of inches taller than my 5’7” I probably still outweighed him by a few pounds. But for someone who apparently never exercised, he looked pretty good. “You been cheating, Casey?” I asked with a grin. My friend shook his head. “No. I haven’t had a chance to. I’ve been on ‘round the clock surveillance for years. In fact, this is the first time I can remember being away from doctors and parents at the same time.” I looked at the pills in his hand. “Um, Casey,” I began nervously. “What would those pills do to someone like me? Someone who works out?” My friend shrugged nervously and looked at the baggy. “I don’t know,” he said simply. “They never told me what they are.” He paused and looked at me seriously. “Not sure if I like where this is going.” Damn, I thought. “Dude, just one. You take them three times a day, every day. What would one do? It’s not like it’ll kill me. I’ll take one, you can help me finish my workout, and we’ll do something else.” Casey looked back at the pills and then proved many parents right when it comes to estimating the decision-making skills of their young teen. “All right,” he said and threw me one from his bag. My heart was fluttering in my chest. If this did what I wanted it to, I thought, Casey might have to tell his mom he lost his bottle. Casey helped me rack my weights and we began what was supposed to be the final thirty minutes of today’s workout. CHAPTER 2 “Dude,” I said breathlessly. “I have to sit down.” We were about a five minute walk from my house, Casey’s suggestion. He wanted to get a feel for the old neighborhood. My old friend acquiesced and sat with me on the concrete drainage ledge on the side of the typical suburban street. “That workout really tapped you, didn’t it,” he said to me as I sat down next to him. I barked a grumpy laugh as I got comfortable. “It was the worst workout of my life,” I said in spite of my intension to merely think it. Casey shifted. “Looked like you started off really into it.” I thought for a moment and realized he was right. I was doing great initially; every rep felt like it was making my muscles larger. But within minutes, the inspiration wore off and a few minutes after that every lift was a chore. He didn’t feel sick, he didn’t even feel weak. It was like his body was depressed in spite of his mind. “My burps taste like a dog’s ass,” I said as a particularly raunchy one erupted up my throat. My friend chuckled. “If I didn’t know what you were talking about, I’d ask how you could be so sure.” “Those pills suck,” I said mirthlessly. Casey blushed. “What did you expect?” he asked, slightly offended. “To blow up like a beast?” “Well,” I began, “yeah.” Then I laughed. We both did. “Sorry to disappoint,” Casey said with a chuckle. “Guess these have a different effect on you.” I was disappointed, but I thought of the personal instruction Coach Rod was going to give me after school next semester and I brightened up. Besides, I was in a better situation than Casey. “You ever think about doubling your dose? You know, to see what happens?” Casey chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, made me feel like shit.” His face grew serious. “Dude, I feel like I’ve been a shadow walking through life these last few years. I don’t even remember what it’s like to just be a normal kid. I’m ready to start over.” “What do you mean?” I asked. Casey looked over at me. “Everything I read about leukemia says that I had something different all those years ago. Nothing adds up and for years I’ve felt the pawn in a scientific game. I can’t even trust my parents anymore.” “You can trust them,” I said confidently. “They did everything they could to make you better. Even moved to another state.” Casey nodded as if he knew that very well. “Well, now that I’m out from under that doctor’s and everyone else’s microscope, I can start being a kid again. Apparently the more experimental a procedure is, the more they own you afterwards.” He took the baggie of pills from his pocket. Tears were streaming down his face. “Fuck that doctor and fuck these pills.” He threw the baggie into my lap. “They are yours for all I care.” Ten minutes later, when Casey’s sobs had softened into short breaths, we got up and started walking to his old house where his parents were still moving in. He actually spit out a sad laugh as he wiped his eyes. “You would have probably had a less emotional day if your mom had forced you to take the ugly girl to the prom.” I laughed as well. “Yeah, well I got you to take your shirt off well before she would have.” I paused. “It’s good to have you back.” And it was. We made it back to Casey’s house. I still felt out of breath and lethargic, as if I’d spent a week straight sitting on a couch. Casey went up to the back of the moving truck and went to pick up a box. “What are you thinking?” a shrill voice moaned from the house. I turned and saw Casey’s mom rush from the house. “You know you’re not able to do that.” Casey let out an exasperated sigh and he put the box back on the truck bed. “Just thought I’d give you a taste of my life’s been like,” he whispered to me under his breath. He walked back into the house. I turned to follow after him, but I didn’t miss the sad and desperate look on Jeanette’s face. “I’m sorry,” I said and ran into the house. “Don’t be,” he heard her say quietly at his back. Three days later, winter break began and it was a countdown to spring and my new workout regimen. I got supplements for Christmas, and lots of it. “That’s all you’ve been talking about for four months,” my mom said. “We didn’t know what else to get you.” She looked nervously at my hoard. “That stuff is safe, right?” Casey and I continued to grow closer and before long we felt like the friends we used to be. On the Saturday before school started, on one particularly chilly day, the two of us were racing our bikes through the paths we did as young children. Casey’s mom didn’t approve but her son was breaking her down little-by-little. Besides, he felt great he said, and he wasn’t even taking the pills anymore. Not that his mother knew that last part, and she thought we were just casually riding through the paved streets of the neighborhood and not these arduous semi-trails in the rolling woods which lay at its border. Deep in the woods behind Casey’s house, we were pushing our bikes to the limit jumping over fallen trees and powering our way up hills. After a particularly daunting hill, he pulled to a stop. We were both out of breath but relishing the exhaustion the way only the young are able. “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried about Casey’s frail health. I turned towards him. His face was flushed and healthy, and that made me relax a bit. “Nothing,” he said as he stepped off his bike. He looked down at his legs and kicked them around at the knee, testing them. “Nothing,” he said again. Then he looked at me, his eyes sparkling. “You know, I’ve felt better and better ever since I stopped taking those pills.” I’d heard this before from him over the last couple days but was still confused by it. I hadn’t taken one after that first day so had nothing to compare it against. “Why do you think that is?” I asked, unzipping my jacket to let some cold air in. Casey seemed more interested in his legs than answering my question but eventually spoke. “You know my clothes aren’t fitting like they used to.” “Well, stop eating so much food,” I said sarcastically. The guy seemed to be eating whenever we weren’t stealing away from the steady gaze of his mother do to something she didn’t approve of. Casey’s eyebrows shot up and he smiled a knowing smile. “Let me show you something,” he said and started taking off his jacket. “What are you doing,” I asked him but barely finished the sentence before he pulled off his sweater and undershirt. The sight choked any other words from escaping. I couldn’t believe it. My friend was a stud. The overhead sun cast shadows under his pecs and detailed every soft line of his abdominal muscles all the way to the hem of his pants. Although not as striated as they were a few weeks ago, his pecs were easily denser and he bounced them a few times for good measure. Then he flexed his arms and a small bulge bloomed from each. A shadow was easily noticeable between his flexed biceps and relaxed triceps. He was easily as big as me now, and taller. “Holy shit,” I whispered. “That’s nothing,” he said and his smile grew wider as he bent over and unzipped his jeans. Dropping his pants revealed a set of quads that belonged on a track star. They swelled from his knee caps and were covered in deep set lines which only grew deeper when he flexed them. Turning revealed a ripped set of hamstrings and a set of striated glutes that bulged through his boxers. Compared to these oaks, his upper body looked like a sapling. “What the fuck?” I blurted out, unable to comprehend what my friend had become. “Sick, right?” Casey said. “Every day we ride our bikes through here, they start swelling like this. They tingle all day, like a mini-orgasm that lasts for hours. The shrink down after a few hours but, when I wake up the next morning, they’re definitely bigger than the day before.” I was at a loss. “How…what…dude!” Casey laughed as he pulled up his jeans, which for some reason disappointed me a bit. How have I missed it? It wasn’t hard to notice the size of his lower half even through the denim. The pieces were starting to come together in my head. I suddenly asked the right question. “What did they do to you in Jacksonville?” Casey’s smile dropped and his eyes lost their mirth. “I don’t know,” he said seriously, still shirtless in the cold. “But I’m not going to be their guinea pig anymore.” “What do you mean?” I asked, a little fearful of his tone. He smiled again and his eyes flashed with excitement. “I have a favor to ask,” he said. CHAPTER 3 Coach Rodriguez, or Coach Roid as his players called him when he wasn’t looking, looked at the two of us with a stern look. His heavily veined arms were crossed in front of his steel gut, making his forearms look like the size of pig shanks. “Now I know you,” he said to me. “And I know your dedication. I see something in you. But who’s this other kid you think I ought to waste my time to train?” Casey didn’t flinch but he let me answer. “I think you’ll like his work ethic every bit as much as mine.” It was the afternoon of the first day of spring semester. The day I’d been waiting for. And I was here with my best friend. Coach scanned Casey with his eyes. “You bring gym clothes?” he asked casually. Without hesitation, Casey took off his shirt and jeans. While he was wearing a pair of gym shorts beneath the jeans, apparently “gym clothes” meant bare above the waste. At 6’3” and an easy 250, Coach Rod made the two of us look like bean poles but he was surprised to see the definition on Casey. “Where you been all season?” he asked my friend. I was about to answer but Casey appropriately cut me off. “I’m new here, sir,” was all he said. “You play football?” “Used to,” he replied. Even though “used to” meant five years ago, Coach Rod apparently thought that was enough to assume Casey would be in pads next season. “I’ll tell you what, squirt; you give me one hundred pushups right here, right now, I’ll train your ass.” Casey immediately got on the floor and started doing pushups at a quick pace. “Real pushups, squirt,” he screamed loud enough to get a blood filled cable to rise from his neck. “Not those girly shits, elbows at ninety. There you go. That’s one.” About five real pushups later, Casey began to slow. Muscled or not, I wasn’t sure he’d done a push up since PE in third grade. I was suddenly hoping Casey could do twenty, let alone a hundred. Casey got to ten before his arms started to shake. Coach rolled his head and stared dramatically at the ceiling. “Oh, Jesus Christ, what the hell is it with these pussies? All this aesthetics bullshit and they can’t even throw their own weight around.” “Fifteen,” Casey said through gritted teeth. Coach looked back down at my still shaking friend. He kept his arms straight for a moment to catch his breath then dipped back down with shaky arms. “Six…teen,” he gasped as he slowly made his way back up. “Ok, kid,” Coach said. “I’m not sure you’re going to—“ “I’M NOT FINISHED,” Casey roared as the dropped down and pushed another rep. Coach’s eyebrows dropped and his face grew red in anger. He opened his mouth to verbally assault the disrespectful sod but was cutoff again by Casey yelling “Seventeen!” Only now each pushup seemed to be getting easier. By twenty he was only struggling and by thirty he was performing each rep in a clean, fluid motion. Fifty, sixty. The muscle on his back began to flush red and roll beneath the skin. “Well I’ll be damned,” Coach said under his breath. I could only smile. Seventy, eighty. Casey’s breath was now steady and strong. The horseshoes of his triceps, once only vaguely visible, now flared angrily from beneath his skin. Ninety. Then Casey did something I still can’t get over: he took one hand off the ground and started doing one armed pushups. One hundred… one-oh-one, one-oh-two. I started laughing. Coach got serious behind his own sardonic grin. “Get up, you arrogant ass,” he said. “I get it. You’re in. But can it with the sarcasm. You wasted a lot of my time acting like you would collapse at twenty.” Casey stood up, his face red with the effort and his pecs bulging like a pair of watermelons. Coach gasped and had his hand on my friend’s pec before he even knew what he was doing. Casey smiled and flexed them, making each into a striated ball that pushed against Coach’s touch. They were now so out of proportion with Casey’s body, the almost looked like breasts. “Um, ok,” Coach said as he dropped his hand and wiped it on his hip as if cleaning what he’d just done out of history. “This could be interesting.” Casey didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were semi-closed as if stoned. He flexed his pecs a few more times, squeezing them together as if noticing them for the first time. Then coach screamed an inch from his ear, “Wake up Goldilocks!” That did the trick. Five minutes later, the two of us were marching to Coach’s relentless drum. He pushed me a dozen reps past what I used to consider my max effort. He had me falling on the ground before he let up. I puked twice but he was quick to throw me a pre-made protein smoothie or something similar each time. “Nothing worse than working out on an empty stomach,” Coach said with a wry grin. It was the hardest day of my life, without question, but I could say that knowing that well over half the coach’s attention was on Corey. Coach seemed to finally understand that Corey somehow gained strength on each set, so he would start Corey off with light weight and incrementally increase it after five or so reps until he reached some sort of max. “You’re making me break every rule in the book, son,” the man told my friend after a particularly intense set under the bench press. Corey had just finished forty reps, the final ones being at 245 pounds. His entire body now matched the size of his swollen pectorals. It was like he was gaining mass out of nowhere, although coach was handing him every food item he had at hand throughout the workout. Although I knew he was 155 when we started this workout, he now looked over 180 and cut like a mountain. By the end of the hour, Casey had the sum of Coach’s attention. And I was ok with that. Casey lifted like an insane superhero and his body bulged more with every rep. Finally, Coach called it quits. As the energy in the room died down, Coach Rod’s game-time fury dissolved into something akin to confusion. “Young man, I don’t know what is going on with you, but I’ll be goddamned if I’ve ever seen anything like it.” He looked at Corey’s naked torso, now looking like an avid teen bodybuilder’s. “What are you taking, boy?” Corey smiled up at the behemoth man. “Nothing, I swear.” And it was the truth. Coach didn’t seem convinced but let it go. “I’ll see the two of you here at 4 pm on Wednesday. Eat at least four thousand calories a day from here on out.” He looked at Corey’s gorged body again and reached out to squeeze his arm, as it proving he was seeing reality. Corey lifted his arm and flexed what must have been a 16” arm. Not huge, but definitely bigger than the 13” one he walked in here with. Coach mumbled under his breath and continued doing so after he turned to leave. I only caught a few, “freak” was one of them. CHAPTER 4 “One hundred eighty three pounds!” Corey exclaimed through a mouthful of food as he stepped off the scale. That was a gain of over thirty pounds…in three hours. It shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t possible. I mimicked Coach Rod and put my hand on my friend’s body, if only to make sure it was real. His skin was burning hot and there was a vibration coming from the muscle underneath, so faint that it may have been my imagination. And his body was hard. Too hard. It was like touching a brick wall covered in skin. He was in only his boxers, which now looked more like briefs on his gorged body. He had the vascularrity of a bodybuilder; there was muscle everywhere. I kept expecting the insane pump he attained during the workout to go away but if anything he was bigger than before, and more defined. A pump usually makes you look bigger but not more defined. That ballooned look was now gone, replaced by striated and cut muscle that was every bit as big. “How big do you think I am?” Corey asked while he entertained me checking out his deep cut abs. I pulled my hand away. “Guess we can find out,” I said simply. Five minutes later, I had found a tape measure and had measured every part of him that wasn’t covered in fabric. Neck 15.2”, Arms 16.1”, Forearms 12.6”, Waist 31”, Hips 34.7”, thighs 26”, calves 16”, chest 46.8.” “How is this possible?” I asked, meaning for it to be rhetorical. Casey’s eyes flashed and his mouth narrowed. “Isn’t it obvious? They’ve spent the last three years doing everything they could to keep this from happening. Well, I’m not under their vulturous stare anymore. I own my body,” he said as he threw up a double bicep flex that would be the envy of anyone at the school. “And I’ll fucking do what I want with it.” My brain had enough; it was exhausted. I looked at my watch. “Dude, it’s eleven at night. You staying here tonight or you want my mom to take you home?” Casey was snapped out of his cloud and looked up. “Staying here. If my mom sees this, I don’t know what she’d do. She’s obviously tried to keep it from happening.” I couldn’t exactly disagree with him so I threw him a pillow and blanket and told him to sleep on the floor. Two hours later I was still awake, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Casey, as energetic and excited as he was, had surprised me by falling asleep immediately. The causes of my insomnia were a mix of a racing mind and the frequent moans of my friend as he perpetually shifted under his blanket. I was more than a little jealous of my buddy’s sudden…superpower, but I was happy for him. A week earlier I thought my life was perfect. I figured by sophomore year I’d be 180 or more; after that, who knows? If anything, having my friend back should make my life better, right? I smiled at the ceiling as Casey shifted again under his sheets. As a sense of peace settled over my mind, I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep. Strange sounds fluttered into my dreams throughout the night. However, as often happens when one falls asleep to unwanted background noise, my sleep remained firm if light. I don’t know how long the sounds continued but it wasn’t until the grey light of predawn filtered through my window that I finally opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the black silhouette rummaging through my closet. The second thing was the mess on my floor. Empty bottles were everywhere and after a few seconds I recognized them to be most of the supplements I got for Christmas…empty. I could feel anger bubbling through the sleepy fog blanketing my mind, but it was soon cooled by a sense of curiosity tinged with fear. “Casey?” I asked the lumbering shape in my room. He didn’t respond and the fear pushed up a couple notches. Although the logical part of my brain said of course its Casey, the rest of it knew that couldn’t be true. The shape was too…different. I got out of bed, quickly losing any groggy remnants of sleep, and made my way to the door. Although I tripped over a few empty jugs of protein on my way to the light switch, the shape didn’t seem to register it. It seemed completely absorbed in eating my damn supplements. I flipped on the switch, my eyes squinted at the harsh new light but quickly registered the site before me none-the-less, and I almost passed out at the site of it. CHAPTER 5 Although the beast in front of me had Casey’s hair, the similarity ended there. He was facing away from me, his back muscles bulging and writhing as large hands sifted through what used to be my supplement store. Traps rose up and disappeared behind the shaggy mane atop his head. They ended at shoulders the size of cantaloupes. The rest of his back was wide a mountain of muscle that tapered into a waste more tight and taught than I thought possible. His boxers were glued to his skin and every striated detail of his glutes showed through the fabric. His oak tree legs were now redwoods and tapered down to calves that could carve granite. “Casey?” I asked again, my voice horse and barely above a whisper as I drew closer. He was obviously taller, perhaps 6’1 and that made him look even wider. I walked around him and glanced at his face from the side. His eyes were only partly open as if in a trance and his mouth hung gaping open whenever he wasn’t chewing on something. “CASEY!” I said louder. Still nothing. I reached up and grabbed his rock of a shoulder, trying to shake him. It wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped, he barely even moved even when I tried moving him with both hands. I ended up bulldozing into him with all my weight behind me before he took a balancing step and snapped out of it. “What?” he asked curiously, as if I’d simply woken him up from a good night’s sleep. He squinted at the light just as I had a moment earlier and wiped sleep from his eyes with his hands. Finally somewhat conscious, he looked at the mess on the floor around him. “What did you do to your room, man?” he asked innocently. I was more than at a loss for words. As Casey turned to me he revealed a body that could grace the cover of any fitness magazine. His pecs bulged from his ribs and looked like they were straining to cover the distance from sternum to shoulder. Eight dense and ripped abdominal muscles were carved between oblique walls that, themselves, bulged as if his ribs themselves were growing. His biceps were veined globes of muscle that looked made of steel even while relaxed at his side. My silence seemed to give Casey pause to figure things out for himself and it didn’t take long for him to notice how much taller he was than me now. Less than an inch over my 5’7 yesterday, he was now at least 4 inches taller…maybe more. He looked down at his hands, his eyebrows rising. Then he saw his body and a quiver went through his ripped form. “Look at me,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He put his hands on his stomach as if testing its reality. He smiled and his eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Look at me!” he said louder. “I am, I am,” I whispered harshly. “And quiet down, will ya? Last thing I want to explain to my parents is why there’s a big, naked bodybuilder in my bedroom at…5 am.” Casey strolled up, heavy footed and obviously not used to his added weight. “Wanna make me?” he asked with a mocking grin. I gulped. I was roughly eye level with his chin, making his powerful chest very visible in my field of view. Each pec looked as big as my head. He caught me staring and gave one a bounce just for good measure. It popped up like there was an animal trying to get out of it. “Go ahead,” he said. “Touch it.” I did. Maybe any overly muscled person felt like my friend Casey did that day but it was a far cry from the body I called my own. His skin was smooth yet barely contained muscle as hard as bone. When, flexed it was a whole different story. It was like touching a block of steel. It’s not like his size was inhuman but I’d never seen a body like this except in pictures and it was a completely different world when there in the flesh so to speak. He was just...so much bigger than me. “It’s incredible,” I said as I moved my hand to his bicep, first poking it goofily with my index finger, then grabbing it with my hand. His skin was still on fire and there was still that faint vibration. It was like the rumble of the earth when a freight train is passing nearby. He curled his arm at the elbow and I felt a powerful bulge rise up and push my hand back. “You should feel it the way I feel it,” he said breathlessly. “It’s like the only thing keeping me from being twice this size is my skin.” I couldn’t necessarily disagree with the idea; his skin felt as tight as a balloon ready to pop. After a few awkward moments of silence where I could only feel a body I had only dreamed of seeing let alone have, we finally got down to business. “I guess your supplements work,” Casey said finally. “I’m sorry about that, man. Would you believe I didn’t know what I was doing?” I nodded, and did. I could hear the sound of movement from elsewhere in the house meaning my parents were up and about. They could not see Casey like this. Luckily, I had some clothes and a jacket to hide his width but not much would hide his height. “You shower up and find some clothes. I’ll go get some breakfast.” Casey nodded and walked to the bathroom, feet pounding like a gorilla’s. “Quietly,” I whispered. “I don’t want them to even know you’re here and that won’t happen if you’re stomping all over the place.” “Sorry, man,” Casey said as he adjusted his stride to tiptoes, forcing his vein-covered calves to flare out like diamonds. “You try being stealthy with a body like this.” He flexed his back for good measure…I didn’t even know you could even do that. I rolled my eyes and went downstairs, only to find the kitchen a small disaster zone. Slight panic welled up in my gut when I realized Casey had not only eaten my supplements but had devoured everything in the kitchen. I pictured him sleepwalking in only his boxers, rummaging through the kitchen, body expanding with every bite of food. Considering the situation, I considered myself lucky it was only as messy as it was. He was surprisingly thorough, leaving only empty cans and boxes scattered everywhere. I spent the next ten minutes gathering the tuna cans, peanut butter jars, egg cartons, milk jugs, deli meat bags, Wheat Thins, cereal boxes, you name it. By the time I was done, the pantry and fridge looked like they belonged to a poor college student…without the ramen noodles. Even after collapsing everything to as compact a pile as possible, it still filled up the garbage can in the garage. With no breakfast save a handful of goldfish crackers he had missed, I went back up to my room, still hearing the rushing water from my shower. Looking at the clock, I saw it was already 5:45, fifteen minutes before my parents ventured downstairs. I started to panic a little but kept my cool. I barged into the bathroom and drew the curtain on my friend, who seemed to be lathering his body for the tenth time. “You fucking ate my kitchen bare,” I said. He looked at me, looking half annoyed I wouldn’t let him enjoy his new body and half amused at the situation. “Oops,” he said. He flexed his arm. “Does a body good. These puppies are over eighteen inches around.” They looked every bit that big. I looked on the counter and saw my tape measure in a pool of water, as if he used it in the shower. The scale was also sitting in a pool of water. He must have thought of that particular stat after he got in. “Two twenty one,” he said smugly, following my eyes. My jaw dropped but I wasn’t all that surprised. It’s not like that body was full of air. It took every shred of effort not to touch his body again. “Look, you gotta dry up and get dressed, Casey,” I said, practically begging him to cooperate. :We got fifteen minutes before my parent notice we were invaded by a mob of hungry drifters.” That seemed to get his attention because he immediately turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. His glutes formed ruggedly carved boulders each time they bounced with each step. He grabbed a towel and dried off, seemingly enjoying the experience as much as he did the shower. Meanwhile, I held up the clothes he wore yesterday to my own body and quickly ruled out his ability to wear them. I rummaged through my closet for the biggest clothes I could find, meaning invading the stash of gifts from my grandmother, who seemingly thought I looked like adult-large material. “You’ll grow into it,” she had said confidently. “Yeah, in five years,” I said to myself. Five minutes later, we were both dressed, sort of. The shirt looked almost painted on his torso and the pants, although only slightly snug at the legs and butt, rose a good inch above the ankle standing up. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about people making fun of your capris,” I said after he made a comment about them. “Who would dare?” he said cockily. His feet were too big for his shoes now, so I gave him a pair of flip flops. The fact his toes and heels extended past the soles was nothing compared to the ridiculous ensemble he was already wearing. I completed it with my oversized ski jacket. If anything it made him look bigger, but at least that size might be blamed on the clothes and not the man underneath. We both crept down the stairs. Well, I crept. He stomped like a one-man marching band. “I can’t help it,” he said, still grinning. “Honey, is that you?” my mom said from her room. “Yeah,” I yelled back, my face red with frustration. “Heading to school early. Have a meeting.” It was the most ridiculous explanation I could have offered but it seemed to suffice to a woman who didn’t know there was anything to worry about. “There’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch,” she said in reply. Casey failed at any attempt to hold back a laugh, most of it escaping through his nose in a sort of snort. In spite of myself, I laughed too. What can I say? It was funny. “Thanks mom,” I said, voice filled with humor. Ten seconds later we were out the door. “Well, its six am,” I said matter-of-factly. “School doesn’t start for another hour-and-a-half.” I looked over and saw Casey thumbing through his wallet. “I’m sure we could fill that time up.” Believe it or not, we did. School was about a half mile from my house, as was a local convenience store. After raiding it of any nutritional value and one extra large “No Fear” t-shirt that I didn’t know people even sold anymore, we found ourselves back in the gym at school. “I wanna test these babies out,” Casey had said, popping a double bicep flex while walking down the road. The jacket stood attention as it rose with his bulging arms. I relaxed somewhat. That jacket was plenty big enough even if the shirt underneath was not. Fourteen hours and sixty pounds after his first gym experience, my friend Casey, cancer survivor, was benching 405 lbs for reps. My body was in tatters from the night before, feeling like it would hurt for days. I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow’s workout with coach. But Casey’s body was apparently begging to be used. His chest swelled with each rep, his lats flaring like wings as he pushed his arms up. He was beginning to look like a pro-bodybuilder, except his muscles were still long and hard, not puffy and bloated like I’d seen on the cover of magazines. Not for the first time I wondered what the limit of his growth would be. Between each set, Casey would pose in the mirror, and each time a new body would pose back, a little bigger, a little leaner, a little stronger. It was something neither of us got tired of. However, at 7 am, I finally touched his boulder of a shoulder and told him it was time to stop. People might be showing up soon. “So what,” he said, the left side of his mouth curling up in a smile as arrogant as a drunken fratboy. “Let ‘em come. He flexed his biceps and Olympian arms exploded from their cocoon, both heads of each biceps stretching their constraining skin.” I still remember the feeling I had right then, inches away from the herculean body of what must have been the most developed fifteen year old in the world. Little did I know then how many Casey’s there were out there. I finally convinced him to put his clothes back on and walk to the front of school, and it involved letting him know that more people could see him there than here. The jeans were a little tighter and the polo shirt was a joke. It stretched across his torso like a rubber band, every ravine in his back visible and every bulge threatening to tear it apart. He smiled knowingly and lifted his arm. “Corey, no,” I said pleadingly but he had already flexed his bicep and the sleeve ripped lean across the seam and his arm exploded out of it like water bursting from a dam. It was criss-crossed in veins and the striations writhed beneath. “Dude,” I said, internally wincing at how winey I sounded. “That was a nice shirt.” “Was,” he said matter-of-factly as he ripped the rest off as if it were paper. After a pause, he looked up guiltily, “Sorry, bro, got carried away.” I couldn’t feign anger I didn’t feel. Everything that had happened since he awoke that morning was too incredible to focus on the negatives. Looks like it was a No Fear day, which was somewhat appropriate. It fit well, his vascular arms and 60” chest still had some breathing room. Ten minutes later we were both milling around in front of the school with the rest of the early arriving students. Although at school the day before, I never really had the chance to introduce Casey to any of my friends. He made up for that today. People I only rarely spoke to now came up for no reason to introduce themselves. One in ten looked like the name sparked a memory from years back but none said anything. Most had never known Casey anyway. His face was the only thing that made him look the age he said he was. The jacket was somewhat successful hiding the bodybuilder figure he was sporting but the jeans, ridiculously baggy on me and only barely tight on him an hour ago, now showed off his powerful legs that took every inch of its circumference. He was a hit to say the least. We split up for home room but shared first period. At no point did I see him without food in his mouth, most gotten from the convenience store, the rest from the “healthy” vending machines in the hallways. He stood out when we walked from class-to-class, easily mistaken for a senior athlete. In a class laden with other freshman, he looked downright foreign. He did well and kept his jacket on, although he looked increasingly uncomfortable and shifted around in a way that garnered some unwanted (or wanted) attention from the rest of the class. Our schedules split us up until lunchtime, and the couple of hours in between allowed me to hear all the rumors flying around about the “hot new stud” at school. I even heard one of the teachers whispering about him to her aid. “We’re training together,” I often said to any person curious how I knew him. More than once, I garnered the reaction I secretly wanted: the look that pictured me being just as big as him one day. The bell for lunch finally arrived and I finally saw Casey again. He was hard to miss. I still couldn’t get over how big he was and suddenly realized that I was at eye level with his upper chest now. My heart both sank and fluttered at the same time. He was still getting bigger. He had to be 6’5” now. The hem of his pants was well up his calf now and his quads and glutes now pressed violently against the denim and stretched it across his girth. The thick jacket now only served to enhance his frame. Although it still did a good job taking away his definition, his biceps now stretched it when his arms were bent and you could begin to see the outline of his chest under the inches of padding and cotton insulation. He was eating beef jerky out of a Warehouse sized bag and carried a gallon jug of water with his pinky as if it were an empty teacup. “Where did you get that shit?” I asked harshly, knowing quite well how unintimidating I was. I had to very obviously look up to make eye contact with him. “The varsity football players have a food horde in the locker room. They hooked me up,” he said, seemingly unaware or uncaring of my tone. “You have to stop eating like that,” I said, somewhat desperately. He stopped chewing for a moment and raised his eyebrows. “Would you in my situation?” he said as he put another piece of jerky in his mouth and washed it down with a third of the jug, the muscles in his jaw flares with every bite. God, he had muscles everywhere. Ultimately, I couldn’t say I would act any differently so we went to lunch like nothing was wrong. While in line, Casey received second glances from everyone who passed by. He didn’t even act like he noticed, but I saw his eyes briefly make contact with some of the onlookers. He knew, and was loving every minute of it. We sat down at what would be called the “cool kids” table if this were 1987. Casey and all his size sat in the place of honor in the middle. His tray looked like my plate did on Thanksgiving: so loaded up with food that you couldn’t even see the porcelain underneath. Apparently the lunch ladies knew he was a hungry boy and were delighted to help quench his stomach. He was flanked by my friends Jeremy and Amelia while I sat on the opposite site of the table from him. Both friends were making seemingly accidental contact with him too often for it to be as it appeared, and both didn’t seem to fathom what they were touching. Then Casey really set the table off: halfway through lunch, he took off his jacket and lay in on his lap. “Can’t hardly breathe,” he told me when my eyes grew wide. “Jesus Christ,” Chandler Roberts exclaimed with alarm from the end of the table. And that was the least of the comments which erupted from the table, not to mention from other people in the cafeteria. Carla, the girl sitting to my right, reacted by actually spitting her iced tea all over Jeremy’s face. To say Casey was bigger than this morning was an understatement. The No Fear shirt was an errant flex away from tearing apart. How big did one have to be to stretch an XL shirt by that much? His lats bulged and his shoulders looked like pumpkins, ridges and all. His chest was pressing against the shirt comically and bounced involuntarily with every movement of his arm. The veins and striations in his arms bulged through the t-shirt as if the fabric were merely paind. His back must have been equally impressive, for it garnered as much attention from the crowd seated behind him as his front received from us. “How on earth did you get all those muscles?” Colton, a friend of mine sitting next to me, also a bit of a gym rat, asked. “Hard work,” he said simply as he chugged his third carton of milk. His unflexed, but boulder-looking arm looked to be at least 20” around. Carla, who was still emotionally recovering from giving Jeremy’s face a bath, gawked openly. The rest of the lunch period, of course, revolved around Casey. And to be honest, I loved it. A couple of minutes after Jeremy finished drying his face, a particularly huge senior walked by and ducked his head next to Casey’s ear. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re sitting with the freshman, but I would kill to train with you, bro.” Casey grinned and at that precise moment, the fabric over his right shoulder split down the seam and ran itself all the way up to his neck, allowing the fabric on either side to fall back and reveal a smooth and gargantuan trap. I swear I didn’t see him flex or anything, but the timing was too perfect to not speculate intent. The big senior’s head snapped back and he dropped his lunch tray to the ground while his mouth hung open like a fish out of water. Casey turned around and I heard another stitch pop somewhere but didn’t know where. “I don’t know if you could handle my routine,” he said before turning back around. The senior walked away, leaving his trey on the ground and his gaze on Casey’s bare shoulder. The rest of the table was silent. By the time we were getting up from lunch, Casey sounded like an old ship at sea, every stitch of clothing creaked as they were pulled tighter and tighter or snapping all-together. Each bulge of his abs were clearly visible and protruded from below his shirt like a super-hero from a comic book. His quads bounced and boiled enough to show off their deep cuts even through the thick denim of his jeans. He seemed to realize that it would be a good idea to put the jacket back on but even it was looking comically tight by this point. “I don’t know what to say,” I whispered to him. And it was true. “Say it’s awesome,” he said with a laugh. I turned towards him, not surprised to see that I was eye level with the lower part of his chest now. Looking down, the bottom of his shredded calves could now be seen below the bottom cuff of his…my…jeans. I guessed he was 6’6, and maybe 260 lbs. Hell, maybe 300. Maybe more. It was hard to tell at this point. The lines of his biceps and triceps bulged through the polymer fabric of the jacket. It camouflaged nothing now. He might as well be walking around shirtless. My jeans groaned with each step he took. “I think you should stop eating until we get you out of here,” I said on our way to English, which we happened to both share. As if to answer, he pulled out yet another bag of beef jerky and started eating it one shredded leaf at a time. I sighed, but my stomach was fluttering. He was right. This was awesome. There were two more periods that day and I was counting down every second until that final bell. English was a lesson in patience. Casey sat next to me, concentrating only on what he was putting in his mouth. It seemed like every bite of food Casey swallowed resulted in the sound of another stitch popping somewhere on his body. The jacket now looked painted on him and, by the end of the period, I knew that the popping stitches were now coming from the jacket. The shirt underneath was probably just rags at this point. We split up for the final class and as I watched him go, standing head-and-shoulders above anyone else in the hallway and half again as wide. A trail opened up for him and not an eye was drawn to him as he passed by. I could only guess what he would look like by the final bell; a mere hour away. CHAPTER 6 I was standing in front of school after the final bell, allowing the milling masses of students to walk around me as I waited for Casey to meet me for our walk home. My last period was rife with whispered rumors about what happened with my swelling friend during our lunch period and the claims grew wilder as the minutes rolled by. “He picked Rick Barnes up by the neck and threw him across the lunch room,” I heard one guy say. I supposed Rick Barnes was the football player who asked to work out with him. The general consensus had Casey at well over seven feet tall and having to duck and turn sideways to get through a doorway. I chuckled internally at the exaggeration stated as fact yet had to question how far from the truth it actually was. As I eavesdropped on the conversations in the hallway and outside in the causeway, I realized the rumors were intensifying even further. “Some muscle guy burst clean out of his shirt and pants,” a girl said. “Guess they don’t make clothes big enough for a stud like that.” “They had to usher him out of the class,” I heard another person say. “Apparently he had to hold his backpack in front of his dick because his underwear came off too.” “I saw him in the hallway while I was heading to the bathroom, dude,” I heard from another. “Mr. Robertson was escorting him and had to reach up just to hold on to his arm. Fuck man, his hand didn’t even make it a third way around his bicep. The guy must have weighed…” His voice faded into the din of the passing crowd. No one who heard these tales believed them entirely yet passed them on as truth nonetheless. I didn’t believe completely either until a girl I actually knew hit too close to reality with her rendition. “He was eating like a starving animal and drinking his jug one water as if addicted,” Amber Reynolds said to a friend of hers as she walked by. “It was like he didn’t even hear the stitches on his clothes popping like fireworks.” I grabbed her arm before she could walk by and she pitched an annoyed look before she realized it was me. “Where you actually there?” I asked quickly. “What happened?” Amber’s dreamy smile returned. “I was there,” she said almost breathlessly. “It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” I thought of Casey’s overstuffed backpack and jug of water. He refilled that gallon jug three times during lunch alone and who knows how much food was in that pack. If muscle is 85% water, then Casey had an infinite supply of growth readily available. “Go on,” I said impatiently. “It was the craziest thing,” Amber Reynolds said, her eyes wide with excitement. “He just kept eating and drinking, eating and drinking until those little pops turned into the sound of paper ripping. I looked back and saw that his jeans had ripped along the thigh and was growing down his leg and up to his waste. His legs just erupted from the tear like they couldn’t wait to escape and…” she swallowed and took a breath. “I can’t tell you what they looked like. It was like…like a tree trunk covered in skin. They were so huge.” She held her slightly curved hands in front of her about two feet apart, as if mimicking how big his thighs actually were. “Then it went really crazy,” she continued. “He just…flinched. Or shrugged, or something.” She paused, her eyes glassy and somewhat…lustful. “And his clothes just fell away.” “Fell away?” I repeated, confused. “Fell away,” she said again. “Like he was shrugging off a blanket. Suddenly he was naked save for the clothes he was sitting on and a few tattered rags sitting on his bare legs. Oh god, what a sight.” “What happened to him, Amber?” I asked loud enough to break her from her stupor. She still looked at me a moment before answering. “I guess they took him to the principal’s office,” she said. Then she turned to the friend she had originally been speaking to. “I’d say I was sorry to see him go but at least I had the chance to see those gigantic legs move. Oh, and Sandy,” she said, returning her attention back to her friend. “His ASS. It was like two pumpkins trying to eat each other.” I raised my eyebrow at her strange description but let it and the two of them go as I raced back into the school to the principal. Making my way down the hall, I bolted right past the “Students must be escorted to enter” sign and into the faculty area. “Hold it right there, young man,” a woman said to my back as I raced by her and into Mr. Stone’s office. The principal, himself, was on the phone when I barged in and he immediately looked none too pleased to see me. “Hold on one moment, ma’am,” he said to the phone under a furrowed brow. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked me with a mix of anger and surprise as he pressed the mute button on the console. “Sorry, sir,” I said truthfully. “My friend Casey apparently had an…incident today.” The principal’s stone gaze softened and was replaced by a sort of dreamy terror. “Casey Valencort?” “Yes,” I said simply. The principal looked like he’d just flashed back to a memory he’d successfully tried to forget. He even started mumbling to himself as his eyes shot to a corner of the room behind me. I followed his eyes and saw the ruined remains of a wooden chair which must have originally rested where I now stood. God, I thought with surprise. How much weight would it take to crush it like that? I looked back at the principal, who was still blank faced and incoherent. “What happened?” I demanded angrily, shaking him out of his own mind. The fact he wasn’t upset with my tone was testament enough to his shock. “Coach Rodriguez took custody of him, took him to find some clothes,” he said blandly. I nodded and started to leave the office. “Wait,” the principal said, the gusto in his voice returning. I turned back, waiting for the rest. His fortitude was short-lived as his eyes had already glazed over a bit and the strength in his voice was gone. “What’s wrong with you kids these days?” I didn’t even answer. I was out the door and racing towards the gym. A minute later I burst through the doors to the school gym. Normally full of jocks pumping iron at this point (Monday was an exception as it was technically closed during the first day of the semester), it now held only two people: Coach Rod and the biggest human I’d ever seen in my life. Coach, all 250 pounds of him, was obviously dwarfed by my friend. Casey was shirtless and I’m not sure a shirt of any standard size would have fit him. However, Coach had found what looked to be XXXL shorts for him and it was so baggy at the waste that it rested on the stone shelf of his glutes yet still looked glued to what must have been 40” thighs. Casey himself was doing barbell curls, with four plates on either side. The kid was curling over four hundred pounds. And easily. His arms were crisscrossed with veins were pumped to nearly thirty inches around. Each different muscle in his arm stood out in bold relief. Coach Rod was sitting there, looking like a dwarf, eyes glistening in amazement. Based on the size difference, I’d put Casey at nearly seven feet tall and easily over 300 pounds, probably closer to 350. Both stopped what they were doing when I ran in. Casey was a site to behold, and for the first time today he didn’t have food in his mouth. His backpack was open and empty. He still had the jug with him, and took gulps often. Even at this size, his muscles were long and lacked that bloated look of a normal person who attained such mass. The entirety of his body was growing (if to a smaller extent than the muscle) and that included his bones, probably his organs, and (thank God) his skin. He was becoming a giant in every sense of the word. A giant made of corrugated steel covered in skin. He was also still growing, I assume, because he was continuously stretching and shifting as if to make room for new mass. I wondered how much “muscle reserves” he still had left in his stomach. He lifted his arms over his head in a just-out-of-bed stretch that made him look like a titan breaking out of a mountain. His lats flared like wings the size of a whole ham and pulled his iron mid-section of deeply etched ab blocks the size of mason bricks tight. He smiled at me between upper arms that dwarfed my head. Even after such an eventful day, I saw no fear in his eyes. There was only determination and an obvious enjoyment. “What up buddy?” he asked. Had his voice always been that deep? “I guess I should ask you that,” I said as I reach the two of them. As always, being this close magnified everything. Coach Rod’s own huge size somewhat compensated for Casey’s unnatural proportions at a distance but up close, there was no denying how big my buddy had become. He was as tall sitting as I was standing. There wasn’t a soft spot on his body, each muscle stood out boldly as if flexed. I could put both my outstretched hands, side-by-side, and not cross a single pec. Each shoulder was as big as my head. In short, he could break me like a twig with no effort if he had such a motive and there was nothing I could do about it. “Your friend has had quite a day,” Coach Rod said surprisingly casually. “An amazing day.” “Yeah,” I replied brilliantly. “He won’t tell me what’s going on but I suppose that’s his business anyway,” Coach continued. “What’s my business is making sure you two boys are okay.” “I’ve never been better,” Casey said as if for the tenth time. Coach Rod nodded impatiently, as if he’d heard it for the tenth time. “Just promise me you won’t end up giving half the high school a peep show again, young man.” Casey responded by bouncing his pecs, forcing those two fifty pound heaps flesh to jump like rabbits. “But it’s so much fun,” he said, every bit the fifteen year old he was. I saw a fistful of fury cross Coach’s eyes but was quickly replaced with a sparkle. To my surprise, he smiled. “How did it feel walking through those halls with a bookbag barely covering your junk for all to see?” “I ruled the world,” Casey said with a grin. “Hah!” Coach barked and slapped Casey on the arm, hard. The boy didn’t even move. Shit, his arm didn’t even dent. “I bet it did.” “CASEY!” a voice called from the door I just entered through. The three of us turned our head to see Casey’s mom standing in the doorway. Her face was a mask of worry and mascara stained streaks ran down her eyes. “Mom,” he said as he got up and walking by me. I was wrong, we was over seven feet. And over 350 pounds. He thundered over to his mom and bent over to embrace her, almost making her disappear in his arms. “Are you okay?” she asked, doing her best to take in the giant in front of her. The top of her head barely reached the bottom of his chest and he was easily twice her width. “Never better,” he said yet again. “But-“ She reached up and covered his mouth with her finger. “Shh. We have a lot to talk about, I know. On the way home.” And it was as simple as that. With a gracious nod to both Coach and me, she ushered the giant out of the room. Both of us exhaled breaths we didn’t know were being held. After an awkward silence, I smiled and did what I do. “Think you can make me that big?” I asked. Coach laughed a nervous laugh. “Can’t say it’s not possible,” he said and looked at the now vacant doorway. “Apparently nothing is these days.” “See you tomorrow afternoon?” I asked. He looked at me and nodded. I got up and left, leaving Coach on the bench staring at the wall. I could only guess what was going through his mind. I ignored the half believed rumors of a giant walking to a Camry and having to bundle himself into a ball to get in. Apparently he’d been so heavy that the passenger side of the car nearly dragged on the asphalt as it drove away. I walked home, expecting a call from my friend that never came. I let him be. My parents must have known something was up; they never asked about the suddenly empty kitchen. I went to bed early, dreaming about what it must be like to be any size you wanted. Casey wasn’t at school the next day but the rumors continued. He went back to the military lab he’d come from. He was playing football for a college team. One guy swore he was in the porn industry now. No one seemed to remember that I was the one who brought him here, and I was ok with that. I pounded another grueling workout with Coach Rod and tried to call Casey on the way home. No answer. After he didn’t show up the next day, I dropped by his house. His mother answered the door. “Hey there,” she said, her smile only semi-believable. “I was just wondering if Casey was home,” I said, sounding like a ten year old. “I’m sorry, hun, Casey won’t be back,” she said, sending a knife through my heart. “But I can tell you it’s for the best. He said so. It was wrong of me to keep him in a bottle I suppose.” She looked like she was only half convinced. “Will I see him again?” I asked. She smiled again, her eyes distant. “I don’t know. But you two have something special I suppose. That may bring you together.” I nodded but my heart was sinking. “Well, thanks,” I said and turned away. “Wait,” I heard at my back. “I almost forgot.” I turned back towards the door and saw her walking down the foyer and into the adjoining living room that was still serving as a receptacle for what remained unpacked from their move. She pulled a taped up box about twice the size of a standard shoe box and came back to the door. “He said you might want this,” she said as she handed the box over. “Said it’s some stuff from when you were kids.” I was somewhat taken aback, wondering if I should feel hurt and if he was closing himself out of my life after reintroducing himself into it so briefly. It tested it in my hands, ready to be gone. I bid her goodbye again, still perplexed by her strange mixture of sadness and…relief? The walk home was short and the box couldn’t have weighed more than ten pounds. It was slightly damp on the bottom and quietly rattled with each step, as if filled with beans. Ten minutes later it was on the desk in my room and I was cutting along the taped seam with my house key. Opening it revealed a sealed envelope sitting on top of some packing peanuts. My name was written on it, the letters large and somewhat unwieldy. It made me wonder how big Casey was when he penned it. How big do you need to be before using standard pens becomes a delicate chore? The letter inside was written in the same oversized and clumsy script. I heard somewhere that Vikings used to slice open their palms and shake hands with their closest friends, forming a bond that enemies could never break. As Blood Brothers, they gained each other’s strength and would meet each other in the afterlife if slain. I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me; maybe an afterlife in its own rite. There’s a lot more to this story than I ever knew and am still digesting it. I could use a Blood Brother along the way. The choice is yours, of course. Your friend, Casey I put down the letter and brushed aside the packing peanuts. Inside was a bunch of those pills he was taking before he came back. I was confused, and pretty sure we determined those to be poison. I took a few of the bottles out and noticed another, smaller box resting underneath. It was sitting on two ice packs that had melted back to mush. The smaller box was metal and looked pretty official. I opened it and my heart skipped a beat. Inside was a sealed hypodermic needle and next to it was a small vial filled with a thick red liquid so dark it was nearly blue. The words in the letter came crashing home, and what Casey wanted me to do. Blood brothers indeed. Blood Brothers 2 (Chapter 7) I rolled the vial of Casey’s blood in my palm, my mind trying to sort out a dozen different scenarios at the same time. From the din which crowded my senses came only one question, travelling only at a whisper yet as powerful as a typhoon. Would it make me like him? I didn’t know how to use a syringe; I’d never done any drug other than smoking a cigarette in eighth grade. And I’d hated it. I mean, it’s not like Casey had AIDS. What’s the worst that could happen? Before I could consider an answer, I involuntarily started focusing the BEST that could happen and doing so made my mind wander as if in a dream. I mentally felt my body, one that had felt so top of its class a few days earlier. I had a six pack, sure, but it was mostly due to me being lean. It’s not like it could take a punch. I told my meathead buddies that I had 14” arms but that required a full pump and a pretty solid rounding up. I suddenly felt like a man dying of thirst staring at a river of water, fresh and clean…and would keep him from ever being thirsty again. I took off my shirt and stared at the mirror on my wall. A weak voice in my head told me I was no slouch and an even quieter one said it was silly to compare my development at fifteen to a model on a magazine cover, a bodybuilder football coach, or a freak teenage boy. A louder one mentioned the dozens of same age guys at my school with better bodies than me. Why couldn’t I be the genetic freak? “Who listens to the quiet voice anyway?” I whispered to myself as I emptied the vial into the syringe and drained it in my butt cheek. It hurt like hell. Deed done, I dropped the empty syringe and looked back at the mirror. I looked the same, of course, only now my mind saw the reflected image as a cocoon from which a specimen rarely seen on this earth would soon break free. Looking back, that was probably the most powerful I’d ever felt. What had the current great muscle gurus of the world seen in the mirror when they were fifteen? Did they know what they would become? I thought I did, and couldn’t wait. On impulse, I dropped down and did as many pushups as I could before my chest gave out, which wasn’t many considering the intense regimen Coach Rod put me through earlier that afternoon. Standing, I was disappointed to see only a moderate pump, if one I’d be otherwise proud of. For the first time I felt doubt that this would work. My mind flashed to a couple days before, when I’d taken the pills, so sure they’d make me buff. I’d felt the same then as I did now; would the pending disappointment feel the same too? Life went on after that night. I ate dinner with my parents, kitchen fully restocked. My parents talked to me about the complete devouring of a family’s foodstuffs; I said Casey and I were on a heavy calorie diet and we feasted that night. They didn’t comment much. For all I knew they heard the truth about Casey already. Parents can be so…willfully blind at times. Regardless, I ate like a horse, hoping it would affect me the same as it did Casey. It didn’t. I went to bed that night stuffed to the point of pain. I woke up the next morning, which happened to be Friday, and ran to the mirror. Same body. I walked to the bathroom, weighing myself and was surprised that I saw 154 on the scale. I normally weighed 150. Then I realized I had to use the restroom. To spare the details, five minutes later I wasn’t 154 anymore…I was 151. The disappointment was the same, it turned out. I went to school as if everything was normal. Any, quite honestly, it was. Casey’s fifteen minutes of fame were still whispered about in corners among the meatheads and muscle-lovers, but that was about it. Although not depressed, I still wandered through the day lethargically. That lasted right up until my appointment with Coach Rod… “What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?” Coach screamed in my ear, the veins in his sweaty neck standing out like electric cabling. I had just finished benching 155 five times. I’d done eight reps four days earlier; not good. We were not alone. The high school gym was filled with perhaps a dozen or so lettered athletes, most juniors and seniors and every one of them bigger than me. They all stared at the two of us but with a gaze that said most had been yelled at by the behemoth coach on many occasions as well. “Give me those ever-effeminate hands of your,” he ordered as he forcefully took them and pulled me to the pull-up bar that stood in front of full-wall mirror. After forcing the person already using the contraption away with a glare, he somehow made a tube of duct tape appear out of nowhere and ordered me to grab the bar. I jumped up and hung from it, watching my tiny lats flair like flattened footballs. My curiosity was replaced with a morbid realization when Coach wrapped my hands in duct tape until they were nothing but grey balls connecting my wrists to the bar. I couldn’t move my fingers a hair’s width. “Now you’re going to hang there until I get one hundred decent pull-ups from you,” Coach said simply, then sat down and stared. I got to work but only got to eight before I gave up. “Fuck you, squint,” he said to my reflection in the mirror. I pulled again, arms, shoulders, and back burning. After hanging for a few seconds, I was able to do another. “Ten,” he said, not even looking. He looked like he was losing his patience. Over the next few minutes, I did five more before calling uncle. “I can’t,” I moaned, hanging from the balls of tape with my toes six inches off the ground. Suddenly Coach’s evil eyes were an inch from mine. The bulges of his traps and thickness of his neck absorbed the periphery of my vision. “If I hear ‘can’t’ one more time from you, ever, I will never train you again. You understand me?” I could only nod and did another rep. “Good,” he said, eyes still on fire. Then Coach surprised me by taking his shirt off and leaping next to me on the bar as if to perform pull-ups himself. I looked at our reflections in the mirror before up. Me, the puny fifteen year old, and my new mentor, all 250 pounds of shredded muscle, hanging next to me with his lats flaring like wings beneath his bulging arms. “You want to look like me one day?” he asked as he performed a perfect pullup. “You gotta work like me.” Then he did another and another. Then he looked at me and said something which changed everything. “You…are…not…Casey.” Something snapped in my brain. I had been looking for the easy way out. I was looking for a body in a day, like Casey. But that didn’t happen except in two-day-long dreams. This was how you built muscle. I performed another pull-up; Coach did the same. His arms and lats were flushed with blood and bulged as they pulled his weight. I want that, I thought. I did another pull-up; he did too. I don’t know how long it took me to get to one hundred but that time was filled with more screams and pain than I knew myself capable of bearing. Coach performed every pull-up with me, and did it with much less strain and noise. Exhausted, sweating, and ragged. I hung nearly lifeless from the bar, head down and body on fire. I felt a solid pat and squeeze on my lats. “Nice pump, boy,” Coach said as he put a foot stool beneath my feet and began unwrapping my hands. I looked at the mirror and was happy to see that my lats actually looked big, as did my arms…even if both felt as useless as a wet sponge. I also noticed that the rest of the eyes on the gym were on me. Coach did too. “If you assholes have nothing to do but gawk, get the fuck out of my gym,” he screamed, all the more intimidating without a shirt on. Some actually did; the rest turned away and didn’t make eye contact the rest of the hour. Coach turned to me, looking as scary as ever but speaking softly. “Ninety-nine percent of everyone who touches a weight will never reach their potential because they let their body tell them when to stop. The second you do that, you fail.” His face was a few inches from my own, and his angry eyes and gorged body filled my vision. He tapped my forehead with his index finger. “This tells you when to stop.” Coach grabbed his shirt from the floor. “Never in your life will you have a body more malleable than the 15 year old sack of skin you now wear. You feel like wasting that time by doing a few pushups then playing video games the rest of the day, you do it on your own time.” He paused, looked at my body hanging in front of him, then a gleam entered his eyes and his lips curled into a smile so small I almost believed it wasn’t there. “See you Monday.” Then he walked out of the room. I got the hint; I spent the next hour working my ass off in that gym. Well, that is, after one of the other guys in the room was kind enough to remove the tape from my hands. When I finally left, I felt completely destroyed but my heart raced with excitement and my mind was on fire. I felt amazing; I practically skipped home. That night, after eating three meals in four hours, I hit the bed at eight that night and barely took a breath before I was out cold. The next morning I weighed myself. 152. Whatever, Rome wasn’t built in a day. The semester progressed and consisted of eating, lifting, school, sleep and an occasional bit of life. I decided not to play baseball that year and focused on Coach Rod’s training. Each session was brutal but seemed easier as the weeks went by. Each day I woke up feeling a little bigger, a little heavier. The feeling was verified by the tape measure and scale. By the end of the second week I was 155. By February, I could claim 14” arms without any guilt. I became more defined, my pretty boy abs grew deeper and harder and my chest started to bulge as my bench presses reach the 200’s. By mid-February, I started to notice lines in my quads and could actually see the muscle moving under the skin. I was at 160 at that point and had forgotten all about my failed experiment with Casey’s blood. I also felt I wouldn’t have a problem making 180 by next football season. People started noticing that my shirts were getting tighter and as the winter chill began to fade, so did the amount of clothes I wore. My abs were becoming famous and being asked to show them became almost a daily event. By March I told Coach Rod something I never thought would come out of my mouth. “You think the workouts are too easy?” he asked, his voice rising by an octave. The rest of the people in the gym came to a screeching halt. That freshman punk said what? was written all over their faces. “I was wondering if we could do this five days a week,” I said sheepishly. “I’m just not hurting the next day anymore.” A devilish smirk grew into an evil grin. “If you’re still saying that by tomorrow, you little prick,” he said coldly, “you’ll get your five days a week.” There was nothing hiding his belief that would not be happening. I puked twice, nearly passed out once, but that next afternoon I stood in front of his office and said I was ready for more. He was shocked. But the sparkle I saw in his eyes said he was also proud. By March, I “tipped” the scales at 165. I’d gained fifteen pounds in eight weeks! My arms were now a solid 15”, my six pack had become and eight pack, I was getting close to 5’9”, and my legs were beginning to look like a sprinter’s. Although the lightest guy in the gym other than me had to be 180, I looked bigger, and I was easily stronger. I was benching 225 for reps and could curl fifty pound dumbbells. By mid-March, I was 170 and had pretty much put any shirt with sleeves into cold storage. Although big for a freshman, 170 isn’t much to brag about in high school. One look at my hard and vascular arms would show just how much muscle 170 could hold. Spring break means nothing more than pools and days off for a freshman but I found a way to lose my virginity to a sophomore named Jenna Staples. That was when life took a little bump… The week after spring break, in the hallway between periods I was suddenly slammed against a locker and before I knew what was happening there was gigantic forearm pressed beneath my chin and pressing my neck against the metal behind me. “You fucked my girlfriend,” a pair of angry eyes said down at me. They belonged to Jesse Strand, a linebacker on the football team and one of the best wrestlers our school had ever seen. He was a junior and was probably the strongest person in the school. He was 6’1, over 210 pounds and, from what I heard, was one of those genetically gifted individuals who was far stronger than their size would imply…and his size was substantial. He wasn’t as ripped as me but at times like these that didn’t matter. “I didn’t…know,” I said with difficulty. I could see the bulbous shoulders and traps bulging under his shirt. His neck was as big around as some people’s thigh. “She didn’t…tell me.” He responded by pressing me harder against the locker. “Don’t speak, pretty boy, just listen. I… reminded Jenna why she chose me and we’re just fine now. You and I?” he said menacingly. “You and I got a problem.” He looked down at my sleeveless arms and sneered. “Those things you have may sway the ladies but these,” he said as he flexed his free 18 inch arm an inch from my face, “are for kicking ass.” A grunt from behind this overgrown asshole diverted both of our attentions from each other and to Mr. Reynolds, a science teacher, standing with a stern face over a pair of crossed arms. A moment later, Jesse turned to me again and whispered “this isn’t close to being over” before releasing me. I collapsed to my knees as he walked away. The whole episode probably took less than ten seconds but I still felt everyone’s eyes on me as they walked by. Although I my mind pooled with legitimate fear, rage and obsession covered it in an oily sheen. The feeling lasted until just after the final bell rang when I walked towards the gym at the back end of the school. I was in the covered walkway among a small trickle of students on their way to various after school activities when I suddenly found myself staring up at the aluminum overhead from the ground. Stars danced before my eyes. A second later, as I was forcefully pulled up by my neck, pain ballooned across the right side of my face and I felt blood pour from my nose. Jesse, now in a white sleeveless shirt that showed just how big his arms were, filled my view. I could hear the hoots and laughter of his friends behind him. “Let’s just say that love pat was the least you deserved.” Then he did something I had no idea would be as humiliating as it was: he spit in my face. My mind boiled in rage and before I could even think about it, I shot a bloody wad of spit right in his eye. My stomach dropped and panic took over while the spittle was still in the air. Blinking the return fire away, Jesse’s face turned a menacing scarlet and a dark vein started to pulse on his forehead. His friends stopped laughing, suddenly afraid of what might happen. He squeezed my neck, causing the tendons in his arm to bulge. My arms flailed in a vain effort to push him away. He grabbed them both by my wrists with his free hand. His grip was like a vice and the combined strength of both my arms couldn’t budge him an inch. Jesse looked around and I took the opening to do the same. Although no one was in our immediate vicinity other than his two lackeys, there were a couple lingerers in distant eye shot. Looking back at me, his bicep and deltoid bulged with power as he actually lifted me off the ground onto my tip toes to get my face right up to his. “That’s your second mistake.” He paused. “And you last. It’s going to take me a long time to do what I’m going to do to you,” he whispered in my ear. “Unfortunately, you look like a screamer. And we can’t be interrupted now can we?” He lowered me to my feet. “If I find you alone, you’re dead.” Dropping me, he walked away and didn’t look back as his buddies congratulated him for kicking the ass of a kid two years his junior. I wiped the blood from my nose, anger and fury boiling whatever fear and embarrassment I should have felt into nothing. I stormed into the gym, threw my backpack across the room, tore my shirt off, and practically demanded that Coach make this a day to remember. He did his best to comply, but within a few minutes couldn’t help but wonder if something was up. “What the hell’s wrong with you boy?” he asked sincerely as I wiped tears from my eyes after a particularly daunting set with the huge tire. I wasn’t crying, I told myself. The tears just came out with the strain of the last set. “Nothing,” I said mechanically. “What’s next?” That night, terrified and exhausted, I came home to find a letter on my bed. It was addressed to me with postage paid but there was no return address. Opening it, I pulled out a large folded sheet of paper that was about the size of a newspaper page when completely opened. On it was a colossal ink handprint, so big that my outstretched hand didn’t even cover the print’s palm. Below the print was a message, written in those familiar, clumsy letters. The message was simple and left me perplexed: Get ready. CHAPTER 8 I read the simple message a dozen times and my eyes kept wandering to that giant handprint. I remembered back to when my parents took me to a sports themed restaurant a couple years earlier. In front were about a dozen iron stands each with a ceramic basketball on its top. The balls each had a recessed imprint in it that replicated exactly the handprint of an NBA star. I remembered putting my hand in Shaquille O’Neal’s impression, amazed that a human could have that large a paw. All I could think at that moment was that this hand could engulf Shaq’s. I put the page down and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It was mid-March and I was now 173…and it was ALL muscle. My arms were over 16” and I was getting closer to 5’10” each day. I’d gained 20 pounds and two inches in height in only one semester. At this rate I’d be 210 and 6” by the beginning of sophomore year! Puberty was easily my favorite thing in the world…besides the feel of lifting heavy iron of course. I had actual pecs, not just bumps above my abs, and could bounce them like a real jock could. My abs were deep and veins were starting to show as they faded into my waist. They were also starting to appear on my arms and shoulders. I wasn’t huge, but I’d seen pictures of famous bodybuilders when they were my age and I could have held my own with any of them…well, most of them. Some of them. Anyway, I was easily the most built freshman in the school even if not the biggest. But there was a shadow over that celebration: Jesse was still bigger, and stronger, and was waiting for my guard to drop. Suddenly glum, I put the giant handprint away and grabbed my shirt to put it on. There were still a couple hours until dinner but I didn’t care. I was hungry. Good to hear from you, Casey, I thought as I shut the door behind me. * * * “Son, for god’s sake, slow down and leave some food for the rest of us.” That was my dad. He didn’t seem to like that I’d taken four steaks from the plate we were passing around. “Sorry,” I said, putting one back on the serving platter. My mom signed, but not in a negative way. “Guess we need to start cooking even more for you,” she said. My parents had grown accustomed to me eating three times what they ate in a given meal and prepared accordingly. My dad wasn’t as nonchalant about it as my mom. “I swear,” he said as he put the steak I just forfeited on his plate. “I remember eating a lot in high school but not this much.” “Oh come on Daryl,” my mom told him with a grin. “He’s exercising a lot. You didn’t touch a weight until college, and even then didn’t take it too seriously. We have a growing boy, so let him grow.” My dad just shrugged and started eating. I allowed myself to smile a little, relishing at how my upper arm was pushing against my sleeves. It was nice being the only child; I got their full attention and they didn’t like trekking into uncomfortable conversations. It wasn’t that I was starving, I just wanted food. Before dinner was over, I was able to convince each of my parents to give me half of their steak. 178, the scale said after dinner. I knew five pounds of that was in my digestive track but it was fun to imagine that I actually gained it in muscle. I took of my clothes, gave myself a quick pose in the mirror (laughing at the gut dinner had given me), then went to bed. It was only eight, but I was tired and there wasn’t anything left to eat. * * * I woke up to my alarm the next morning at 630, feeling as if I’d only slept an hour instead of the more than ten I’d actually clocked. I guess too much sleep isn’t such a good thing. I rolled out of bed and groggily made my way to the shower. I yawned at the mirror instead of giving it a good pose as I was accustomed to doing and turned the water on. The hot stream did a good job waking me up and by the time I started lathering I felt somewhat normal again. The cow I’d eaten the night before had apparently made its way from my stomach, for my abs were flat and hard again. I smiled at how weak they were a mere ten weeks earlier. These bulging discs could have stopped a truck. I toweled off and finished my morning routine which always concluded with a date on the scale. My jaw dropped. 177. Naked, emptied, and hungry, I was 177. Four pounds more than before dinner the night before! My heart thumped in my chest and my stomach jumped. I looked in the mirror, wondering if I’d had the biggest case of water retention in history. But I was just as ripped as always, if not a little more so. A quick measurement proved I was just a little bigger all over. My waist was still 29,” but my arms were now a little over my usual 16” and my chest was now over 41” where it was normally just below that mark. I threw the tape measure down and barked a laugh. What’s normal anyway? I thought. My “normal” hadn’t lasted more than a week lately with the way I’d been growing. Why question a good thing? I put on my standard sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts that just showed the bulge of my quads before disappearing under the hem. As I did every morning, I cracked six eggs in a skillet and put as many slices of bread in the toaster. Coming back to the eggs, I shrugged and threw the remaining six in as well. “We need more eggs!” I shouted to my parents upstairs, their response unintelligible but probably having something to do with saying they just bought some. While eating my morning feast, I began making lunch…sort of. Instead of my usual two sandwiches, I just threw the two pounds of bagged deli meat right into my cooler along with a few other random treats from the fridge. To my backpack I added an entire half loaf of bread, the whole box of protein bars instead of two, five bananas instead of one, and a pack of MuscleMilk I usually reserved for midnight hunger strikes. “Mom, we’re out of lunch food,” I said, throwing away the milk carton I’d just emptied. “Can I take a few dollars from your purse for lunch?” That wasn’t exactly the truth as I hadn’t really eaten anything yet, but it got the response I needed. After a distant approval from upstairs, I took a ten from my mom’s wallet and headed off to school, already eating one of the protein bars. That day had a familiar feel to it, although I couldn’t quite place why. It started off pretty normally with me joining my friends in front of the school. It wasn’t unusual to get one or two comments about my growing body and today was no different. “Fuck man,” my buddy Graham said as I approached while eating my forth protein bar and washed it down with the last swallow of water from the gallon jug I always walked around with. “You have GOT to get me into those training sessions Coach Roid is giving you.” He paused. “He’s not sharing his stash with you, is he?” he whispered. I was a little confused. Graham was a year older than me and was, if anything, the bigger of the two of us. I made a quick and, hopefully, subtle comparison of both our exposed arms and was pleasantly surprised to find out that mine was actually bigger. I grinned when I realized he’d noticed me looking and was flexing his hanging arm in a vain attempt to win this impromptu contest. I went ahead a flexed mine too, shooting my triceps up into a striated horseshow and making the veins on by bicep bulge. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. “He’s kept me clean,” I said as I walked by. “Maybe we can get you involved in the fall. I’ll be right back, I need to fill up my water bottle.” The day started without much to talk about, other than being scolded by Mrs. Krebs in first period for eating during class. I sighed and put my half eaten back of turkey away. Although I wasn’t necessarily hungry, I craved food. The other teachers, thankfully, weren’t as strict about eating in the class and before long I realized I really would need the ten dollars my mom had given me. As first period became second, I was starting to get a little curious at the increased level of attention I was getting. It was all passive, no one actually talking to me, and I went to the bathroom a couple times to make sure my hair wasn’t stuck up and face was free of food. As second period moved into third, I strangely felt like I’d just finished the most insane workout of my life; my muscles were so pumped. Raising food to my mouth made my forearms squeeze against my biceps in a way they hadn’t before. By lunch, the feeling was even more intense. “Wow, I can actually see your abs through your shirt,” Carla said as she sat down with her tray. I looked down, wondering what she was talking about. She was right, my stomach pressed against my shirt tightly enough to show the ridges of my abdominal muscles. I’d been eating a lot that day so it didn’t really surprise me. What surprised me was that my chest was pressing against the fabric enough to make my cotton shirt look like form-fitting Under Armor. The shirt was hardly oversized to begin with, being a medium, but I knew it took some serious bulk to stretch it like that. All I could do was shrug. “Guess I’m getting a little fat,” I said as I took a bite of the burger I just purchased. Carla snorted, as did the rest of my friends. It was a strangely quiet and awkward lunch. I didn’t think much of it at first, absorbed as I was in eating. However, as I finished my meal, I realized everyone was looking at me. “What?” I asked innocently. They all looked at each other uncomfortably, none speaking until Jeremy Durst finally broke the silence. “Dude, you’re fucking huge,” he said simply. Everyone else rushed to confirm his comment and began asking questions. “So how big are your arms now?” Amanda asked. “About sixteen inches,” I said as I flexed it for the group. Most at the table wouldn’t know a 16 inch arm from a 6, but the few who’d spent any time in the weight room were quick to correct. “If those are sixteen inches, then mind can’t be over twelve,” Chandler said. I looked at my flexed arm, legitimately surprised as I took it in. It looked like a bodybuilder’s arm. A real bodybuilder. It was covered in veins and striations as it bulged from my arm like a softball. Chandler was right; they looked more like 17 inchers, or even 18. I smiled, finally letting the little voice I liked to ignore speak. It happened like this last time, sitting at this very lunch table. My stomach leaped into my chest as a rush of energy cascaded across my body. This is what happened to Casey. My heart fluttered and I suddenly felt invincible. Finally concentrating on something other than food and how to get more, I looked down at myself. It was like I was looking at someone else’s body. I gathered the rest of my burgers and threw them in my backpack before getting up. “I gotta go,” I said simply and left the table. I raced down the walkway, relishing at the feeling of my strong legs pulsing against the ground. I was easily over 180 now. What must I weight now? 185? 190? I laughed as I entered the school gym, rushed past the empty weight room, and went into the locker room. I stared at the scale as if it were a trophy and imagined it wreathed in a golden aura with angels singing. It was absurd but I was in that kind of mood. I stepped on and began sliding the manual adjustors, the course adjust to 150, and the fine adjust past 177…this morning’s weight. I kept sliding the marker past 180 and the bar didn’t move. My stomach leaped again as I pushed it past 190 and still the bar didn’t budge. “Oh shit,” I said, suddenly a little worried. I’m over 190 pounds! I screamed to myself, heart pounding. The bar finally broke to the neutral position at 196 pounds. Shocked, I turned and looked at the mirror. The man staring back at me could have won a collegiate bodybuilding contest. Striated shoulders bulged from my sleeveless shirt like melons, falling into triangles as they morphed into a ripped set of biceps and triceps. My traps pressed against my now humorously tight shirt and my neck looked like an oak trunk, well over 18” around. I tore off my shirt, revealing a pair of gorged pecs and the best set of abs I’d ever seen…on anybody. Ever. They looked carved from granite even though they weren’t flexed. I turned and looked over my shoulder towards the mirror, shocked at the rippling back I now called my own. It was a dream come true. I heard a creak from the door I used to enter and turned towards it. My heart sank. There was Jesse Strand, always reliably there to squash my best moods. That little voice started talking again, though, just as Jesse himself started to speak. “Look like we’re finally alone, fucker,” he said as he closed the door and locked it. “Looks like we can finally settle the score,” he began as he turned to look at me. His eyes widened in shock. “WHAT THE FUCK?” I was on him in an instant. He had put on a little mass this semester and was maybe at 215. I was “only” 196 but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on me. I knew I was a long shot from winning a fight with a star wrestler and had to settle this fast. If he had a moment to think, he’d have me. I punched him in the sternum, taking his breath away, then slammed the back of his head against a locker. He crumpled, gasping for air. I bent over as I grabbed hair on the back of his head and got right in front of his red face and hate-filled eyes. “Don’t you ever even look at me again,” I said before standing back up. I grabbed my shirt and started putting it on as I left locker room. I didn’t worry about him getting back at me; by the time he had a chance for revenge, I would be big enough to fold him into a pretzel. CHAPTER 9 The rest of the day was a blur. I couldn’t wait to show up in front of Coach Rodriguez looking like a teen titan. I barely noticed the stares and compliments from my classmates. My teachers could have gotten on their desk and danced the robot and I wouldn’t have noticed. Now that I knew I was growing, my body was all I could focus on. I felt strong and hard but the real rush came from knowing that I had complete control. I could be as big as I wanted; whenever I wanted. If I so desired, I could be 300 pounds in a few weeks! Who could say that? Who had such power? Even though I stopped my constant eating binge, I continued to swell until my lunch finally digested. The difference in my size between lunch and the end of school that day was visually negligible, but I could feel my skin slowly tightening across my body. It was like the best pump I’d ever had times ten. Hidden under my internal joy, however, was a slowly growing concern. They took Casey away because of this. Of course, at the time he’d been about 7’ and 450 lbs at that point with no signs of slowing down. That hand print alone proved he was bigger now. What would happen to me? I shook my head to clear it. Truth was, I wasn’t 450 pounds, I was will under 200. There were other freshmen as big as me walking around...although a little voice chimed in that most 200 pound fifteen year olds were probably a bit on the chunky side and not a chiseled slab of marble. I smiled at that thought but my thoughts quickly turned again. What would my parents say? I had begun to suspect they knew the events surrounding Casey’s situation in better detail than I did. What would they do when they found out their son grew almost twenty pounds in a day? Twenty pounds. Damn it felt good to know that. I was living in perpetual excitement, like a kid on Christmas morning continuously discovering there were more and more presents under the tree to open. My spirit lifted. If things got out of control, I could take some of the pills Casey left behind. It was obvious to me now those pills were used to reign in his growth, not help it. The doctors didn’t want a muscle mutant running loose but apparently neglected to take into account the habits of a teenager. I put my hand under my shirt on my way to the gym, feeling my new body and amazed at how hard the human form could be. The thought of taking those pills instantly vaporized. I would be giving any of this up, I would just have to keep it slow. Too late for that, squirt, I heard Coach Rod’s voice say. I groaned a little bit. If anyone would question my new size, it would be him. And he would know. I had to think of something. Fast. * * * “Well congratulations, boy,” Coach Rod said as he looked down at me from over the bar. “You just broke your personal best.” He might as well have told me I had brown hair. There was no excitement in his voice. I’d just benched 265 pounds eight times. A day earlier I couldn’t have bench 250 more than once. We’d been working out for 15 minutes and I was breaking personal records left and right even while holding back. I thought Coach would be thrilled, yet he had no energy. In fact, he sounded disappointed. I was at a loss as to why. It couldn’t have been my unusual workout outfit could it? I’d shown up to the session dressed in an extra large PE shirt and basketball shorts. That was my master plan to keep my size gains secret. That, and hiding the full extent of my newfound strength. Normally I wore a more flimsy pair of gym shorts and, like the rest of the guys in the room, was topless more often than not. He had had commented on the fashion choice when we first started but there wasn’t this resentment in his voice when he did. “Pullups,” Coach said, eyes dark under his furrowed brow. No, he mustn’t be feeling well. I smiled. I’ll give him something to feel good about. I jumped up to the bar and started cranking out pull-ups. Although he’d kicked my ass on this bar numerous times over the last couple months, nothing compared to that first day he made me do one hundred of them in one set. Well, I’d show him how easy it was for me now. I finished a hundred pull-ups in less than five minutes before jumping back down. My lats and biceps were on fire and felt ready to burst from my skin. It felt amazing. That said, I was barely winded and felt like I could do a hundred more if pressed. I smiled at him, waiting for praise or at least a scathing remark or two. He only stared at me with those cold bombardier eyes. I couldn’t take it any longer. “What’s wrong, Coach?” I asked, almost whiningly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s wrong?!” He threw his hands up as if begging the heavens for some lightning bolts to sling. “Where’s the fucking energy? Where’s the drive? You’re treating this session like a walk in the park.” He looked at me, eyes angry. “You’re not even fucking sweating. You…you’re wasting my fucking time.” My jaw dropped. This was not what I expected. Everyone’s eyes were on the two of us, his face red with anger, mine with confusion and shame. He was right, I had intentionally held back so he wouldn’t suspect something was up. It didn’t occur to me my results didn’t matter to him, only my effort. I felt my stomach sink. “Coach, I—“ I began before being cut off. “No excuses,” Coach said. “You come here to be worked and that’s final.” He put his hand on my shoulder in a rare moment of tenderness. “I mean I—“ he cut off sharply as he looked at the hand he just put on me. He squeezed it a moment, moved his hand to my arm, then squeezed that too. His eyebrows shot up and a cascade of wrinkles sprouted up his forehead and halfway around his shaved scalp. He looked around to the other gymrats in the room. “Alright ladies,” he bellowed loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Gym’s closed for the day. Get out.” The crowd wasn’t happy about that but didn’t dally as they left. All the while coach held my arm tightly, erasing any idea that he meant for me to leave too. Once the door shut behind the last student, coach exhaled and let go of my arm as he turned to me. “Alright, take the fucking shirt off,” he said as he crossed his arms. Although part of me was frightened of the ramifications, a bigger part just wanted to show off. I pulled the oversized tee off and gave the coach an eye full. To call the coach a one-dimensional man would be a crass understatement. The man had two emotions: in-your-face angry and asleep…and I’d never seen him sleep. Apparently he had another state in his repertoire. I think it was shock but I couldn’t be sure. I looked at the mirror to see what Coach Rod saw. The reflection staring back at me was hardly inhuman, but to find my proportions on a fifteen year old was unheard of. “Oh shit,” Coach said. “You too?” I turned to him, trying to think of an excuse that would subdue his horror. However, when I looked at him, horror wasn’t even on the menu. Behind the surprise still so evident on his face was what could only be called excitement. His eyes literally twinkled with it. Any doubt the twinkle was something else was crushed when he smiled and said, “So how big are you going to get?” I was at a loss for words. All I could do was stutter. “Calm down, son,” Coach said as he backed away to get a better look at me. “I mean, hell, I thought you were bigger when you walked in the room. And taller for that matter. I’m just glad I’m not crazy. Your friends little…episode…a couple of months ago shook me up a little.” He turned me towards the mirror and we looked at our side-by-side reflections. Standing next to a 6’2 250 pound man didn’t make me look all that big by comparison but, with the overhead lighting setting a dark shadow over each crevice of my body, I was about as defined as a person could be. “Come on,” he said, genuinely excited. “Let’s see what your new body can really do. No holding back this time.” He walked over to the bench. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Afterwards, you can tell me what badass supplement you’re using to get that big.” Coach and I learned exactly what my new body could do. I ended up benching 420 pounds and squatted 500. As could be imagined, every lift resulted in a new personal best. “Fuck yeah!” I roared as I dropped the bar to the floor after a 400 pound deadlift. I threw my arms over my head, relishing the pump that covered my body. My skin was pulled taught over every inch of my body. It was always a shock catching glimpses of myself in the mirror, that body surely belonged to someone else. “Fifteen years old,” coach said, mostly to himself. He shook his head. “I have to check something,” I said, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. Something he said earlier had me curious. I started for the locker room, wondering at how the cool breeze of the fan felt on my bulging body. I walked over to the scale, removed my shoes, and took the height caliper up from the base. It was time to see how tall I really was. “5’11,” Coach said over my shoulder. He’d apparently found a measuring tape and didn’t give me a choice as he started measuring my body. My waist was an incredibly taught 31” and my swollen arms had ballooned up to 18”…albeit with the pump of a recent workout included. My chest came in at 45.” “How’d ya do it, boy?” Coach asked, eyes burning. I pushed down the panic. Truth was, I had no idea how I did it. The blood experiment had obviously failed. I searched my mind furiously for an answer. He saw something in my eyes and raised both his hands in a surrendering gesture. “All right, all right. It’s none of my business,” he said. I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I wasn’t going to be sent to a hospital or something. Still, there was something else in coach’s eyes that wasn’t anger or disappointment. I couldn’t quite place it. “Listen,” he said, giving my shirt back to me. “I haven’t been fifteen since before your parents probably were, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it’s like. I know what’s going on in your head right now.” He looked at my reflection in the mirror. “I’m not made for long lectures, which is why I teach here instead of a classroom, but you be smart now, ya hear? I don’t want to have to escort another giant on a one way trip to some government hamster cage.” I put the shirt back on, trying to figure out what the coach was saying. Then my eyes widened. “You know where Casey is?” I said more than asked. Coach looked at me from the corner of his eye. “We both have our secrets, kid,” he said simply before turning away. “See you on Monday.” I took the long way home in part to avoid an incensed Jesse but also to get my thoughts straight. Why now? It had been eight weeks since I used Casey’s blood. Was this sudden growth because of something else? My mind wondered and was hit by a truck when it considered the night before. The handprint, I thought to myself. Casey laced the letter with something. The message even alluded to it. “Get Ready,” it had said. I started growing that very night. I smiled and closed my eyes with my face up towards the warm spring sun. Thank you, Casey, I thought. A second later, I had my shirt off and in hand as I walked the rest of the way home. The rays set off my body with shadow and light, showing off my form in extreme detail. This body was completely and wonderfully alien to the one I had less than 24 hour earlier. My arms were pushed out by and constantly brushed upon lats that swelled from my back. There was a noticeable weight to my chest, as if gravity were paying special attention to my pecs. I didn’t even need to touch my abs to know how hard they were; they felt like a sheet of armor even from the inside. They were tight and hard even while relaxed. Every movement of my body made a muscle squeeze, some I didn’t even know I’d had. It felt amazing. A car horn broke my concentration and the sound of screeching tires made me turn towards the street I was walking next to. A few seconds of investigation revealed that someone was trying to get a longer look at me and slowed down. The person behind him wanted to do the same…without slowing down. I smiled even wider. I was quite a distraction. I got home a couple hours before my parents as usual, and tried my best to find clothes that hid my size. It was hard to do, since every glance in the mirror resulted in me stripping down to take a look at myself. All the while I was trying to make a plan. I couldn’t keep eating my way to becoming a giant like Casey… although my mind wasn’t as adamant about that rule as I would have liked. The thought of growing huge exhilarated me but my rational mind said I had a whole life to see how big I could get. I didn’t need to grow all at once…right? One thing all the voices in my head agreed to was that I needed to be a match for Jesse Strand. I couldn’t count on a surprise attack every time he wanted to take me down. If I could put on another fifteen or twenty pounds, I wouldn’t be such easy prey. Truth be told, I thought as I looked as my reflection with clothes on, I’m really not that big. Oh, I was jacked all right. But muscle is denser than fat and I looked perfectly normal with a nice baggy shirt and shorts on. Well, normal if you ignored the fact that my neck looked like it belonged on a horse…and my forearms bulged like a seasoned bodybuilder’s…and my calves looked carved from granite. Other than that, though, perfectly normal. I considered the whole package Casey left me back in January. Aside from the blood, he left his entire supply of what I referred to as Wuss Pills. Putting a few of those in Jesse’s meals on a daily basis would solve my problem: a few weeks of that and he’d probably have lost 30 pounds. I immediately discarded that idea. For one, it’s not like I had access to his food or water on a regular basis. And two…I wanted a fucking reason to put on more size. So it was settled, I would shoot for 215 pounds in six weeks. That was about a half pound a day. If I overshot, I’d take a pill. Simple as that…although the mere thought of one of those pills made me want to gag. My first step was maintaining a normal rapport with my parents through the whole thing. This proved easier than I thought and I finally began to understand how parents of psychos could end up saying “I had no idea he was capable of that.” Both commented about how big I was getting but neither cared to entertain that something might be wrong with their baby boy. My dad looked a little suspicious at times but I didn’t ever give him a reason to say anything. Besides, what father didn’t want their son to become a stud? So my plan worked perfectly…for a while. It turns out I actually didn’t have to eat much to gain weight. It was like my body became a high efficiency engine. 3000 calories a day was enough to gain my half pound. I actually had to consume less than I was used to. It was the best few weeks of my life: every day my clothes were a little tighter, my body a little harder. It was too small for anyone to see day-to-day but I found out people had longer memory spans than the previous 24 hours. “What are those things measuring now?” Chandler said in front of school one day. “A little over eighteen,” I said shooting him a bicep flex that stretched the seam of my shirt. He snickered, jealousy flashing behind the eyes of a friend who once outweighed me by five pounds or so. “Weren’t they a little under eighteen only a week ago?” “What can I say?” I asked with a smile. “I’m a growing boy.” Those admittedly frustrating responses had the desired effect of redirecting their focus to admiration instead of questioning. My workouts with Coach Rodrigues continued as always, only now every day consisted of a personal best in one lift or another. The man acted as if everything was normal, but he still had that distant look in his eyes I couldn’t quite make sense of. Three weeks into “Project Mass” and I was 207 pounds of granite and steel. Life was bliss…then came a Friday morning in late May, almost six weeks after my initial run-in with Jesse strand. The morning started off like usual with me walking up the schools front lawn to hang out with my friends before first bell. I made sure I ignored the stares I got as I learned making eye contact with my fan base only made them uncomfortable. A couple minutes before class started, I noticed my friends suddenly stare worriedly over my shoulder right as a hand violently grabbed my neck from behind and threw me to the ground. I gasped at the jarring pain from my back as my backpack broke my fall. I didn’t have time to gather my bearings before two solid hands grabbed me by the collar and yanked me to my feet. Two familiar eyes burned a few inches from my face. “We meet again, you little fuck,” Jesse said to me, his voice surprisingly baritone. He had avoided me since I sucker punched him in the locker room. I’d only seen glimpses of him since between periods which was ok by me. Now up close, I gasped. Dressed in a skin tight wifebeater, the man in front of me was not the buff but meaty junior he was three weeks earlier. Apparently, he’d been hard at work during that month long hiatus. Jesse has always been big and no one would have ever called him fat. But there had been a beefiness to him common to teens focused on mass. It isn’t common for a high school kid to be both shredded and massive. That kind of combo usually wasn’t possible until college…unless you were me. Jesse apparently found a recipe. Although still about 220, his meaty arms were now ripped boulders covered with flaring veins crawling that exploded from his strained shirt sleeves. His neck was as vascular as mine, only more bulbous and with mountainous traps rising up to the base of his skull. His pecs and abs bulged from beneath the tight cotton shirt. I was no slouch being only fifteen or so pounds lighter, but Jesse was a fighter and had the edge in both size and skill. He pulled me close, as he seemed so keen on doing every time we had these little chit-chats. “We’re doing this old school,” he said with an evil grin loud enough for everyone to hear. “You and me, after the final bell, under the overpass. We’re settling this.” Then he dropped me. That I remained on my feet was only a slight victory. Jesse barely seemed to notice as he sneered before walking away. The lawn was as quiet as a graveyard as I straightened my ruffled shirt. “I’ll be there,” I said to his back. That sent all the mouths in the area ablaze with whispers. I’m sure everyone thought I was terrified, which I most certainly was. Jesse’s absence from my life these last weeks were a gift I didn’t question. I’d just assumed my locker room sucker punch convinced him I shouldn’t be messed with. Now I new better; guys like him didn’t cower, they hunkered down. He’d apparently spent the last weeks completely dedicated to bulking up. Who knows what kind of steroids that kid has to use to look like that? I allowed a smile to stretch my lips as the first bell rang and all the students and their gossip-riddled voices walked into the school. I stayed put for a moment, letting everyone disappear, then immediately walked off campus. * * * A few hours later I stood looking like a fool in a newly bought XXL long sleeve shirt and sweat pants at the door of a Chinese buffet, feeling somewhat guilty about the financial ruin I was about to submit on the proprietor. Eleven am hit, the door was unlocked, and I sauntered inside looking like a nursing home pimp. I was relieved that no one questioned why a kid my age was at a restaurant instead of school. That probably said something about American values but I didn’t dwell on it. I was there for one thing and two minutes later I was at my table with two plates piled high with food. I mentally felt my body, currently dwarfed in my tent of an outfit. A few weeks ago I would have considered myself visual perfect. Anyone of any age would have killed for the body I had. Yet I wanted more. I looked at the food and dove in; beginning what I figured would be the longest lunch of my life. I went through plate after plate after plate. After my second helping, my body started to feel flushed and an anxious feeling started to flow through me. It was as if I were drinking liquid excitement. The feeling intensified and I soon felt as if I could run a marathon in ten minutes. I almost tried; it was hard to contain myself. My energy levels soared and it took an effort not to jump out of my seat. I wanted to laugh in delight. Soon after, my body started to feel funny. It was as if my muscles were tight from sitting still too long. As I continued to eat, I did things like shrug my shoulders and stretch my calf by raising the front of my foot. It seemed to help so I kept at it, ignoring the looks I was getting from the other customers. They must have thought I was on something. In a way, I guess I was. I tensed my abs and arched my back, then pumped my chest and arms. Soon the excited feeling in my body began to feel strangely similar to an orgasm, only prolonged as if continuously on the verge. I flexed my calves; worked my leg up and down to cycle my thighs; twitched my arms and pecs; shrugged my shoulders again. Every time I flexed, it felt like my muscles relax a little before slowly tightening up again. That feeling of excitement didn’t go away though; neither did my desire to eat. I never got full. I got another helping. As I got up to collect my forth helping, I almost stumbled for no apparent reason. It was if I had to rebalance myself. I exaggerated my step, squeezing my glutes and flexing my quads and calves. It felt amazing. I felt something else too. The fabric of my sweats didn’t feel as baggy anymore. Bending my arm as I held my plate seemed to pull at the fabric on my back. I also felt my arm bulge against my inner arm in a way I hadn’t before. I smiled. There was no doubt about it, I was growing. CHAPTER 10 I sat calmly on a natural outcrop of stone under the overpass, waiting for my eventual showdown with Jesse. School was still technically in session but a trickle of students was already making its way from down the road. If I was lucky, this would all be over in time to train with Coach Rod. He might find my new developments…interesting. Although a hundred cars sped across the interstate overhead, the span beneath it was isolated, known only to the homeless, the addicted, and the kids from the local high school…not a place any of our parents would approve of. Everyone congregating at the base of my castle did their best to leave me alone as I sat stoically in my long sleeve hoodie and sweatpants. A dead man didn’t like to be disturbed. I smiled at this but remained at a distance; no need to ruin the surprise. I was still taking it in myself. The me of eight hours ago would have worshiped the person I’d become. I felt heavy; I felt powerful. I half believed I could rip the ten foot high granite mound I was sitting on out of the ground with my bare hands. My new muscles yearned to be used and it was a demand I found extremely hard not to obey. This must be what a tiger felt like waiting to pounce on his prey…only my prey wasn’t here yet. I was accompanied only by my thoughts, which were scattering across my mind like swarming ants. I found myself wondering if this was a dream. I flexed my arm, watching it fill my baggy sleeve like a balloon. I could see every crevice and striation through the fabric, even the cable-like vein which ran down the face of my bicep. But it wasn’t the sight that thrilled me, it was the feel. The feeling of that bulging ball of muscle squeezing against itself was like having sex; it was impossible to describe the chemical rush that it created. This couldn’t be real. But it was. And it was amazing. But those ants that raced through my mind were calling out in terrified little voices. They’d started to scream their warnings while I was at the restaurant and hadn’t died down. Something wasn’t right. I shook my head, what could be wrong? I had to outweigh Jesse by 40 pounds now and I was strangely positive that I was even stronger than I looked. I worked my hand, balling them into fists then opening them and spreading my fingers wide. They wanted to hit something so bad. I’d give them their wish by allowing them to break Jesse like a twig…again. But that worry remained, unfocused yet intensifying. Meanwhile, a small crowd had assembled at the base of the stone, forming an impromptu circle in the middle. Situations like this were probably among the most primitive displays of humanity, right up there with public executions and anyone who’s last name was Kardashian. But just as with those latter examples, people flocked like lemmings to witness this happen. I noticed my friend Chandler walking up the crag towards me, his face lined with worry. He wore a tight green t-shirt, showing off what most would have considered a nice body for a sophomore. It was lean and ripped in the style so popular these days. I could curl him with one arm, I thought with a smile. “Dude,” Chandler said as he reached me and turned to look at the crowd. “Everyone noticed you weren’t at school today. There were rumors you were going to puss out.” I chuckled and remained seated with my arms resting on my kneecaps and hands dangling between them. My friend was barely six feet away; would he notice I was bigger? “I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Chandler said as he looked back at me. “I’d have shit my pants twice already. Anyway, Jesse wasn’t at school today either. He left soon after first period. Maybe he was looking for you to make sure you didn’t try to run away.” I shrugged but something in what he’d said sent mind boiling all the more. What made you grow? my brain suddenly asked me. I began to reply that the letter with the handprint had been laced with something but, suddenly, I wasn’t so sure. Chandler apparently took my silence as a request to keep talking, which he did. “You may have bulked up enough to convince the freshman class you’re some kind of god but but Jesse’s easily the strongest guy in school and that was before he started looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger.” He coughed in his hand and wiped whatever came out of his mouth on his pant leg. “Fuck me, I’ve been fighting this cold for weeks now.” I raised my head, heart racing. “What did you say?” I asked, slightly shocked at the new baritone of my voice. I wasn’t the only one caught off guard; Chandler was looking at me like I had two heads. “You all right?” Chandler asked. “You sound like you have a cold too.” I started to say something I hoped would put my friend at ease but the competing and overlapping little voices suddenly found a unified message and the floodgates opened. I did catch a cold, I thought feverishly. It just took a while to show all the symptoms. That’s how colds work. They gestate, then attack. I grunted in frustration and again flexed my arm, allowing it to swell and pull my sleeves tight. How had it not crossed my mind earlier? There was no chemical laced hand print. The mere thought of that seeming logical was absurd. “Holy fuck,” I heard Chandler say but ignored him. I wasn’t doing a good job hiding my size at the moment and didn’t care. It wasn’t the handprint; it was Casey’s blood after all. It just took a few weeks to take effect. Puzzle pieces I’d subconsciously kept separated until now finally locked into place. Casey had a disease and they fixed it with another disease. Now I had that disease…so the disease was contagious. “We gotta go,” Chandler said, his voice shaking. “You have to GO!” I stayed put but looked up. The crowd at the base of the hill was looking up at me and slowly backing up, their faces a sea of surprise. Did they suddenly notice how much bigger I’d gotten too? You have a contagious disease! my mind screamed, pulling my concentration inward again. I had a disease that took weeks to show all of its symptoms. I put my hands on my head, trying to force my brain to just spit it out. So what? I thought. No one injected my blood into their ass cheek. Suddenly a terrible thought came to mind that made my whole body tense. I heard a tearing sound, barely noticing that my bicep had ripped through the sleeve. I looked up at Chandler, who I realized had raced down the hill to join the others in their retreat. Why were they running? It didn’t matter; nothing mattered now. The terrible thought had turned into a terrible memory… Jesse, now in a white sleeveless shirt that showed just how big his arms were, filled my view. I could hear the hoots and laughter of his friends behind him. “Let’s just say that love pat was the least you deserved.” Then he did something I had no idea would be as humiliating as it was: he spit in my face. My mind churned with rage and before I could even think about it, I shot a bloody wad of spit right in his eye. …By body ran cold and I felt myself shake. He didn’t need to inject himself; I’d given it to him for free all those weeks ago. I knew the transfer of some strange disease through a bloody wad of spit was highly unlikely, but in my heart I knew it had happened. It explained how he’d turned into such a jacked teen in only a few weeks. More puzzle pieces fell into place. He knew what he was suddenly capable of, I thought. That’s why he wanted to do this after school. He needed time. Time to do the same thing I had done. Only he took everything to the extreme. I have to get out of here, I thought frantically. Now! I looked up at the crowd, all of whom were either running away or still looking up and slowly backing away. It had only been a couple seconds since Chandler’s innocent cough triggered this rush of enlightenment but many in the crowd were already gone. “What the—“ I started to say out loud before the second dreaded realization slammed home. The dispersing crowd wasn’t looking up at me. Their eyes were too high. They were looking behind me. I stood up cursing, stumbling as I tried to turn at the same time. The effort resulted in me falling back against the rock. I looked up and finally saw what had forced Chandler and everyone else to scatter. Jesse, clad in nothing but skin, had made his way up the back of the stone heap, and he made my last image of Casey look like a wimp. I didn’t know what the giant in front of me weighed? How much does a bus weigh? The new Jesse had to be a head above seven feet tall. His face was void of any youth he once had, the baby fat now replaced by hard muscular lines. His neck, as big around as some people’s waist, was a bundle of writhing snakes of muscle and sat upon traps that started at the base of his skull and bulged like watermelons to striated shoulders the size of pumpkins. His arms, which looked over 30” around, flared to the side to make room for a set of traps that could double as wings. Pecs as thick as my head bulged from his body and sat atop a cascade of abdominals that could have been mistaken for masonry bricks. A dick the size of my forearm swung between a set of thighs I wasn’t sure I could wrap my arms around. They tensed and relaxed as Jesse took his final menacing steps up the crag, each one capable of kicking a hole in a brick wall. “Miss me?” he asked, his deep voice booming across the under pass. He reached down before I could react and grabbed me by the neck. His shoulders and arms bulged with all the more power as he lifted me effortlessly up to his eye level. Just like Casey’s before, Jesse’s body wasn’t grossly asymmetric or bubbly like you’d expect from someone so massive. Instead, he was a giant with normal proportions. Whatever this disease was didn’t discriminate by growing only major muscles. The small muscles people couldn’t isolate in weightlifting grew too. He looked like a superhero. Jesse’s eyes inspected me and he barked a laugh as he tore my shirt off with his free hand, revealing my own Olympian body. “Looks like you tried to come prepared,” he snarled as he flexed an arm that was bigger than my head. “But I always beat the other guy when it comes to conditioning.” He drew me close. “I suppose I should thank you for sleeping with my ex-girlfriend. I seemed to have picked up whatever you got…and took it to a place you could only dream of.” If my windpipe weren’t gasping for air, I would have groaned in frustration for forgetting such an obvious form of infection. Was Jenna, the girl in question, also a muscle goddess now? Now was probably not the time to ask that question. Jesse made sure of it. The two of us were alone, the other students scattered now to the wind, Chandler included. I couldn’t blame him. Jesse radiated with power that could crush me without thought. What would such a mentally unstable person do to a much smaller innocent bystander? I found myself wondering how he’s gained so much mass in only eight hours. I’d eaten pretty much non-stop for four before the owners of the Chinese restaurant ushered me out. It didn’t matter. The only question that matters was whether I’d live through the afternoon. I did what any cornered animal does, I kicked and screamed and punched without thought. Every time I made contact with Jesse’s body, I winced in pain. It was like punching a brick wall covered in skin. Jesse grunted in slight discomfort but that wasn’t much of a victory. He responded by squeezing my neck, choking off what little air I had. He laughed as my vision began to blur and head throb. “I can’t have you catching up to me anytime soon,” he said as he took my arm with his free hand and started to bend it awkwardly as if to break it. Pain flared from my elbow and shoulder but seemed distant and diluted as I slowly lost my grip on consciousness. I distantly wondered if his laugh would be the last thing I heard when a series of alien sounds came pouring from the surroundings. I heard Jesse curse and suddenly I was on the ground, performing a strange combo of deep gulps and throaty coughs. My senses were still dull as the world exploded around me. I could make out people coming from random directions, some monsters themselves. I saw Jesse run naked down the same side of the crag he’d just ascended. Apparently these newcomers were big enough or numerous enough to scare him. I got to my knees, still without a full idea of what was happening around me. My head pounded as I ran in the opposite direction from Jesse, not caring if anyone followed as long as I could get away from the monster that nearly killed me. But I must not have been important enough. The sounds slowly faded behind me but I didn’t look back to make sure I was alone until a couple of miles later, when I fell to the ground gasping for breath. “What the fuck?” I said aloud as I got to my knees. Fear still clouded my thoughts but at least I had control of my senses again. My vision had only just recently returned to normal. I had absolutely no idea what just happened and was still scared out of my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my parents. I didn’t care that I knew I was acting like a kid. I was a fucking kid. I turned and made my way home; ignoring the stares and honks I received from passersby. Who were those other people? I didn’t get a good look at them but they may have been as big as Jesse, certainly bigger than me. I looked down at my body, surprised something so amazing could still seem small to me. But it was. I was bigger than Coach Rod now, but that seemed like nothing. I stewed the afternoon’s events as I made my way home, growing gradually calmer but no closer to finding answers. Half an hour later, I was walking up my driveway, only slightly surprised to see my parents’ cars in the driveway. It was only a quarter to five. I didn’t care. There was no hiding what I was now. They’d have to see me sooner or later. I opened the door and walked in, still dressed only in shoes and sweatpants. I instantly saw my mom, sitting on the couch and eyes rimmed with red. She’d been crying. She looked up at me, eyes dull and uncaring at first but growing wide as they dawned with recognition. She moaned. “Mom, I—“ I started but suddenly noticed movement in the room. A man in a tie and slacks stood up from where he was seated next to my mom. Another dressed in a plain black suit and tie with white dress shirt stood in the far corner of the room, seemingly trying to take in the whole room with one look. I stepped back, heart suddenly slamming against my ribcage. What was this? “Jordan Baer?” the man getting up from the couch asked sternly as he started to pull something from his pocket. I nodded, confirming my identity. He nodded back. “I’m Dr. Thornton.” I remembered the name from a conversation with Casey; he was one of the doctors responsible for his miracle cure. “Please sit,” the doctor said calmly as he sat next to my blank faced mother. “We have much to discuss.” THE END
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