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  1. One of the ideas that came to me for Storyversary. Have two other projects, collabs, I'm working on, but needed to get this out of my head first. LOL Hope you enjoy. He Who Protesteth Too Much... by F_R_Eaky "Senator Roberts! You are just a sick SICK man!" bellowed Senator Michael Santini. His little head on his small framed body turning beat red as he looked up to Senator Caleb Roberts. Senator Roberts was a pretty good looking man for being in his mid fifties. His hair was still very thick and lush, vibrant, glistening ebony with streaks and flecks of grey and silver popping through. This sat on a handsome, modelesque face with sparkling blue eyes, and despite him being an older man, enjoyed wearing a beard always only as long or as full as three day old scruff. This hawt looking face sat upon a body that rose to a decent 6' 4" height that was very broad and very thick with muscle. His waist was just starting to give, losing some of its tightness, but currently he only looked like an older style bodybuilder where the waist and abs were the same thickness as his hips. Despite its thickness those abs still poked through with quite some size and definition; he would probably develop one of those off seasoned roid guts. But he wasn't quite as large as a bodybuilder. No... more like a personal trainer, maybe up to a wrestler. Although his hands were large and thick, looking like he had lifted since birth, and his feet were large and manly, thick and long. A size 16. And all of that body covered in thick, feathery, thin hair, just as black and speckled with white and grey as his head was. The body hair covered his chest, abdominals, arms, crotch, and legs completely, but it was so thick one couldn't see the muscular definition he had. Senator Michael Santini on the other hand, was short. Around 5' 4" tall, with a midsection that been developing since he started in politics some 35 years ago. His gut was so round, Senator Roberts often wondered if he pushed Santini over, would Santini simply bounce back up like the ball his gut was. He had the build of a weeble....an oompa-loompa. .. fake orange tan, too. His hair had already gone white and was quite balding. He kept his face perfectly shaven and clean. He had spectacles that partially hid his dulling brown eyes. His large fat jowls quivered and shook whenever he was angry. And tonight he was. "I can't believe you're pushing that mother fucking, damn homo agenda again!." "Michael, I only want equality for us. We have the ability to marry I want to make sure inheritance and hospital visitations and other things hetero sexual couples are entitled to are there for us as well." "It goes against nature. NATURE! It goes against GOD! And how disgusting, you and that man-child of yours." "That's my partner, and he's not a man-child. He's thirty yea...." "He's twenty-five years younger than you. That's not right. It's sickening!" "Well, there's nothing you can do about it. We're married, living in our own house, here in D.C. We don't attend your parties out of respect to you. We don't send you our Christmas cards. Just friggin' deal with it, you decrepit, old, blow-hard!" "OLD! You and I are...." "But no one would know it, would they? You look twenty years older than you are. You hold stuff in, so much anger, another five years and you'll look like the Grim Reaper, himself!" "Well... I reached the end of my rope!" "Good. Let go and fall." "I mean it. I'm not taking any more of your people's shit?" "You know what? I think you need to calm down. Why don't you go cash in your points at 'Whores R Us' this evening?" "YOU BASTARD!" And with that Senator Santini swung his heavy briefcase right into Roberts' groin. Roberts double over in pain, only to meet the briefcase side to face, flipping back over his car's trunk lid. "Are you nuts?!" Apparently the answer was yes, for at that moment, Senator Santini pulled a knife out from his fancy walking stick and attempted to take a jab. However, with Senator Roberts shaking his car a bit, it alerted his bodyguards and they came streaming out of the miniature limo. All of them easily between the 6' 6" to 6' 10" mark, with very well developed musculature that threatened to pop off every chest button from their button up shirts. Quickly one grabbed Senator Santini's hand and wrenched it backwards, forcing the knife to drop from his hand. Santini sputtered and cursed, under the questions the body guards had inquiring if they should call the police or just dump him off by his car. "No..." said Senator Roberts very solemnly. "I, too, have had enough. Me think the man dost protest too much, and we all know what that usually means. ... ... ... I have something better in mind for him. You two, go ice his tires and rip whatever you can get a hold of under the hood. You two hold him right there." Reaching into his car, Senator grabbed something out of his briefcase that looked long, wooden, highly polished, and slightly tapered at one end. Pointing it directly at Senator Santini's crotch, Senator Roberts looked as though he swelled a little larger, became a bit brighter, and then a low whisper came out of his mouth.... "Libido organum mutare te!" There was spark of light that shot out the stick that struck Santini's crotch, made it glow, made his penis and testicles radiate warmth, and then there was nothing. Senator Santini rolled his eyes back a little bit and curled his toes in his shoes as though he were having a slight orgasm. "What.... what have you done to me?" "Let us see exactly what you're made of, Michael. You will have to walk home tonight. I will make sure no one, nothing, will pick you up. You must walk home, and as you do so, this spell will cause your, what I'm sure is a minute pecker and cheerio sized balls, to grow.... the more it grows, the more it will make you grow later, turning you into a true paragon of whatever you are. If you like women, you'll become a good looking, womanizing, younger, middle-aged man again. If you don't... .... .... Well, let's just allow the magic of the universe to do what it wills." And with that two of Roberts bodyguards carried Santini and his briefcase back to his car and let him go. As he watched Roberts' mini-limo leave the garage, Santini swore loud and long many a curse word their direction. Then looking at his car, he spat in disgust, pulled out his keys, threw his briefcase into the passenger floorboard, and then locked the car back up. He first pulled his phone out and attempted to call for help from co-workers, taxis, uber-services; but no one heard him on the other end of the phone. He tried to flag down cars, but folks just drove right by him. He attempted to board a bus and then the subways, but every time he went to sit down in a seat, he'd suddenly be standing at the stop again, while the bus or car pulled away leaving him behind. Finally he gave up and began walking home. He walked briskly, with his head held up, for he knew some of the areas around the Mall were slightly dangerous at night, but if he looked like he knew where he was going, there would be a slightly less chance he'd be attacked. There were a number of couples out taking strolls along the park and he smiled and thought to himself, "As it should be." When, after passing several couples, nothing seemed to happen to him he laughed and thought, "Bastard Roberts tried to make me think that Harry Potter kind of shit was real. Ought to get that kind of stories banned, the damage they do to our children!" Santini rounded a corner and stopped for a moment. He could hear laughter. A male laughing, followed by the sound of a loud smooch. Over and over with the smooch sound. He thought to himself, "Go get her, man. Take her and make love." There was some rustling in some trees and bushes, followed by the sound of another man's voice laughing. Santini stopped in disgust, just in time to see one man falling backwards out of the bush, being caught by the other and pulled back into his arms. They were young, in their twenties. One was very thin and lithe. The other was a little beefier. The heavier one was in a sleeveless muscle shirt, the other in tank that was nearly pulled off his torso. They embraced and kissed fully, hard, and long. Their tongues were exploring each other's oral cavities and checking their tonsils for sure. They suddenly paused and noticed Santini standing there and gasped. Then looking at his face, laughed, looked at each other, and ran down the sidewalk, holding each other's hands. Santini started to mumble something about how unnatural it was but then stopped, struck dumb. A warmth came over his crotch and suddenly he swore he felt his cock ooze out a little more from his body. "I am not getting an erection over that. I despise it!" His balls responded this time swelling just a touch larger. Santini stood there trying to keep control, but it felt as though he might blow a load. Not here.... not in public.... that's so lewd! Just then some men appeared, walking together in a group, and they had their eyes set directly on Santini. He knew they were trouble. He could tell they meant to rob him. Quickly he crossed the street and then once across began to sprint down the side walk. Over his labored breathing he could head the pounding of their footsteps running at top speed and the sound was getting louder, closer. "We just wanna talk to you, man!" "Yeah, help a brother out?" "You look like you have some extra cash you don't need." Most of the men chasing him down were taller than Senator Santini, and much younger, so it didn't take too long before they overtook him. The leader, a man of about six feet in height and around 190 pounds of muscle, dressed in a muscle t-shirt and sleeveless denim vest, with blue jeans that had a severe case of slash marks, flipped Senator Santini around by his shoulders and slammed him, backside, up against a wall. "I really hate those that run!" the gang leader bellowed in Senator Santini's face. "You're gonna stay right where I tell you or you're gonna deal with this!" And with that the young man flexed his right arm in front of Santini's face. Santini's eyes grew wide in fear, not because of the man's ample sized upper arm created by a rising bicep peak or a well formed tricep horseshoe, but because the warmth spread over his groin again and he worried what this man might do if he realized. Realization was inevitable as quickly Santini's snake began to slither out farther from his groin, and as it grew and bunched in his underpants, Santini was unable to silence the moan escaping from his lips. Looking down the leader could see Santini's package filling out a little more. "What the hell? Do I turn you on, you pervert?" The leader didn't have time to hear the answer. The quick wail of a police siren and Santini kneed the man in the groin. Santini then took off running, with a couple of the gang members still following him, others went in different directions, and the rest were detained by the police. With a part of the gang still in pursuit, Santini made his way through various garages and alleyways as well as some well travelled main streets to give the gang the slip. They were however just as keen as the Agency or the Bureau to use cell phones and pairs to keep tabs on him. He could see a pair of them spotting him again as he took off down an alley which, lucky for him, had a couple coming out of a door that was useable by one side only. He ran up past, the couple, and then caught the door behind them. Swinging around he pulled it shut and then turned to face the room he was in. It was a movie theater. "Oh gawd." Santini thought. "This could be saving or the kill." Yes, it was indeed a public place, but they could lay in wait for him outside, or worse yet, come into the theater and sit by that exit door and the seating arena's entrance. He needed to make sure no one else saw him so that they could tell the gang members he was there, in case they said they were "looking for a friend." Being a small man, he ran for the arena entrance and then ducked into a trash bin. His short and lithe frame, well, with a bit of paunch, fit just snuggly, but well, with inside the confines of the box. It worked out well as when the attendants came round, they merely peaked down the top of the garbage bag and saw it wasn't anywhere near to being one-fourth of the way through and so they let it be. Santini exhausted from running, being out of shape, old, and him coming down from the adrenaline rush, soon fell asleep. He woke up to the sound of a movie going. There was sound of breaking glass... or china, raised voices in a heated argument. Gingerly, although not quite as stealthily as he would have hoped, Senator Santini came out from his hiding place. Walking into the seating area, he peered around and above the wall he stuck close to and saw no one was in attendance for this movie's showing. Breathing a sigh of relief, before he began to walk his way home again, he though to rest in the seats for just a moment to ease the tension of his back, shoulders, and neck. "Why are you so angry with me, Ted? And how could you be with Skye?" the movie played out. "Because you left me. You said we were going to do everything together, be everywhere once we got away from our parents and half way through your sophomore year you bailed on our college, on me." "Oh lord..." thought Santini to himself. "All the places I could hide in and this one is showing the movie I wanted banned." "I needed you there, Craig. Even if we didn't stay together, I needed you. I needed your street smarts. Help me navigate coming out to family, introducing and working myself into the gay community, to see who the predators were, the one night stands, the clubs where I'd get my wallet picked clean, the places one could actually have fun, the introduction to... .... ... You left. You lost all those chances. Skyelar came in and helped me, assisted me. He taught me all the code words we use to classify ourselves into this genre or fetish, introduced me to the leather world, the drag world, the bear world, the we just look like plain ordinary men but we love ass world. And the whole time he never made an advance on me. He never thrust me into a situation that was more than I could handle or comprehend. He sat by me during my first morning hangover wipeout. You weren't here. You claimed you loved me, wanted to be with me, yet you missed out on every first. If you had just made some sort of si....." At that point in the movie Craig pulled Ted in and kissed him full and deeply. The kiss lasted for a good three to four minutes. Afterwards, Ted broke free and slapped Craig across the face and punched him on the chest. It was then the pair noticed that Skyelar was in the doorway. Senator Santini looked up in wide-eyed wonderment at the scene that was playing out and he felt something stir inside him - deep inside him. The stirring gave way to a warmth in his groin. "Oh.... no.... no.... no... not here.... NOT HERE!" The growing sensation this time nearly sent Santini flying backwards out of his chair. His hips, buttocks, and groin region raised up in the air and his pecker pushed itself out longer, thicker, than ever before while his balls inflated like a balloon on a helium tank. In a matter of seconds the bulge around Santini's crotch was very noticeable. The movie music cued dramatically as Skyelar punched Craig and then turned to grab Ted. The look was the typical "are you all right" look that is given just before the other person kisses the hero. "No. NO!" The senator burst through the exit door. Damn if the gang is still out there. He'd rather be beaten and stolen from than to watch that movie or have his cock inflated ever longer and with more girth because of it. Hobbling along, Senator Santini continued his walk towards his home. He package was ample enough it caused a little problem with his gate, especially in its balled up state. At about the half way mark from the theater to his home he crossed an intersection known for its "business." In fact the senator had frequently picked up a number of ladies here, some of them becoming favorites and regulars. In his worn out and harried state none of the ladies recognized him and so all were aggressively and openly hitting on him to take him home of the evening. The senator stammered no and pushed the ladies away, albeit politely and tried to continue his walk home. Several ladies joked about him not being a real man, man enough to handle them. That's when another figure stepped out from the shadows. It was man, who stated loudly that may he was too much man for the ladies and needed another man to handle the job. He did this while sliding up very close to the senator and then squeezing the senator's package. "Holy shit! Aren't you a blessed one! My gawd, I think I could either ride you for free or I ought to pay you." Stunned by the comment, Santini looked at the man in all his tight fitting and skin revealing clothing and realized he found the man and his body both attractive and the warming sensation hit his groin once more and the round package now bulged out as though the senator had a softball, perhaps a grapefruit, or something slightly larger, stuffed down the front of his underwear. The man of the corner looked down in absolute awe and bliss and gave Santini a wink. The senator turn and bolted, running for his house once more, although he was constantly racking himself in pain now. Finally he arrived at his house. His wife was still out for the evening at some charity function, so he quickly made his way into his study. Sitting down he poured himself a drink on the rocks, took a sip, and then proceeded to hold the glass to his groin as though cooling down his crotch rocket might help it return to normal. That's when he felt it. The warmth returned to the senator's crotch, but this time it seemed to build up specifically in his prick and then the sensation rose and spread out through his body. "Auuuuugh" He saw the tightness of his shirt around his gut loosen up a bit. He felt his feet become a little more snug in his shoes. His crotch didn't quite feel as heavy as it did a moment before. "Auuuuuugh." It happened again, this time he felt his shoulders spreading out. His arms felt as though they were filling out his sleeves a bit, like they had never ever done so in his life. "Auuuuugh." Again the pulsing and pushing with his cock shrinking? And his body seemed to stretch and grow. His shoes felt as though they had given way for just a bit, but then the leather wrapped around his foot and travelled about three-fourths of the way up his shin. "Ah-oooooooouh!" Again the inverted pulse, the cock apparently shrinking, Santini's body growing outward. His knees were pushing too far under the desk and close to hitting the drawer bottom. He felt something change with his pants. They felt tighter on him and when he moved they caused his leather desk chair to squeak in blurts and blaps that nearly sounded like farting. "Auuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!" His pants became tighter still, and shinier. The waist band wrapped itself around Santini's waist tightly and he could feel like his core was tight, taut, and strong. His arms were being pushed away by something, being lifted up and hanging out. The sleeves on his shirt were nearly form fitting and his shirt had become this billowing poets shirt with ruffley cuffs and collar. "Ah-hooooooooooooo!" Suddenly the Senator felt his hair touch his neck, no, touch his shoulders as a new goodly portion of his bangs fell down in front of his eyes. He felt his chest swell and a button fly off the poet shirt, whose sleeves filled out thicker and rounder from the senator's bulging upper arms and formidable forearms. His thighs and his ass swelled out more and caused the pants, which he knew now were leather, to stretch and tighten, form fit to his legs. While that was going on his calves were pulsing and throbbing, growing in size and density stretching the top of the leather boots he was now wearing and making the tops spread out wider and wider compared to the ankles. Meanwhile below, the front door to the house opened and in came Sylvan Santini, the senator's son. He had a college friend with him and the two giggled and laughed as they came in. "Mom? Dad?" Sylvan called out but there was no answer. No sound. No other lights on. "Perfect. Put your stuff there at the bottom of the stairs. We can take it up whenever we hear the buzz of the garage intercom go off, they won't know you're here yet and I can tell them you're already asleep so they won't argue about you staying here for a visit." "So if we're not going upstairs now to unpack, what are we going to do?" "This...." And with that Sylvan pulled his friend into the formal living room and reception area of the house and then thrust him backwards onto the couch. Sylvan was slightly like his dad, about an inch or two taller at 5' 6" with a slightly chubby body. Nowhere near as much as his dad was, but you knew he wasn't destined to be fit and trim. His mousy brown hair fell in the way of his bland and dull brown eyes as he climbed on top of his friend, Logan, who was a complete opposite of Sylvan. He was an athlete for the college the pair attended, standing 6' 8" and around 295 pounds of muscle, with a boy next door face, perfect smile, topped with a feather mop of strawberry blond hair, and his body covered in a two day, scruffy beard and light colored, feathery hair all over his body. Sylvan leaned over Logan and ran his hands up under Logan's football jersey, his fingers ruffling the feather hair and tracing the mounds and crevices of Logan's abs. He then leaned in a began to give Logan passionate and deep kisses on this lips as Sylvan's hands worked to undo Logan's waist button. "Wait!" Logan gasped. "What if we get caught? Do you want your dad to know? He's like the most anti-gay senator there is in D.C." Sylvan laughed and gave another kiss to Logan. "That's part of what makes this so arousing. The thrill of being caught by my dad. I'd so love to see his expression when he realizes his son is a...." and he did an impersonation of his father, "'...flaming pooftah!'" Meanwhile, upstairs, Senator Santini had had a few more of the pecker shrinking pulses radiate through his body. Having caught a glimpse of himself in the window reflection he bolted upright out of his chair. He couldn't believe how much higher than the desk top his hips, crotch, and buttocks were. He took a few steps and marveled at the large thud his body was making, as if he were a couple, maybe three hundred or more pounds. Looking into a standing mirror he saw how the leather pants now looked painted on, and the boots nearly did as well. The poet shirt was button popped about four buttons down and his chest spread the opening wide and down revealing to large, hairy covered slabs of muscle that were easily larger than any serving tray he had in the house and barreled more than any cask of wine located there, too. His arms no longer hung down at his sides, but almost straight out as though he were imitating the drawing of man by Leonardo DaVinci. The poet shirt only fluttered now at the frill of the collar and the cuffs, but the rest were nearly as tight as the skin tight and formed, leather pants. When he walked you didn't see a person with stick like appendages move, you saw flexing and popping, mounding muscle mass, undulating crevices, bouncing forms, and stone tightening peaks. He was a glorious behemoth of muscle that could easily take on, if not possibly dwarf Sylvan's friend, Logan downstairs. Looking confused at the style of belt that hung large and dangling off his waist and the cap upon his head, both of which were leather and highly studded, Michael Santini stop and froze when he heard the sound of giggles and moans coming from downstairs. As gracefully and quietly as a man his size could, he crept down the stairs and stopped at the bottom when he turned and beheld the spectacle that awaited him in the foyer. Logan had grabbed, with both arms one of the entrance columns, his head and back were tilted backwards and arch, an expression of pure bliss across his face. His pants and underwear were down and there was another young man going to town with his mouth upon Logan's decent, but not overly sized member. In split second of fluttering eyes, Logan perceived the presence of someone else in the foyer and gasped. This caused Sylvan to react and then feel the presence of another in the room as well. After exclaiming the word "what" to Logan, he turned his head sideways and saw a near giant sized muscle man in knee high boots, leathers, and a poet shirt standing at the bottom of the stairs. "D... Da...Dad?" Sylvan said as he looked at the face of this man, that looked like his father, but appeared much younger and much taller and broader than his dad could ever hope to be. "Sylvan?" said Michael Santini questionably, but the questions that might have come to the top were stopped as a wave of warmth spread over Michael again and an audible moan issued from his lips. Sylvan and Logan stared in wonder as they saw this man's pants inflate at the crotch and then shrink back down again in proportion as the man suddenly grew up taller, broader, thicker, and hairier than he had been just seconds before. The poet shirt developed a large black "x" across itself and then suddenly faded out of view as a chain and leather halter appeared and hugged Mr. Santini's chest, lats, and back so snuggly one thought, "If he moves, it will snap." "Whoa... Dad!" Michael Santini stammered and then bolted for the door. His footsteps thudded and echoed so loudly in the foyer one would have thought with each step he was breaking floor tile. Flinging open the door he tried to run through, only to smack his head upon the door frame, then his shoulders, chest, and lats on the door frame sides, and swear loudly. Finally realizing he needed to perform twist like dance moves, he ducked and twisted sideways at the same time and ran out of the house and into the street. He was out and out running this time. He had grown fitter, possibly slightly younger but only by a few years, if that. Still, his health however was definitely and dramatically improved. He could feel it in the way his body moved as he ran. How his lungs filled with air and released in timing with each step. However he was desperately trying not to become turned on and aroused more and more with each gait of his run. He could feel how heavy he had become, but heavy with dense, thick, and strong muscle. He felt the energy and power each and every time his foot touched the ground and then his calves and thighs helped launch him forward. He could feel the bounce and heft of his pectoral muscles as they undulated in lift and fall in gravity with the motion of his trotting body. The gait had become a swing out to go forward movement as his thighs rolled around one another due to their great circumference. His massive, bulbous upper arms that bounced as he ran, being pushed so far up and out by his flaring lats. He successfully ignored all of that, but the pull on his groin from his ballooning balls and lengthening cock proved to be too much for Mr. Santini. Once again his cock grew out slightly and then shrunk back in just a bit, producing that warm feeling that course through his body. He saw his point of view rise a little bit higher. He felt his body become a bit thicker, stronger, denser, wider, fuller. Suddenly studded arm bands appeared around the crevice created between his upper arm and his deltoids, studded leather cuffs also appeared around his wrists, while the hair on the front of his torso grew in and out thicker, furrier, and became darker losing all of its grey and white sheen to a beautiful chestnut brown. He wasn't sure where he was running to. He needed to find help. He needed to call someone. Up ahead to his right he saw the bright lights of an establishment, possibly a bar. They would have a telephone he could use. Surely the management would take pity on him and allow him to make one phone call. There was man at the front door, a fairly big man. Michael Santini was looking down at him, and now he was even more worried. Obviously he must have been pricked or given a shot of some drug by his earlier attackers as he could not possibly have this point of view, looking down on such a large....broad....uhm.....beefy.....man. "Welcome, sir! Go right on in." The bouncer at the door said enthusiastically with a lusty smile on his face. "Ah..." thought Mr. Santini. "There's a smart man who recognizes when someone is in distress." Ducking and twisting his way through the doorway, Michael suddenly felt very uncomfortable. All conversation in the place stopped and low whispers began travelling across the room. Men came up to him from every side; some to measure themselves up against him, others to place a hand on his upper arms or upon his abdomen. Cat calls and whistles soon were being heard over loud screams of dog barks and wolf howls. Michael felt his ass being firmly groped, followed by his crotch. There were men who were throwing themselves at his legs and hanging on as he tried to walk forward. He shut his eyes against all these lewd advancing men, and concentrated on getting to the bar, but secretly he was fighting the arousing sensation building in him once more - the urge to have a full erection. Finally he made it to the bar as the sea of men looked up to him and stood aside, parted as if Michael were Moses and his rod commanded all. "Hey hey, giant stud. Welcome to Flaming Shots. What'll you ha....." The bartender looked into Michael's face and realized something was quite right. "Are you okay? You look a little wobbly for some reason." "I need... .... to use your phone. I'm... .... not right.... .... something's..... wrong..." "Sure. Go to the end of the bar and I can take you to a back room where we have a phone." Michael made his way to the end of the bar, where upon the bartender guided him into a small room with a phone, and a small table. "You look kind of like you're in shock. I can make the call for you, but besides maybe the paramedics, any family you need to have called?" "NO! No ambulance. Can't be seen.... uh.... family..... No... they can't..... I..... uh.......Roberts." "Robert?" "No. Roberts. C...Ca...Caleb....Caleb Roberts." "The senator? Do you work for him?" "NO! What? I must speak with him. I NEED TO SEE HIM!" "Alright calm down. Just... have a seat right there at the table. I'll get you a glass of water and see about getting a hold of Senator Roberts." The man left to go get the glass of water, but then stopped to talk to another big bouncer that was standing at the bottom of a staircase. "Uhmmm hey, go tell Caleb we have a slight emergency down here. There's a guy, a BIG guy, who says he needs to talk to him. Looks like one of his personal body guards, but he is a bit out of it and about ready to scream for him and make a scene." The bartender then went to get the glass of water and bring it back to Michael Santini. Michael was becoming agitated, wondering when he could place the phone call to Senator Roberts, confused over why he felt the need the urge to call him. His breathing became rapid, his kept tensing and flexing his muscles. Finally he flipped the table in front of him over and bellowed for his ability to call Senator Roberts. "Now, now. It's okay, Mister...?" Mr. Santini turned his gaze and attention towards the man addressing him who had just reached the bottom of the staircase and was crossing the landing. It was Senator Roberts, in almost all of his 6' 4" muscled glory. He was wearing a Roman toga and sandals, with one pectoral exposed, as well as his thick thighs due to the toga's short, short length. His silver and grey pepper hair was semi-plastered to his forehead due to sweat. He had a riding crop in one hand and in his other he had the handle of a chain leash that hung down and travelled back up to a halter connected to a mountain of a man that was quite a bit bigger built than Senator Roberts' trainer size physique, as well as being around twenty years or so younger. Michael Santini stood there and suddenly let his jaw drop as though he were looking at the most beautiful man in the world as he uttered one word. "Caleb?" And then his gaze traveled up the chain to the man behind Senator Roberts and a look of disgust came across Michael's face and once again he said Senator Roberts' first name but this time with a bit of shock and disgust. Then suddenly a deep, lusty moan escaped from Michael's throat and his crotch inflated and inflated and inflated some more and then shrunk back just a little. His body began to rise higher, and push out wider and thicker than ever before. He was definitely hitting the medical legal definition of being a giant and a giant bodybuilder, extreme bodybuilder, at that. Within moments the arm bands that had just recently appeared snapped and flew off of him. His nipples grew hard, the crevices cut in deeper as his muscles got larger and tighter. Slithering pythons of veins rose to the top of his skin and traversed the peaks and valleys of every muscle belly on his body. The leather cuffs at his wrists snapped and tore leaving mere threads to hold themselves together. His leather pants shimmered and suddenly their crotch and ass section disappeared and they became a pair of leather chaps that could barely contain the massive thighs and calves of Mr. Michael Santini. Michael's prick then fell hanging so long and thick, like nearly three fourths the way down his thigh and then began to rise up and up into a massive, pulsing, vein covered, flesh toned, iron rod. Suddenly bursting into the room Sylvan and Logan were there to which Logan gasped and Sylvan became dumbstruck until he finally uttered out the word, "Dad?" "I'm sorry, sir." said the bartender. "They just came running in saying they heard reports of a hulkish man dashing in here and said it was their father?" Senator Roberts stood there for a moment, staring at the man before him, then over to Sylvan and Logan, then at the face of Mr. Santini. "Senator Santini?" Michael looked back at Roberts with a sort of punch drunk, blank expression on his face. "I never expected you to hold back from who you were this long. Nor did I expect... ... how long have you had a crush on me?" Michael just stared back like a puppy longing for companionship, his erect cock bobbing in front of him throbbing as though it might burst. "What the hell is going on here?" yelled Sylvan. "Obviously I don't have a problem with a gay bar, but I know this... ..... porn giant.... is my father. How did he become this?" "It...." started Senator Roberts. "...is a combination of my fault and your fathers." "What?" "You know he had an extreme hatred against homosexuals, did you not?" "Yeah, but..." "Your father attacked me in the garage near the Capitol building early this evening - knife and briefcase. He told me he had had enough and with him actually physically attacking me, so had I. I hexed him with a particular curse I thought was befitting because I suspected where his mind and heart truly lie. That he was a secreted, closeted, gay man. My curse was to have his own desires change him. Every time he saw something he would find arousing, he would change and grow. I left it to the universe to decide how long it would last and when it would wear off. I thought he'd come to terms, to acceptance with himself or acceptance of homosexuals at least, before too many changes would occur. Apparently he denied himself to the very end, thus causing him to grow into..." "Into what has got to be a seven and half foot tall muscle bound, leather clad giant. How the hell is he going to live with himself? How are we going to live with him? He'll be beside himself. He'll be angry. Confused." "He'll be all right. Yet you are correct his life, your life can't go on as it had been. Jameson, " said Senator Roberts to one of his bodyguards, "case, if you please." "Case? What are you going to do?" One of the formerly very large men that was a body guard to Senator Roberts went back up the stairs and then came back down holding a small wooden and silk lined case, which he presented to Senator Roberts. Roberts placed it on the now re-up righted table and solemnly opened it revealing the wand that caused Michael Santini all his problems for the evening. Picking the wand up he turned around and pointed it at Mr. Santini. "A historical, story timeline adjustment must occur to match up with the physical changes that have occurred to your father. Obviously with his much healthier, muscular, and youthful look, plus his large increase in height, no one, even with finger printing and blood tests, is going to believe he is Senator Michael Santini." "So... .... ....what's going to happen?" "Well... I'm going to perform a spell allowing the Universe to rewrite his history, and thus part of yours. Just stand there and close your eyes. You'll feel changes wash over you in your memory. You can be the informant, the narrator, for us so we know what his background has become and where we need to send him on his way to his new life." "O... ok?" said Sylvan questionably and then he just breathed a sigh and closed his eyes. Michael still standing somewhat dazed looking, looked questioningly towards Senator Roberts who took his wand in hand , pointed it at Michael and said, "Quod rescripserunt in DNA, Universum, rescribo historia eius." A swirl of air flowed out of the tip of Senator Roberts' wand until it wrapped around and encircled Michael Santini like a small, personal tornado, but there was a small break off funnel to danced and tickled Sylvan's feet as though it wanted to grab all of him. "He's... .... ....he's involved in security.... .... in fact he's working for you, Senator Roberts. He's one of your body guards now. A Senator... Phillips... it's the man who ran against my father so many years ago! He's the one who has taken my father's place. In fact, Dad worked security for him and he introduced my dad to you. He decided it would be better since... .... since he and my mom married after my father and mom's divorce shortly after I was born and Dad... ... .... came out?!" Sylvan opened his eyes just time to join everyone in the small room to see more changes come over Michael Santini. The chaps became whole again and the fabric turned into the fabric used for a good pair of relaxed, slightly stretchable professional work pants. The harness disappeared replaced by black dress shirt open a couple of buttons down from the neck, and then a black suit jacket matching the fabric of the pants - the leather boots now having turned into an incredibly large pair of dress shoes. "I can see it now too, Sylvan." said Senator Roberts. "He's my biggest bodyguard at 7' 4", I pay him decently, I allow him time off to compete at the Mr. Olympia and preliminary contests, he lives in the guest quarters of my houses, where there is an extra room for you when you come over to stay with him, while his bedroom has a king sized bed for him and..." Suddenly there was a man who faded into existence. The man was only about 5' 3" tall, but had a solid gymnast style build. Sandy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and smooth and flawless skin. He was wearing some trainers on his feet, a pair of jeans that were a very light denim color and very tight and form fitting on his legs, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugged his upper arms, delts, shoulders, back, chest and lats so well one almost swore it was painted on or perhaps a tattoo. There was a quick glint of light upon Michael and the short man's hands where everyone could see matching rings, one on each hand, of a gold band with seven flat, inlayed diamonds, surrounded by two bans of polished black metal - modern wedding bands. At that moment Michael Santini stumbled forward, sighing. The small man sprang to life, attempting to prop him up as though he were the Atom, small man with super strength. "Michael..." Michael groaned. "It's o.k. Allyn." as he stabled himself by grabbing the arm of one of his fellow guards. Allyn looked up at Senator Roberts. "Sir... may I take him home? He's been having a series of headaches the last couple of days. I'm not sure he feels well." "Of... of course... Al...Allyn. Have my chauffer take you two home in my car. I can use one of the following guard's car." Senator Roberts stammered as the new history formed into his memory. Things returned to the new normal within a few minutes. The crowd was laughing, smooching, groping and drinking out in the bar. Upstairs the inner circle of the bar were fully making out, groping, petting, jacking off and giving blow jobs all while in leather and chains or other notable fetish wear. It was now just Senator Roberts, the man in chains, who was his partner, Sylvan, and his boyfriend, Logan. "Allyn." Said Sylvan. "He was my father's best friend in High School and part of college. At least that's how it used to be. He would tell me stories of how things changed between them in college so I would understand not everyone I was friends with in high school would remain so." "And Allyn was probably a man in love with your father and either wanted to come out or was more afraid to do so, and so the pair drifted apart." "But now... in this new history, they stayed together behind the scenes and got married after mom and dad divorced." Sylvan said as he kind of looked down sullenly at the floor. "You don't approve of your father's new history?" "No... it's not that... I mean... it's great and all. In fact it makes some things a lot easier. At least I know for certain now that one of my parents would approve of my boyfriend, here. Speaking of whom, this is Logan, my boyfriend, by the way." "Nice to meet you, Logan." "And you, sir." "But folks are gonna wonder if I have a syndrome or something." spoke Sylvan. "I beg your pardon." "Well... I mean. I'm his son and I may not necessarily grow to be as tall, nor as built as him, but he's almost two feet taller than me." "You think the universe should have changed you as well." "I don't know. On one hand it's going to be weird me being this short chubby man, the son of a behemoth built giant over seven feet tall, but at the same time, if I'm made too huge and tall, then that would change the dynamics between Logan and I and that would be...." "That would be hot as hell." blurted out Logan. "What?" Said both Sylvan and Caleb at the same time. "Bro...." Logan began. "I love you just like you are, being able to easily pick you up, to squish and tickle you, but if you wanted to become big and huge like your dad is now.... I.... I wouldn't mind it. I'm almost always the big dude. Yeah, some guys are built bigger than me, because I choose it. I have enough problems finding clothes that fit due to my height. My height which although there are some men who are taller than me, it's rare with me being as tall as I am, and if they are, they're usually a lot slimmer and thin. I'm always looked to for help, assistance, protection. Logan, lift this. Logan, reach that. Logan this guy is bullying me. It would be fucking hot to find someone I could climb, someone who could wrap me up in a cuddle, someone who would make me feel small. If you wanted to become that, so long as you did so without becoming a jerk....I think.... I....." Within a moment one could see that Logan wasn't small in other areas either as his rod expanded down his inner left thigh and then fought to raise itself in erection beyond the confines of the broad shorts. "God, Logan. Can't you ever control that anaconda of yours?" "Said Mr. Pot to Mr. Kettle?" Inquired Senator Roberts. "What?" and then suddenly Sylvan felt it. His own cock had developed a hard on, and although nowhere near as big as his lover, Logan's cock was... it was still enough to produce a throbbing bulge. He blushed and turned his face away. "The spell couldn't automatically effect you because of the other strings of your life, like how would this effect your relationship with Logan, school, and such, but... it looks as though Logan would still love you no matter what, if not more so as a behemoth like your father." "Hell, by now you'd be in your last years of junior competition; I'd help you train for your first Olympia to knock your old man down." Logan smiled. "You sure, Logan?" "I'm fine with it. Question is, 'Are you?'" Sylvan smiled. "I think... I'd love it. What do I do?" "Think back to my spell, and just invite those winds of change to wash over you." Sylvan closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The small amount of whirling wind that tickled his feet earlier appeared once more and grew and grew until it engulfed Sylvan's whole body. A few moments later Sylvan began to moan, some blurts in pleasure, others in agony and pain. His feet had begun to grow and to stretch and thus his shoes extended longer and tighter. His heel began to muffin top over the heel top of the shoe. His toes began to form ridges along the top front. The sides of the shoe began to roll over, out, and down over the sides of the soles, while the laces were being pulled tighter and tighter across the bridge of Sylvan's feet. Then the sides began to slowly rip along their length and Sylvan could feel the fresh cool air tickle the sides of his feet and bottom of his soles. The laces began to snap as the eyelets were pulled farther and farther apart by the higher and wider arch of Sylvan's feet. At the same time the back of the shoe was ripping apart while the toes were ripping out and growing past the front. His feet kept growing longer, thicker, wider, until they not only engulfed but completely hide the soles of his shoes, while the shoe tops looked like torn and ever shrinking spats upon his massive, muscular feet, until the fell away to the floor. "Oooh gawd..." moan Sylvan. "My feet feel so heavy... so long...." and he patted them a couple of times upon the hard wood floor. In a few moments the hems of Sylvan's pants' legs began to rise higher and higher up his leg. As one watched him, one could see it was just his shins growing as although his whole body was rising, the stretch was contained between his feet and knees. Up and up he grew until the jean hems stopped about half way up his calves. Then with moans slowly and lowly coming out of his mouth, he began to travel upward, higher and higher once again. This time folks could see the stretch happening between the knees and the waist, but as he was growing up, his knees also grew larger and thicker, his hips and waist as well. He was still a fit, average man build, but they were increasing to the size of extremely tall basketball player. At one point the button snapped on the waist band, but the rest of pants hugged the larger body well and fairly tightly. When all was done it looked as though Sylvan was wearing a slightly snug and ill fitting pair of capris , whose hems were right at the middle of the knees. It was the hem of the shirt that took off next as Sylvan's torso began to extend and rise, higher and higher. The spine popping and rocking hither and yon, his rib cage expanding further outward and upward. His shoulder snapping and widening, causing the arm bones to grow longer and farther was well. As the neck started lifting Sylvan's head up higher and higher, the hem of the shirt was rising as well revealing the hips, the bottom abs, the navel, the second row of abs. In a few moments the shirt that once was slightly tight fitting on a pudgy frame was now stretched in some ways, very loose in others, and looked like a midriff shirt on his now towering body. The same way his sleeves had shrunk as well, once hanging very well over his delts and to the middle of his upper arms, they now stretched around his arm pits and about half way down his delts. Looking like some lanky, young, pool boy in his now capri style jeans and midriff muscle shirt, Sylvan stumbled a little bit as he was trying to gain his footing and understand his new point of view perspective, having grown now to be 12 inches taller than the door frames of the building. But then he stood straight and tall, planting one foot slightly in front of the other as if to take a powerful and well supported stance. Sylvan started breathing in slow and steady, quivering, then taking in gasping breaths, but not as if choking, more as if turned on, breathing heavy during the act of sex. That's when it started, with a low and powerful groan. Veins began to rise up on his skin starting with his feet, the rose up and across his ankles to climb over his shins and calves, then rolling over the thighs, across the butt cheeks, around his hips and down his shaft and balls, while other side snakes went up the abs brick over brick until they hit the crevice of his chest and then spread out like eagle wings across that broad horizon until the continued like tendrils over the delts, down the upper arms, over the fore arms and into the hands. A last few pythons worked their way up the neck and into the head. At that moment Sylvan was just a tall, lanky, man covered in a web of veins criss-crossing his body such it looked nearly like he had a purplish net over him. But then one could see the veins rising... plumping... no, they were pulsing. They would suddenly become larger and fatter with the pulse of Sylvan's blood, and then shrink down. Yet, as they shrunk down, his muscles began to swell out. With each pulse of his veins and their shrinkage, his muscles filled out thicker... harder... fuller... denser... more striated. Sylvan began to chuckle. He could see the new memories building up in his life: the time when by the end of his Freshman year in high school he was two inches taller than his father. By the end of his college Freshman year, he'd grown another four inches taller than that, making him half a foot taller than his father. He worked out like crazy right after both growth spurts, using the body's usual ability of filling out in muscle strength and size to move the new bigger body. This meant he achieved a huge amount of muscle growth both times. Consider that he kept working out in between those times, eating more, lifting more, stretching and relaxing more, his muscles just soaked it all up and inflated at great and maximum size and speed. Sylvan's chuckles got larger and were mixed with moans. He was seeing average sized men shrink around him in his memories until he was two feet taller than them, while the few seven footers on the college basket ball team were almost a foot shorter. He loved the fact that his body was so big, built, bulging, and heavy that almost any piece of furniture groaned under his weight, straining to support it. How he couldn't fit into most regular cars, or vans, let alone mini cars and doorways. It was a huge turn on with him and he felt his new and growing cock lengthen and harden as it grew to full erection down the left side pants leg making it look like he had stolen and stuffed an extremely large summer sausage down there. The memories kept coming... the first time he blew and arm sleeve out, seeing that it ripped all the way to the shoulder seam; the time he tried his father's pants on and the hem, which was a couple inches high on his legs, suddenly popped and ripped because his calves were larger than his bodybuilder dad's calves were. The thighs as well easily ripped the side seams wide open, while his bubble butt and orange sized balls and miniature baseball bat, took up too much space, and while the pants hugged like a second skin Sylvan's ass, his cock and balls ripped the metallic teeth of the zipper apart, eventually ripping the fly and joining the seam rips so the pants sloughed off and fell to the ground. The first time in public after he had grown quite a bit taller that his shirts were showing off his lower abdomen, and no amount of pulling would bring the hem down to his waist band. This first time he moved his arm and his lats, arms, chest, and shoulders caused the shirt to rip at the arm pit and side. The first time when stretching that the ball of his biceps split his sleeve right open, or the fact that as friends commented on it, he also flexed his forearm and busted the sleeve and then the cuff there as well. The first time he casually leaned back to relax while taking a deep breath and a sound was heard similar to a row of bubble packing paper being all popped - his expanding chest having cause four buttons to pop off and go flying across the room. This was the first time Logan let Sylvan know of his interest in him, as he joking tried to pull Sylvan's shirt closed and chastised him for not wearing clothes that fit, but secretly shoved his hand under the fabric to feel up Sylvan's vest, run his fingers through Sylvan's hair and whisper up to him, "Gawd that was so hawt; I'm totally horned and boned for you now." The muscles kept growing thicker and farther out. Deep were the cuts and valleys; defined were the striations; bulging and peaking were the muscle bellies; crazily full were his veins; deceptively thin looked his skin stretched over the mighty muscled mass; bushy and feathery was the hair covering his chest, abs, mid upper down to forearms, crotch, and legs; murky was the air with sweat and musk. His biceps peak rose so high in the opposite direction of his tri's that his whole upper arm looked to be as big and round as basketballs he could so easily palm and dunk. Not just one but two kegs barreled out from the top of his torso that were the solid yet bouncing and protruding pecs. A range of shoulders that looked like mountains attempted to squeeze off the great neck that looked like a cut away section of a giant redwood trunk. His Adonis belt, so thick, lats so wide, he looked as though he could glide if he jumped out of a plane, while his abs looked like a towering rock climbing wall. Massive tree trunk sized thighs that had a great many of hanging tear drop shaped bee hives encircling it, with a thigh bicep that threatened to dwarf his upper arms, including hamstrings so thick they might support the golden gate bridge, and all of this above calves so thick, so wide, so fully developed they were beyond small ball shape, beyond the beating heart, past the hard diamond, and skewed into a huge, three dimensional, kite shape. In front of him, more correctly in front of his great balls, hung the titanic tube, which had gone flaccid, and in this soft and squeezable state, still went down about three-fourths the way down his thigh. But then those veins returned to visit it, rising and swelling up across the top of the skin and as they did so, this preposterous python became even larger, longer, fatter, thicker, as rapidly rose in rigidity and threatened to go well past Sylvan's knee if allowed to hang straight down as it did flaccid. But a full standing erection wasn't possible, for it grows too long, too thick, too heavy for it to rise up and stand at attention pointing to the top row of Sylvan's abdominals. No, it stuck straight out and bobbled as it throbbed between a 40 to 90 degree angle from his body. With his growth finished, now naked, Sylvan made quite the intimidating impression to almost everyone in the room. Everyone that is except Senator Caleb Roberts and Logan. Logan moved fast to hug and embrace his new, larger, bulkier boyfriend. The man who once stood so tall to Sylvan, that Sylvan only came up to his chin, now only came to the top of Sylvan's chest, just under the top of the delts and under the shoulders completely. Looking up to Sylvan, Logan smiled and said, "I... I can remember our past lives, how and when we met, what we did, but I can also remember a new history, too. Like how I came on to you and the first time I ever took... that." And Logan grabbed Sylvan's super schlong and gave it a squeeze. "I so want to recreate that night right now." "Unfortunately, you can't go anywhere to do that.", announced Senator Roberts. "Sylvan doesn't have any clothes with him. For some reason, the magic didn't provide that." and Caleb sighed a small yet laughing sigh. "Jameson..." said Senator Roberts to another one of his aide. "Take Young Mr. Santini and his lover, Logan, upstairs to my secret room. There they can enjoy the evening recreating the first penetration of Logan, while I send someone home to see if clothes were materialized there, as well as someone to head out to have something tailor made incase not." And with that Logan escorted the nude Sylvan up to the secret, private room, while Senator Roberts and his husband, went back home, via the back door, to work off their horniness upon seeing two men grow into great muscular, giant, brutes Michael Santini felt completely fine the next morning and reported for bodyguard duty at Senator Roberts' house, but upon discovering it was Allyn and Michael's anniversary, he not only allowed Michael a couple of weeks off, but booked a two week cruise for the couple. Meanwhile Sylvan's history now had him belonging to a couple of athletic teams back at college, and he and Logan celebrate either of their or their teams' victories with a most intimate party for two... or sometimes three.... maybe four.... depending upon who is feeling randy, who wants to see the legend "at work", both of them having come out fully as being gay college athletes. Thus proof of the phrase they say, "He who protests too much... ... ..."
  2. Greetings, This story is inspired by a few friends, both straight and gay, who have a problem. They want someone of similar size or larger than them if their gay, while if straight, they want a good sized woman so they won't feel constrained in the act of love making, so they don't break them. However they themselves are pretty off the charts size wise. Where do the naturally big men go when they want big(ger) men or big women to be theirs? Enjoy. Where Do the Large Find Their Large? by F_R_Eaky Len was a big man. Not that he was an über, basketball playing giant, nor was he built like the hulk, but he most certainly wasn't a small man. Standing 6' 8" tall in his bare, sized US 18 feet, a simple but handsome face with mocha colored hair, tipped with sun bleached highlights, over a pair of amber colored eyes, he had managed to build around 270 pounds of some decent muscle on him, although he wished for much more. Coming home from work and a date, he plopped himself down into the pool lounger that he was just slightly longer than and sighed heavily. He knew more than likely that his neighbor and good friend, Chad, was lying in a similar lounge chair on the other side of the well behind his chair. Chad was an average man, 5' 7" tall, average build, not really muscular, but not chubby either. He had short, jet black hair and indigo colored eyes, both of which were sit in a head that was very boyish looking, on top of his average body that was very smooth and hairless. He was the typical looking twink. The two young men were renting out the smallest and cheapest of the apartments in the apartment complex they lived in. In fact, their buildings were located at the end of the street that split off in a "Y". The owners originally had intended on continuing the complex out those two ways, but time, zoning rules, or life just got in the way. As it was the road ended in this "Y" shape, and the buildings sat on one branch or the other, their fronts angled with the "arms", and a huge rose bush growing in between them at the inner point of the "Y". The buildings were originally designed for holding the bulky grounds keeping equipment and such, but as the complex didn't grow beyond the current complex, not that much equipment was needed, and thus the other ends were turned into two private apartments for care taker and manager, if they so wanted it. Instead, it got rented out to lower income folks. These neighbors met after seeking an escape from a party held by their apartment complex. The people at the party were somewhat aloof, in some cases downright rude. Not seeing the pair as frequently as the other tenants, as the guys' apartments were down at the end of the street, and with that, knowing they were paying less in rent - probably because they couldn't afford anything better, and especially once they found out that both men were gay, most folks just kind of chose to ignore them. This was especially irritating for Len as whenever someone needed help taking down something, or a cat was in a tree, or could you lift this? - they easily recalled Len's name, apartment number, and were oh so pleasant to him then. Likewise Chad when they needed someone to look under their sink or some other small crawl space. So, after ditching a typical and boring soiree sponsored by the complex, each man, without knowing the others actions, decided to instead spend the day, relaxing in their "back yard." As it was the end of the complex, and the property butted up against the forest's edge, the pair actually had the best kept secret of the complex. Right in the middle of this little yard was an old well. The spring under it may have run dry, no one was really sure when it was built, but the gossip of the complex said they believed it went all the way back to Colonial times. The men met, chatted, offered each other a beer, decided to bring out some lawn chairs, sit next to the well and use it kind of as a table and just talk. It eventually led to Spring - Summer holidays with games, and weekends spent grilling food, eating chips, and having beers. Today was no exception. A nice warm Saturday evening as Len plopped down into his chair and sighed. "I tell you. .... Dating sucks." Popping open a beer bottle and passing it around the well to Len, Chad replied, "Another date not going well?" "Yeah....I liked the guy. Seemed easy enough to talk with and get along, but I went to meet 'Mr. Middle Aged' man, and instead I greeted, 'Old Man River.'" "You're kidding me?" "Nope. It's not that I couldn't ignore his age. He was a fairly well built and handsome guy. Yet, he's got age 45 on his G.A.K. app profile [Gay Animal Kingdom - come explore the zoo ] and during conversation he tells me things he's done as an adult and pretty soon you realize, once you're brain has kicked in the years and the calculation, the guy is knocking on 65. It's not so much about his actual age, but why lie about it? Makes one wonder, what else is he lying about? And how does one build a relationship with someone on a lie?" "Odd.... people are just odd sometimes. No other way to state it." "And it's hard for me, man. I want to find a big man. Someone my size build wise, or larger, especially if they're shorter than me, but I'd like them to be as tall as me, if not taller, but being.... you know... my size.... how is that going to happen? I'm just barely in the 99% for height measurement. Like, zero, zero, point, zero, one percent of men are going to be taller than me. It'll be about the same to find men built as large or larger than me, and if and when I do meet them, there's always something off." "Tell me about it. I try to make my interests known to a larger man and he just looks down at me, laughs, and says things like, 'You don't wanna try this ride, boy. It might break you.' It drives me nuts." "You know what.... I'm done with apps. I think I'm done with people. I have a better chance of finding someone by flipping a coin into this damned well, than by meeting folks on an app." "Really? C'moooooooon." "Why not? Nothing else better to do. The Spring and Summer activities have just started and it's already off to a bad start." Len began to take his hands and root into his pockets for a large coin. "Hey," said Chad. "What the hell; I'll join you." With that Chad took a coin out as well, held it out in front of him and leaned back in his lounge chair. "I wish I could find a man as built or built bigger than me, as tall or taller than me, that was decent, intelligent, kind, caring, not a jerk. That I could lift with, pal around with, cuddle or wrestle." "I wish I could find the same for me..... as long as he's got a decent build, some height, and isn't a dweeb, I'd be happy." "Ready?" said Len. "On the count of three. one.... Two.... THREE!" And with that both men threw their coins over their shoulders and then relaxed, closing their eyes, repeating their wish in their minds. What they couldn't see due to their eyes being closed and the action happening behind them, the coins hit each other, dead center over the hole to the bottom of the well. The coins then bounced off of each other, hitting the wall of the well with a spin that sent them rolling round and round the wall as they went down. With each revolution around the well wall, they struck each other twice and sparks and stars would fly off of them until, round and down, down and around they went finally touching the bottom. The rest of the night was spent drinking and talking, listening to the radio, and watching stars, until the young men got up and stumbled to their apartments. *************************************************************************** The next evening, Len came home somewhat late. Another date he had planned from the app he swore the night before to turn off, but who knows? Maybe? Just maybe, that guy might turn out alright. It was not to be. Len hit the chair sighing. "You all right, Len?" "Yeah fine. Another bombed date." "Grand. What happened." "Oh the guy was friendly enough. Only moderately built. Kind of like a runner. Slightly tall at about 6' 4", but then I found out his father was an elephant!" "Yeah, right." "I'm serious. The dude was hung. I got to see it. That's the problem. He shows up to the date wearing board shorts over under-armor shorts, and then just sits in the chair like he's straddling a saddle. Of course the board shorts have pulled up a little bit, revealing the outline of his cock going down his inner left leg. He then looks at me and smiles, asking me if I'm into it. Then says he knows I'm into it. I'm in awe. I can't help myself but drool over it. Asks me if I want to see it in action already, and when I say 'no', he takes that as a challenge to let me know how big it is, by becoming erect right there. Then goes off about being a true man, a real man, how he's gonna be the dominant in the relationship and how is virility is all, and I'd just have to get used to it. I'd say 'What a dick!', but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of the pun." "I'll say it for you then. What a prick! So the whole way he viewed relationships was via his cock size?" "Yep. I mean he's got it. If he wants to get into porn, he'll be one of the biggest. He's like eleven and a half inches when erect, but I think it just takes too much blood from his brain and makes him stupid. Why can't he be nice about it? Casual? Like you and your art. You're one of the best local artists out here, but you just are... You'll present your work if asked, but you don't show off all your ribbons, and brag, and boast, to purposefully out do other artists. Why couldn't he be more like you; be humble? Be a humble, hung man." The two men talked and drank as per usual and then retired for the evening. Later that night amid the night time noise of the insects and owls of the forest along with some frogs and toads in the distance there seemed to rise above this soft but haunting melody. The sound was slightly muffled and yet at the same time echoed. A mist rose off the ground, but even more thickly from the well and ebbed and flowed towards Chad's back door. Pouring itself into the apartment through his open bedroom window, it cascaded down the sill, across the floor and then climbed up the bed, under the top sheets. Forming hands underneath the sheet, the mist pulled down Chad's brief style underwear and began stroking and pulling on his shaft while caressing his balls. "Ooooo.... yesssssss" Chad moaned in his sleep. Over and over again the mist stroked Chad's miniature beef log, it rising to its full four and three-fourths inches of erection. He moaned and groaned, squirmed and bucked in pleasure. In his mind, Chad was having a most excellent dream of a man who stood around a foot taller than him, with mane like, burnt umber colored hair with golden flecks, which Chad had his hand run thoroughly through, as he helped the man's head bob up and down on his package. On and on the stroking and the dream went until it built up such strength, such intensity, that the pre-shock of orgasm woke Chad from his sleep and he sat up in bed screaming out "Oh fuck!" in long vocal utterance. Several volleys, perhaps a dozen or more we shot across Chad's bed, before the orgasm was to subside, but even then, the last one still built up in strength just as large, if not larger, than the beginning of the orgasm. But if Chad had secretly hoped that this would be the short end of it, he was wrong, for it didn't feel as though he blew the last shot of his ejecting ejaculate, but instead as though it was a rope being painstakingly, slowly, pulled through his cock As it was being done so, he would gasp and shudder and suddenly his cock throbbed and oozed.... it swelled and grew....it engorged and thickened, while his balls began to swell and become more snug in his scrotum, heavier, and the sensation of something churning inside them more and more prominent. This act and sensations happened not just once, but five times that night. In the morning, or near afternoon, Chad woke up in extreme exhaustion. How could a good night's sleep leaving him so knackered? It didn't help matters any as he tried to push himself off the mattress, having flipped over face down sometime in the night, and he had to hear and feel the act of pulling himself away from the top sheet as he was glued to it by the copious amount of cum he had spewed during the evening. Wondering what made him so horny, what gave him the ability to blow such a huge as load, after load, after load, Chad groggily walked to the bathroom to take a shower and wake up. But on his way he felt something striking his legs, around the lower part of his thigh. He also felt as though something was racking him in the balls with every step he took. Looking down to discover what was cause the sensations, he backed out of the bathroom in fear until he hit the edge of his bed and fell backwards upon it. His hands reached out for his groin and he felt his sausage and eggs. They were huge. They were sensitive. They were tender. The prick was long, thick, veiny, and yet it was soft. SOFT! Clamoring for his left nightstand, he opened the drawer and pulled out a measuring tape. Laying it on top of the base of his cock, Chad began to pull it out as he pulled out his prick. 1....2......3......4.......5.......6.......7.......8......9....and one-fourth....one-half. Nine and one half inches long and it was flaccid. This couldn't be real. This couldn't have happened. There had to be a way to prove to himself that this wasn't a dream. Reaching again for his nightstand, he pulled out one of his small sized condoms and headed back into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stepped in and got wet. He soaped up his groin and himself, then he slipped the condom on and it didn't fit like it normally did. It only came partially down his soft shaft. In disbelief he backed up again, like he could walk, turn, and then run away from his own appendage. But he forgot he was holding his cock up to look at it and when he backed up the shower head, set on power massage setting, sent a pulsating stream right towards his prick's piss slit. "Ooooohhhh..." The spray sent a tickling feeling that ran from piss slit up to Chad's lower lip. He tried to back away further, forgetting he was in the shower stall. The spray kept hitting him and he felt his schlong begin to inflate, long and thicker, harder and veinier. "Ooooh gaaaawd..." thought Chad. "I'm not just a shower... I'm a grower!" Chad looked down at his package as it grew and grew causing every ripple in the condom to become stretched so thin and so taut that it was becoming damn near invisible on Chad's massive member. Pre was leaking out of his humongous helmet now, the head stretching the mini-condom to its limits. It didn't take long for the lengthening and hardening rod of steel to grow until there was a sudden release of pressure as the condom split open from head to base, the ring of the opening being all that was left to show that the condom was originally a tube instead of a sheet of rubber or latex. Chad still had the tape measure in his hand and shakily run along the massive monster of meat sticking out from his groin and over flowing his own hands. ... ... ... .... fourteen inches long. A quick wrap around of the tape revealed the dominant dong to be nine inches around at its thickest point. The realization of the size of his wonder worm and nuts, the jetting spray from the shower onto his cock and balls, the rubbing of his own, soaped up legs against both his cock and balls soon caused him to shudder and explode once more, sending a tsunami of cum against the stall door and causing him to sink to the stall floor. ***************************************************************************** Six days went by before Len "saw" Chad again. Chad didn't come out Sunday as he was attempting to learn how to walk with underwear on. He still loved his briefs. He loved them even more now actually, or even a thong style. His ample package all balled together in the pouch made it feel much heavier, while the weight and size caused the waist band to be pulled down a bit exposing Chad's boa base which made things feel even bigger. His fantasy thoughts of walking around a pool in a micro brief or thong swimsuit turned him on so much that his cock would become erect and threaten to tear out his underwear. Of course the turn on and feeling of it hanging lead like yet free made him wish he lived and did business in a nudist colony so he could just walk around au natural. However, his bits and pieces all packaged together did in fact create quite the package. Large enough its profile was obscene. He certainly couldn't wear his briefs and such to work or in public. Chad had to learn to wear compression shorts and snake his amorous anaconda down the inner thigh of one leg or the other. This also meant that now, the Friday after, he couldn't meet Len like he normally did outside, as he normally lied out in a brief, or micro-brief, swimsuit or underwear, and boxers could still easily expose his blessing, while the compression shorts only helped to highlight it. There was a tap at Chad's bedroom window late Friday evening as Len called out to see if Chad was home. It was open, so Chad quickly lied down in bed and slightly called back out. "Dude, are you all right?" "Yeah, I'm fine, Len. I took some extra hours all this week and I think it wore me down and I caught something." "Geeze, man. That sucks. I'll let you alone then to rest." "Naw... it's ok. Just make my window the well tonight." Len walked over to the well to get his chair and cooler while Chad quickly opened up the screen on his window. Len then placed his chair against the wall under the window with his cooler along side of it. "You think your safe to drink, bro?" "Yeah.... maybe.... probably just not too many." "Cool." and Len popped a top on a beer and set it in the window sill. "There ya go." "Thanks.... .... So, you have another date tonight?" "Yeah and it was abysmal. Cute guy. God.... he was so fuckin' thick! Check this out. He's only 5' 3" tall but he is beyond jacked. Had so much mass packed on his frame. He was two-hundred and fifteen pounds, hits around two-forty in the off season. Can you believe that? He's not into competing though, but he could probably win quite a bit if he did. He's got these bowling balls for arm and short tree trunks for legs. Seriously, his arms were like twenty-three inches around - cold! His quads are like thirty-two inches around. A sixty inch chest. Just a compact lil' beast. He's all about the bodybuilding life style, likes to help people train, but there's the problem." "He like to train people and that's a problem?" "Yeah he's got 'Short Man's Chip Syndrome', ya know...." "Awwww no." "Yeah... likes to train those who aren't yet Mr. Olympia worthy so he can prove he's stronger than them. Kept wanting me to life or arm wrestle cause he wanted to prove the man who was almost a foot and half taller than him was weaker than him. He wants to prove himself all the time. He wants to humiliate as many people as he can to show he's the big man. It just another flop test of humanity, Chad. I tell ya. If you suddenly blew up with muscles would you have to be all cocky and arogant?" Chad chuckled a little. "Well... .... .... I might volunteer to point out directions.... frequently." The pair laughed and opened another beer. "You're right though, Len. I might playfully show off and accept some challenges for arm wrestling, but I wouldn't go out of my way to specifically, purposefully, set up situations to show off, or prove myself to taller men like you. I'd.... just try to be." "Exactly. Why can't these shorter bodybuilders be like you? Just happy, proud, and polite, just taking life as it is?" A couple hours and several more discussion topics and beers later, Len got up, said good night, and went back to his apartment. Chad rolled over and went to sleep. ************************************************************************** It was the middle of the night. Chad woke up and felt... ... ... something. He didn't feel like he was being watched, he didn't feel sick, he didn't feel too cold or too warm, he just felt an unknown something. A mist had formed and it had rolled in, filling his apartment. It was as bad as if he were standing outside on some English moor. He could barely see just an arm's length away. Throwing back his bed sheet, he stood up and reveled in the feeling of the swing and pull of his dong as he got up. To save extreme pain from morning wood, Chad had begun sleeping in the nude; besides, he love the feeling of his trouser snake wrapping 'round his legs and his bulging balls hanging free. Making his way to the living room, he opened the windows there and felt a cool early-still-evening-morning breeze waft through and stroke his nipples to perfection. As they became hard, Chad closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, but then something felt off. He couldn't put his finger on it at first. It took a couple of times after a couple of deep breaths before he realized it. He felt, heavier...harder...firmer... Yet he couldn't stop himself. The deep breathing felt so good. He knew he had to continue, and even if he didn't wish to, he would still keep breathing in. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" he inhaled. He could feel himself becoming tauter, tighter, fuller, thicker. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" He felt his abs crunch a bit. His hands could feel some new ridges across his stomach. His ankles and wrists looked thicker and harder. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" He was rocking on the balls of his feet and every time he landed back on his heels he could hear the thud sound becoming louder, harder. The string from calves to heels stretched thicker and tighter, as well as his hamstring. He felt his ass pull in tighter and firmer. His reflection in the window showed lines moving out from his abs going across his sides. Some definition and c shaped shadows began to appear under his chest. His shoulders snapped back and straighter. His neck spread thicker. His deltoids rounded. That blood vessel line shot across and stayed on his bicep which took on a more oval shape. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" His abs really crunched in while obliques began to make way for the newest set of wings that were Chad's lats. His back broadened and thickened. His chest pushed forward and hung a little heavier, forming two nice little crescents. His shoulders, traps, began to rise beside his fuller neck. Veins began to run over his thighs as they began to cry with one, two tear drop shapes, and the back of his thigh began to bulge and round out like an upper arm, while the cable of his ham strings pulled tighter, harder, and thicker, and his calves grew out into some diamond shapes. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" Again his calves inflated and defined into some serious sharp pointed diamond, that were morphing into something else. His quads cried out again - one, two, three tear drop shaped hanging full waiting to drop. His butt bubbled out harder, rounder, while his abs became thick cobblestone brick, and his obliques became more firmly carved out. His lats spread out wider, beginning to push his arms up and away, and those arms were inflating rapidly, the hill of the triceps bulging out from behind, while the biceps grew somewhat rectangular, but began to rise into softball sized peaks when flexed. His forearms were becoming all chorded and veiny and taking on the shape of chicken drumsticks. His neck was becoming a plinth that was pushing apart and away the two hills of his shoulders as his delts grew fuller, rounder, like concrete balls used in garden features. But they were hard to notice as his pecs inflated more barrel like, hanging thicker, broader, and heavier. His nipples beginning their migration from sticking straight out to pointing down. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" Chad adjusted his feet and wiggled his hands. They had grown just a tad longer and thicker. First his toes, then his feet, followed by his heel, and then they all grew wider and harder. His hands swelled up larger. His fingers got longer and incredibly thicker like some sausages. The hands and feet were taking on the appearance of a man who had been lifting. Lifting for years and with incredible weight. But he also had adjusted his stance as this thighs again became more swollen. The increasing size and shape along with the tendon cables and blood vessels rising to the top was making his calves look like a pair of hearts. Four tear drops hanging now around the front, while his thigh bicep is rounding without him flexing his leg. His ass is becoming two firm round loaves swelling and rising further out. His abs were becoming like cinder blocks. His lats were making it so his arms would never touch his obliques and sides again. Spreading out wider and wider like bat wings. His chest was just rolling out from his chest becoming so thick, so round, as his nipples traveled further to the underside of them. His traps growing larger threatening to pinch off the now column sized neck. His delts becoming the size of medicine balls. His biceps rising to great mountainous peaks, split, double peaks, as his triceps grew into a grotesquely over inflated horseshoe shap, and his fore arms became turkey legs. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" Again he had to widen his stance. His calves becoming thick enough, they might still touch with feet shoulder width apart. His thighs grew even thicker, pushing his massive balls and mammoth cock out front even more, and with the now rolling motion of his legs as they moved and he walked, sent no small amount of racking pain through his body. His butt swelled like two hot air balloons but were exceptionally firm and hard. His abs were like castle blocks. His lats grew into pterodactyl wings. His chest continued to roll out, thicker, wider, fuller, going from barrels to oil drums. His nips growing large and pointing nearly straight down now. His traps forming two mountain ranges, while his neck was a giant redwood in between them. His delts were now concrete balls the size they used to block streets. The upper arms inflated even larger possibly becoming thicker, rounder than Chad's own head. His forearms growing to drumsticks the size of an ostrich. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... .... .... beast...." Chad swelled ever larger, the blood vessels rising to just underneath the skin everywhere, full, hard, and engorged with blood. His arms were nearly sticking straight out to the sides. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... ... ... Beast!..." His muscles grew denser, stronger, harder, items made of glass, wood, would break when they struck him. "HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM... ... ... BEAST!..." Lines of striation came in crisp and clear under the pulsating veins and in between the deeply chiseled crevices of each and every muscle separation. His stance widened even further. "HMMMMMMMMMMMMM BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAST!" One last time he swelled with muscular power and with it as he threw his head and shoulders back, clinched his fists, held his arms open wide, sunk half way into a squatting stance, and flexed his muscles, he screamed aloud the word beast, and suddenly his onyx colored hair, travelled down across his checks, chin and upper lip forming a three day scruff beard, continued down his neck in similar style and then hit his chest where it spread out long, curly, feathery, going straight down the front of his torso, while starting mid upper arm and mid ass, spreading down the arms and legs each, stopping about a fourth of the way onto the hands and feet, all while the torso trail struck his crotch and produced a might bush which nearly obscured his balls, and made his prevailing prick look like it grew out of nowhere. Chad stood there in the mist and the moonlight, breathing, panting heavily in his living room. His right hand reached out and felt his right pectoral muscle. It filled his hand and then some. Yet even his own hand could hardly make a dent in it as he gave it a squeeze. He moaned greatly as his lightly pinched and then rubbed one of his decently sized nipples. Then he began to bounce them, individually at first, then both at the same time, and he laughed... and laughed. Deep, supported, rich belly laughs. Spreading his arms out again in a front biceps pose but with the forearms extended, he saw his reflection in the window. What was his gigantic globes of pectorals now looked like to thick cut slabs of trapezoids. His lats looks as though he could jump from a plane and glide down to safety, his body having a built in paragliding suit. His cock slowly but firmly became erect as he stood there looking down and feeling up all over himself. He turned and began a new waddle-walk as he rolled his legs out and forward to get anywhere. Hitting the doorway of his bathroom, his cock entered about 15 seconds before the front of his chest and thighs did, which entered about 15 seconds before... ... ... Well the rest of him, did not enter. His back, shoulders, and lats were too wide and they pushed his arms out it impeded Chad from walking forward through a door. He turned sideways to get through the door, and still had to suck in and concave his chest slightly into to make it through. Although it did cause his penis to become pushed back and then slap against his body like one of those spring door stops when flicked. Once there he did the best he could to measure himself with the measuring tape he had left in the bathroom the day his cock became colossal: Chest 64 inches, Upper Arms 24 inches, Waist 31.5 inches, Thighs 33.25 inches, Calves 23 inches. In shock and slight disbelief, he turned and stepped upon his bathroom scale and watched in wide-eyed awe. It hit his usual weight of 148lbs and kept going to 50... 60... 70... 80... 90... 200 pounds.... 210.... 220... 230... 235... 240... 245... 246... 247... 248... 249.... 250. Two-hundred fifty pounds of solid, densely packed beef onto a 5' 7" tall man. Staring at himself in the mirror, he let out a small yelp. Who was this mighty-mite standing before him? This short supreme stud? This bodybuilder so swollen with muscle he nearly couldn't move, with monster meat between his legs, which although during the fear and shock had gone flaccid, was now returning to full erection that still looked disproportionate sticking out beyond all the hairy, mammoth muscle. Running his hands through his chest hair, Chad leaned back hard and had to jump forward when he heard the sink pedestal crack. The thought of what he just did, just by leaning, made him become even harder and his balls churn more, screaming for release. Gingerly squeezing his way in through the shower stall door, he leaned back against the opposite corner, allowing the water to cascade down his body over every rising mound and deepening crevice, while he tried his best to force his arms in close enough so he might properly grab super schlong and began to beat it off furiously, until spasmed and shook, convulsing in pleasure, and blowing rope after thick, and long, rope of cum across the shower stall. **************************************************************************** Chad felt like he was in a dream the next morning, but in the semi in between state of consciousness and being asleep, his brain kept registering how big he now was because every time he rolled over the bed groaned in ways it never had before due to his heavier weight. The breeze flowed over him differently now. Instead of feeling a straight breeze whipping over a lithe body, where exposed, the wind now rolled and swirled over mounds and into crevices, undulating like a car on a great hilly roller-coaster. Throwing over the covers, he sat up and looked down. Gasping in shock, he realized he couldn't see anything past his chest it was so mounding and full, barreling nearly up to his chin and jutting far out from his torso. Even raising his shins and feet up, it was still difficult to see his feet. He stood up and hand to throw his hand and arm out to steady himself on the night stand, his balance being thrown off by the monstrous size of his thighs fighting for space. But the arm sticking out from his body was so thick, massive, and veiny. Chad was certain his upper arm, maybe just his bicep was bigger round than his head. Waddling his way to the bathroom, he remembered what he saw in the mirror the night before. How horny it made him to see what he had become. What had he become? Was this permanent? How did it happen, and so fast? And then the realization hit him. What was he going to do about his job? Sure he was an independent artist, but he worked some jobs for companies. He couldn't simply leave on Friday this paper thin man and then show up on Monday looking like the Hulk's mini-me. What was he going to do? Eventually Chad shifted schedules, called the businesses he had contracts with and told them due to health reasons he would no longer be accepting contracts from them but would finish up and send on the last projects, and told the workers of his gallery he was taking an emergency vacation due to family crisis. He then promptly threw on his largest clothes that snapped and ripped everywhere just from his breathing let alone movement, and promptly drove to the bank and took out some money, then drove to Mallmart and bought the three or so pairs of the largest sweat suit shirt and pants they had, changed into them and then went back to his apartment, where he stripped back down, and walked around nude, trying to figure out what he was going to do. **************************************************************************** Another week had gone by before Len "saw" Chad again. Late Saturday evening, after the clothes buying and the pondering over what he was going to do, Chad parked his car in an area near his apartment he knew it would be hidden from view, and never walked in front of his windows, nor answered his door when Len knocked. That next Friday evening however, Len had caught the shadow of Chad's head passing by the window, which Chad had open as he was becoming quite accustom and addicted to feeling a breeze caress his nude Herculean physique. As he heard Len's voice, he dove into the bathroom for cover, but he knew Len had seen him, partially, and he would have to answer. "Hey, Chad..." "Hey, Len." Chad said, peeking just his head from around the bathroom door. "How are doin'? I've need see you out for two weeks now and your car has been gone all this week." "I'm doin' fine. Better. Still have a touch of that crap that was going around. It uh kept me down all last week and this week I've had to uhmm... go meet clients and catch up on work loads." "Feel like hangin' out? I could use a friendly bartender tonight." "Well, I'm still kind of cruddy, but I can talk via the widow again." "Coo." Like the week before, Len pulled his chair and cooler up and under Chad's window and placed a beer on the window sill. "So, what's up. You sound a little disappointed again. Poor date?" "Two poor dates." "Two?" "Yeah had one meeting, scheduled in the late afternoon, he had to leave by seven p. m., so I arranged another date with another guy around seven-thirty." "And both turned out to be bombs?" "Yeah... one was a dominating prick and the other was just a complainer, both about their height." "Find a couple of guys taller than you?" "Yeah... The first guy was 7' 2" tall, slight basketball player build. He proclaimed me to be small. Small? I was thinking, 'Really, dude? Sure you're six inches taller than me, but we weigh about the same and mine is all muscle.' But if I had spoken that out loud he wouldn't have cared. It was all about the height and he was just afraid... no, he knew I would be broken by him because I was so small. I had tiny feet and tiny hands, I was just as small to him as...." "As someone my height?" "Yeah. Except he said I looked like a pre-teen and average guys looked like toddlers." Chad felt his chest puff up as he took in a long, slow breath and proclaim, "Fuckin' jerk." "Wait, it gets better. So the second guy was 6' 11" with a slight build upon him, but all he did was complain... ... ... about his height. Nothing was made for folks his size. He was always breaking chairs, didn't fit in cars, had to buy his clothes specialty made and five times the expense - especially his shoes, had scars on his head from running into doorways, ceiling beams, hanging pots and signs, couldn't go to social outings where he had to rent things like skis, roller blades, bowling shoes, and then because of all the ducking and stooping he was always experiencing back pain, joint pain, foot pain to accompany all his headaches. "I tried to join in sayin' I understood and agreed with some of those things, having experienced them myself, but that I found out that doing weight training and muscle building had helped to prevent some of those injuries to back and joints. The last part of my statement he turned his nose up at and looked at me in the eye and said, 'Yeah you like you're working your way up to being a cow.' "I looked at him like he was a dork and said, 'A cow?... ... ... How do you figure? I'm not fat.' to which he says, 'My buddies and I call all guys like you who look like those extreme built physical trainers a cow.' and then I asked him, 'What do you call bodybuilders?' and his response? ... ... ...'Bloated bulls with miniscule dicks.'" Chad gasped. "He didn't. What a bastard." "I know, right? Okay, bodybuilding may not be your thing, but that doesn't mean you have to be rude and call those who embrace the lifestyle names or make fun of them, just don't buy tickets for the Olympia Expo. At any rate I realized he'd never support me in my working out and trying to get bigger. I might not make it to the Olympia ever, or even local regional contest, but I can at least get pretty hefty, and I'd like to have whomever I'm with either join me in training or at least support me. "And I know and understand the problems of being tall and all, but why sit and complain so long and constant about it? Go to the Big and Tall stores. Buy a truck you can fit into. Go have some bowling shoes or skis custom made. You just have to live with it until society catches up to the big or tall man's needs. It's not like you can just crop off a foot of height from your body or that there's a real shrink ray to make you smaller." "No doubt. You just have to go and work with what the universe, your DNA gave you." "Yeah, you understand. You're short, but you're not that short. And even though you are slightly short you don't complain about it. You just do the best you can, break out a stool or ask a taller guy for assistance. ... and... ...and you encourage.... you know.... me... and other guys who like to get big... and buff and huge. Other guys who want to become massive, even though you yourself are slim with a hyper metabolism." "Yeaaaah, but you know I like big guys, so of course I'd support them." "Yeah, but I've seen you in art classes teaching and volunteer groups assisting, and you always seem supportive, even if the person really isn't ever going to achieve what they're setting out to do. You're supportive and encouraging. Now, if I could just find a tall and built man...giant for me.... who's supportive and encouraging like you, and not a superior, arrogant ass, or a 'william whiner', or smug asshat who looks down on others choices and dreams." There was a calm quietness between them. The kind that one only experiences with very good friends and family. Then the conversation lightened up and laughter began to echo as the beers flowed a little more and the conversation became more relaxed, fun, silly, and then down right goofy. Len eventually left his friend and fumbled his way back to his apartment, after wishing Chad would get better soon. *************************************************************************** Once again it was the wee hours of the morning. Chad was sleeping totally nude and uncovered, feeling that evening breeze once again flow over and around his massively bulked up body. The wind running itself through his thick, body hair and making it sway like grass on the prairie. Waking up, Chad smacked his lips. He was suddenly feeling....peckish....a slight hunger gnawed at him. But that feeling grew into being fully hungry. Starving. Ravishing. He ran as best he could into the kitchen, threw wide open the fridge door and realized he wanted... ... ... milk. Grabbing the gallon jug out of the fridge, Chad popped the top on it and began to chug it. Gulp after gulp Chad practically inhaled the milk, except some parts of it that leaked out past the corners of his lips, ran down his chin, splattered onto his chest and then dropped and swirled from his chest and over to his abs, rushing like a babbling brook over those cobblestones and into his thick, dense groin bush. Chugging....chugging....chugging....GONE! Chad let out a loud, "Aaaaaaah!", and then crushed the empty gallon jug with his hands. Pacing up and down the kitchen area, Chad was waiting for something, although he didn't know what. He was becoming more and more restless, he needed to do something. Then and idea struck him - he'd put on the sweat pants and go to a 24 hour gym and do a work out. And so, he got dressed in his sweats put on his size 13 shoes, then walked back to the kitchen to grab some snacks to take with him. Then a pain hit him and hit him hard. It felt like someone inserting a needle into his hands, both palm and each individual finger. Then it was happening in his toes and feet. Chad staggered a little at just this small amount of pain and raised his hands to look at them. The swelled up, but weren't looking disproportionate as though they had been bruised or crushed. They were just getting bigger and longer, keeping the same massive thickness they had before, but just on a larger hand. Chad stood in awe watching as the finger got longer and longer, the palm got longer and wider. He tried to close his eyes and breathe deeply to concentrate and focus the pain away, but then with each stab of pain in his feet, he could hear small tearing sounds. rip... .... ri-i-ip.... ....riiiip.... .... riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip. Suddenly the sides his feet could feet the cool air once again. It didn't take too long before his toes broke through the front. As he watched his hands continuing to get larger he kicked his feet to get rid of his now fully ripped and torn shoes so he might stand barefoot. Shuffling his growing feet across the floor, he stopped when he could feel one of his heels but up against a grout line in the floor tiles. He left them there, feeling that his toes were beyond the other side of the tile and moving, growing, further and further away. Then there was a pull and tickling to his stomach, and the needle like pain course throughout his body, primarily in his back, arm, and leg bones. A few gasps and pulls and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Turning around, trying to figure out what he should do, if he should call for emergency help, the sensation kept hitting him and it became tighter across his chest and harder to breathe. That's when he saw his reflection in the oven, glass door. He realized he was slightly taller than the fridge now and his clothes were pulling exceptionally tighter across his muscles. And few more sharp intakes of breathe and he was nearly half a foot taller than the fridge with his clothes not hiding the shape and size of his musculature at all. The next few breathes Chad totally forgot about the needle like pain as now his ears were filled with the sound of clothes ripping left and right. "huh" A tear formed under his right underarm. "huh" His left thigh started a tear in front. "huh" His right forearm snapped the wrist band. "huh" His back began to rip open. "Huh" His butt ripped the back open down the center. "Huh" His left thigh tear tore all the way up and down, while his right calve popped it's lower leg of the sweat pants. "Huh" His inflating chest snapped the front open. "HUH" His right bicep broke open the sleeve. "HUH" His ample ass tore the whole back end of the pants, while both thighs split open the legs down the back side. "HUH" His two calves caused the bottom of the pants legs to explode open and their hems bust. "HUH!" His chest tore open the front and snapped the collar band. "HUH!" His traps tore the sides of the shirt into strips. "HUH!" His back ripped all the way down the center. "HUH!" His waist band snapped, revealing his under armor compression shorts that had runs developing in it like cheap panty hose, soon to let his growing anaconda free. All this while his clothes were not just getting tighter and tighter on him, but smaller and smaller. If they could fit him muscle wise, they still would fit him like mid drifts and Capri pants. Mid drifts than only came down to the bottom of his chest, and Capri's that looked like knee length shorts. Watching his reflection in the oven door, he watched as he continued to get taller and taller than the fridge. He was panicking see the lights and ceiling fan getting closer and closer. He stepped over to avoid the fan and watched as his waist left the height of the kitchen counter and rose above it. His groin and ass rose slightly above it. Half way above it. Completely above it. Until there he was nude, hulking, hung, hairy, and the counter only came about midway up his thigh. Chad put his hands up as if to stop his growth, worried that the small apartment with its seven and a half foot tall ceiling was going to become way too small for him. But when all was said and done, he discovered he could stand up straight, but feel the ceiling brushing the hair on his head. Turning to move, Chad knocked off a large tea kettle from a hanging kitchen rack. Catching it easily, he nearly crushed in shock when he realize he could palm the think like it was a soft ball. Stroll-sway-strutting back to the bathroom, Chad grabbed the remote on his bathroom scale and turned the audio voice on. He stood there trying to keep his balance, which was extremely difficult as his feet together we both longer and wider than the bathroom scale. Not to mention that the few inches thick the scale was caused Chad to dent a small hole into the ceiling. Chad would've seen his eyes open wide in awe, or horror, as he heard the scale call out the weight, but he had grown so tall, both his head and his shoulders disappeared above the mirror and its reflection. "250....300...350...400....500....520....540.....550....560....562....563...564....565....566...566....566..." Five hundred, sixty-six pounds... ... ... and with his hair brushing the ceiling, but his head not touching it, he knew he was somewhere between 7' 3" tall and 7' 5" tall. "Good gawd..." Chad thought. "Is there a car...a bus or a plane I will fit into?" Taking a selfie stick he received for Christmas and taping a marker onto it, he laid the measuring tape out onto the floor to measure his foot realizing they were now fifteen and one-third inches long. A quick look upon the computer, after many key strikes and deletions due to his extremely large fingers, he discovered he wore a size 24 shoe. "If clothes didn't fit and were expensive before...." Chad thought worriedly to himself, and then... "Oh shit! My cock still feels the same to me... the same proportions...that means...." and after forcing himself to become erect and with another measure and marking...."Holy.... 18.25 inches.....I'm gonna rip men apart." Chad eventually came out of the shock and decided to measure everything else as best as he could. Eventually he realized his chest was somewhere around 84", his upper arms were 31.5", waist 41.25", thighs were 43.75", and calves were 30.25" Where in the hell was he going to find clothes? Collapsing into a chair, which Chad was certain the legs bent under the strain of his weight, he caught his reflection in the bedroom mirror on the other side of the room. His lats and back greatly overflowed the arms and back of the chair, being exceptionally wider than it. His arms pushed up so high and out from those lats and the size of the arms themselves, plus the length of his torso, had almost no hope of being able to rest upon the arms of the chair. His thighs and buttocks were pushing and bending the arms of the chair out, threatening to break them. His head and shoulders sat so much higher than the back of the seat, and his legs stretched out and out so far from the chair, with his knees both out quite farther and up higher than the seat of the chair, that a person could almost crawl between the space of Chad's calves, thighs, and the front of the chair. It didn't take long before Chad had to swing a leg over one of the chair arms, during which his foot never had to leave the floor, due to the fact that staring at himself in the mirror he was quickly becoming aroused and his super schlong was rapidly becoming fully engorged and rigid. The realization that this giant, hung, hairy bodybuilder simply sitting in this chair and dwarfing it, crushing it, was him gave him fantasy thoughts, which he understood might now be able to come true. Again, one hand went to caressing his abs, chest, and nips, feeling how thick and solid, heavy and mounding they were, all the while combing through this expanse of hair. The other hand went straight to his sizeable shaft, even slightly too large for his own hands. He began making slow, pulling strokes on his cock two fingers rubbing its slit, stroking down to the bass and then rubbing his bulbous balls. Slowly...oh so slowly.... to feel each stimulating pull. To increase the length of each sensation as is travelled down his rod and spread out through his body. Faster... and faster.... more and more..... his hand feverishly fwapping his preponderous pole. The pleasurable friction building up pressure in his titanic testicles causing them to swirl and churn on the inside, until they began to swell. A few more strokes and the feeling was pulsing from his superior sack across his abs and around his ass to his hole. He slowed down once again, trying to take two, three minutes for the last few drags down his dong, and then suddenly..... "AUH! AH! HOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" If Chad could've kept his eyes open, he would've seen his prick spray out like some huge canon sized can of silly string with strands that shot out both all the way across and as long as his bedroom. But, Chad couldn't see it. His head had snapped back, his eyes closed and rolled back, he bit his lower lip until it bled, as strand after strand, rope after rope streamed out from his balls, through his pecker, and across the room. He actually passed out in pleasure, falling asleep in the chair. **************************************************************************** Chad kept himself hidden once again for the next couple of weeks. He was ordering tailored clothes from companies on-line, many whom didn't believe his measurements, until he had a cam to cam meeting with them and showed them how tall the apartment rooms were and where he came up to them. There were a number of these company's representatives that personally called him back and paid him for a small show. He was also making money still with his art pieces, but also appearing on a cam as a model for life drawing classes. Students and teachers gasped and wondered about his size, although for the posing he removed anything from the room that could create a reference for his size. Most of them figured he was 5' 9" at the tallest given the size and shape of his muscles. Thus, two weeks later, Len was ecstatic when he came home, from another piss poor date and seen his lounger returned to his side of the well and then a fully stocked cooler to its left. He sat down and stretched himself past the end of his chair like his body usually did, picked out a beer from the cooler, popped it open, and began to talk. "Chad, hey buddy. How are you?" "Doing well, Len. Very well." "Excellent. Are you over that bug, completely. You still kind of sound very hoarse. Your voice sounds really deep." "Yeah I'm okay. It just kind of...uhm.... affected my vocal chords. This is my new voice." "Wow....kind of givin' me the chills, bro. You sound fuckin' hot. Guys are gonna want to date you just to hear your voice." "That is a possibility. You have a good date tonight?" "Naw... Still same problem: if they're built, hung, or tall, they've all got a chip on their shoulder. If they're nice, they're fairly small, weak, or they don't want to support someone with a lifting lifestyle." "Well.... keep looking you may find someone." "Yeah....in my dreams." Chad reached over to grab another beer and noticed a pair of sandals just slightly in front of the cooler. Ones that were huge... and he was pretty sure was bigger than his. He kicked off his shoes, but took one and placed it beside one of the sandals. "Holy shit, dude! Do you know about these sandals? They're huge fuckers, larger than my shoes, but quite a bit." "About six sizes." "Six si......you mean a size 24?" "Yes." "Gawd... the size of the dawgs on that dude..." "Fifteen and one-third inch long feet." "FIFTEE.... waaaaait a minute. What are these shoes doing here? How do you know the size of the owner's feet? Out with it, you lucky bastard. You found a giant man. Your wish came true!" "No.... not quite. I found a giant man, but my wish didn't come true." "What? You found someone, but they walked out...and left... left their shoes behind?" "No. They didn't leave their shoes behind." "Someone had to leave these behind." "Nope. I just put them there." "What do you mean you just put them there? Did you save up and buy a pair just for fantasy play time, you perve?" Len laughed. "Nope... .... .... I need them." "What do you mean, you need them?" "Exactly that. I need them." "Dude, this is like your fetish controlling you now. You need some help." "No, it's not for my fetish. It's for me. Just me. Just my feet." "Just for you... just for your feet? But why?" "Because, I.... NEED....THEM." Len swiveled in his lounger and sat up, peering slightly around the well and then gasped. There on the lounger on the other side of the well was a body that extended nearly a foot beyond the end of the lounger and with some of the largest feet he had ever seen in his life. "What da fuck?" Said Len as he stood up and walked the short distance around the well. There was the complete body for him to view. Nearly a foot longer than the lounger, arms, delts, lats, and back wider than the lounger and nearly hanging off of it. He looked at the body's face, it was still that of Chad's, but he was a bit more handsome, more rugged, a two to three day old scruff, medium length jet black hair, muscles on top muscles that had muscles, bulging, mounding, looking nearly like some great balloon sculpture, except it was cover in a sexy feather of hair, great streams of blood vessels, lines and scores of striations and muscular definition, and deep crevices. And all of it was this new sun kissed tan from being out most of the day, apparently. There in the middle was this velvet like pouch that clung to something that was thick and long looking. "Chad?" "Yes, Len. It's me." "But how... so... long.... so....big....so .... built....and... what... what... WHAT IS THAT?!" "If you want to know," said Chad pointing to his nipples and chest, "Press the buttons and trace the maze." Len staggered forward and fell to his knees. Letting out gasps of awe at the bunching, mounding, twitching, popping, and flexing mountainous mass of muscle in front of him, he stuck both hands out onto Chad's pecs and cupped them. "Even...for...my hands.... so.... huge...." "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm" Len quickly began to cup and squeeze Chad's pecs. He started running his fingers through Chad's chest hair. He initiated Chad's crotch inflation by rubbing, pinching, and twisting Chad's nipples. "Ooooooooooooooooooooh" Len turned his head to look down to Chad's crotch area as he continued his great fondling exploration of Chad's chest. He shuddered and quaked as he watched in wide-eyed wonder while the bulge in the pouch began to swell and grow. First the ball became larger, then it became more of a u shaped tube, inflating like a great fire hose with water. Then it attempted to continue but the bag was becoming too tight. The strings for the tie weren't releasing and the whole package was shaking. Eventually there was rips being heard and Len stopped his fondling and he watched the great protruding penis began to stretch the pouch, ripping free of its confinement and now achieve it's great straight, long, length and tremendous thickness. Eventually the pouch ripped all the way around, slipped off Chad's anaconda and fell off to the ground. "Oh my gaw..... that's a fuckin' branch! An I-beam. That would... would..." "Do horrible, but wondrous things to your ass." "What?" Chad took Len's hands off his body, turned every so gingerly in the lounger as it groaned, creaked, and sank into ground, and then stood up and up and up. "Oh.... my...." There before Len was his best friend. The man who just a month or so ago, was thin, pasty, and only stood just a fraction above his shoulders. Now there was this muscled behemoth who he only came up to the mouth on. A man when he looked straight out all he could see was a huge, thick neck, mountainous traps, devastating delts, granite slabs of pectorals, and arms that look like they could rip out and crush tree trunks. It completely filled his vision stand close to him. Looking down didn't help either as he saw thighs he swore were thicker round than his waist, calves bigger than his upper arms, and that colossal cock bouncing straight out in the air. Taking his hand and placing it under Len's chin, Chad directed Len's gaze up to his eyes. "I have... .... .... always been in love with you. From the first moment we met retreating from the apartment party. I never expressed my desire for you, once I found out you wanted someone built as big, or as tall as, or bigger than you. I knew it could never happen. But now...." Chad made motion to look down his body, even though he couldn't see anything past his chest, and then did a front double bicep pose. "Now.... I've somehow turned into this. I think... I think I... ... became your wish." Len leaned in and hugged his friend around his chest, lats, and back as best as he could. "Gawd.... you're so....solid.... I .... would love to.... .... to ..... date you." and then Len paused a moment. "But... .... ... you're in worse spot than I was. You can't find a big man to love." With that, Chad picked up Len by his ass and held him up close so Len could attempt to hold on by wrapping his legs around Chad's waist. "I already have found my big man to love. You're not bigger than me now, that's true, but I'm not an ass to think or state that you're small. Even though I'm bigger and stronger, I will not dominate you, although I may have some fun with it. But I will treat your with respect. You're still a decent human being and will be treated as such. You may not ever become as tall or as big as me, but I will love you and support you and help you as you toss weights around, working to get bigger. And my cock doesn't make me better, it's yours. Your toy to play with. I am your mountain to climb." Chad carried Len into his apartment where the flopped onto the bed and caused its collapse. Len dug his hands into every single muscle Chad had, attempting to massage Chad's taps, punching Chad's delts, single and two handed squeezing of Chad's upper arm and then his singular split biceps peak. Len traced Chad's abs down, down, down, until he came face to face with Chad's rod, which he promptly ignored moving instead to groping Chad's calves, and then squeezing each tear drop of Chad's titan like thighs. It was then that Len moved on to the fleshy I-beam jutting out in front of him as he kissed his way up Chad's inner left thigh, cupped and rubbed Chad's massive sack and balls, before gliding his mouth across the shaft and then swallowing the humongous head. Len did work on that long before he rose up and began to suckle on Chad's left nipple, while cupping Chad's right pectoral and rubbing its nipple. The string of hickeys across Chad's chest would take weeks to fade, but it was the hunger in Len's eyes that aroused Chad the most and let him know how far to go. From his position laying across the bed and under Len, Chad grabbed Len by his hips and pulling him up slightly and then in a slow downward pull Len let out a low manly gasp as gargantuan rod that was Chad's cock enter his anus and began to painfully, yet pleasurably stretch his insides to great proportions. Chad teased Len, forcing the ramming to be nearly movie slow motion for twenty, thirty minutes, before he picked up the pace, causing Len to start bouncing slightly. Then as he felt the sensation, THAT sensation build up in him, striking him from the middle of his preponderous pecker, he doubled the speed, tripled the speed of bouncing and ramming, further and harder. Len attempted to hold on by grabbing, clinching, a hold of Chad's traps and delts, before he finally gave in and held around Chad's neck, after realizing he couldn't make a strong enough hold to dent, let alone choke, Chad. Chad moaned, groaned, began to bellow in pleasure. Len began to groan, cry, scream in addictive pain. Until Chad reached down and stroked Len's cock as he shoved Len down one more time upon his shaft all the way to the base, and then both men roared. The sound of two bellowing behemoths echoed within the small apartment as Len shot what he swore was the largest load he ever produced, and felt the largest load ever produced in his ass by Chad. The two collapsed, breathless, and asleep. The night was, of course, far from done. There was still another round of groping and tracing, carrying and lifting in the kitchen. There was the engulfing cuddling session in the living room while watching a movie. There was the size comparison of hands, feet, upper arms, pants, shirts, shoes, "equipment", and standard sized objects to the towering Chad in the dining room.There was the kissing, the soaping, the fondling in the shower, followed by the laying and relaxing, with Len's fingers running through Chad's body hair, on the bed, until the pair fell asleep once again. If the two men had hung out before, they were completely inseparable now. With the exception of work, wherever one went the other was soon to follow. This was especially true in the gym, where Chad was true to his word. He helped Len to build and bulk his body up as much as he could, being there to help spot and encourage Len during his workouts and to push him to some greater amounts of weight and more reps. It was only a couple of months after Chad's growth and his and Len's first sleeping together that they made a stop at a big and tall store to pick up some new shoes for Chad. He had tried them on, walked around in them a little bit, and then sat down to look at them, or rather their reflection in the mirror. "What do you think? They turn out ok?" "Yeah, Chad. They turned out fine, why?" "Just wanting to make sure." rip. "uh... not sure if I like them. Not sure if this was the design I liked or..." ri-ip rip rip rip. "Oh no. They don't fit." "What do you mean they don't fit? They look fine to me." "Don't you hear that?" "Hear... ... " rip ri-i-ip riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip "That! That must mean I've just blown out of these shoes. Am I growing again?" "Chad, hon. I don't see any tears on your shoes. They look fine." "I don't feel any air on exposed feet. Where is that sound..." riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip It was then in the mirror reflection that the two men saw Len's feet break free from his shoes. The couple smiled and Chad said, "C'mon, bro. Let's pay for my shoes, and get you home to try on my clothes."
  3. Greetings. I kind of wound up writing a book, but given the premise of the story, it kind of had to go long. I however hope you enjoy it. - Frank The Cruise by F_R_Eaky "You're only going on this trip because I called you plain and simple." Ethan Olson paused at the bottom of the gangplank, recalling some of the last words his boyfriend, Noah Hansen, said to him before he boarded the plane for Athens, Greece. Having met in college their sophomore year at frat party where Noah was working the crowd and Ethan was pretty much a wall flower, somehow sparks flew, and the pair really did seem to love each other completely, totally, and even moved into an apartment together their Senior year. But where as one, Noah, seemed more energetic and active being slightly tall at 6 '1", athletic with a soccer/rugby kind of build, outgoing personality, and mischievous puppy dog brown eyes, hidden under a bouncy mop of rich, burnt umber colored hair with sun kissed highlights, the other, Ethan, was a quieter, shier, man with a body a bit shorter, average height at 5 '9", and a soft average build, just before crossing over into being slightly pudgy, with pale, almost olive colored eyes that he kept downward, dark, drab brown hair, both of which were lacking in vibrancy and saturation. Some joking around at their friend Mark's birthday party led to the more manly Noah, scoffingly picking up the flamboyant Mark's latest top woman's magazine and reading through the test to see who the outgoing person is in one's relationship. He of course pretty much knew and therefore answered all the questions for Ethan, and when Ethan protested a bit, stated, "Honey, I know you. You're as plain as untoasted milk-toast. You're quiet and simple, but I love you, anyway." It wasn't that true of a statement. Truth of the matter was Noah liked to try new things. He didn't enjoy, appreciate, or participate in them all, but he was willing to explore, but still he was a bit more vanilla than any exotic flavor in his living habits. Still, Ethan on the other had grew up in a very conservative home all quiet and subdued, daily schedules, things planned, not a lot of spice - even on the food. And although out in college, it was still a well kept secret from Mom and Dad as, of course, the lifestyle was considered taboo. In college Ethan didn't get out that much, and he certainly didn't get to know the wilder side of the LGBTQ community, with the exception of Noah, who was pretty much a low key country bumpkin compared to most, but at least he'd been out to let go and explore. It was this that was the problem. Noah was always trying to get Ethan to join in on new things, positions, fairs, getaways, music, clubs, but Ethan focused solely on his studies... well....that and his boyfriend who flexing for him and jokingly held him down and slowly screwed him until Ethan thought his brains would explode, or tickling him until he thought he'd piss his pants. And so with the announcement from Noah's lips that Ethan was plain and simple, Ethan began to wonder if he wasn't enough for Noah. If Noah was dissatisfied with him as a boyfriend, a lover, a partner, especially when it came to sex. Ethan wasn't tiny, came in just over average at 6 inches erect, but Noah wasn't much larger at 6.5 inches. However the last few weeks they seemed to be kind of drifting apart. They had arguments over the incident, whether Ethan was or was not too much of a stick in the mud, and then lately it seemed for no reason at all. Both of them at twenty-three years old had recently graduated from college with their Bachelor's degree. Noah was continuing on with his master's courses, while Ethan chose to tackle a master's degree later and had taken a job with a very prestigious local company, and as such had already earned by this time a two-week vacation. When a notification from Human Resources announcing his need to schedule vacation time came across his desk at the same time as an ad for a gay Mediterranean cruise, and after another morning row before work with Noah, Ethan decided he had had enough. The stress of getting everything done for graduation, searching for a job, starting and being the new man at a job, the arguments, cold shoulders, and heavy quietness with Noah at home... ... ... it was too much and he needed to relieve the stress. Get away from it all. He didn't even think. He grabbed the phone called the number and booked the cruise. Single bed. Knowing that Noah couldn't take time off from classes to go with him. He would show Noah. He could be spontaneous. He could do things on his own. He would have fun. He would explore! He would... "Ay Dios Mio! What is the matter chico? You're standing at the bottom of the runway looking up at the ship like you're Kate Winslet looking at the Titanic. Chu loco? Whachu standin' here for anyway? The ship doesn't board for another two hours?" Ethan turned to face the person speaking to him. It was an exceptionally beautiful, slim and curvy, black, Latino woman, albeit an exceptionally tall one who towered over Ethan by a good foot. Looking at her up and down he noticed she had her ebony hair up in a huge beehive hairdo, and wore clothes that were one, very form fitting, two, extremely stereotypical of Latin fashion, colors, and makeup, and three, barely contained her breasts that were so ample, one almost swore they were blown up with air. Suddenly there was a loud sound, like an operatic soprano just belting out a high note attempting to break glass. Ethan's eyes looked past the towering black woman to see a slightly less tall, slightly tanned woman with blond hair, hat, sunglasses, and clothes that portrayed a cross between New York chic and Broadway. "Cacao! Quit being so brazen with this young man.... Hmmmm fine young man he is too. A tad short, but I'm sure he could find some leading rolls somewhere." "Like chour bedroom? Back off miss thang! Chu have no business messing with this pollo. And I waz simply trying to get chkim to move outta da way, so back off puta!" "Puta! Bitch, you are such a baldracca." "Baldracca! Baldracca? Bish you ain't even Italian. ¡chinga tu madre!" "I am one-hundred percent pure Italian." "Oh, chez. Chou're pure all right..... pure as New York, snow!.... After the cars have driven on it..... and the dogs have pooped in it..... and los chicos have written sus nombres...." "Guuurl! you gonna get a heel right up your...." Ethan stood there watching the bickering bitch fest unfolding in front of him when the realization came upon him... "Adam's apples. They're men..... dressed exceedingly like women....but way too gaudy...." He stilled his thumping heart and slowed his breathing down. "Drag queens. I've just met my first drag queens. It's alright. New experience. Sure they are fine....hmmmmm will learn from this more about gay life....and.....yeah." "LA-dieeeeeees! Cacao, Cadence. Oy vez! Can you not see you're scaring this poor chicken? He's been struck dumb in fear." "More like he's been struck in awe at my presence. Not my fault anyway, Hazel. Talk to this perra here. She's the one that started so hot and rude against him. Couldn't just simply ask for him to move. Gotta go in hot, foaming at the mouth." "I go in hot because I am hot!" SNAP! "Cacao Caliente de Malaviscos, and you know he was looking at me because everyone wants a taste..." "Oy vey iz mir! Save it for the introductions when we're on, Cacao. Look, bubele, come here to Momma Hazel." and Hazel who was closer to Ethan's height, although taller due to heels, with a gigantic, bulbous bouffant of grey hair, electric blue eye-shadow, and a frumpy frock that was all in blue & white with a baby blue cardigan sweater on, What's your name, hon?" "uhm....Ethan." "Ethan....from Eitan, and good Jewish name like all my brothers and cousins had, unlike the one momma gave me! FEH! Now, you don't worry about these two. Their growls are enormous, but they have such small bites they might as well have no teeth. Now if you're heading on this cruise, we're going to be part of the staff; the ones with class mind you. We serve as hostesses and kind of like the event directors. Is this your first time on one of these cruises, dear?" "Er...Yes." "Well that's wonderful. Now, let me point out, the passengers' entrance is over there. The gang plank that runs into the pop up pergola. They'll be opening up in about an 'owah and forty-five minutes. We'll be greeting you once everyone is on board. If you need anything or feel lawst during the trip, you come to one of us, okay?" And after Ethan gave a few small nods, Hazel turned and waved her hands barking commands at Cacao and Cadence. "Every year they bring me on to keep the peace between you two detrimental divas. Gevalt!" "But mamma! chee started it..." "Cacao, no! I did nawt get my mornin' cawffee today, I am not in the mood. I am wearing a Stahr of David necklace with many sharp points. Don't make me stuff it up your chawc'late ass! UP! up Up UP UP UP UP!" And the trio left Ethan to go to the passengers' boarding area and wait. ***************************************************************** It didn't seem that long until boarding time to Ethan. Once again he got lost in thought as he looked up at the gigantic cruise ship, the Queen Amphitrite, owned by Poseidon's Pride cruise line. Surrounding the ship's name on the sides and underneath were a merman and mermaid, presumably portraying Amphitrite and Poseidon, their glittery pink and teal tails shimmering in the sun. Up the gang plank, into doors, down the elevators, and through the corridors, Ethan took a little longer than most navigating the maze of the ship to get to his room, a single cabin he paid extra for, that was small, and was located on one of the lowest levels of the ship before reaching staff, storage, and engine rooms, and had only a tiny portal window, the view of which was primarily covered with a lifeboat. He unpacked his clothes, took a shower, and decided upon a nap before the evening's Welcoming & Mixer Party. When it was time for that he put on a simple t-shirt, some khakis, and some olive colored boat shoes and headed up to the pool deck, which had been decorated with multi-colored streamers, lights, and a DJ booth. He paused a good long while before heading into the main part of the deck. There were so many men...in the hundreds.....all like him....gay. Yet even though he had that in common with them, he felt...small. So many men were tall, very tall, or built, chiseled, hung. They were tall and built. If not tall and built they were very tall. If not tall at all they were built. If neither tall nor built, they were hung. On the rare occasion some were all three. And then there were the ones he knew to be called bears, either fairly muscled or pleasantly plump but covered in a great amount of hair. Men were on deck, in lounge chairs, in the pool, on the sides, some dressed casually, some shirtless, some in swim trunks or board shorts, some in speedos, and some were even nude. He felt unimpressive and most assuredly plain. After the welcoming and introductions, he listened to the ship's schedule that was briefly run through by the trio of drag queens he met earlier: Hazel Tov, Cadence Alcoda, and Cacao Caliente de Malaviscos, plus the addition of Luca, a 6' 4", dirty blond haired, blue eyed, and well chiseled man who wore a pair of tight broad shorts, white boat shoes, and a sash that read "Mr. Eros Cruise 2017". Ethan then tried to mingle with a glass of iced tea, and small step dancing off in a corner. It seemed, however, wherever he went, the crowd seemed to shift, shutting him out and leaving him alone. Guys were walking past him and greeting old returning friends with bright smiles, firm handshakes, passionate kisses, or groping hands. They did the same to new friends as well, after coming up and whispering in their ear. Everyone made a connection except Ethan. Sighing he walked over to one of the side rails and stared out into the ocean. Closing his eyes he wished his could go back to Athens and get lost in the ruins once again. "But no" he thought. "I must work up the courage. I need to stay here, keep going, and get to those places and attend events so I can have fun and gain experience...something....anything...." Suddenly there was a tremendous crash of water. Turning towards the sound he saw the deck, rails, and outer walls of the rooms drenched and dripping with water almost as if a single wave had jumped up on that particular spot of deck. He heard the sound of a couple of guys laughing and running down the deck above as they drug a number of large buckets behind them. Following the path from the floor above down to the deck below, Ethan gasped when he actually noticed what was in the dead center of the strike zone. There was a man sitting in a wheel chair. His long black, grey, and silver hair and beard now soaking wet and plastered against his head, neck, and chest. His t-shirt was soaked and form fitting now to his body which was a carved, Greek sculpture of the finest athletic form, but then his legs were covered with a thoroughly saturated blanket and they revealed exceptionally thin and atrophied legs. Ethan snapped to, running towards the man and crying out, "Are you alright?" "Yes... yes... yes...I am fine." The man stated with a Greek accent. "It started on these cruises years ago and became a tradition. 'SOAK THE CRIPPLE!' and they dump huge buckets of water on me." "That's horrible! Always you? Every year?" "Yes, but I take it in stride. I made them stick the tradition at the beginning of the cruise. First night. And always out here on the deck. That way I can at least enjoy the rest of the cruise in peace. You however looked like you were the one dowsed in water just before I got drenched. Are you all right?" Ethan bashfully chuckled. "Oh... I'm ok. I'm just....nervous. First time here on a cruise like this.... on a cruise of any kind. In fact it's the first time I've ever left the safety of my own hometown and state, let alone my country." "My... you took the long or triple jump for your first step out, didn't you?" Ethan laughed. "Yeah...guess I did." "So why the sudden need to step out and see the world?" "Ahhhhh. I'm not here to talk about my problems. Especially to other folks here on a vacation. Let's just say the basic thing is I was called plain, simple, uninventive, unexciting, non-spontaneous by friends and family and I decided to prove them wrong." "Sounds like you're on a quest then. Bet you've got your party outfits planned well and big then don't you?" "Party outfits? I just have some regular clothes." "Regular clothes!? You are aware every evening party is themed?" "What? No....I..." "Did you read the itinerary before you purchased your tickets? Didn't you listen to our host and hostesses about what was going on?" "No... I....thought...a cruise...was just...I didn't....really.... pay attention...." "And the hero goes off on a quest without any armor, shield, or sword. Well, I give you points for daring on that. Listen, my name is Ándras Okeanós. What is the name of the man who rushed to my aid?" "oh! Uhm... I'm Ethan. Ethan Olson." And Ándras stuck his hand out to shake Ethan's saying, "Well then, Ethan. I've been on many of these cruises, and as someone who has frequent cruising point and a handicapped person, I have the ability to bring and house a plethora of outfits....plus I sell pearls, so I can afford the larger rooms. What say I take you under my wing to help you navigate the rapids known as Poseidon's Pride Eros Cruise 2018?" Ethan stood there in the handshake moment and stared in to the great teal colored eyes of this man, Ándras, and eventually his stance relaxed, he smiled and agreed to Ándras' assistance. "Wonderful, my new friend. I must go and get dried off. I am in the Triton Suite deck 13. Come calling at nine in the morning, we'll have breakfast and discuss how we shall dress you for each event." Ethan thanked Ándras and then turned to head back to the party deck as Ándras wheeled himself into a lobby and then elevator. ***************************************************************************** In the morning Ethan, after much direction seeking, finally arrived at Ándras' suite at around nine-fifteen. After being invited in, the pair had a very excellent breakfast that had been delivered to Ándras' room. After that they pulled out the itinerary and saw that the party for this evening was to be a disco party. Ándras pulled out a number of different outfits, but Ethan wasn't sure, nor comfortable on any of them, being pretty self conscious about his body. Ándras told Ethan not to worry about it, gays liked the shape of man in various forms. Despite that an hour later Ethan hadn't decided upon an outfit yet and Ándras was becoming slightly exasperated. Just then the door to his bedroom opened and out stepped two men, one was a 6' 4", dirty blond haired, blue eyed, well chiseled, decently hung, and nude man, while the other was a 5' 4" smooth, thin, nearly hairless man with reddish hair, olive eyes, and was wearing a coat that fit him like a large bathrobe. "Morning, men." said Ándras. "Guten morgen...." said the taller man as his stumbled strode his way into the bathroom and then the shower turned on. The other man smiled sleepily and just nodded in Ándras and Ethan's direction. "Ethan, I believe you will recognize the taller man was Mr. Luca Mannheim, our current Mr. Eros Cruise 2017, and the diminutive cutie here is Bran O’Seannaig, from Ireland, he's been on this cruise about four years now..." "Six..." said Bran as he sloppily plopped down into a dining chair and stuffed a biscuit into his mouth while pouring a cup of hot tea. "Six? My..... time flies when having fun. He is a friend that you could say was once a protégé like you are now." Suddenly Ándras let out a gasp of epiphany that made Ethan jump and Bran accidentally fling his biscuit across the room. "I have it! Since you won't choose anything, Ethan, I shall choose it for you." and wheeling over to his trunk of clothes and costumes, he pulled out what looked like leather chaps, a towel, and what looked like a vest made out of beads. "Luca, Bran, two other friends, and myself are going to tonight's disco party as the Village People, but we are a man short. You will fill in the part of the Indigenous American for us." "Oh... I don't know.... I mean he's like shirtless and I... I just..." "No! I won't hear of it. The day is short and you need to decide now. It is settled." At that moment Luca came out of the bathroom still slightly dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets cascading down every mound and crevice of his muscles. "In fact, your day, Ethan is planned. I must to the spa and Jacuzzi section for my back and body, so Luca, if you would be a gentleman, take Mr. Olson here with you as you accompany folks while exploring the port of Mykonos today. Don't have to babysit him, just make sure he doesn't turn right back around for the ship. Make him explore. Ethan, go drop off the costume in your stateroom and meat Luca back at the embarking doors in no later than forty minutes." ***************************************************************************** Ethan did as he was told and did enjoy himself, even went off to explore some of the historical and tourist spots on his own, breaking the spine on his Greek translation book quite quickly. Luca was politely and professionally cordial, but Ethan could tell, after a couple of long looks from Luca, Luca wasn't interested him in the slightest. In fact, seemed a little disappointed. Ándras, Luca, Bran, and Ethan met and had dinner with each other, in the cabaret area that night where Cadence Alcoda not only hosted but performed several songs, revealing she was a counter-tenor, a man with a voice nearly as high as a female soprano, thus one of the few drag queens who could not only sing well, but sing without breaking the illusion of being female. After dinner and the show, everyone went back to their room to put on their costumes to meet for the Disco Dance Party. Doubt crept up over Ethan. There were leather chaps trimmed in fringe, and a loin cloth, but it only had one side. His ass would be exposed. Then there wasn't any shirt, just this vest...this beaded breastplate? Some moccasin slippers were next, followed by a grand headdress that Ethan swore might have looked real. An honest to goodness, actual, correctly hand crafted headdress from one of the nations of America's indigenous people. Releasing a sigh, he put everything on and headed out the door and up to the main party deck. The temperature seemed to drop a bit this evening, and as he walked down the long deck towards the front of the ship, a mist rose from the sea and began to swirl around Ethan. Merely at his feet first, but then it encased him like a cocoon. As he continued walking, his cheeks began to melt away and sink in a little, revealing more and more of his cheek bones. His neck became thinner and the small bubble that was beginning to become a second chin faded into non-existence. His man boobs, that had just started to form on him towards the end of college, shrank and his chest became flat and smooth, while his little pooch of a belly began to recede. Everywhere his body slimmed down and toned up a bit. He wasn't bulky by any shape, but he was defined. He very much looked the part of the thin but taut Filipe Rose from the 1970's. He met up with Ándras who was dressed up as the cop, including a car with flashing and strobe spot lights that fit over his wheel chair, Bran who was dressed as a Sailor representing the military, Luca who was dressed as a construction worker, another 6' 4" but much beefier, muscled man with thick brown hair and green eyes, named Miguel, from Puerto Rico, who was dressed as the leather man, and Stephan, a 6' 8" tall man from America, with honey blond hair and piercing blue eyes, who although dressed as a cowboy, looked as though he were wearing clothes from his everyday life. Ethan had a good time at this party. With this new crowd of friends he was pulled into the center of the crowd. He had many complements on both his outfit, and his body, which he was confused over, but took it stride. He had to stop several times while dancing as the group was asked to pose for pictures, not to mention he felt his ass groped and pinched several times. But the thing that really got him was the fact that he noticed Luca couldn't stop staring at him. He kept wondering if had put some part of the costume on wrong, or had he spilled something on it? Everything began to blur... the crowd...the lights....the dancing.....and the drinks.... Over the course of the night, the crowd had thinned. Miguel and Stephan had paired off and gone to bed. Ándras called it an evening and wheeled himself back to his suite, while Bran seemed miffed about something and stormed off. The DJ slowed down the dance music a bit for couples dances and suddenly there was Luca, face to face with Ethan, his body extremely close...too close. Luca's hand came out and over, cupping Ethan's ass and pulling him close. The other hand travelled up Ethan's arm and to the back of his head. Looking down at Ethan he whispered, "I love twinks..." Ethan stood there kind of frozen in time, his heart pounding a million beats per second. Luca still starring at him stated once more with a whispered strength and compassion, "I really love twinks." With that Luca easily picked up Ethan by the ass as he bent in and gave him a full lip to lip kiss. Carrying him across the deck as he kissed every inch of Ethan's face, neck, and shoulders. After bursting through the gym doors, he deposited Ethan on top of a stacked set of weight plates, ripped off the loin cloth, and proceeded to go down on Ethan. Ethan's head swam. His heart exploded. His legs became jelly. At some point the winds carried him aloft and he was soon on a fairly large, billowing cloud, with Luca over him and a feeling of great enormous pleasure thrusting in him over and over and over..... ************************************************************************* A knock on the door startled Ethan awake. He then went into a slight panic mode as the room he was in was not his. His billowing cloud was the soft sheets and mattress of a suite bed, but how did he get here? Luca... Yes, Luca came onto him on the dance floor, whisked him away somewhere to go down on him and then carried him here to his suite. Luca loved twinks. Suddenly Ethan's cock sprang to all six inches of solid life. Thoughts of Luca were turning him on. He stared down at his cock in disbelief and then went to look up into the mirror to look at himself eye to eye, to debate the pleasure and guilt going through his mind right now. "AUUUGH!" He screamed as he suddenly noticed his body for the first time. He was trim. He was fit. He was slender. Where was his chubbiness? Where was the small roll he had around his waistline? A moment after the scream, the door flew open and in rolled Ándras with a tray laden with food. After a second scream of shock and a clamoring backwards to the headboard of the bed, Ándras greeted Ethan pleasantly. "Good Morning, Ethan. I trust you had a wonderful, albeit tiring, evening with Luca last night?" "I.... I....My body....I've.... I've...." "Racked with pleasure and pain from Mr. Mannheim, I take it?" "Well... yes... but you see... I'm thin... " "Yes, you are, and probably exhausted from your adventure last night with Luca. Here... have some of this." "But you don't understand my body it...ah...." and Ethan chewed and swallowed whatever it was Ándras stuffed in his mouth. "That was...buttery...and salty....kind of tasty. But listen, you have to understand I...." "I decided to bring you a good hearty breakfast, well brunch, since I didn't see nor hear you come out of Luca's suite this morning." Ándras said as he stuffed another something in Ethan's mouth. "These are escargot, French style cooked snails. You've already had two without a problem, so don't run and vomit now. I also had them bring up some oysters, croissants: plain with butter, and chocolate, bacon -everyone around the world seems to be almost sexually in love with bacon these days- hot herbal tea and mimosas." "But you don't understand I've lost weight and..." Ethan wasn't sure but for a moment he swore he could see a crash of waves within Ándras' teal eyes. In an instant he forgot all about how he lost weight and decided his hunger really was too much, after all the fun he had last night. He dove into the tray of food. "Well," said Ándras. "It won't be too hard to find an outfit for you this evening. The theme for today is 'neon!' I'm sure I have some neon colored clothes for you to wear and I'll pick up some of the neon regular or snap and glow items to wear like necklaces, sunglasses, bracelets, all to go with the clothes and the make-up. "In the meantime, after your breakfast, we are going out to see the sites of Kusadasi, Turkey where we are docked for the day. Hmmmmmm Turkish coffee..... I hope you like it, son, because we are stopping somewhere for some; I am so addicted, and I'm gonna drink until I'm filled to the gills." Just then a knock and a voice was heard, "Mr. Okeanós?" "Ándras, please, Metin, and we're next door in Luca's suite." The open door opened wider and in stepped a very tan man, with jet black hair cut slightly long on top, but a very close and trimmed beard, which surrounded some very pillow like lips, while the hair style surrounded brown eyes so deep and dark they were almost black. All of this was on top of a man about 6' tall and pushing 300 pounds of muscle that were straining an ivory colored, mesh-net, sleeveless, muscle shirt, along with some gauzy pants, and leather sandals. "Ethan, this is Mr. Metin Katıtaş. He will help be our guide today." Mr. Katıtaş gave a nod and smile at Ethan saying, "Metin, please." Ethan smiled and nodded back stating his name as his hand reached for a pillow to put in front of his already covered crotch. Metin smiled even broader. The trio got off at Kusadasi, enjoying the beach and pool of the city for a couple of hours. Metin purposefully kept performing something like backward push-ups to lower himself into the pool so Ethan could catch a maximum view of his thick, bulging, and veiny muscles, not to mention his crotch in his tight speedos. It wasn't any better when they took a quick trip to the ruins of Ephesus with Metin straining his muscles to help push and pull Ándras in his wheel chair, or occasionally assist in holding hands with Ethan to steady or guide him, or using his hands to actually hoist and pick Ethan up as though he were no more than a five pound weight. Every minute it seemed Metin was doing whatever he could to bounce a pec here, or pop a bicep there, or to stretch and raise his shirt hem over the first two rows of abdominals, which he would then crunch. Poor Ethan thought he was going to cream his pants every minute of every hour. Back on board. The trio enjoyed dinner in one of the fancier restaurants that night; Ándras and Metin dressed in tuxedos, while Ethan was dressed in some business clothes borrowed from Ándras. There was a band playing and Metin pulled Ethan out onto the dance floor to dance with him a couple of times. One set being a slow dance and although Metin was only three inches taller than Ethan, Ethan feel so incredibly small next to Metin. Metin's shoulder and chest width seemed to go on forever at this close a view, not to mention the arms that Ethan thought had to be as big around as his waist. Dinner and dancing over, the men changed into clothes for the neon party. Well, Ándras and Ethan did. Ándras was in colors of florescent green, blue, and teal, in shirt, shorts, bands, and make up. Ethan was covered in shades of blues and purples with an accent of yellow here and there. Metin wore a posing brief with long fringe hanging in front and back, along with some gladiator boot like sandals both in hot pinks and reds. Similar colors of make-up where applied to him with the pinks outlining every crevice of his musculature and the red tracing his plump veins. Ándras spent a good long time applying make-up to Ethan's face... thick bold stripes along the cheekbones, but not quite following them. Heavy lines along Ethan's jaw as well, some lighter ones across his nose, and then there was a blending of some electric blue along Ethan's hair line and eyebrows, followed by a dusting of hot blue powder into Ethan's hair. Having taken a bit of time to get Ethan done up, Luca showed up and took Metin to the party deck ahead of Ándras and Ethan. Ándras still needed some extra time, so he sent Ethan ahead down to the party. Once again Ethan hit that stretch of deck leading to the front of the ship. There was a sudden gust of wind that felt a little icy, then it warmed up and Ethan could feel the sea spray misting his face. He thought to himself, "I hope this doesn't wash off all this make up." The spray began to come at him more and more, harder and harder on the faster and more furious breeze. It stung his nose, it felt as though it was slicing his cheeks, and his jaw line racked with pain. His eyes began to water and his hair slowly became saturated from the flying sea foam. The sea mist and salt filled his lungs, grasped at his throat - he couldn't breathe. Ethan was panicked. Just short of reaching the party area Ethan put his hands to his face and then ran his fingers through his hair, shaking it. There was a loud whoosh of wind and the sound of a wave crash despite the calm sea and suddenly... ... ... Ethan was fine. His hair wasn't wet, his face didn't sting, he could breathe. Thinking that he might not have had enough to eat or drink at dinner, Ethan went straight for the snack buffet section out on the party deck. He must be woozy from dehydration or a little malnutrition. He stood there noshing for quite some time until a gentleman approached him. "Forget to eat or sleep through dinner?" There next to him was a good looking middle aged man about 5' 4" tall with a good stocky gymnast, or more correctly power lifter's build. He had short cropped salt and pepper hair on top, two day old scruff for a beard and mustache, and a good amount of hair covering his chest, abs, forearms, and legs. which was seen poking out of his white with hot pink trimmed tank top and his electric blue shorts. Ethan turned to face the man who was talking with him. "I've often forget to eat dinner or I sleep through it on these trips. You just get carried away with it... ..... ...GOOD GAWD!" Ethan jerked back wondering why the man just exclaimed so loudly while looking upon him. "I'm... I'm sorry. It's just your face..." "My face? What about my face?" "Good lord, are you humble or blind?" "What?" "You look like a model. Seriously... those high cheek bones, the full lips, the square jaw, that thick jet black hair and day old stubble, and those eyes.... they're striking like ice blue eyes, but they're green. It's like...sapphires..no...too dark, not brilliant enough. More like.... two peridot gems set in your head." "Uhm I think the lighting has you seeing things my eyes..." "Oh and that voice. Such a deep rich bass. It rumbles my body from my chest all the way down to my groin.... good gawd it just drips sexy. Listen, I know this may sound forward or like a cliché pick up line, but could I take some pictures of you and draw you?" "What?" "My name is Jason Walker. I am a photographer and artist, and I would seriously love to take some pictures of your face. I mean... my gawd, man. If it weren't for the fact of you having green eyes and black hair, someone would think you to be a younger, still runner style built, brother of Adam Charlton. Speaking of hot British men...come, meet Arthur. He's another man that has the look for modeling." And with that Ethan was dragged out onto the dance floor to meet Arthur, a man of 6' 3" height with a 220 pound smooth, chiseled physique with strawberry blond hair and deep green eyes. Jason tapped Arthur on the shoulder and went to make introductions, but Arthur turned and looked at Ethan and nearly dropped to his knees proclaiming how handsome Ethan was. He shuddered and shook when Ethan replied and Ethan's rumbling voice rolled over his body. Ethan attempted to be polite, proclaim how he wasn't anything special and excuse himself, but other men wondered what the fuss was about that Arthur had made and turned to look at Ethan. Many men whistled, some howled, some pretended to act like they were cumming on the spot, and all of them proclaimed him to be one of the most handsome men on the ship and that if he wasn't a twink body wise, he could have any, if not every, man on this ship. It startled him when some expressed their approval of his looks by just coming up and kissing him directly. The attention filled Ethan up, made him feel giddy. So happy he was, he was almost punch-drunk now in actions and movement. Jason and Arthur stuck next to him dancing, squeezing him into a great gyrating sandwich and when the neon powder came out, they ripped off his shirt and began to make handprints and rub the chalk all over him. Eventually Jason couldn't take it anymore. "I need you two, in my stateroom... NOW!" And grabbing both men by their hand, he lead them off the party deck, back to his stateroom, where he threw them on the bed and had them make out as he took shot after shot after shot of them on his digital camera and roll after roll on his regular camera in black and white film. The more pictures he took, the more bothered he became and finally after taking a few specific shots, which he muttered something about it making a great painting and a better calendar, his stripped his shorts off, ripped off his tank top and crawled into the now color stained bed. Ethan was so caught up in the size and feeling of Arthur, then being sandwiched with the addition of Jason, he simply let go and while his body was relaxed to receive either Jason or Arthur, his face and lips went to town kissing and giving hickeys all over their bodies. ***************************************************************************** It wasn't early in the morning when Ethan woke up, but it was early enough that for the most part, only the crew was up and about on the ship making preparations for the day's activities. Leaving Jason's bed as gingerly as he could, Ethan spent a few minutes attempting to find his clothes, remembering and realizing his shirt had been torn off of him and he could find his shorts nowhere within Jason's stateroom. He thought he vaguely recalled the three of them standing on the balcony and attempting to fly his shorts like some kind of flag and away they went. Wrapping himself up in one of the bed sheets that now looked like a long, tie-dyed toga on him, he made his way out of stateroom and through the corridors to get back to his small stateroom several floors below. Along the way a number of the crew and some guests saw him, each one smiling a smile with the knowing look of, "I know what you've been doing." There were however also quite a few smiles, winks, and whispered comments on who the man with the model like face was. After a shower, a change into clothes, and a quick bite of a brunch in one of the ship's restaurants, Ethan decided he was going to get out by himself this day. Two nights of extreme....well, partying... was very tiring, although he did enjoy it very much. He also wasn't sure if he wanted company right now. Between some pangs of guilt, thinking about Noah, and the people that seemed to be treating him like an extremely handsome superstar, he felt it might be best to be alone. Not to mention that his brain was trying to process what he was seeing in the mirror. His cheek bones were much higher and more angled. His jaw was slightly wider, much squarer, his nose had narrowed a bit, his eyes had indeed turned a vibrant shade of green, and his hair had darkened into an ebony colored mane around his head. He didn't recognize himself. He felt like he was in a movie about invasion of the body swappers. He especially didn't understand how his new friends could recognize him, or if his old ones back home would. Or Noah... ... ... The ship was anchored at a port in Rhodes, Greece, so Ethan decided to take off and see the sites. The area where the Colossus of Rhodes stood, the Acropolis of Rhodes, the Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes, and several other areas he visited during his day time excursion. He even had his picture taken several times by fellow passengers from the cruise who simply had to get a selfie with one of the most handsome men they ever met. Of course, a number of them commented that if he were taller and bigger built, they'd leave boyfriends, husbands, some men even said their wives for him. Around midday, Ethan was walking around a small little bay along the coastline of the island. It wasn't marked on any of the tourists' guides nor maps. There wasn't a lot of traffic but there were some men in a slightly hidden area along the shore, standing there with hands raised. Ethan wondered if this was some new, modern cult to the Greco-Roman Gods, and then it struck him, he knew these men. It was Bran O’Seannaig, Metin Katıtaş, and Luca Mannheim. Bran stepped forward and poured a bottle of wine into the ocean, followed by Metin casting various flowers upon the tide, and then finally Luca looked as though he was throwing golden jewelry into the sea. After all the gold was cast and sunk, the trio peeled their clothes off, walked about mid calve deep into the water and then proceeded to jerk off until they came and came, their cum mixing with the foam of the sea. As if responding, a wave grew up from the ocean, moved towards and then around the three men, scooping them up and pulling them into the small bay. The three men swam and played with each other and acted as if they were being caressed by unseen hands. Ethan thought he'd go ahead and let them enjoy their moment and turned to leave but suddenly froze. There, on the entrance of the ancient, small, weather worn path, at its beginning was a fresco in a niche carved into the rock. The face had eroded off over time, but the hair was still there, and the eyes...bright....teal....eyes. Ethan was sure he had seen those exact eyes before, but couldn't recall where. He stood there a while and felt as though he should do something, but wasn't sure what. Eventually, shaking himself awake while realizing he needed to get back to the ship, he pulled out some Greek coins and left them in the niche. Arriving for dinner, Ándras asked questions of how Ethan's day went between various people singing karaoke as egged on by the loud and guilt maker queen, Hazel Tov. Ethan wasn't sure why it was, but Ándras certainly looked stronger and healthier this evening. In fact Ethan almost swore Ándras was glowing. But before Ethan could ask his friend how his day was, Ándras' thoughts turned to what Ethan was wearing for this evening's party: Where Are You From? "Oh.... I don't having anything." "Well, that's very unusual for an American." "Don't suppose you could assist me again, could you?" "Not really. I'm Greek. Bran is Irish. Metin is Turkish, Luca is German, and I don't think we have red, white, and blue make-up to paint on you." Ethan looked a little deflated and depressed at hearing this news, but then Ándras spoke up. "Well... I did have one friend who was originally coming on this cruise, but had to cancel at the last minute. I had packed a couple of things for him. You could wear them and just fake it." "Oh? Is he Canadian?" "No...he's Dutch." "The Netherlands? But they speak Dutch. How am I...." "Most of them all speak English as well." "But it's like land of the giants and I'm land of the short average." "It will be fine, just wing it. Be adventuresome." Arriving back at Ándras' suite, Ándras pulled out a pair of shorts with the flag of the Netherlands printed on them and then a good sized flag of the Netherlands and pinned it around Ethan's neck as though it were a cape. Shirtless and shoeless, Ethan wondered if this really was an appropriate outfit to wear, but figured as little as he had seen many of the men wearing so far on this trip, he was fine. Before they left, Ándras gave Ethan a gift of a necklace made out of coral with a nautilus shell for a pendant, and they walked to the elevators. Many of the men were greeting Ándras as well as Bran and Luca as they walked onto the party deck. The crowd had opened up a bit so they could get to the center, meeting Metin there. Men were dancing with flags of their country on like capes, like togas, sarongs, beach towels, or with hats, glasses, bracelets and necklaces and other accessories with the flag or colors of their nation. While dancing it seemed a fog had formed out at sea and was beginning to engulf the boat. Lots of men laughed and joked making scary and moaning noises, some twirled their hands or flags to create patterns in the mist. Not too long after the mist started, Ethan turned to look at and dance with Bran, who suddenly seemed to get smaller. "He must be doing a dance move with bent knees." Thought Ethan, especially after Bran sunk lower, and then lower again. Spinning around to tell Metin, Luca, and Ándras too look at their friend getting down to music, he let out an audible gasp. "Are you all right?" asked Metin. "Uhm...yes..." said Ethan haltingly. He was looking Metin eye to eye right now, and he knew he should be looking up just slightly, Metin being three inches taller than him. "What's wrong?" queried Bran as he danced up to Metin, who pulled him close to gyrate together. Ethan took a step back. Bran came up exactly where he normally did on Metin - right under his chin. Which means both men are standing straight, and Bran is hitting him the same place as he does Metin. "Are you sure you're all right, Ethan?" "Yes... uh..." and suddenly Metin seemed to get lower. Ethan let out another small gasp, and then caught himself and feigned a swoon. "I think... I think I didn't keep myself hydrated enough on my trip inland today and it's catching up to me a bit." "Luca, why don't you take Ethan to the refreshment table and get some proper fluids in him." said Ándras. Luca embraced Ethan in hug like hold and dance-walked him through the crowd to the back edge of the deck. The whole trip though Ethan couldn't keep his breath he was gasping so much. Men his height, he was becoming a bit taller than. Smaller men like Bran he was starting to tower over. The whole walk back men were shrinking all around him. What was going on? Escorting him to the one of the punch bowl sides of the catered table, Luca grabbed a cup, filled it up and handed it off to Ethan. "Here, drink this." "Thank yo--WUAH!" Ethan stepped backwards in fear nearly tripping himself onto the table. Luca caught him by the wrist and put him upright again. Ethan stood straight and tall, looking at Luca...looking slightly down at Luca. It might be only by an inch, but he was.... looking....DOWN....AT LUCA! "I will go get Ándras." "No... no no.... it's okay. I'll be alright. The heat from the day and the strobbing lights are just affecting my vision and balance right now. Just give me a few minutes and a couple of glasses of punch, a couple of hors d'oeuvres to snack on and I'll... I'll be fine. You go back into the crowd. Have fun. I'll join you guys again in a minute." Shortly after Luca disappeared into the crowd, Ethan felt a presence behind him and then heard the words, "Ben je een Nederlander?" Again turning around Ethan looked to see a pair of men...very tall men....one was blond haired blue eyed, average build of a body, kind of a boyish looking face, while the other slightly taller man was brown haired, brown eyed, and a pretty good muscular build on him for one who is so tall. The first man Ethan came just to the top of his ears, while the second man he came up to the bottom of his ears. Ethan was turned on by these very large men, and became very nervous, but he started to tell them the truth that he didn't understand them or what they had said, but instead words that he had no idea how to speak came rushing past his lips. "Ja, zo te zien zijn jullie het ook." "Tcha! We zijn allebei Amsterdammers. En waar komt jij vandaan?" "Mooi zeg. Ik, Delft." "Geweldig. We wilden jullie allebei zeggen dat je extreem knap bent ... .... en je bent een supergrote twink. Iets waar we al heel lang mee bezig willen zijn. We zijn te groot voor de meeste mannen." Ethan couldn't believe what was happening. He was having a conversation with two men in a language he didn't know, nor understand. Yet, somehow, they were able to understand him and he them, and he knew they were hitting on him. But why did he tell them he came from the Netherlands? Why did he state he was from the city of Delft? How did he even know of the city of Delft? After some more conversation, flirty comments on appearances to each other, they were asking him to dance; they were asking him to dance close. They pulled him back into the crowd and after much dancing in the heart of the crowd, they moved towards the pool edge, dropped their three-quarter length Capri pants to reveal some short shorts underneath and persuaded Ethan to jump into the pool with them. Soon they were swimming and rolling and kissing and making out in the deep end of the pool. ************************************************************************* Another late morning wake up for Ethan. He lie there on the bed, feeling the warmer air begin to fill his cabin and caress his body. He was asleep with the sheets slightly askew on him, mostly just draped across his middle section. Normally, no matter how warm or cold, he would have full shoulder to feet coverage with his blankets and sheets, if not including his head as well. As he lie there, he looked with his mind and ears and realized he was in his own stateroom. Recalling the evening after the pool he went back to Stijn, the shorter of the two at 6' 10", and Jayden's stateroom for an evening of fun, that in performing, Ethan swore three men their size would destroy the bed. The bed did become a problem for them as to save money on the trip the two Dutch giants had booked a single. All the twisting and turning, groping and fondling, sucking and pounding were fine, but once the three of them, exhausted, attempted to all lie down comfortably on the bed and sleep, it just couldn't be done. Sleepily Ethan excused himself, hugged and kissed Stijn and Jayden good-bye and walked back to his cabin with only the flag of the Netherlands to cover him, his shorts lost somewhere in the Dutch men's room. But something else was troubling him as he perceived his room with his mind. Thinking of troubling beds, his stateroom bed felt smaller. It felt both less wide and shorter to him. Yes, the more he lie there and felt it, the more he realized it. His feet were just hanging off the mattress. They shouldn't be doing that. Remembering though had happened last night, Ethan leaped out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror. Letting out a yelp he backed into the bed seeing that his head was partially cropped off in the reflection. He'd...he'd have to be fairly tall for that to happen. Without thinking he went in to take a quick shower, giving a small scream again when he realized he could just look over the stall door and that the shower head was a good couple of inches lower than his head, the spray thus hitting him in the chest. He then stumbled out and began to put on clothes. First his underwear, then some board shorts, then a nice polo, and then his boat shoes. That's when it hit him - his clothes fit. Moreover he didn't have any clothes like this. He stood up and sat down to check his point of view in the room and to look at himself in his clothing. Up and down, up and down, over and over again. He was tall, but his clothes fit. But they can't fit because he was originally shorter side of average. His mind was racing. He wasn't tall, but then where did all these clothes come from? Nervously, shaken, he sat back down upon his bed, staring down at his feet and shoes. They looked huge. Gigantic from what his mind remembered. As they were looking relatively new, Ethan slowly pulled one foot up while leaning down and pulled off one of the shoes to look inside. "Sixteen." Ethan's heart raced. He knew he only worse a size nine shoe. Something was wrong. He had to find out what was happening to him. He decided to rush out of his stateroom. He wasn't sure where he'd go, but some fresh sea air, topside, might help him calm down, clear his head, and think. However, when he opened the door, there was Ándras waiting for him, and as he stared into Ándras' eyes, again he felt the breeze of the sea and could hear the pounding of the waves, as well as see them. "Good morning, Ethan." "Ehm....Morning, Ándras." "I was coming by to see if you'd care to join Luca, Bran, Metin, myself, and two men we met last night at the party... a Mr. Walker and his friend, Arthur. He's wanting to take some private photos of Metin, as well as heading with us on our day trip out into Santorini, Greece. He's apparently one of the cruise's official photographer and videographers. I also came by to drop off this for tonight's party, which is farmers or cowboys." "uhm..... sure....sure.... I was heading out to get breakfast anyway..." From that point on the next three days ran together in one really big blur. He met everyone for brunch and then spent the day with them in Santorini exploring ruins and seeing sites. Arthur, Luca, and Metin seemed to be treating him more like an equal now, while Bran and Jason both stared up at him in awe and lust and giggled around him like they did Arthur, Luca, and Metin. Ethan felt fine, but something inside him was still amazed by the fact that Luca and Arthur seemed slightly shorter than him and Metin only came up to his nose. They enjoyed dinner together in one of the more relaxed restaurants. Ethan kept experiencing a thrill and kind of a turn on, as not remembering his new 6 '5" frame he kept accidentally kicking Arthur or Luca's legs. To which, they started a game of footsie, seeing whose legs and feet could reach the longest and farthest up to one another's crotch. Luckily no one else noticed as Hazel Tov and Cacao Caliente de Malaviscos were on stage giving a very hilarious and scandalous comedy routing, throwing shade on everyone. It was at this point that everything begins to blur. It was a two day trip until the next port of call, so there was nothing else to do but have your fun on the ship, and fun became Ethan's middle name whether he wanted it to be or not. That first night party, farmers and cowboys, Ándras had given him a straw cowboy hat; sleeveless, button down, plaid shirt; blue jeans with tons of holes in them - especially around the ass; and a pair of cowboy boots. Again approaching the main party deck he encountered a mist and it put him in a slight dreamy like state. He began to take longer strides in more pronounced steps. He held his head high, his shoulders back and his chest out. His shirt began to pull tighter and tighter around his torso. The crescent beginnings of some decent pectorals started to form. His deltoids started to over flow the arm hole of the shirt, while a lil bit of lat muscle poked up and out from that same hole too. His shoulders started to make an angle up to his neck, which although not huge, began to widen and thicken under his head. His upper arms began to take on a firmness and then just a hint of shape when relaxed, showing just a bit of power and some size. Likewise his forearms had begun to become thick with muscle shapes as well. His jeans began to pull a bit tight against his ass which was bubbling out and firming up, same thing with the back of his thighs most definitely, but the jeans still hung fairly loose around the calves. He had sort of a soccer player look. A young man just in the beginning of athletic study and performance. He looked like a young man who had spent his youth working on a farm and being part of a high school football team. Except he was an impressive 6' 5" tall. Before the din of the DJ and music could cover it up, Ethan heard the clomps of a big man walking down the deck, with a very firm heal toe movement. Thud-pat...thud-apt....thud-pat.... But every time he stopped to look around, the man would also stop walking. Once out on the dance floor he was quickly approached by two men from China: Yixin Shen & Wei Bao. Both of them with jet black hair, beautiful almond eyes, great smiles, but the first man was all of five feet tall with a very slim but muscular appearance that was also very smooth. The other man however was 6' 3" very light, but full and feathery hairy chest, a bit darker skin tone, and quite a bit beefier like a new bodybuilder on his first or maybe second off season gaining body. They complemented him over and over again on how handsome he was. Yixin stated how much he loved very tall men, while Wei said he love those who were muscled like him or much, much bigger. Ethan wasn't quite that size, but his face more than made up for it. Ethan might have decided to go find his friends or just leave all together. The partying was becoming quite a bit much. However Yixin and Wei knew their way around the body and while dancing were groping him, massaging him, as well as caressing and kissing him, that it worked Ethan into a lust frenzy, and a desire to be worshipped. He wound up heading back to their cabin and for the next two days he still wasn't sure if he ever left it. But he had to have left it. He attended the next night's party - Dog Tag aka Military, dressed in an outfit like a United States Marine. He felt the costumed uniform become tight on him, snug. He felt a couple of seams rip or a button fly off. While on the bed with Yixin and Wei he could see larger size, better definition, the veins beginning to rise and plump up and cross over the mounds of his muscles, and striations forming and cross-crossing his body this way and that. The pair of Chinese men kept on performing massages, acupressure, acupuncture, giving him herbal teas and food. He felt so wonderful, so relaxed with them. The following night's party he attended with them as well. His costuming having been dropped off once more, presumably by Ándras. This time it was a totally new experience for him as it was Drag Night, but he didn't have to wear heels like many of the guys did. No, his outfit had special boots. Boots because it was an outfit to mimic the female wrestler Chyna. While out on the dance floor that evening, Ethan wondered about the possible shoddiness of the costume's construction. It started to feel very tight on him. He started to hear rips and pops, he saw lacings snap apart! By the time it had come to head back to Yixin & Wei's cabin, Ethan was needing to adjust his walk, kicking his legs out a little sideways. He was having to twist and turn to start getting through doorways. In bed he began to look down his body or stare at it in the mirror and marvel. First he looked like a new decent athlete. Then he looked like a personal trainer who was somewhat lighter in musculature, but now... Now he looked like a pro-wrestler. Now he looked like the Rock. Maybe a little bigger. It was like one massive odd game of Twister in the China men's bed. They were groping and fondling him more and more now, tracing the crevices around his muscles, especially his abdominals and obliques. They cupped the increasingly swelling mounds of his muscle bellies and gave them squeezes to try and deflate them using just their bare hands. They put him through various exercises to watch the muscles extend, contract, and pump up with blood. Problem was, Ethan had become fascinated with his own body; rubbing his hand across his chest, pinching a nipple, feeling the cobblestone path that was his abdomen, tracing the tear drop shapes on his thighs, groping his own biceps. The men had him start doing bodybuilding poses and learning to bounce his pecs, together and individually. Although one part of his mind screamed it was impossible, the other part felt there was nothing wrong with it and he enjoyed himself and his new look of a very athletic man. Whenever they tried to grab him, he was in the way grabbing himself. For three days his muscle grew in size, strength, and density. He blew up like a balloon. He felt harder, denser, thicker, wider.... he felt strong. ****************************************************************************** The next morning the ship was docked near Giardini Naxos, Italy. Yixin and Wei woke up early and left to go see the sites, leaving a note telling Ethan they'd see him later. Searching around their cabin, he finally found some of his clothes under the Chyna drag outfit. He went in and took a shower to remove the make-up from his face for the party held last night and then changed into his clothes. He still marveled at the size of his feet and the shoe he had to put on them, but laughed it off thinking, "Big guy, big feet...obviously big shoe." He then got lost for a bit, checking himself out in the mirror, after he had slipped his shorts on. A couple of side arm and chest poses with some pec bounces later, he decided, "to hell with it", and just draped his shirt over his neck like a towel. He walked out of the stateroom with a proud stride down the corridor, greeting all the guys who whistled, winked, smiled, and blushingly turned their heads away from him with a broad smile and a single wave hello. He took a slight detour and headed outside instead of continuing down into his stateroom. Leaning over the balcony and listening to the ship and the ocean, the sea birds flying over his head, he closed his eyes and felt the sun on his broad back and slightly barreling chest. He felt good. He felt invigorated. He couldn't wait to see what the next seven nights brought. His silent moment was broken by the sound of a wheel chair and a friendly voice. "There you are Mr. Olson. I was wondering if I would see you again. You seem to be out and about enjoying the sun, and shirtless too, I might add." "Yeah..." Ethan said looking down at his body. "For some reason I just felt I didn't need to put the shirt on. Hell... I think I might go buy a new swim suit, one of those thongs ones, so I can tan all over." "Well, you might not want to get too much sun; you're already quite a few men's fantasy on this ship." Ethan blushed and smiled. "Nah... I'm just an average joe.... but I am kind of tall and this weather and sunshine is doing something to my body. I feel so....strong.... and my mind feels so clear." "Good. Glad the trip is working out for you? Ready to do some more ship to shore exploring? Oh and do you need help with the party tonight? It's super heroes." Ethan's smile beamed ever brighter. "Do I! I'd love to go to that party. I'd love to see what I look like in a super hero outfit." The pair went off to go join another set of friends Ándras had made and together they all enjoyed the sites of Giardini Naxos, Italy. Later they met up with Ándras' regular circle of friends for dinner with the exception of Luca. Luca needed to join the three drag queen hostesses: Hazel Tov, Cadence Alcoda, and Cacao Caliente de Malaviscos as the four of them and various cruise guests performed various acts for "Talent Night." Later that evening, Ethan slipped into the outfit that Ándras had given him, recalling what he said about this large unitard kind of outfit. "This was for my friend who couldn't make it. It's a hero primarily only known to those fans of Detective Comics, D.C. for short. His name is Nuklon, and he's like the hulk, you need a tall or tall and big man to pull him off. He was basically exposed to radiation in his mother's womb, and as such grew to be a very tall man with various shape shifting and phasing powers. Quite strong too." After getting dressed and slipping a red haired wig on, he ran to the party deck, where he was instantly greeted by a number of guys who thought his costume looked awesome, as well as several friends made on the cruise. The young man who originally had folks adjusting their position to cut him out of their group, was now one of the men they pulled in the center to become the nucleus of a group. As he was dancing, Ethan began to roll his shoulders. He'd point his foot and flex it. He reached up to the sky and stretch. It felt so good, stretching and reaching up higher and higher if he could, and then he returned to dancing. But his vision began to give it away. It was like he was on a small elevator and slowly but surely his point of view was getting higher and higher. He saw Bran, Jason, and Yixin shrink lower and lower until they nearly looked like children to him. He watched as not only Metin, Luca, Arthur and Wei shrunk away, but Stijn and Jayden did as well. Higher and higher he rose, watching all of the short guys become extremely small to him. The average became short, the somewhat tall average, and the really tall just tall. Ethan's heart began racing, but he wasn't sure what for. He was slightly worried about this, but at the same time felt great and wanted more. Watching all the men becoming smaller than him was becoming a huge turn on and he was afraid he might pop an erection in this very non hiding super hero outfit. Eventually he thought to himself, "Who cares. I'm large, in charge, they all like me, what are they going to do?" By the time he was done growing, Jayden only came up to his eyes, Stijn only came up to his mouth, Luca, Arthur, and Wei hovered just an inch or two above his shoulders while Metin just an inch under them, as Bran and Jason came up to mid bicep or the arm pit, and poor, little Yixin came no farther than where Ethan's lats taper into his obliques. Now at his new towering height, even more men clamored to be and dance around him, to speak to him, to touch him. It could have been another sexual frenzy night but Ethan felt so good he practically closed the party, and all the men who wanted pictures with the true, actual, life-sized super hero from the comic books... Ethan spent nearly two hours of the party, straight through, getting his picture taken with men who were posting all over every social media: "OMG! LOOK AT THIS GIANT HOTTIE!" "HOLY SHIT BATMAN! It's a real, live, giant Nuklon here!" "Make me a criminal; I want this hero to take me down (and go down on me as well.)" "I don't know what his super power is, but I bet he has a personal battering ram...." He was still getting pictures taken and signing faux autographs by the time he made it to his cabin, after experiencing several knocks to the noggin from hanging signs, plants, and doorways. Doorways, not only did they hurt his head, he had to learn to twist, turn, and duck to get through them as being too narrow they kept slamming his shoulders and delts, not to mention his arms couldn't go through. A couple of guys kept offering to watch him over night and hold ice bags on his head, but he thanked them and ushered them out the door. ************************************************************************ In the morning, once again, Ethan was lying face down upon the bed. His covers once more only covering his middle section and much less of him than before. His mind and sense of touch once more tried to feel the room before he opened his eyes. If thought his bed was too small before, he knew it to be now. Straightening himself upon the bed and placing his head right against the head board, he felt as though his shoulders were almost as wide as the bed and he could feel his legs sticking out beyond the bed from about mid-calve down to his feet. After that realization, he had another. He was not alone. He was hearing something like the fold of fabric and the placement of something into something else. The clicking of latches. Someone is messing with his luggage? Quickly flipping over on the bed, he looked up to see a ship's porter and bellowed out, "What are you doing in my room?" The porter, a youthful, but very manly looking black man, with a name tag that said, "Kwame", who stood around 6' 5" with a stocky but solid build and bald head, shook and spasmed like he was suddenly having an orgasm. His deep rich eyes suddenly opened wide in horror, and then looked up at Ethan and he stammered. "I...I.... I.... I'm ... I'm sorry, sir. We realized we made a mistake and we are correcting the problem?" "Mistake? What mistake?" "Obviously the incorrect placement of you into these accommodations." "I was incorrectly placed into these accommodations?" "Obviously, sir. You're taller than the bed and mattress is long. Which also means you take up like nearly a fourth of the room by yourself. You don't fit in this stateroom's shower, sir. These trips often get overbook and in attempt in planning and working things out, we obviously gave the suite you booked to someone else and stuck you down here. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience and are therefore moving you into the only suite we have left available - The Poseidon Suite on Deck 16, sir. We did try to wake you, and when we couldn't do that, decided to pre-pack your things and move them to the suite. You will have the ability to go through all your belongings and if anything is missing we will find any party who stole anything and of course pay for replacement, if that were to happen." Ethan thought for a moment and didn't understand where this was coming from, but the porter was correct, he was too big for this small stateroom. "All right, just tell me where I need to go." The porter staring all wide-eyed at Ethan, stammered some more while trying to hide a growing erection and wet spot. "Sir... do you not think you should put some clothes on?" Looking down at himself, Ethan smiled at his nudity. Part of him thought, why? Why the hell not? Just walk out there in the buff, and walk proudly to his new suite in the nude. To save the porter more embarrassment though, he thought to put some clothes on. "Of course... did you leave me any clothes to put on?" "Yes, sir. We left out one outfit for you, along with the package of new clothes with shoes you ordered." Ethan looked down at the package slightly confused. "I didn't order any clothes." "They must be yours, Sir." "Why?" "Who else would wear Triple eXtra Large and Quadruple Tall shirt, not to mention the size 24 shoes, sir. Who else could possible wear those but you?" And with that the Porter had finished packing Ethan's cases and proceeded to cart them away to the Poseidon Suite. After the porter's departure, Ethan then decided to get a shower and head on out and up to his new suite rooms on the sixteenth deck in order to be able find them and of course check them out. The porter proved exceptionally correct on being too big for this stateroom's shower. Although set slightly higher than most showers, the shower head still only came up to the top of of Ethan's chest and just below his shoulders. Speaking of his shoulders they were slightly too broad for the space of the shower and thus he couldn't close the door all the way. The shower wall itself only came up to the top of Ethan's shoulders as well, and the square room of the space was nearly too small for Ethan to bend or twist in order to wash his chest, shoulders, head, and hair. Once out of the bathroom and dried off, he spent a few more minutes than necessary putting clothes on; he went through and tried each shirt on to see how it fit on him. He also took time marveling at his shoes and his feet. Measuring them via the bathroom floor tile he reckoned them to be just a titch beyond fifteen inches long. One last check in the mirror, he placed the clothes left for him to choose from in a bag, decided he should go shirtless again, and head on up to deck sixteen. Along the way he began to enjoy new perks of his height and build: men were running into things while staring at him go by, or men were coming up and saying hello in stammering or hushed voices, or more brazen men were whistling at him or even coming up and giving his butt a squeeze or pinch. Then there were the cons: ceiling lights, ceiling hung signs or plant pots, short elevators and doorways, were all things Ethan had to learn to duck, or face horrible pain. Despite those aggravations, both pros and con were making Ethan feel confident, proud, and... turned on. Reaching his suite there was a porter standing waiting for him at the door who greeted him, silently with eyes wide in wonder, and handed him his pass key to get into the suite. Walking in Ethan was at once astounded by the size of the suite, and yet joyfully rejoiced in his mind, "YES! Something in my size!" Coming in from the suite door the room panned out starting on the left hand side: a book & media library or office with a pull down twin bed; then a half bathroom or toilet; behind those two rooms was one bedroom with two bunk beds and a full bathroom; then there was the dining room; then the living room at the 12 O'clock position from the entrance door; followed by the master bedroom on the far right with what they called an Emperor size bed and a walk-in closet, along with a master bath with whirlpool tub and a hot tub; and another bedroom with a king size bed and full bathroom. On the other side of the dining area, living room, and master bedroom was the suite's verandah or balcony with eight deck chairs and four small tables. Ethan laughed and chuckled as he walked into the master suite and then took a running jump onto the "Emperor bed." WHUMP! Ethan moved his hands and legs out as if making a snow angel, feeling the great width and length of the bed which made him look and feel like an average man. Not too long after he re-unpacked everything, Ándras called bringing in some exceptionally large shoes. They were a bit bigger than his own shoes... quite a bit bigger. Ethan joked with Ándras asking if his shoes weren't big enough to which Ándras replied, they were monstrous compared to most men, but tonight's theme is Big Shoes, and being as tall as he was, he needed something even larger to look like he was participating instead of just wearing his normal shoes. Ethan just smiled, shaking his head, wondering where on earth Ándras found shoes so large - size 35 to be exact, to which Ándras informed him they were a giant promotional pair made to help show and sell the shoes in a display window. Ethan put the shoes away until later. He then went out with his gang of friends and explored the port of the day, Naples, Italy. Ethan's confidence in himself and his looks grew more and more as the day wore on. Traversing through Naples' Medieval and older section of the city meant he had to twist and turn to get through doorways, bending at the waist as opposed to just the head. People stared at him and whispered about him behind his back. Folks came up asking for autographs and inquiring if he was a famous NBA star. Children were asking him to flex for them or pick them up or give them a piggy back ride. Shop keepers were willing to give him a bit of a discount, provided he allowed them to take a picture of him, or him with them. He arrived back at the ship laden with many souvenirs, packages, and gifts, not to mention his friends fighting to see who would walk next to or directly behind him, especially when he bent over to help push Ándras in his wheel chair; his ass and thighs tightening as he did so. It was same at dinner as folks Ethan didn't know yet were passing by his and his friend's table and smacking him on the back and saying hello, waiting for a handshake so as to compare Ethan's hands to theirs. Even his friends appeared to have silent stand offs on who would sit next to him. Later, not sure what to wear, he decided since he was getting so many complements on his body to just wear a pair of under armor knee length shorts and the giant ass shoes that Ándras picked out for him. Together with his friends, along with many other members of the cruise, everyone was flapping their way down to the party deck with over sized shoes, sounding more like a bunch of divers who didn't take off their flippers, walking around. Once again, Ethan became the center of a group of men dancing together, being pulled in my his usual group of friends along with some new faces. At one point Ethan met one of these new men; an average build and height man with bald head, two day scruff of a beard, extremely hairy, and of all things, violet eyes. He introduced himself as Ony Vasiliev from Russia and began talking to Ethan with a thick accent. "I know you know, but vow you are zo tall." Ethan smiled and nodded. "I tink tall men are ze most sexy men in da whole vorld. da?" Ethan smiled and nodded again. "And muscular men are sexy as well, da?" Ethan smiled and nodded still. "And one who is bot tall and muscular is double sexy, da?" Ethan smiled and winked at Ony. "Are you ze holy trinity zexy?" "Holy trinity sexy?" "Da.... are zose your actual shoes?" "No, they are exceptionally large shoes for tonight's party." "But you art danzing so vell in them... do you have big feet naturally?" "Size US 24." "US Twenty-four?!?....Is it true vat dey say?" Ethan began to feel a warmth in his groin. It made him feel aroused and heady at the same time. "No, what do they say?" "That a man's member can be judged by his feet?" Ethan felt the sensation again and swore something was stroking his cock. "That it lets anotter man know how big his cock is...." Ethan felt the under armor shorts pull a little tighter on his groin. "His shoe size mi-nus two..." Ethan felt his cock ooze out at little more from his groin and stretch down his interior left leg. "Or just his shoe size..." Again the stretching occurred. Ethan began to feel the shorts pull away a little bit from his thigh. "Or da size of his hand." Ethan felt the shorts pull away from his groin area. Both his balls and his cock were growing. "Or da bridge of his nose?" Ethan moaned very audible, although the crowd couldn't hear because of the DJ's music playing so loudly. His under armor shorts were being pulled away somewhat, yet they felt as though they were getting tighter somehow. Ony looked down and could see a very full and heavy outline of testicles in Ethan's shorts, and coming out of those was a very long and hose like form running down Ethan's inner left leg. "My Got! You are zo hung." And reaching forward and grabbing Ethan by his inner left thigh and squeezing, he squealed. "It's sqooshy! It's still soft!" And as if right on cue, Ethan felt a flood gate of warmth was over his prick as a rush of blood began to fill it up, causing it to extend slightly longer and thicker than before. "You are porn star! You must work for BelAmi! You make Kris Evans look like a midget!" and Ony began rubbing Ethan's growing cock via his silky, under armor shorts. Ethan moaned feeling his cock extend slightly further, plump slightly thicker as he was aroused more and more. Eventually he picked Ony up, cradling the 5' 9" tall man in his arms as easily as he could a child. "You're turning me on...." By this point Ethan's balls were quite large and bulbous, while his cock was extending a good way down his thigh and straining to pull over and out in its central position. The crowd was cheering, "Take him! Take him! Take him!". It wasn't known if it was for Ethan or Ony, but with that Ethan carried Ony all the way back to his suite, where he shut and locked the door, threw Ony down on the master bedroom's "emperor bed", ripped his shorts off, yanked Ony's shorts off and then.... well it is said that the decks above and below could hear a Russian man screaming... "Takoy bol'shoy!........ FUCK! ........AUGH! .......PAPA!........ FUNT MENYA!" ****************************************************************************** The next morning, Ethan woke up with lil Ony sleeping on his torso, his little legs wrapped around Ethan's decent sized thighs and calves, his head using Ethan's chest as a pillow, while his hand, in his sleep, absent mindedly ran through the hair on Ethan's chest. Quickly, smoothly, and easily, Ethan moved Ony from him to the bed, and then in an instant went down on Ony's morning wood. His large tongue moved and swirled while his lips sucked and in just a minute Ony was awake and screaming a primal, guttural, passionate moan busted both his nuts in one major toe curling orgasm, and then passed out on the bed. Ethan smiled and then walked out on his balcony, forgetting where his new location was. Higher up on the ship, he was also more inward, which meant a couple of decks below him could look up and see him standing out on this balcony. Indeed some folks did and when Ethan heard the cat calls, he put his hands behind his head and made his semi-erect cock do the helicopter move to the cheers and applause of those below. His crowd of friends dropped by his suite to have breakfast now, and of course Ándras was there to drop his costume off for that evening's party. It wasn't much. It was a thong with a numbered circle pinned to it. The evening's party theme was "sports" and his friends had decided with his build and equipment he should go as a bodybuilder. But before that was the day excursion into Rome, and boy did they give Ethan a workout. They had him help pull them up stairs or lift them down from higher plazas to lower, he pushed Ándras, he carried packages, he chased down an unfortunate pick pocket thief. By the time they returned to the ship, Ethan almost felt too sore to go dinner or the party, but still he did go. Most of the crowd of men whooped and hollered for him as he made his way to the party deck and out into the center. His poser thong fit him, but was slightly pulled down by the length of his cock and by the weight of both it and his balls. It exposed just slightly the base of his prick and the pube bush growing around it. It didn't take long before many a man came up and started having pose offs with him running through all the moves: front double bicep, lat spread, side chest, back double bicep, back and shoulders, back thigh and calves, side triceps, abs and thighs, and back to front double bicep. However, by the second time through, Ethan began to feel a warmth spread across his body. Every time he struck a pose he could feel his muscles inflate. He could feel them become denser, harder, thicker, stronger. Striations were coming through with every line of muscle fiber becoming more and more pronounced. The same could be said for the definition and the crevices in between his muscles. As his muscle bellies became larger and swelled more, becoming engorged with a larger and larger pump, the crevices and separations became deeper, more defined. Then there was the veins that popped up and began to run across his body like rivers drawn across a map. So plump, so full, feeding his muscles more and more blood. Ethan paused in between and made several trips to the snack buffet, stuffing himself with meats and vegetables, drinking milk, and then had the staff make him protein shakes. And his soreness from the day was disappearing. It felt like for every muscle growth spurt his soreness went away. By the end of the evening he had gone from personal trainer and wrestling star build through amateur bodybuilder to a Mr. Olympia contender. His dancing turned into more and more of side step shifting of weight. Walking was turned in side kicked waddling. His arms were lifting more up and out by the minute so that it was hard for him clasp his hands together in front of his self. And the growth continued. The next night's theme was "The Gods" party. Ándras help Ethan get dressed, smiling knowingly for some reason as he draped a lion shaped cape over Ethan's shoulders and once the bottom of the toga skirt was on Ethan, he cinched it up with a golden belt that sent a feeling of power running through him. Ethan strode out onto that party deck in those clothes with some massive Roman leather style boots with a feeling of power. Power! Power that continued to grow just like he did. If he was an mere Mr. Olympia contender before, he was growing into a full blown, real Olympian demi-god now. Men were actually throwing themselves at him. If he didn't see or acknowledge them, they still fought to just touch his feet. They clung to his thighs and calves, they squeezed his upper arms trying to deflate his biceps, crush the growing horseshoe of his triceps. They beat on his abdomen and his chest trying to make him scream in pain, or double over for breath, but they just kept hurting their hands and his abs became more defined, more like solid bricks, while his chest just barreled out more and more while it got broader and thicker. Not to mention his growing nipples which some men took blows to the head because they were trying to suck on them between men pounding on Ethan's pecs. And still some men just hung around his neck trying to see if he'd choke! His neck became as wide and thick as his head. A pure column of marble. His back, shoulders, and delts seemed to collectively become as wide as his body was tall. His arms ballooned his lats flared out like wings so that his arms never hung down at his sides even while relaxed. There were so many lines and divisions, crevices and separation in his obliques and abdominals it was like he was wearing a highly intricate piece of plated armor. His thighs grew so big and thick he waddled around in a full side kick walk, rolling his thighs around one another. Their large tear drop shapes pushing the straps of the leather skirt apart here and there and flaring them out on the sides when he stood still much like the bulge of his balls and cock did. His calves grew and grew looking as big, thick, and round as his upper arms until there were several snaps heard and those worshiping his feel and legs were struck with bursting leather straps like cat-o-nine tails across the face. His Roman boots were quickly being destroyed. When they passed out awards for the best God costume, his name was called and he stood upon the dais with his hands clinched in fists, arms high in the air above his head in the now classic "victory pose" of bodybuilding. Eventually leading to a crab shot pose and a scream from Ethan as the crowd chanted out "ETHAN! ETHAN! ETHAN! ETHAN! ETHAN!" They applauded and cheered as he made his way off the dais and walked back to the dance floor. Some men were crying in hysteria over his handsomeness, his size, his alpha-ness. Others cried wishing to be with him, like him. Many had taken to jacking off right there on the dance floor, in the pool. They all wanted to reach out and touch him. Having reached the edge of the dance floor, Ethan stopped, turned with a large smirk on his face, and grabbing the belt, the toga skirt, and his thong in one hand, he ripped them off and threw them to the floor. The crowd went ballistic, screaming and hollering their approval. Ethan did one more crab shot with a wink to the crowd and then after doing a fake take off to temp the crowd, ran all the way back to his suite. Some of the men went after him. Arthur, Bran, Jason, Jayden, Luca, Metin, Ony, Stijn, Wei, and Yixin all made a run for it too, but with most of them knowing where Ethan's suite was located, arrived there first. Ándras slowly wheeled up to the golden belt on the floor picked it up as a knowing smirk spread across his face. He put it in his wheelchair's holding pouch and then proceeded to roll his chair backwards until it hit the pool edge and it dumped him in. The crowd went silent, but when he came up, easily treading water with his arms and making his way to the steps, they all cheered and shouted and some jumped in next to him to have some fun. **************************************************************************** The next morning Arthur, Bran, Jason, Jayden, Luca, Metin, Ony, Stijn, Wei, and Yixin were all in Ethan's suite passed out either in his bed, or on the floor near his bed. This scene was discovered by Ándras as he wheeled in followed by a number of porters bringing in trays of food. "A very late good morning, gentlemen. It is time to get up. Only three more full days of the cruise. Can't spend them in bed. I have brunch. In case you need to energize from all the sex." "What sex?" called out Bran from underneath Ethan's arm. "All we did was grope and fondle and caress Ethan's massive muscles and then took turns stroking his cock. It took forever for him to reach orgasm. I think the sun just came up as we managed to do it." "But oh what a load he blew. It took a bed sheet to clean up. Not towels, a full bed sheet. The laundry folks are going to freak." Said a very fit runner, around 6' 1" with ebony hair and eyes, bronzed, smooth skin, and a very carved body with some outstanding tribal tattoos. "Who are you?" asked Ándras "Oh, hello. I'm Enele Tasi.... Runner.... from Samoa.... scheduled for the next Olympics. Why I was able to catch up to Ethan. I like big muscle dudes. They're thick like us Samoan men... except me." Enele said kind of disappointed like. Slowly, everyone got up, had something to eat, and then all went back to their rooms to get changed and meet up again in Ethan's suite to plan the excursion in Ajaccio Corsica, France. Ethan had fun again, but the stardom of his size among both the people he met in France and the passengers on the ship were beginning to wear him down. He gave public dinner a pass that evening, instead having it out on his balcony with the breeze blowing through his thick hair, both on his head, and the light but thickening chest, ab, arm, and leg hair that appeared the night before. The sun beating upon his flesh, continuing to deepen a tan he had started developing the more he began to wear less and less. He breathed deep and easy. His massive chest expanding to almost double its size each time he inhaled. He ate his massive five plates of dinner relatively slowly, enjoying each bite, each taste. It was shortly after he finished there was a knock on the door. "Come in." bellowed Ethan, but politely. Through the door came Ándras who inquired if Ethan was going to go to the party tonight. Ethan paused for a moment, thinking at first no, but then decided again, he was out to learn not to be boring. He was here to experience everything there was to one of these cruises, and with a smile and renewed energy turned to Ándras and asked him what to wear. Ándras produced a small white garment, something thong or poser like but with a special shape. Ethan looked down at it as he held it in his hands and smiled. The All White Party was going in full swing when Ethan arrived. There were men in white tuxedo vests and speedos, some dressed as ghosts, some in white track suits, some just wearing white bands or had white paint on their bodies. Ethan was the only one however in a thong, but not just any kind of thong. It was a thong with a white elephant head on the front and Ethan's schlong filled up part of the trunk. Pulled into the center and surrounded again, Ethan waddle danced with his Herculean muscles with his friends and several admirers as there was dancing, and drinking, caressing and fondling, arm wrestling, hoisting of men big and small into the air as though they were a barbell, two handed and then one handed. There were fast dances where men watch Ethan's cock move like a pendulum, to slow dances where men short and tall felt small and engulfed by the massive form that was Ethan, clinging to him like he was a rock face - a mountain. Then there came the stroking. It started with a couple of men sneaking it in during a dance. Then several made a game of it to see who could get close enough to quickly sneak a stroke before Ethan could get them. Then Ethan's friends began to hover around him and stroke him looking at the game players as if to say, "this man is mine." Over and over again it happened and then it began to happen. stroke. Ethan feels the warmth in his crotch again. Stroke. Ethan's cock moves a little further down the cloth tube that is the trunk. Stroooke. Ethan's prick is getting longer and thicker. It's becoming fully engorged. STROKE! The super schlong becomes even longer and thicker as it begins to become fully erect. STROOOOOOKE! It is doing its best to rise into a pointing up position but it's becoming so long and so thick, so large the best it can do is stick straight out from Ethan's groin. STROOOOOOOOOOOOKE! The colossal cock is filling the entire length of the elephant's trunk. This is a gag gift. No man's penis is supposed to do this. STROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKE! With a rip followed by a long tear Ethan's member bursts through the gag gift posers. The trunk lying limp in strips and ribbons from Ethan's crotch, while his mammoth member throbs as hard as iron in front of him. The crowd of men had become silent as each man stepped forward giving his sheathed schlong a stroke, waiting breathlessly to see when it would burst through. Upon doing so there was an eruption of cheers. Hazel Tov walked around the DJ and his booth screamed "Oy gevalt! He's become a pole vaulter. Jonah Falcon increased to 7' 6" with his proportions intact has still been beaten." Cadence Alcoda hit several high soprano notes that sounded more like screams of orgasms and then held her dress near her crotch and quickly walked off stage. Meanwhile the usually very hot and sassy Cacao Caliente de Malaviscos simply stared at Ethan in wide-eyed awe or horror and passed out, falling into the pool. At this point one man reached out and ripped the elephant head thong off of Ethan's body and several men surrounded him, groping his arms, pulling on his back, forcing him into a waddled walk into the center island of the ships main pool. Once there, several men splashed him and then each and every single man came up and gave his protruding prick as long, slow or quick pull as they could. After half the men had a turn, it became a two-man competition: while one man stroked the tube, the other stroked the helmet. Over and over again it occurred and the longer it went the more Ethan moaned and groaned. His body eventually began to shudder. His toes began to curl. He began to bite his lip. He started to clinch his fists and flex his arms in order to not involuntarily strike someone down with a massive blow. "Mama Hazel... I think he's going to blow like a fountain, look at his balls!" "Forget his balls, Cadence. Look at the fountain head!" And at that moment a three man team had finally done it. Two of the men wrapped all four hands around his pole and firmly, but oh so slowly, drew one long drag down his wonder worm. Meanwhile man three had been using his right hand to need Ethan's cock head like a bread dough and his left to reach down and stroke Ethan's tangerine sized balls. This sent a jolt from piss slit straight down the shaft, into his balls, and then up to his head and across his nose tip and into his lower lip. Contorting, twisting, his right foot raising its heel in the air and to the left while it stayed on its tip toes, his right knee twisting in, his left foot firmly flat on the floor but his left toes curled up, while he threw his head, back, shoulders, and arms backward, and clinching his hands in a fist, held his chest and arms in a pose as he let the feeling of orgasm out. "EAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU HA HUH HUH UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HUH HUH HUH AH HUH AHHHHH AHhhhh huh huh ah WHOO huh huh a huh uh uh uh whooooooooooooooooooo." No one thought to measure the distance of the shot, although it was long and coated several gentlemen. Everyone who saw it swore it was like watching old faithful. Many were certain, when he fucks someone, when he reaches climax, the power of the shot will blow someone's head off. The crowd went ecstatic giving roars and applause. The chant of Ethan's name came again with more folks calling him a god among men. When he started to move and walk away, everyone stepped back giving him room. Everyone just lightly touched him as though if by doing so they would begin to grow and be blessed. Some did pat him on the back or butt in congratulatory praise. Until there was one man, Lauro, a dark haired, eyed, and skinned, thin and skinny man of 5' 5" tall from Brazil who loved one thing in life. "Mr. Olson, I love cock! HUGE COCK!" The crowd went silent. There were murmurs about how you just don't ask a man of this size, this caliber, or even imply if you can suck his cock. You wait for him to recognize you. Ethan looked down at Lauro who was not trembling and casting his eyes away. Ethan smiled softly and his dominant dong began to inflate once again. The crowd cheered at the sight of this and Ethan picked up Lauro one-handed and ripping off the man's shorts, stuffed him onto the end of his member and walked him back thus to his suite. ***************************************************************************** In the morning Ethan felt a little tired, but good. Poor, poor, Lauro was splayed on his back on the bed, still asleep or perhaps unconscious with a pleasant smile upon his face. Ethan was still getting used to himself, his body, and he felt like he needed to do something. He felt antsy. He felt pent up somehow. Finally he decided to do a calisthenics workout using his own body weight as resistance, performing sit-ups, crunches, push-ups, and arm dips at various angles, followed by pull ups, squats-thrusts, and planking. Afterwards, pumped and sweaty, he walked into the master bathroom and proceeded to take a shower, losing himself in his thoughts and his body. His now massive hands ran over and over himself. It felt so odd, yet so good. His eyes were closed, but he kept seeing visions of himself as this short, pudgy man, yet his fingers were giving him the picture of this man that was exceptionally tall, extremely and powerfully built, with bloated and full belly muscles, deep defining crevices that Lauro's finger tips were lost in, plump and thick veins he could trace, very prominent nipples, and a cock that didn't seem to stop. Without vigorously stroking his cock, Ethan sent himself into a primal roaring orgasm such as he could hear the blast of cum splattering against the glass over the shower head spray and water draining. Coming out of the bathroom, nude, and striding through the master bedroom into the dining area, Ethan came out to see Ándras with a couple of garment bags draped across his wheel chair. "Oh... Ándras." "Morning, Ethan. I knocked, but no one answered, so I let myself in. If it bothers you I can let you get dressed and come back." Ethan stood there for a brief moment, but then a smile came across his face. "Nah..." He began walking around hips slightly thrust out so his cock could achieve a full pendulum swing. "I'm good. What brings you by, friend?" "I'm here to get you ready to join all of us today; Lauro in there as well. The port of call today is Monaco and we're going to spend it style." And unzipping one of the bags he revealed a tuxedo. Ándras, being a man of some wealth, frequently on these cruises treats some of the men he's made friends with to a luxurious day at one of the best casinos in Monaco. As they piled into the shuttle bus, Ándras introduced everyone to a new friend, Antoine Lefresne. He was an older man around 5' 11" tall, 300 pounds of round rotund weight, with hazel eyes and a crown of grey hair speckled with white. It seems that he had Ethan's costume for the evening's party: Fetish Night, and the costume came with him as a mandatory accessory. But first they arrived at the casino, and once again the pack was introduced to another friend of Ándras', but this time it was a distant relative of his and was a woman, Argent Fortuna. She was stately, tall, stoic and graceful in movement, with cascading blond curls that framed her teal eyes and her coral lips which formed a devastating smile. She lead them into the casino wearing a golden dress made of many layers of fringe, all tipped with what looked like coins. She escorted the gentleman to various tables throughout the day, laughing with them, drinking with them, blowing on dice, or knocking the table for their cards. Ethan was having a grand time attempting to try all of the various table games and saying hello to so many people. Folks just had to pull him over to be with them as they gambled. Surely, a man of such size and strength brought luck, or they were just in awe and love with him - this walking wall with the most handsome face. Men and women we giving him chips - and hotel room keys - left and right. Towards the end of the day, Ethan was a little tipsy. Not really drunk, but just buzzed. Enough to feel warm and really relaxed. He'd had a very fun day, although he still wasn't exactly sure of everything. He'd seen various color chips being passed here and there but didn't know how much each were worth. He had basic knowledge of each of the games but didn't really know how to play. He had played and gambled so much that eventually his chips had been exchanged and he was now carrying twenty grey colored chips. It was at that point that he recognized the back and dress of Argent, who was standing at a table, and went to approach her. She suddenly turned as if to leave and her foot was out enough to cause Ethan to trip. Ethan fell forward towards the table, stumbling and attempting to secure his footing again to stand and hopefully not bump the table. He managed to stop, but his torso was bent precariously over the table and he was flailing his arms desperately to keep his balance. Eventually his chips slipped out of his hand and he moved his giant paw to swiftly catch them, but instead wound up gathering them back into a stack and slamming them down on the table. He stood there breathing heavily for a moment. Everyone around the table had gasped fearing the worst that Ethan would fall and his body size would flip the table. Instead they all breathed a sigh of relief when he stood up straight and tall, and the croupier, realizing Ethan had tripped his way up to the table, asked him if he was indeed wanting to place a bet. Ethan felt everyone kind of press in against him, and not knowing the value of the chips he had, just looked down at where his hand and chips had landed, smiled, and said, "Sure why not.... I like the number zero. It's simple and round, and I like the color green, too." The crowd of course was agog over this and the bet was spread like wildfire throughout the casino with everyone who could getting as close as they could to the table. Many people whispered that Ethan surely had to have a pair as big as his muscles, and that he must have already been loaded. Argent came and stood next to Ethan, grabbing a hold of him and whispered in his ear, "Good luck." The croupier called out that bets were now closed and then proceeded to spin the wheel and the ball. Ethan however nearly had a heart attack as although he knew he was playing roulette, he hadn't known he just made the bet with the greatest odds of losing and with a one-hundred thousand dollar bet at that. Round and round the wheel spin and the ball went. The ball began to slow down... it shifted into the deflectors, it travelled around the small space in between, and passing the slots.... Black 17, Red 25, Black 2, -... Red 21, .... Black 4, .... .... Red 19, .... .... .... Black 15,..... ..... ......Red 32, The crowd gasped as the ball seem to freeze on the wheel edge before the numbered slots until finally..... clack clack clack clack.... it dropped and spun a little in a slot. "GREEN ZERO! PAY OUT TO THE WINNER: THREE MILLION FIVE-HUNDRED THOUSAND!" Ethan was, needless to say, gob-smacked. You could've knocked the giant man down with a feather. Even more so once Argent let him know that the total listed by the croupier would be the amount he received in Euros and that the American equivalent was 4,341,715 dollars. Argent led the shocked and silent Ethan to the Casino offices, after making sure he took his lower valued chips and spread them as tips to the croupier, the waitresses that served him, and few other folks. She then helped him to sign off on paperwork to pay the taxes on his winnings, and have the bulk of them transferred to his account in the US, with just enough to keep and have some fun with the last day of the cruise. A little while later, back on ship, the still in shock Ethan was sitting in his suite when there was a knock on the door. He had completely missed dinner and there was Antoine Lefresne dressed in tight leather pants, black knee high boots, black fingerless gloves, black and metal harness, a riding crop in hand, and a mask that made him look like a fat version of Bane from DC comics. After allowing Ethan to grab something, quickly, to eat before the dance, he then helped Ethan into his costume. The loin cloth was easy enough. So too were the sandals and the small black mask - not that that was really going to be effective as who else was a seven and half foot tall hulk on the cruise? However the rest of his outfit consisted of a very heavy gauged chain that was wrapped around Ethan's torso and arms, with his arms being secured behind his back. From the front there was a slightly smaller gauged chain that extended out and Antoine held in his hand. Everyone oohed and ahhed at the sight when Ethan and Antoine arrived and whooped and hollered at the antics as Antoine whipped Ethan every once in a while and gave him orders to kneel, or let Antoine ride his shoulder, or for Ethan to suck his cock, or the fact that despite so much length of heavy chain wrapped around him and binding his arms and hands, Ethan was capable of dancing pretty well. Towards the end of the evening though there was a small side contest that developed. Those of the BDSM set wanted to see who's "slave" or "pet" could do the most or best thing for their master. Antoine wasn't going to enter as he knew this was new to Ethan, and Ethan wasn't his usual partner in this fetish, so he thought better of it. However the crowd began to cheer Ethan's name, and try and pull him towards the dais and then cry out Antoine's name too. For some reason Ethan had to begun to think the idea might be really fun, and since Antoine had provided him with the costume for the evening he turned and kneeled in front of Antoine, still practically standing just as tall as him, and bowing his head, softly asked, "Please, master? May we?" Antoine smiled and jerking the chain hard, loudly proclaimed, "I make the decisions, and you're doing this whether you want to or not!" But what to have Ethan do? The other contestants had already put on quite a show, and some of them might not be able to be topped. Finally, Antoine decided, it must be a task based on Ethan's strength - his strength. Pulling Ethan up onto the dais, he stood aside, looked at Ethan and barked an order. "BUST THE CHAINS!" The crowd of men got all hushed, and whispers of worry and doubt spread through the crowd. Ethan was a giant of man, with a hulkish build, but could he do it? Ethan smiled and began to struggle a bit against the chains. "BUST THEM!" Ethan wiggle and squirmed once again. The chains were holding firm. "DO AS I TELL - BUST THEM!" Ethan shook and then went into doing deep breathing. His chest seemed to flare out a bit, his elbows possibly moved out to the side. He stood straighter and taller. The chains stopped making noise they were being pulled so tight. "BRAKE THOSE BONDS - I ORDER YOU!" Ethan breathed deeply again, once more his chest flaring out more, along with his lats this time. His arms looked as those they were blowing up again like balloons. His shoulders, back, and delts spread out wider. His legs looked as though they had become fuller and harder. Once again stood taller. There was some odd and eerie sound like something stretching, or being twanged. The sound of a supporting cable when stressed or thumped. "YOUR MASTER SAYS TO BREAK THOSE CHAINS!" And Antoine turned an whipped Ethan across the back of his thighs. Ethan didn't even flinch. Instead he breathed in deeply again. His head looked as though it rose higher. His mask suddenly snapped off. His feet burst his sandals. The rope tying his loin cloth around his waist dug in tightly. There was blood beginning to trickle from underneath the chains around his arms and pectorals. Veins were popping up all over his body and he seemed to swell and grow ever bigger. There was the sound of an eerie straining again. "I SAID TO BUST THOSE BONDS!" Antoine went to flailing on Ethan with the riding crop. Some men, even in the BDSM community thought it was taking it too far - although Antoine was striking the chains on Ethan's back as opposed to Ethan's skin. Ethan once again, widening his stance, breathed deeply. The sides of his sandals split completely. The rope for his waist band snapped. His body became more engorged with blood and more blood was seeping out from underneath the chains. His elbows and arms came out more. His back got wider and wider as well as his lats. His thighs swelled to impossible and inhuman shape regardless of his towering height. The men began to turn on Antoine telling him to give it up. Ethan was killing himself and it wasn't worth it. But suddenly Ethan decided one more try, without his master's order, needed to happen and as he breathed in deeply one last time... SNAP! There was a motion as one of the chain links broke and now formed a stretched out "C" as opposed to an oval. A split second more and the stillness of the night was broken by two more snaps and then the chains were no longer tight or together and slid off of Ethan's body. Once again, the crowd went mad, crying, having orgasms, cheering, screaming. Never before had they seen anything like this and yet here it was in front of them. A man.... a huge man.... a giant..... a man-god! Ethan turned, kneeled before Antoine who grabbed the award and then handed it over to Ethan, who in turn picked up Antoine and carried him back to his suite. ***************************************************************************** The next day, the last full day on the cruise, was spent without a special port but en route to the disembarking port of the cruise, Barcelona, Spain, but there were lots of fun, last day competitions. There was the race in high heels contest, the toss a handbag contest, a Mr. Muscles contest, Best Drag Queen contest, some sports competitions like swimming laps and such. Ethan of course took Mr. Muscles and a couple of the swimming competitions, although he never found a speedo to actual fit him. The one he wore gripped his ass like a second skin, and was pulled down so far in front by his cock, he could've just as well gone nude. They also made Ethan do some strongman kind of competitions. They had him blow up and burst a hot water bottle. The made a plank stage and had him lift it using just his back, leg, and knee strength. He had around 28 people on it at one time and was going for more, but the planks couldn't stand the weight of the people. The last night was also one of the nights where they showed various sexual acts and techniques to help men spice things up in the bedroom and refresh their sex lives. The plans for the evening were switched, and the presenters humbly asked Ethan if he'd step up on the platform, lie back, and they proceeded to show ways of how to take one's extremely endowed lover in, how to jack his super schlong off, how to rub it's head, how to clamp it off with a cock ring. ... ... ... They succeeded in making Ethan blow a load about six times, and he still didn't quite seem fazed by it. That evening was just an open dance party, except for one hour of the evening during which the three drag queen hostesses and Luca proceeded to announce a winner. "All right you filthy gigolos, man whores, and rich daddies, it is time to see the face of tomorrow!" "That's right Mama Hazel Tov. We are here to announce the new Mr. Eros Cruise 2018. But before we do that we want to reintroduce you to this last year's Mr. Eros Cruise 2017, Luca Mannheim. Get on out here, boy!" Luca showed up on stage wearing a tight white speedo, his sash, and fairly plain, golden crown, while carrying another sash and a crown with him. "Hmmm hmmm hmmmmm hmmmm Children, if you didn't get a chance to see him during this cruise.... that was your loss...and you're blind! Cacao, tell them what's going to happen!" "Thank chou, Cadence. The whichknner of this chear's Mr. Eros Cruise winz a custom selec-see-on of men's swimwear; a tuxhedo from Mr. Fey's Formal Wear; utility, formal, rainbow pride, and casual style kilts from Kilted Brothers; $5,000 dollars in dinero; plus chke receives an all paid trip for next chear's Mr. Eros Cruise 2018, staying in one of the larger suites, and with daily meal vouchers included. Candence..." "As those of you who are regulars know, normally we call for the top five contenders to come up on stage and we have some fun and take votes by applause-o-meter. However, this year we couldn't do that. This year the votes for the top five were so packed with just one person's name, there wasn't even enough votes left for a tally to consider other contestants, and even if we did, if all you bastards cheered for him like you voted for him, you'd only hear one or two of you scum bags applauding your other favorites. SO! We're just gonna go ahead and call it and crown the hunk o' the year. Hazel..." "It is no surprise who this man is. Bubeles, if you missed him on this cruise, Oy gevalt! You're not just blind, meshuganahs... ... ... you're dead! This paragawn of perfectiawn in looks, strength, and .... PACKAGE! This tower of powah.... this eight foot tall wawking mass of muscle.... Grown so big only because he has the biggest and warmest lil' heart in the world. Your new Mr. Eros Cruise....2018..... is....... " "ETHAN! ETHAN! ETHAN!..." "Shut up, you horny bitches! PEH! Ruin the moment for me and him. It's my job, damn it! Animawls. Oh to hell with you all. The winner is... ETHAN OLSON! Get on up here, hon!" Ethan stood there motionless. He couldn't believe he'd been voted on let alone took it by a landslide. Walking up and standing there he marveled, looking down at the 6' 4" Luca who only came up half way to Ethan's delts, or basically to his arm pits. There was a bit of laughter as Ethan had to drop to his knees in order for Luca to properly pin the crown on after the sash. The sash itself was a bit of amusement. Being so tall and with a chest so thick and lats so wide, instead of hanging across Ethan from right shoulder to let hip, it only went around him right shoulder to just under left lat and was so tight it look like it might rip apart at any moment. "Go on, Ethan, go greet your adoring, or rather horny, fans!" called out Hazel Tov. Ethan began to walk through them and was really mesmerized by how small everyone was. The few men like Stijn and Jayden who stood from 6' 10" to 7' 1" only came up about half-way up Ethan's column like neck. The slightly tall men like Kwame, Wei, Luca, and Arthur who stood from 6' 3 to 6' 5" only came up to the same place as Luca did, while the average sized men like Ony, Antoine, Enele, Metin, from 5' 9" to 6' 1" stood just under the arm pit and slightly above where the bottom of the lats met the obliques. Meanwhile Lauro, Bran, and Jason looked so short, with Yixin looking almost like a preteen to Ethan, their heights of 5' to 5' 5" making them reach only from where the lats join to down to just above the hip. Not only that but looking at his upper arm, his cold upper arm, he felt certain it could snap the waist bands of Yixin through Ony's pants, with the exception of Antoine as bulbously big his belly was. Antoine's big belly being about the only thing that didn't look slim next to Ethan's bulging bellied, thick and dense, muscles. Even turned sideways he could block a person from being seen, and many of the muscular men looked gaunt, thin, and under developed next to him. And some of those people were personal trainers! The party continued on as Ethan made his way through the crowd talking to everyone, getting felt up, having comparison pictures taken, dancing in groups, dancing with people on his shoulders or hanging off his arms. He was there until around two in the morning, when suddenly a way too short deck chair-lounger was pushed at his heels for him to fall back upon, which caused the legs, despite their being metal, to give way and bend or brake, with a few straps busting as well. Then Antoine, Arthur, Bran, Enele, Jason, Jayden, Lauro, Luca, Metin, Ony, Stijn, Wei, Yixin, and even Miguel, Stephan, and the porter, Kwame, all hoisted it up, albeit it with some great difficulty, and carried Ethan all the way back to his cabin. ************************************************************************** The next morning, the suite was a complete wreck. The swimsuits and clothes worn to the party were strewn and flung about everywhere. A couple dozen of champagne bottles were empty and scattered among the chairs, beds, and tables. Five carts of food were in disarray with their plates and serving dishes on every flat surface they could find. Almost every bed sheet and comforter had been pulled from here and there, as well as all the pillows, and were draped over this, that, and many a body. Jayden and Stijn the Dutch giants were sprawled out all over the master bedroom's bed. On either side on the floor lie Luca and Wei. Antoine was asleep in a recliner chair in the living area, while Arthur, Bran, and Kwame were entwined, asleep in one of the smaller bedrooms, and Enele, Jason, Lauro, and Metin were in the last bedroom asleep on the floor, the mattresses from the two twin bunk beds being pulled down. Miguel and Stephan were passed out on the pull out bed in the Library-study room, and that looked possibly broken. Last was Ony and Yixin, curled up together on top of several blankets with one comforter on top of them, all on top of the dining room table. It was into this scene that Ándras wheeled himself, smiling and smirking as looked this way and that to see who had done what and who was together. There was a stench of cum and sweat and musk that rolled, not wafted, rolled through the entire suite. "Gentlemen.... it is time to get up.... up...Up...UP....UP!!" roared Ándras. "Noooo." moaned Luca. "Yeeees" answered Ándras. "It is time to get up and quickly grab something to eat." "I'm..... too full of cum." Said Bran as he belched out loud in protest. "Give me the cereal" said Yixin on the dining table. "I think I'm full of..... milk? Do men's breasts produce milk?" "Who knows, but a man's pecs might. Those two, huge, granite like globes or slabs of rock on that man-god are called pecs. They can never be confused as breasts." Mumbled Wei. "He can certainly bounce them like breasts" yawned Yixin. "I don't think I can move anything below my waist." called out Jason. "Who got fucked by Ethan's third leg?" inquired Enele. "I think we all did." said Kwame, who was trying to focus his eyes on a clock. "OH MY GAWD! I am so fired!" "Calm yourself, Kwame." stated Ándras calmly. "I have taken care of you, telling your superiors I have called for your assistance in packing my things, then heading over to help take care of Mr. Mannheim, and then Mr. Olson. Go, put your uniform on a couple of different hangers, take them into the secondary bathroom, take a good hot shower with soap, and then bring the uniform back out here to air by the balcony doorway. "As for the rest of you... you need to get up, get moving, and help clean this place up. We will be arriving at the last port of call in four hours time. Your stuff must be packed and you must be ready to disembark." There was a collective shout of "OH SHIT!" from everyone as they made their way to the trays and carts Ándras had brought in, followed by everyone grabbing all the clothes and helping them sort them out, followed by grabbing all the blankets and bed sheets, folding them up, and putting all mattresses back into place, save one. "Anyone know where the couch hide-a-bed mattress is?" called out Metin. "For that matter..." asked Jayden "Where is Ethan?" Everyone froze for just a moment looking around in all the rooms and noticing he was not there. Finally Jason called out, "He's here in the Master Bedroom's Bathroom!" And there he was, stretched out in the tub, with the couch's hide-a-bed mattress underneath him, resting his head on a pillow, his body filling the entirety of the tub, and his feet sticking out almost two feet past the rim. Jason having found his camera took several pictures. Ándras spoke. "You will tastefully edit those, won't you, Mr. Walker?" "I'll edit them for the Cruise's website and program book." Jason smirked. "I'll send all of us copies of the full monty." There were cheers from everyone and a grin and roll of eyes from Ándras. They let Ethan sleep for about as long as they could and got the suite cleaned up as best and as fast as they could. Kwame moaned in worry over the fact that some pictures and lamps were broken, a couple of plates, but Ándras ushered him out the door and told him to take care of Luca's suite, he'd take care of the damage here and meet Kwame in his suite later. Ethan was finally woken up and helped clean and straightened up the rest of the mess made, ate some brunch items, got his suitcases packed with his clothes that he didn't really recognize. When all was done he took his travel bag with him, turned his keys into the front desk, and then waited by the railing for the gangplank to be lowered, the door opened, and everyone to disembark. He was near that same spot he met Ándras that first night, and Ándras was the last person he'd see. "You left your sandals back in your suite Ethan." Ethan looked down at his feet and noticed they were bare. "I guess I've been so used to party living, I forgot that I needed to wear shoes elsewhere." Grabbing the sandals he looked at the heel of the sole and saw the imprint of 28 on them. Suddenly visions, memories, flooded back to him. He closed his eyes and waited for the swooning to stop. "It's not real, is it?" he said to Ándras. "What's not real?" "Me. I've forgotten it most of the trip, but I have been changing, growing, into a giant muscled behemoth with a devastatingly handsome face and a horse cock, but I'm really this average height, pudgy guy, with fairly bland features. It's not real... ... ... this. I'm going to change back aren't I? Somehow this was just to give me a taste of the wild side, an adventure. Somehow, you know. I'm sure you know." "Ethan... it doesn't have to change. You could come with me and you could be so much more." "And where would that be?" "I can't tell you that." "And if it's more like these last two weeks, that's still not really real... is it?" "What do you mean?" Ethan crouched down besides Ándras' and his wheelchair. "This was.... interesting.... don't get me wrong, I definitely had fun, made some wild friends, but no one was really interested in a true meaningful relationship, or friendship. I became this like demi-god, and everyone wanted to make friends but only because of my body, not because who I am. Could you promise me something substantial if I left and went with you?" "That would depend upon what you become." "Would I become something other than who I am?" "Yes." Ethan sighed. "I don't think so. I love how I feel, how I look, the confidence it has given me. I've had more fun sexually than anyone should allow or have. I know I could probably go out there and grab anything I wanted now. Do anything. But... ... ... I have a boyfriend back home. Noah. Despite all of the fun times and the sex, I couldn't stop thinking of him. Despite our having kind of fight before I went on the cruise, I still love him. Even if I was to take you up on your offer or start this new life... .... .... I would need to see Noah first to set things straight. He deserves that." Ándras smiled at Ethan and patted him on the hand. They stood there for a while in that comfortable silence only two close friends can create and enjoy. The gangplank had been lowered and the gates opened. Nearly all the guests had left the ship. After strapping his sandals on, Ethan walked up to the gangplank and took a deep breath. Just as he was about to step off, there was the sound of a huge splash of water, and turning to look back where Ándras was, all he saw was Ándras' empty wheel chair drenched with water, but Ándras was nowhere to be seen. Ethan smiled and nodded knowingly, as though he knew this is how it should be. Turning back to the gangplank, he crossed past the gates and proceeded down. KA-LUMP KA-LUMP KA-LUMP KA-LUMP KA-LUMP KA-LUMP .... all the way down the gangplank, through the shore side gate and there Ethan saw.... everyone was still so small and short to him. People strained their necks to look up to him and backed out of the way as he walked down the street. His cell phone rang. It was Noah. He managed to get some school tests done and out of the way to scrape together a week off. He had called Ethan's boss and told him that Ethan was sick. He was sorry for how he and Ethan had left things. Could they take some time here in Barcelona to talk things over, and he would actually listen. Noah said he'd be waiting by the luggage carousel in the airport, and asked for Ethan to please meet him there. *********************************************************************** Ethan easily made his way toward the baggage claim area and saw what was once the semi-large form of Noah sitting in a chair. Deciding to go for a shock factor, Ethan chose to sit directly behind Noah, having to slide down not to hide his height, but because the size of his two thighs wouldn't fit in the seat and their armrests. They still were bent slightly outward. "It's me, Noah. Don't turn around. Just talk." "You okay? You sound like you have cold or something." "Yeah, caught it on the last couple of days of the trip." "Otherwise you enjoy yourself?" "Yes." "Good.... I'm glad.... I'm sorry I basically called you a boring stick in the mud. I didn't mean to insult you. I like your stability. I like your promptness. Your ability to plan and organize. Not just because you help me and my life with it, but because it's you. It's how you are. It's part of your character and I fell in love with that quirky part of your personality. I just think you should get out every once in a while and have some fun. Not like you have to do it every day." "Well... I can see where you are coming from. I could easily make our lives stuck in a rut boring. Need to shake things up sometimes. Plan something unplanned." "Ethan..." "Yeah, Noah?" "Can you forgive me? Can we take the next week to explore Barcelona and ourselves again?" "I think that could be arranged." They sat there for a moment. Noah becoming a little frustrated that the conversation wasn't continuing on. Worried that the last two weeks might have been too much of a good time. "Did you make any new friends?" "Yep." "Did you.... uh..... find a lover?" "Yep. About seventeen or so, actually?" "WHAT? How could you have seven...." and Noah spun around in his chair to face off with Ethan and stopped dead in his tracks, mouthing the words Oh my gawd, as Ethan stood up and up and up to turn around and face him. "How could I have seventeen lovers? Well, it could be because of my height...." and Ethan stood up as straight as he could. "My mighty muscles... " and Ethan flexed his biceps. "Or maybe it's my four foot cock?" Noah swallowed hard. "You.... have....a ....four..." "But don't worry, with enough exercises for you and lube for both of us, I'm sure we can make it work." And then he bent down and whispered to Noah. "No, it's not really four foot long, but it definitely is a record breaker." Noah stood there looking up at the man who used to come just up to the top of his ears and now he just barely came up to Ethan's armpit. Noah stammered. "How....when....this.... hap....growth.... so.... huge..." Ethan smiled as he noticed Noah's pants beginning to tent out. "Do you like what you see, Noah?" "Oh my gawd...I love you the person, but this body, the man.... ... I so want to fuck you right now." whispered Noah. "Well.... why not?" With that Ethan got up, saying nothing else, and went to the restroom. Noah followed with Ethan's suitcase and his and stood by the door. A moment later Ethan opened the door just slightly a jar, grabbed his and Noah's suitcases, and pulled them in. Noah, looking puzzled, walked through the restroom door. "Ethan what are doing?" There was the sound of cloth being fluffed, maybe pulled? "OH MY GAWD! ETHAN, MY PANTS!" There was another sound of clothing being fluffed, or again was it pulled? "OH MY GAWD! ETHAN YOU PULLED YOUR PANTS DO......" There was the deafening silence of a pause, the sound of a gasp... "OH MY GAWD, ETHAN YOU'RE GINORMOUS!" The sound of a stall door slamming open.... "OH MY GAWD, IT'S GROWING BIGGER!" The sound of a stall door slamming shut. "Ohhhh OH OH! OH MY GAWD! SO HU....AAAAAAUGH! "OH... "MY... "GAWD... "OH... "MY... "GAWD... "OH... "MY... "GAWD..." A Janitor with black hair and beard, streaked with white and silver, and the most gorgeous teal colored eyes, walked by and upon hearing the noises from the men's room, smiled and went into work on the ladies. Suddenly there was the sound of a dead bolt turning, the water pipes in the men's room began to whistle, moan, and sing loudly, and out of nowhere a sign faded into being upon the men's bathroom door. [OUT OF ORDER: THE PLUMBING NEEDS QUIETING.]
  4. Home of the Gods Part Seven by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13486-home-of-the-gods-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13487-home-of-the-gods-part-two-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13490-home-of-the-gods-part-three-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13502-home-of-the-gods-part-four-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13527-home-of-the-gods-part-five-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14012-home-of-the-gods-part-six-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Eight: "... This morning finds one of the suburb areas of greater New York in an awe of wonder or maybe fear. A small handful of folks thought they may have seen big foot, or perhaps the yeti in the very early hours of the morning. They described a creature as being around nine feet tall, maybe taller, extremely lanky, and white, lumbering through the streets and alley ways of their city. Most people believe it to be some kind of new internet horror hoax, but it seems there is proof. "Foot prints in the snow of some folks' yards have a very deep and long impression, measuring at least twenty-one inches long and 8 inches wide, which would turn out to be a US Men's shoe size 41 with an E width. Local chapter heads of Big Foot Societies and local scientists are battling off over the appearance. The scientists saying it's impossible for a humanoid creature to grow to such height and that the sighting contradicts the Big Foot Believer's own testaments as Yetis have only been supposedly spotted around the Himalayas, with the brown furred cousin, Big Foot residing across North America. They also believe that some art or prop department could have easily made a set of giant prop feet and made the marks in the snow. "However, the Big Foot Believers have countered with the variations in depth of the foot prints indicating that it could only have been made by something with multiple joints and bone structure, as well as photo graphs of wet foot prints made of surrounding sidewalks which show a definite skin print pattern. Things that either could not be created or been exceptionally expensive or time and material consuming to create for some kind of hoax. We will report later as more information is gathered on this strange case." Fabian jumped when he heard the far door to the warehouse open. There were a few steps taken and then finally there was a call out. "It's me, Fabe." In strode Reid looking drained and utterly knackered. "Reid, you look horrible..." "A full shift delivering packages with hardly any night's sleep the evening before will do that to one. I need you to hide in the side room for a bit. I've got some stuff for you in the delivery van, but I need to open the truck door and back it in to unpack it. Any reporters, investigators, or police show up?" "No. I think the foot prints on the sidewalk all evaporated or were covered by more wet rain or snow." After that night of growth, they decided to move Fabian into the small warehouse Reid used to house some of his extra stuff. Having reaching a staggering 9' 9" tall, Fabian was too tall for the apartment.... too big all around even. Despite not having a huge amount of musculature, his height had him bending at the waist with bent knees and his broad shoulders, he had to turn and twist sideways to get through a normal sized doorway. He had to walk stooped and bent kneed in order to move through the house as although he was still just over two feet shorter than the ceiling, the ceiling fixtures like fans and chandeliers were quite another story, smacking his head and shoulders. The archways where like the doorways - nearly three feet too short, and the bed was neither tall enough and almost not wide enough - especially if both of them were going to sleep in it, and even though a slim build, at that height his weight was too much for the dining room chairs and stools. All of them crumpled like they were supposed to be collapsible. Fabian went and hid in the make shift bathroom while Reid opened up the garage door part of the warehouse, backed the truck up, and emptied it. When he was done there were several stack pallets pieced together along with several pieces of extra long and thick foam padding, stacked in two, to form a ten foot long by nine and a half feet wide bed. Other pallets were used to form a small - but tall standing table, a stand for their big screen t.v., a make shift counter so Fabian could prepare meals, and one last set to build a chair large enough for Fabian to sit in. As Reid was constructing all of that, Fabian had started doing some work in the bathroom. Having torn down a wall between the bathroom and the office it was attached to, Fabian and Reid had hoped to make the whole area a bathroom for Fabian to use until such time as they found a house big enough to rent or attempt to buy that Fabian could fit into. Fabian was currently busy changing a pipe on the shower stall so he could raise the shower head up several feet so he could actually stand under it. Shortly after Reid shut the garage door and Fabian was on his hands and knees having attached a new longer pipe from the floor level, there was a soft moan from Reid followed by a goodly sized thud. "Oh Faaaaaaabiaaaaaaaaan! Come out, come out, wherever you are?" Through the regular people doorway, before Reid could notice, Gan Otkai, Arjun, and Fernando - the hair man, the hung man, and the bodybuilder respectively, had entered the warehouse and Fernando had picked up a loose board off of a pallet and struck Reid out cold with it. "We're so sorry to have come en mass unannounced, but we heard you've somehow managed to take care of three of our brothers single handedly." Spoke Arjun. "So we decided to come together and have a little party. Don't worry though. We brought our own booze since you seem to be sequestered away and living so... sparsely. And don't trouble yourself for any entertainment; you're going to be providing that in spades. At least you better. Reid wasn't that much fun at all." Fabian's mind boiled over. He was seeing red. What had they done to Reid. Crawling on his hands and feet, he attempted to peer around the doorway of the bathroom to see where they are. He wasn't successful in doing this unnoticed for the trio had managed to see his head poking around the doorway, at his current hand and knee height around four feet our so. "There he is." snickered Fernando. "Arjun.... go get him." On the command Fabian pulled his head back into the bathroom and just sat there waiting. Arjun ran to the doorway and turned to face what he thought would be his captive. However, there stood a giant of a man who was shaking his pelvis at him with a natural firehorse that some firemen might balk at. Swinging his cock around, Fabian smiled at Arjun and said, "Hello, dickless. I've got fourteen inches soft now. That's what three inches more than you erect?" Arjun didn't know what to say or do. He stood there stunned looking back and forth between the height of the man before him and the size of the man's junk. Within a flash Fabian grabbed Arjun by the throat with a yell, one handed, and easily pulled the 6' 4" man into the room, past himself, and throwing Arjun against the back wall. Arjun collapsed to floor very much dazed. Fabian then walked out standing tall and naked, there in all his current glory in the middle of the warehouse. Fernando and Gan Otkai gasped and took a single step backward in shock. They exchanged glances and Gan Otkai motioned for Fernando to do the honors. With a nod back, the near professional sized bodybuilder began running towards Fabian, screaming at the top of his lungs. Fabian stood tall and reared back his right fist, ready to make a connection, however once close by Fernando dropped his shoulders low and instead of a punch to Fabian's face or stomach, he thrust his shoulders into Fabian's pelvic region and hoisted him up while running. "Ok, you're a giant, but you're a slim one at that, and I can still lift and hoist you and slam you into this wall!" The lift and hoist happened but the slamming never did. Fabian reached out and latched one of his hands onto a passing doorway while allowing himself to slid down so his feet hit the floor. Once done it was an all out stop. Even with Fernando's momentum, Fabian wasn't going too far. This sudden stop with the momentum caused Fabian to turn sideways while Fernando wound up spinning off of Fabian's side and tripping into the wall he imagined as the target Fabian would hit. Fabian then took off running toward the other side of the warehouse where Gan Otkai was making a mad dash for the door. At 6' 8" he wasn't a small man, and had a decent build, but he knew better than to attempt to combat a person single handedly that stood just over three feet taller than him. He made it to the door and just got it opened before this enormous paw of a human hand smacked the door shut and held it here. Gan Otkai turned around to see exactly who or what was attacking him, but then he saw stars. Fabian had leisurely balled his hand up in a loose fist and then bopped Gan Otkai on top of the head. It was a small little gesture to Fabain, without a lot of strength or effort, but it was enough to Gan Otkai that it crossed his eyes, made his sinuses sting and his nose tingle, and made his whole body swim. Fabian dragged his body by the collar towards his newly made chair. With the dropping of Gan Otkai's body, Fabian suddenly had a sharp pain as Fernando had returned, once more picking up and using the board, smacking Fabian's side. Fabian ran round the warehouse picking up momentum to out distance Fernando, but being inside a building, even as large as this was, Fernando was bound to catch up again to him at some point. They ran past the bathroom door way again, through which Arjun was attempting to exit. Fabian put his hand on Arjun's chest, which covered it, and shoved Arjun backwards back into the opposite wall of the bathroom. Eventually Fernando made contact, but this time it was to Fabian's blocking left arm. Fabian screamed aloud in pain, his skin was bruised and a little scraped, but surprisingly, the board itself became somewhat bowed and splintered. A dash again around the warehouse, brought the pair back near the pallet stack. Fernando picked up a couple and attempted to swing them at Fabian. Although he could handle the weight easily, the bulk proved to be a problem and his swing went a little wild and off mark. Dodging the swing, Fabian twisted and turned around to the pile and managed to pick up three pallets, hoisted them over his head, and before Fernando could recover from his weight shift stumble from his swing, brought all three pallets right down on top of Fernando's head from about an eleven to twelve foot drop. Gan Otkai had watched the whole thing in horror after having woken up in a slight daze and again was making a scurried sprint to the door as fast as his 6' 8" body would allow. Unfortunately he was jerked back by Fabian who had grabbed a tail of tresses of Gan Otkai's long flowing hair and, nearly ripping Gan's scalp off in the process, flung-dragged Gan to where Fernando lay, ordering him to get down and stay down. The fall resulted in Gan and Fernando's heads clunking, knocking Gan Otkai out cold. "YES! That's what I'm talking about!" screamed Fabian, not exactly himself. "Who's the alpha? WHO'S THE ALPHA AND WHO'S THE BITCHES? BI-ATCHES! AUUUUUUURGH!" Fabian danced around looming over them, feeling so happy he had won. Feeling almost pumped. Feeling excited....powerful.....horny..... As he danced his huge soft anaconda of a dick began to grow and stretch, thicken and lengthen, rising up more and more until it reached full rigidity jutting out nearly two feet from his crotch. Arjun had finally cleared his head and was coming out of the bathroom. Turning to see the sight of his friends collapsed on the floor and the 9' 9" tall Fabian hop-dancing around them and Fabian's giant member, he let out a small, but still quite audible, "Eeep!" Upon hearing it, Fabian turned and faced the direction Arjun was in. In was seemed like just two strides he stood in front of Arjun, face to face, or rather face to abs. That is abs blocked by enormous cock. Arjun just stood there, shaking and transfixed at the size of the man before him. His own package felt like it was receding inside of him at the site of a man more hung than he would ever be. Fabian looked down at the man and just stood there, slightly smirking. After quiet some time he looked down at Arjun said, "Goodnight." and with that took his hand and pulled his cock towards the side by its large, helmet like head, then let it go to smack Arjun up side of his head. Arjun turned on his heels, it was a forceful enough of a smack. He saw stars and felt utterly humiliated. He was going down due to being struck by a penis? Then Fabian's hand came down and finished him off with another of his light taps on the noggin. It was almost instant. The moment that Arjun hit the ground - the drums started. Pounding and pounding. Louder and louder. The noise building up in intensity and frenzy. Names carried in on the breeze began to echo all around the warehouse. Ke'atutelmusele... Ke'atuaule.... Ke'atutelho'i.... Ke'atutel'lauoho.... Ke'atutelmusele... Ke'atuaule.... Ke'atutelho'i.... Ke'atutel'lauoho.... Ke'atutelmusele... Ke'atuaule.... Ke'atutelho'i.... Ke'atutel'lauoho.... The pipes began to sing and hum louder and louder with the drums. The hiss of steam began to escape out of some of the joint joins as the pressure inside the pipes built up. The area that a making shift kitchen was being made had its sink explode water out of the spigot, fill the basin, and then the cascading water fell, streamed, and pooled around Fabian's feet. Once that was done the new pipe Fabian had laid for his shower exploded and hot water shot up like a geyser to fall down on top of Fabian. Using the water as lubricant, Fabian began to rub his massive hands up and down every inch of his torso, one hand eventually moving down to a thigh. He moaned in sweet satisfaction as his left hand began to fondle and play with his left nipple as his right hand began to cup and caress his balls and the stroke the base of his cock. "Oooooh yeah...... OOOOOOH YEAH!......... SWEET FUCK YES! YES! YES!" A slight spray of water had started striking Reid's face and he began to wake up. Feeling fuzzy headed his turn and say Fabian standing in the middle of the warehouse feeling himself up. Eventually Fabian stood with feet shoulder width apart, legs slightly bent, his shoulders tilted back, his arms outstretched and hands balled up in a fist. Repeatedly over and over again he screamed out "yes" like he was being sexually pleasured and done so quite well. At first Reid didn't notice it, but then he started to realize the veins on Fabian's prick were plumping up further, thicker. It started near the head and worked its way up the shaft before disappearing into the light hairs of Fabian's crotch. After that they began to rise and swell all over Fabian's abs then spreading up across his obliques, lats, chest, traps, shoulders, biceps and forearms, while also traveling lower across his thighs, calves and feet. His feet began to grow a little thicker, a little wider. As though he already had big feet, which he did, but they were being made wider by becoming more muscular, supporting more and more bodyweight, or being used to support a body that was hefting an extreme amount of weight. They swell meatier and heavier, followed by the ankles that became incredibly thick as though Fabian wasn't just an extremely tall man, but one who was thick boned, thick built. A body whose thickness would scream, "yeah... if I worked out I'd already start out two to three inches thicker than you and can build more mass on me than you ever would." This was followed by his calves thumping and swelling to the pumping of his blood. Each contraction it grew larger, thicker, harder that little ball of muscle that moved up and down when you walked or were on the balls of your feet. This turned into a much larger ball that all would know kicks soccer balls. Then the upside down heart formed pumping in time with its shape's namesake and getting larger by the minute. Soon a rock hard diamond stood on the back of each of Fabian's shins and that grew and expanded from that triangular look to more of a rectangular emerald cut with slightly rounded corners. Reid, still on the floor, felt himself tenting up, getting turned on as he realized Fabian was growing and swelling well beyond an olympic sized bodybuilder and combine with his height, Fabian's calves had grown to surpass the measurements of his upper arm. Fabian moaned and began to perform some slight knee bends as his thighs began to engorge and inflate with size and power. It at first looked like his thighs were simply getting fatter and fatter, but then one by one, each tear drop shape of his thigh began to grow and grow looking like balloons being inflated with gallons of water, but appearing hard, cut, and striated. Eventually his thigh biceps began to expand and harden and widen out the shape and size of his thigh from the back. Reid was positive when done, each of Fabian's thighs were bigger round than his waist... .... possible his chest! As he looked back over, Reid saw Fabian now twisting and crunching, stretching out his midsection and his abdominals and obliques began to grow in size, shape, and definition. Like those special effects in movies and t.v. shows where the infection or vampire blood spreads through the victim, the lines of Fabian's abs and obliques formed. Crunch, the lower rows of abs were outlined. Twist, the middle rows and lower obliques came to definition. Stretch! All of the lines spread out and criss-crossed his torso defining dozens of obliques and something like and eight-pack of abs. The bubbles of abdominals continued to swell and grow like two columns of miniature bread rising in the oven. When that was done, it looked as if Fabian received a case of hiccups. His back and head would go back a little and then his arms would bounce a bit. But with each bounce his arms were hanging differently at his body's sides. First they hung straight down and close, touching the body. HIC...not so close....HIC....he was like an athlete, the arms slightly out, forearms and hands bent towards the waist. HIC....upper arms are near ten degrees from the shoulder, hands are now freely hanging away from the body, only slightly hitting the thighs when walking. HIC....twenty degree angle. The upper arms sticking out, the lower arms bending back inward. HIC.... HIC..... forty degree angle, the arms almost look as though Fabian is beginning to imitate a plane. The lower arms hang with room to spare between them and the sides and even the abs of Fabian. His lats have been developing and they have grown thicker, wider. When his traps develop as much and as full as the lats have, the effect will look similar to the hood of a cobra on Fabian's body. "Oooooooh" Fabian was moaning and now placing his hands on his pecs and rubbing them...caressing them... cupping them....fondling them...out right groping them. With each squeeze, he'd bounce them, and with each bounce they grew and Grew and GREW. First the thin but tight outline showed, followed by two shallow crescent moons, which grew into small plates, then huge platters, then two semi circular globs, and now barreling out into two huge globes, and then still increasing in thickness and width their front shape squared up somewhat like an upside down trapezoid, but from the side looked like two giant oak casks were lodged into place just under Fabian's collar bones. During this time his nips had grown harder and harder, a little longer and thicker and along with their respective areolas, which had grown slightly oval and larger, had moved from sticking straight out to moving down...down...down... the pectorals until they were on the edge of lower front and underside. So firm, so long, so thick one might now consider calling them teats. Reid, still trying to fight his way to full consciousness, could only continue to watch, from the floor, in silence as he felt his ragging hard on become like steal and throb so hard it was causing physical pain. His pre cum was soaking the inside of his underwear and beginning to make a spot appear on his pants. But the show wasn't done by far as Fabian began to roll his shoulders and shrug. First the traps began to rise: hills....plateaus....mountains rising higher and higher up toward Fabian's head. But this mountain range was soon to be broken apart right in the middle by Fabian's neck that elongated slightly and then became thicker and thicker until his own head look like it rested upon a column of granite. The growth spread down and across his back now making his back, lats, and shoulders ever wider than before. When flexed correctly he didn't have a lil' Christmas tree shape. He had a giant arrowhead. And as the growth hit his shoulders they inflated into beautiful, hard balls - the size of bowling balls, beech balls, giant globes onto of ancient plinths that Altas himself could not shrug. And now the power flowed into the upper arm, first working on the triceps. A small ball was there shrinking and swelling as Fabian moved his arm. Then it grew into kind of a tear drop shape swelling with new power. Again it grew into something resembling the size of a football plastered on the underside of Fabian's arms. Still again it grew in mounds until there was this horse shoe shaped item so thick and bulging from the back of Fabian's arm. It would have looked odd, maybe like some kind of gross growth, but the biceps was soon to join in. The vein swelled and ran straight across the top of Fabian's bicep and it firmed up into that youthful toned look. Then a small ball formed and rolled back and forth whenever Fabian flexed. It grew to become the size of a baseball.... a grapefruit....it then began to morph a bit and when flexed showed two heads and a peak at the top of the ball. Higher and higher it rose looking as though someone had affixed a model of Mount Fuji from a diorama onto Fabian's arm. Together with the triceps Fabian's upper arms, both, separately were larger round than his own head. The arms finished up their growth the forearms, which if they had started would make Fabian look like the cartoon character of Popeye the Sailor Man. The whole effect of Fabian's body was akin to a slightly more realistic hulk. Having stumbled a bit after the water had struck him, he experienced much of the growth in another area of the warehouse on top of an old scale. It still worked and as Reid focused he had noticed the numbers go up and up and up... 852 pounds .....900 .....950 .......1000 .....1100 ......1200 .....1300 .....1400 .....1500 .....1550 ....1600 .....1601 ...1602 .....1603 ....1604 ....1605 ....1606 ....1607 ...1608 ....1609 .....1610. Fabian began to caress himself again. To glide his massive hands over all the rises and ridges into the crevices and valleys that were his massive muscles, but as he did so he appeared to get slightly darker? Reid squinted and watched as Fabians skin looked somehow darker and yet seemed to sparkle or shimmer. It was then that Reid realized it was hair. Fabian was getting hairer. Thicker and longer it grew on his body, feathering over his hands and forearms, half way up his upper arm, spreading from an ever thickening bush around his cock straight up his abs, all of them in their entirety, on to cover his chest, sprouting in a bush under each arm, followed by starting again half way down his upper arm, engulfing his fore arm and stopping on the backs of his hands. On top his face developed a five o'clock, midnight, one day, two - three day growth across his jaw line and upper lip, while on his head, his hair began to flop in front of his eyes and hang between his ears and shoulders. Given its deepening honey golden appearance, if he had a hammer, everyone would've sworn he was the god, Thor. Once the hair was done, Fabian began to buck his hips, but was moaning and crying as if he was having abdominal pain. A few jerks here and another few there, Reid watched as Fabian's balls grew a little larger, a lot fuller, hung slightly lower. Reid's mouth salivated as he watch the sight. Fabian had grown into a tree, and here were the nuts...the cherries...the apples...the lemons .... the grapefruit that hung from that tree and Reid desired to taste it so much. But then a new growth began to happen and Reid's eyes widened his awe, in desire, in lust, in fear.... For Fabian, who was already quite hung due to his cock being enlarged to accept more gods by the God, Ke'atuka'ine, was now taking on and over the trait of the other man he defeated, Arjun, who was nearly as hung as hung to could be. It grew out while flaccid, just a little, but what is just a little measurement on everything else, can be an extreme amount on something physical like a cock. Two inches, that's all it was, well a little more. As Fabian's cock grew from 14 inches soft to sixteen and one-fourths inches flaccid, Reid cried just a little and shifted his ass. Then the show really began. Despite the pleasurable moaning and stroking Fabian had down while his schlong oozed out more from his body in flaccid state, the veins had reappeared and were now snaking their way back across the super shaft and making it grow, thicken, and harden to a full erection. Seventeen inches....eighteen.... nineteen.....twenty.....twenty-one....twenty-two......twenty-three.......twenty-four. Once fully erect Fabian stood there with his two foot long billy-club and began to stroked it hard, fast, and continuously. Screaming out things like "Oh yeah! Big man! and Who's hung?" Fabian worked his personal pole better than any dancer could do at a club. His fore and upper arms swelling more from a pump created by the exercise. His mighty chest heaving harder and faster, his abs contracting. His might granite like legs shaking, his feet beginning to tumble while his toes began to curl. His breath becoming ragged. "Oooooh OOOOOH OH OH OH OH OH OH YEAH! OH YEAH! OH YEP! OH YES.... YES...YESSSSSSS..... AUGH..AH...HA...AHA...AH....AEIII...AEI....AH.... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" And with that Fabian's goodly sized balls contracted up, followed by a torrent stream of spoo shooting out of his wacker like some water cannon. Reid so in awe in what he was seeing, so in fear of what he had heard, he hadn't paid attention at the direction Fabian was facing. The blast was aimed right at him and it hit him in the face and then chest, sending Reid tumbling backwards where he passed out unconscious again, but this time with a slight smile on his lips, his brain having finally unfuzzed moments before the sperm impact. Fabian let out a roar of satisfaction that shook the warehouse walls and then collapsed to his knees, slightly chipping the concrete floor. The energy spent in jacking and off and releasing combined with the growth of muscle, hair, balls, and cock, had spent his energies and he collapsed unconscious to the floor.
  5. Home of the Gods Part Six by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13486-home-of-the-gods-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13487-home-of-the-gods-part-two-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13490-home-of-the-gods-part-three-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13502-home-of-the-gods-part-four-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13527-home-of-the-gods-part-five-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14012-home-of-the-gods-part-six-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Seven: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14350-home-of-the-gods-part-seven-by-f-r_eaky/ In the morning Fabian looked quite the site. His feet having grown and ripped out of his tennis shoes, it was known he wouldn't fit into any of his other shoes, especially his very form fitting bicycling shoes for hobby and work. Thus the morning's part of the day's deliveries were done with Fabian in his courier uniform, but with his feet being in just a pair of socks and a pair of Reid's size 17 flip flops - now only seven sizes too big for Fabian's feet, but the same feet are 4.5 sizes too large for the shoes Fabian owns. A bit of a hassle and exceptionally cold in the winter for his feet, but something inside Fabian kind of liked how his bigger feet looked in Reid's flip flops, especially when thinking how small they originally looked when the shoes were eleven and half sizes too large. A quick stop off during lunch to the bank and a shoe store and soon Fabian was cruising the streets in new size 10 bicycle shoes and a pair of sneakers for at home in his back pack. It was after his last delivery, and after he ran by a local Mexican restaurant to pick up two orders for dinner for him and Reid, yet another attack of the friends of Gabriel took place. Turning to ride down an alley between some apartments and a basket ball court, Fabian was suddenly yanked off his bicycle and thrown into the court. Shaking his head to recover from the throw and thus fall, Fabian looked up to view his attacker and looked up and up and up. It was the seven foot tall DeWayne who now straddled over the body of Fabian. Without wasting a moment, DeWayne picked up Fabian by his clothes and then slammed him, his back into a basketball pole and hoop. Taking the straps of the backpack Fabian wore and attaching them together, DeWayne had Fabian attached to the post. DeWayne then start lobbing basketballs at Fabian, alternating between making a hoop and letting it come down on Fabian's head or throwing them straight at Fabian's head or stomach. There were a couple of balls that made contact before Fabian began to shake the fog from his head and realize what was going on. He then began to raise his hands and bap the balls away from hitting his face or stomach. It wasn't too much longer before Fabian's mind was clear enough to realize what a lame trap this was as he just had to slip his arms out from his backpack shoulder straps to be free. "Oh no you don't!" Screamed DeWayne and he rushed toward Fabian. Fabian stood up with his hands up in a boxing like stance and bounced as though he was willing to take DeWayne on. DeWayne laughed at this sight and upon reaching Fabian went right into a swing to punch Fabian in the face, exactly what Fabian was expecting. Fabian dropped to his knees just before DeWayne's fist would have made contact, which caused DeWayne to punch the metallic pole supporting the basketball hoop. Clang! "YEEEEEOW! MOTHER FUCK! YOU'RE DEAD!" As DeWayne was shaking off the pain from his knuckles, Fabian unhooked and grabbed his backpack and his bicycle as he ran off the basketball court. As this was a frequently used route home, Fabian knew many of the people who lived in the brownstones, condos, or apartment buildings adjacent to the alleyway. Knowing he wouldn't be able to peddle as fast as he normally could, still clutching his stomach from the gut punch, Fabian opened a back gate of a building and tenants he knew well and semi flung his bike in there, able to pick it up later. He then proceeded to head through some open and garden plots on the way home. Sure enough, DeWayne was hot on his heels as the two were running and running. Through one fence line, Fabian ran through, turned and kicked a board to the right sending it across the bottom of the opening. DeWayne thinking Fabian had slowed down, believed he had a chance to catch him. No. Not seeing the board in time, DeWayne's decent sized feet and ankles hooked and tripped over the board with him unawares, sending him sprawling to the ground, which in this particular case happened to be a beautifully herringbone patterned brick walkway. "AUGH! YOU MIDGET SHIT!" bellowed DeWayne after he fell flat faced onto the walkway. Fabian didn't waste a moment and continued through the plot he managed to get to the out the yard and started running down the alleyway to get to another plot he knew, but he was suddenly tripped up by a flung garbage can lid. DeWayne had recovered faster than expected and having found some old can lids began throwing them frisbee style at Fabian. The first one managing to clip Fabian at calves and ankles. "Who the hell still has those style garbage cans?" Thought Fabian as he tried to recover his step. Knowing through the next fence break there was the back of a potting shed and on the side a small crack that only people as lithe and as small as him could squeeze through. It would buy him time. He ran through the break, grabbed a string he knew was secured on the other side, turned to see when DeWayne was coming and WHAM! Fabian went flying backwards into the back brick wall of the potting shed. Collapsing to the ground he looked up to see the looming form of DeWayne just behind the fence. He wheezed and coughed all while desperately trying to hold on to the string he had detached from the fence. DeWayne went off on a little self gloating rant like it was some major feat that his seven foot tall body could out run and catch up to Fabian's five foot two one. Eventually he bowed his head under the fences top frame to come through the space and finish Fabian off. Of course he lead with his head and then had to dip and twist to get his tall and broad frame through the small fence gap. One in that first position, bleary-eyed Fabian let go of the string and CLUNK! down came an 8 foot long 2 x 4 onto the back of DeWayne's head. The affect was instant. DeWayne's eyes rolled to the back of his head, his body went slack and down he went, falling more through the gap and forward his head and shoulders landing right at Fabian's groin area. Fabian lurched forward and swore he was going to hurl everything from today's lunch back to last week's breakfast. His vision became filled with black spots as the pain to his groin and testicles overwhelmed him completely. His ragged breathing from the ab smacking and the accidental groin head shot, Fabian pushed at DeWayne and pulled himself as best he could struggling to get his groin and legs out from under the mega-man. As he continued his slow struggle the slow and low sound of drums beating in rhythm began to be heard. The snow underneath the pair of men began to melt away and puddle in this slightly dipped section of the yard. Soon it began to become so warm wisps of steam was rising from the ground and the same thing was happening in the basin of a bird bath to the right of the two fallen men. The chanting then began to be heard loud and clear. " Ke'atutel'luga... Ke'atutel'luga... Ke'atutel'luga... Ke'atutel'luga... Ke'atutel'luga... Ke'atutel'luga” Right at the moment that Fabian managed to break free from the heavy body of the unconscious DeWayne, the tiny solar powered fountain in the birdbath tilted and began to act as if it was a power-hose connected to both a power station and a dam, spraying jets of water on the top of Fabian's head. Fabian attempted to walk, more like stagger, the new few blocks to his home. Racked with pain he could hardly focus and his head being overwhelmed with the sound of the drums and chanting didn't help. He eventually made it home, in twice the amount of time required, still breathing a little heavily, hurting in his stomach, and shaking cold from being wet. Bumbling through the apartment complex door, he poured himself into the elevator and road it up to his floor. It was a bit of work attempting to stand and work the key and lock of the door and he nearly fell in when it opened. Closing the door he stumbled towards the kitchen. He hoped to get a glass of water and maybe some alka-seltzer, something to calm his stomach. That's when it hit him. The chantting and drumming became louder, but Fabian no longer could hear it. The was this odd noise filling his ears like the sound of breaking twigs, and every time he heard it, his body was racked with pain. "Auuuugh!" His left hand shot for the refrigerator handle, while his right reached out for the center island. After steadying himself, he tried to focus, do some deep breathing to calm himself down, but his heart leapt up into his throat. His shoes were becoming tight. The brand new shoes that he bought this afternoon were beginning to become so snug they were cutting off circulation to his feet. He'd hear the sound of snapping twigs and then he'd feel the rip of fabric and leather. He saw his finger tips extend further into the center of the table, he felt the space between the refrigerator handle and its door become smaller. He felt his toes poking through his shoe front, his heel ripping out the back, the sides of his feet causing the shoe sides to roll over and below the sole eventually ripping and separating from the shoe. He began to feel his hand engulfing the refrigerator handle and taking up the whole space between, his knuckles getting pressed into the door....denting the door! Looking down, he saw his feet extend and extend and extend. He screamed to his self in his head "My feet are becoming skis!" He watched as they grew and grew taking over one whole square foot tile and begin to work fully on the next. He was about actually scream and cry out, with tears streaming down his cheeks when his arms, legs, and torso suddenly lurched and stretched after the twig snapping sound. "WuuuuuAAAAAAUUUGH!" Clinging for dear life to the island and the refrigerator he began to notice the fridge top was coming closer to him. "Oh, no.... no... no no no no no no no no no......" He cried in fear and panic as his vision rose up higher and higher until he knew the top of his head matched the top of the fridge. Looking at this he began to become slightly aroused. The refrigerator is like 5' 7" tall. He's grown 5 inches! He's reaching average height! The pain and stretching returned and as Fabian went into automatic denial mode, still spewing no's out of his mouth, he noticed that the top of the fridge was falling away...lower....lower..... The no's faded to silence. He pulled the door open and grabbed a can of soda. It looked so tiny in his hands. Damn near miniscule. He stood there looking, mouth agape, gasping, sputtering, and as he looked back straight ahead he discovered the top of the fridge met him about the height of his chin. He moaned... "Oh, yeeeessssssssss. ... .... ... Oh yes. .... ... ... " It started again. Twig snapping, stretching, fridge top sinking. He felt the cuffs on his sleeves travelling up, further up his arm: to mid forearm, to elbows. He felt the cargo shorts bottom travel from his knees up his thighs. His courier's form fitting, under armor style, unitard, uniform began to stretch and stretch pulling tighter and tighter against his body, pulling his extra fine body hair as it tried to move and travel up Fabian's body like his cargo shorts did. He watched as the top of the fridge eventually became level with his shoulders, like it did with Reid. His groin became warm. His cock inflated a little. He felt the unitard pull tighter and stretch out more from his expanding cock. "Ooooooh yessssssssss." moaned Fabian and he saw the fridge top sink even lower and lower. He felt runs develop in the tight fabric, allowing more air to pass freely to his body. His ankles had snapped the top portion of his shoes that had still desperately tried to cling on. His cargo shorts were binding at the crotch, becoming stretched by his larger, but tight and taut ass. The top of the fridge dropped to his arm pits..... "Ooooh yes... Yes!.... YES!" It shrunk down to his another few inches under the arm pit. His cargo shorts were ripping at the crotch, busting at the waist band, splitting down the seams, while his courier uniform now actually developed true rips and tears in the fabric. And the fridge top went down....down....down.....middle of his abs...... "OOOOh GOD YEAH!" The clothes ripped their last and fell away from Fabian. The top of the refrigerator now only came up to his waist line or maybe down to the belly button. The can in his hand looked the size of a miniature sample cup to him. There was maybe two to three feet left between the top of his head and the ceiling. He felt so good all over... so big...so powerful.... his cock sprung to life and grew and grew and grew to its full length and heft, having kept proportion to his now much larger body. "YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!" He didn't know why he suddenly felt so good about this....but he did. "Fabe? Is that you hollering out here?" Reid came out into the kitchen from his bedroom, wondering what the commotion was all about. Coming through the kitchen door he stopped and froze looking at the giant in front of him. "Oh....my.....gawd....." Reid approached the towering Fabian now. He only came up midway on Fabian's abdominals. Dumstruck, Reid reached out and grabbed the mighty erect schlong quivering and bobbing in front of him. It felt like a baseball bat. Feeling the touch, Fabian looked down and down and down at Reid. Seeing where Reid came up to on him, seeing how his cock looked like the full length of one's of Reid's arms. How Reid's finger might possibly not be able to wrap around it. He saw how his feet were just a few inches shy of covering two floor tiles in the bathroom. "Oh...yes." And suddenly Reid lifted the humongous head of Fabian's cock to his mouth and began to make love to it and suck on it as if there was really going to be no tomorrow. Fabian snapped his head back, placed his feet shoulder width apart, pushing the island counter a bit further to his right, placed his hands on his hips as if in a great super hero pose and moaned loud and deep. "Yessssssssss. YES! YES!" His big bass voice booming across the apartment rattling all the windows, many of the light fixtures, scaring neighbor doors, and causing many folks to bang and tell Reid and Fabian to turn down their t.v. or radio. Reid attempted to reach out and fondle Fabian's balls, but so long was Fabian's cock, that with the head in Reid's mouth, the best that Reid could do was lightly brush them with his fingertips. This only heightened the experience for both men: Reid feeling like he was stroking some small pumpkins with Fabian feeling light, silky, tickling touches on the underside of his scrotum. Several times did Fabian's cock bounce, almost lifting Reid up off the floor. Eventually Fabian pulled his cock away, knocked Reid backwards and around with a swift poke of it into Reid's left shoulder, and then suddenly a pick up by his cock of Reid, thrusting through Reid's legs and underneath his crotch. Reid slid all the way down to the base, his back resting against the hard brick wall abs of Fabian's stomach. With a simple barked order of, "STROKE!", Reid began to take his massive hands and run them up and down the more gargantuan schlong of Fabian. Several times Fabian staggered round the apartment, dancing on curled tip toes as he moaned and groaned to the pleasure Reid was providing him. Eventually Fabian burst through the bathroom door just in time scream in ecstasy, buck his hips as he fell to his knees, his cock swelling that much larger as his melon sized balls pulled in and up into his body and a nearly geyser like gusher of spoo, spooled out of him and shot across the bathroom, hitting the far wall and splattering across the shower wall, the stall, the tub, the curtains, the faucets, everything. Reid turning to look at the sunken Fabian, his mind finally catching up to what has happened to his friend, his lover, he soon joined Fabian in action and shot his biggest load yet to date onto Fabian's abs and chest.
  6. So I started writing this on another site and was convinced to post it here too. It will not be everyone's cup of tea, but hey, I think it's hot! This story will not nearly be as long as my last either, which is fine by me. We'll get to the action much quicker. ************************************************ Chapter 1: Recruited I’ll never forget the first time I met Coach in person. It was February of my senior year of high school and I had just arrived home from my after school workout. As I walked in the door there he was, sitting at my kitchen table, chatting with my parents. I had exchanged a few emails and phone calls with him in the past couple of weeks, but to meet him in person was an especially exciting event. Not just because he was a local celebrity and one of the most sought after young college football coaches in the country, but because of the opportunities he brought with him. But first, let me back up. The previous Fall, I enjoyed a surprisingly successful football season, racking up several accolades and honors. All of a sudden I was soon receiving some recruiting interest from the smaller universities in our region. This was all very surreal to me as never in my life did I think I, Mason Jackson, was good enough to extend my football playing career past high school. Not only did I question my own skill, but I played of the smaller high school in our state, which don’t tend to get the type of exposure needed to get recruited to the bigger schools. Even then, I thought I was too small to play college ball, being only 5 ft 10 but a solid 175 lbs. Granted, I played defensive back, which are always the smallest guys on any football field. The position I play is out in the backfield, which is mostly open space. Primarily, my job is to keep the faster players from the offense from catching passes. So being smaller, faster, quicker and more agile was an advantage for my position compared to the big, lumbering beasts who played at the line of scrimmage. Regardless, thanks to my own high school coaches, my name had gotten out there for the college coaches to review. It was exciting to receive the attention I was getting even though it was mostly from smaller universities. Of course, my parents were thrilled that I now had a chance to attend a school on scholarship. Being a straight A-student, I was already in line for some financial assistance, but a full-ride athletic scholarship was not something I was going to squander. But no offer was more exciting than the one I received for Biltoft University. Bilthoft University was the major college in our area of the state. It was located in a college town about 50 miles from my home. It was a smaller major, private university that was heavily invested in academics. Over the decades it had built up a reputation as being one of the top academic universities outside of the Ivy League. Of course, being our local university, I had grown up following all the Biltoft sports teams, along with the majority of my family and friends. The men's sports teams were known as the Brutes. The Bilthoft Brutes. While most of Brute teams experienced average levels of success, for most of my life the Brute football program had a sad existence. Apparently, the football team was quite good for about a 15-year era in the 60’s and 70’s but then went into a dark period for about three decades. During this time it was common for the team to only win two or three games per year and there were even a couple of winless seasons in that mix. During this period, the university powers-that-be invested very little into the success of the football program. Most of the school's resources were directed o expanding the academic profile of the school. At its heart, being an institute of learning, this certainly wasn't a bad thing and it contributed geatly to the school's academic profile. With this philosphy, Biltoft had even become one of the top universities in the world for its research in particle and quantum physics. So, while no one could really argue that a school shouldn’t spend most of its money on academics, it wasn't being realized that a lot of extra potential revenue was being missed that even a mediocre football program can generate. Revenue that could then be used for both athletic and academic improvements. So, as a result the football program languished for nearly three decades. Since Bilthoft was so heavily focused on academics, many of the football players recruited during this time were, well, nerds as well. Basically the university took in any smart high school football players they could get, regardless of skill level. For three decades the school's mascot was never more ironic. The Brutes, the hulking, muscular mascot betrayed the frail and weak (by college football standards) players on the Brute football team. During this time the university's squad picked up a derisive nickname, the “Bilthoft Boobs.” Although no one knew it at the time, the future of the school would forever change in the late 90’s when it recruited a tall, wiry, hardworking local linebacker named Mitchell Wood. Like most of the school's recruits at that time, young Mitch was virtually unknown. Mitch Wood's main intention was to attend Bilthoft for a biochemistry degree. He was of course, very intelligent, 4.0 GPA, valedictorian of his class you name it. He was a good player in high school, but did nothing that would indicate the star player he would develop into. After his college career, in various interviews Mr. Wood would talk about how most of his success could be traced back to when he really discovered the weight room his freshmen year. As he progressed through his four years at Bilthoft he lifted intensely and developed into one of he best defensive players not only in the school's history, but in the entire country. His startling physical development, combined with his impeccable intelligence, helped him become a beast on and off the football field. He set many of the Brute defensive and weightlifting records and still holds many of those records even to this day. There was even talk that, if he had been on a better football team, he could have been a contender for the Heisman trophy. By his junior year, he had NFL scouts chomping a the bits to draft him. The star Brute player had even led the team to its first bowl game appearance in 21 years. But, alas, halfway through his senior, Mitch Wood was felled by the all to common ACL injury. He still could potentially have rehabbed himself in time for that year's NFL draft and that was his original plan. However, he fell in love with the idea of coaching while sidelined with injury. He elected to forego the draft to the disappointment of many agents and finish out his college career to get his biochemistry degree, which he did that spring. The following year Mitchell Wood took a position at a local high school teaching chemistry and, of course, coaching the school's football team. His impact was immediate. His teams continuously improved and in just a few short years developed a new high school dynasty, even winning multiple state championships. Back at the University, soon after his time at Bilthoft had ended, Mr. Wood's impact was still being felt. Having had one of the the best players on the country leading the team to even moderate success had begun to weigh on the university's board. The younger members of the board began to realize how a successful athletics program can actually compliment the school's academic profile and not hinder it. The new revenue that Mr. Wood helped generate was a catalyst that began to weigh on the minds of the board. It was just a couple of years after Mr. Wood had left that program began to regress again and so the board decided to take action. They fired the football coach in search of a new direction. Of course, still being a relatively low-tier football program, the school knew they would not be able to bring in any high profile coaches. Thus, they decided to take a risk and hired Mitchell Wood, the formal Brute star and high school coaching phenom, to be the new coach at the tender age of 27. Coach Wood was absolutely thrilled to take over the position at his alma-mater and graciously accepted. Much like his high school teams, he quickly turned the Brute football program around. As a man hugely into weightlifting, he immediately revamped the team's strength and conditioning program. He was unusual in college football in that he assumed the shared role of head coach and also strength and conditioning coach. Very soon the brainy jocks on the field began to look bigger, faster, stronger and harder. After a 1-11 season the year before, Coach Wood led his first collegiate team to a 7-5 season and its first bowl game since he played. It was a stunning turnaround for modern college football. In just one year the average weight of a Brute football player increased by a full 25 lbs of solid muscle! It wasn't long before the school lost it's derisive moniker and soon the players were being known as the “Built Brutes”, a fun play on words that perfectly reflected the physiques underneath the Brute jerseys. His second season the team went 9-4, earning the school's first top 25 ranking in four decades. The third season they played for a conference championship and in his fourth season the Brute football program brought back its first conference championship trophy in FIVE decades! His stratospheric rise then led his teams to back-to-back 11-2 season and top 10 rankings. Unsurprisingly, with his meteoric rise to success many of the historic powerhouse football schools clamored to hire him away from Bilthoft. But, every year coach rebuffed their offers, saying he owed everything to the Brutes and that the now 33-year old coach was happy to build a new powerhouse football program, further endearing himself to the Bilthoft institutional family. What was even more surprising regarding the team's success was that Coach Wood kept with the schools proclivity to recruit the most intelligent players to maintain the school's high academic status. With the recent success on the field, the athletic profile of the average Brute recruit rose as well, but Coach had a knack for finding diamonds in the rough. The highly intelligent, but ultimately undeveloped players for which he considered himself to be when we first recruited out of high school. And so, this philosophy led Mitchell Wood to my kitchen table one winter day. He saw me walk into the kitchen and I immediately froze in star-struck awe. Even though I had been exchanging messages with him I had no idea he was coming to my house. He stood up and up and turned to face me and offered his hand in greeting. “It's nice to meet you, Mason.” Other than his celebrity, the man was simply overwhelming. From seeing him on TV I knew he was a big, burly man. But seeing him in person really illustrated that point. He had to be 6 ft 5 in, maybe 6 ft 6 in tall. He must've had a late growth spurt because I thought he was listed as a couple of inches shorter during his playing days. The other thing that astounded me was his muscularity. He was not just big like many ex players, he was still very buff! I knew he was a seriously lifter from researching his history once he started contacting me. I had found out that he had even competed in some amateur bodybuilding contests back when he was just out of college. With some internet digging you can even find a few photos of him flexing up on stage from about a decade ago, looking huge, jacked, tanned and shredded. But now, the man in front of me was even bigger and more powerful than the young man in those photos. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt (the team's colors) with the Brute logo, a “B” with two cartoon biceps flexing on each side, plastered over his overdeveloped chest muscles. The tight blue polo was tucked into tan khaki slacks which were also tight due to his muscled glutes, quads and hamstrings. Not to mention that he seemed to be very well developed in the crotch as well. The man seemed to have it all. He had hugely muscular arms with a pencil thick cephalic vein running over his biceps and vascular forearms. It looked like with one accidental flex he would burst the seams of his polo. He was in fantastic shape. He had the type of build that suggested he could still compete in bodybuilding with just a few weeks of dieting and conditioning. His head was topped off with matching white baseball cap, his signature accessory, also with the Brute logo on the front. Being straight, I still couldn't deny that he was an amazingly handsome man with a rugged visage and chiseled jawline. He had a dark fu-manchu mustache which complimented the deep dark brown sideburns that stretched down from under his hat, framing his face. The fu-manchu added to his intimidating presence, but once he smiled warmly and shook my hand, I saw there was no reason to fear. “Nice to meet you, Mason. I'm Mitchell Wood, but I hope you'll call me 'Coach'”. I shook his huge hand which seemed to swallow up my own. I could feel the scratchy callouses on his palm, no doubt built up from years of gripping the knurling on weightlifting bars. His voice suited him perfectly, it was deep, rumbling and masculine. “It's nice to meet you Mr. Wood,” I began. “I'm a bit surprised you have expressed so much interest in me.” He chuckled down at me and gave me another friendly smile. “I see you are modest too. I have been watching your high school tapes and I am very impressed. You were a special player to your team, a great on-field leader. I fully believe I can help you develop that and that you would be a great asset to our program.” He was very charming too. This guy was the complete package, the perfect man. “Son, I am here to formally offer you a invitation to play for the Bilthoft Brutes.” I committed to play for the Brutes right there on the spot. *********************************************************** Chapter 2: A New Season I was seated in a large room with about 75 of my football playing peers early the following August. It was still three weeks before school officially began but the athletic teams were allowed to move onto campus early for practices. The room was abuzz with excitement as we waited. Finally, the coaches began walking in and stood at the front of the room. Coach Wood, stood front and center wearing what I would soon discover was his trademark outfit. On his feet he was wearing large white sneakers. Even from afar I could tell he had very big feet, I'm guessing at least size 15. The bottoms of his legs were covered with white athletic tube socks. The socks came up to encircle to the largest diameter of his massive, protruding calf muscles. Traveling up from his calves his muscularity and pulchritude became more and more evident. The lower half of his exposed, striated legs were covered by thin dark hair. Above his knees coach's quadriceps exploded outward in relief, the heavy muscle of his thighs so large that they threatened to cover up his kneecaps. This was clearly a man that had focused on squats and deadlifts to build up those tree trunk legs. A few inches higher coach was wearing mid-thigh length khaki shorts. I suspected the reason coach opted for short khakis was as utilitarian as it was aesthetic. The short shorts allowed his massive legs the freedom to move with causing much chafing, but it also gave his adoring fans a chance to ogle some of the beefiest legs you can imagine. Upward still, the legs of the shorts joined at the crotch where a sizable bulge was unmistakable. Coach was certainly a man whose large stature was in proportion everywhere. Above the shorts Coach was in his typical shirt. A tight, light grey, light fabric t-shirt that had “COACH” printed on the front chest in large block letters. His heaving pectorals were so large that the middle of the shirt was sucked into his muscled cleavage, thus slightly distorting the word “COACH”. Hanging just in front of those beefy muscle pillows was Coach's whistle, the noise of which we would soon become well acquainted to. Due to his tremendous bulk, the t-shirt was tight everywhere else too. Well, except at his waist. Our new coach obviously made an effort to keep his bodyfat relatively low. Further up, on the sides of his chest and under his arms his lat muscles pulled the fabric outward whenever he extended his arms or stood with his fists on his hips. Even further up, you couldn't help to be amazed at his arms. We all knew coach was a bodybuilder in his former years and his arms certainly led credence to that fact. They were enormous and sinewy, each with that large cephalic vein prominently sticking out over his unflexed arms. And you certainly couldn't ignore the huge meaty mass of his triceps hanging from the bottom of his arm, adding to his arms' intense size. I longed to see what his arms looked like when flexing. On top of his chest stood his fire-hydrant neck, framed by two huge triangular trapezoid muscles. On top of his neck sat his amazingly handsome, rugged face with his classic fu-manchu mustache and matching side burns. Completing the outfit he wore a white ball cap with a large blue “B” with two flexing arms, the logo for our Brute football program. As we settled down Coach began to speak. “Men, welcome to another year at Bilthoft! I look around this room and I see champions. Some of you may still be champions are in the making, but you all have what it takes to succeed. ARE YOU READY FOR A NEW SEASON!” The room erupted in hoots and hollers from all the players, the room was buzzing with competitive testosterone. The coach raised his hands to silence his players and then went down the line and introduced us all to the various position coaches. In general, each player would only be working with one or two of these position coaches plus the head coach during practices. “Ok boys, head to the locker and suit up for our first practice!” One of the seniors sitting in the front row piped up before anybody moved. “YO, COACH! YOU GOTTA SHOW THE NEW GUYS!” Coach grinned at the senior lineman who had addressed them. “Show them what, Jamal?” “C'mon Coach. Every year you end the first meeting showing us those huge GUNS of yours! It looks like you've been lifting even harder since spring practice ended. IT'S TRADITION, COACH!” Laughs and snickers could be heard throughout the room. Coach and his assistants were chuckling too. It was easy to tell why everybody loved Coach. Off the field he was a very easy going, playful, charming, and endeared himself to almost anybody he met. “Well, Jamal, I upped my caloric intake in the past couple of months and switched my lifting routine around a bit to see if I could put on some more mass. You guys have all been getting bigger so I decided I needed to put on some size too. Need to you keep you fella's in your place, haha.” Coach began bending and unbending his arms at his sides, smirking at Jamal as he spoke. “I've put a solid inch on these pythons, can yo believe that?” “Shit yeah Coach! You are looking monstrous. C'mon show 'em to us. You've got the ball cap with the flexing arms, all us upper-classmen consider your first meeting flex to be the real start to the football season!” Sheepishly, Coach replied, “Well, I don't know, Jamal, maybe we need a new tradition...” The room noise began to grow as the players protested playfully. Coach was toying with us all and we knew it. Catcalls, whistles and claps poured out from the crowd of jacked up young men: “Show us, Coach!” “Let's see it.” “I don't think your arms are any bigger!” “Flex 'em big guy!” Coach chuckled at looked at the ground with his hands on his hips. He loved that his huge powerful body was such a motivator for his players. "Well, boys, let's go suit up and have a great practice. I think this is going to be a special year. Work hard out there on the field, lift hard in the gym, study hard in the classroom and big things will come, and do you know why, boys?... … BECAUSE WE ARE THE BILTHOFT BRUTES!” Coach suddenly raised both arms into a herculean double-biceps pose. The enormous mass of his biceps exploded upward seriously testing the fabric of his tight, grey t-shirt sleeves. The huge hamlike muscles of his triceps simultaneously pulled the shirt downward, filling the tortured sleeves with pounds and pounds of muscle. His biceps were freaky! They looked like they belonged on a champion pro-bodybuilder, the peaks were amazing! The room exploded in a masculine frenzy of cheers as we all admired our colossally buff coach and also hyped ourselves up for our first practice. Coach finally lowered his arms, “OK boys, time for practice!” As we dressed for practice the upper classmen couldn't stop talking about coach. “Holy cow, bro! His arms were HUGE! He's always been jacked but I can't believe he put on even more muscle since we last saw him.” “Shit, bros, I hope he trains us like he trained himself, I would love to put on some more beef too!” I knew Coach was big and buff, but the last time I saw him in person he was in slacks and a polo shirt. Of course, I didn't see him flex when he recruited me so I didn't have much to judge by. I took my teammates at their word that coach was even bigger now. That first week of practice was one of the hardest weeks of my life. Coach worked our asses off. Even though he was so huge and intimidating and could've easily used fear to whip us into shape, he was such a great motivator that the thought of disappointing him was enough to make us give him 110%. Of course, that didn't stop him from yelling like a terrifying beast when he was displeased. But, there was never any threat of physical violence, he truly was like our huge, intense football father out there on the field. In the afternoons we would lift weights with our team unit. That is, for me, I lifted with all the other defensive backs. As coach was the strength coach as well, we was right there with us to teach us proper technique and push us to lift heavier and heavier weights. Since the outdoor practice in the hot summer sun usually left his grey t-shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to his lumpy muscles, he usually changed into a sleeveless shirt for the lifting session. This of course fully exposed those ENORMOUS arms. Once we were done lifting, the seniors again couldn't help egging him on about his huge pythons. Matt, the starting senior safety and captain of the defensive backs, always seemed to be the instigator of our group. “Damn, coach! How big did you get over the summer?” he asked. Coach just laughed at his players. Since the defensive backs were the smallest guys on the team, Coach towered over all of us and was also far more muscular. “Oh, Matt, about the same size, I guess, haha. 6 ft 6, just like always!” Coach teased. “Ah, C'mon coach you know what I mean. How much do you weigh now big man?” Now that our lifting session was over we gathered around to hear Coach out. “Well, Matt, let's go see.” We followed him over to the electronic scale that was in the corner of the weight room. Coach stepped up on it and we all watched the small screen as the numbers were calculated. “Well, little men, it looks like I'm up to 305 pounds!” “DAMN COACH! YOU ARE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Coached just stepped off the scale and looked down at us proudly. “That's what, another 25 lbs since last winter, right?” Matt asked. “Yep, Matt. I told you this new routine has really been helping me grow. It's the same routine I got all you on right now, so I expect the same result from all of you! I want to see all of you put on 25 lbs by the end of the season, GOT IT BOYS?” “YES SIR!” We all shouted in unison. However, Matt still wasn't satisfied. “Hey, Coach one more thing, you said you put a solid inch on those canons, how big are they now?” Coach just chuckled down as his senior captain. “Bigger than yours, Matty. Bigger than yours.” Matt, however, knew just how to play to Coach's competitive side. “Yeah I figured they gotta be like 20 inches or so. I mean, they didn't look very big last winter.” Coach smirked and stepped right up to Matt, who, at 5 ft 11, only came up to Coach's chin. “You think these monsters are only 20's?” “Yeah Coach, can't be that big, haha. Maybe 21s, but surely no more,” Matt grinned back. Coach chuckled and walked over to a bench press station that still had 225 lbs loaded on the bar. He grabbed the bar and quickly performed ten perfect barbell curls and set the bar down. He made it look like he may as well have been curling a broomstick. The peaks up his arms exploded in size as he curled a weight that many of us struggled to bench press, pumping them and filling them with nutrient rich blood. “Hey, Jackson,” Coach turned to look right at me. “Why don't you grab that tape measure hanging by the scale and we'll see how good a judge of size Matt here is.” Since I was closest to the scale, I turned and saw the tape measure that he was referring to hanging on the wall. I grabbed it walked over to Coach. “Why don't we measure Matt's guns here first.” Matt laughed. He was one of those cool, relaxed guys who had virtually no shame so he cheerfully stepped up to the plate. “Sure, Coach, but don't feel sorry when my huge guns make yours look like pipe-cleaners!” I walked up to Matt and he raised his right arm, gritted his teeth and flexed his bicep as hard as he could. I wrapped the tape around his arm, which for his size was quite impressive. I announced the number as 16.5 inches. Certainly not huge, but he had very little fat so it was a solid measurement. Coach patted him on the back. “Not to shabby Matt. Nice job. Ok, Jackson, why don't you do the honors and measure this little pipe-cleaner right here.” Coach stepped up to me and FLEXED his enormous arm right in front of the me. Gasps and whispers emanated from the other defensive backs as we watched the huge lump of muscle surge upward. I froze for a second, partially in fear and partially from awe, before stepping up to Coach with the tape. I placed one end of the tape on the very peak on his biceps and held it with my finger. It felt like pressing on warm granite. His arm was so huge that my hands looked like a toddlers as I wrapped a tape around his arms. I pulled the tape tight and read the result. “Just a hair under 24 inches.” “HOLY SHIT COACH!” Another stunned teammate shouted. “Those are like, pro-bodybuilder size arms! And your arms aren't fat, they're fucking jacked!” Coach dropped his arm and stood up proudly in front his players. “Well, Matt, it looks like you need to do a few more curls before you can match these babies! But, seriously, gentlemen, great lifting session today. Now after you shower make sure you head to cafeteria to refuel your spent muscles, otherwise you won't grow. Then rest up and we'll see you all tomorrow. Great job my little Brutes!” During that first week on campus it also became apparent just how popular Coach was outside of the athletic department. We all knew he was a smart guy and he could often be seen eating lunch with the scientists in the physics laboratory. It was quite a site to see, this huge, herculean man eating lunch with short, skinny, nerdy looking scientists. And they genuinely all got along. One time when I was in physics lab I overheard him speaking with this scientist friends and he was able to converse with them even at their own level of quantum physics technobabble, language that went right over my head. At that moment it really sank in just how intelligent Coach really was. About a week before our first game something happened on campus that would forever change the dynamic of Bilthoft University. School had just started and so campus was now full of students. While I was sleeping in my dorm on Monday morning my room suddenly rattled. At first I thought it was an earthquake but then I remembered those are quite rare here in the midwest. About 15 minutes later my phone buzzed with an automatic text message from the university: [Students. There has been a minor explosion at the physics lab. The University is still investigating but thankfully we do not believe there have been any major injuries. Please stay away from the physics lab as we continue to investigate and clean up.] Of course, as soon as I read this I ran outside, as did most of my dorm mates, and walked over the physics building. The campus police had already ran some yellow tape around the building and were keeping us all at a safe distance. We could see there seemed to be a small blowout of one of the outer brick walls and fireman were milling about. We soon realized that, as the message had stated, it seemed like true disaster had been diverted. That afternoon I received another automatic text message from the football coach's account, telling us to meet in the team meeting room before practice today. The team filled in the small auditorium, wondering what the occasion might be. The offensive coordinator, Assistant coach Harvey, an older 45 year old man, walked into the middle of the room. We were all wondering where the head coach was. “Gentlemen, I have some unfortunate news. Now, before I set you in panic, know that Coach Wood is doing well. Unfortunately, he was in the physic lab this morning when the explosion occurred. I don't have all the details, but the scientists and the doctors have been monitoring his condition as a precaution. I have been told that there is no reason to worry at this point. As such he will not be at practice today. I will be leading practice. I want you all to work harder than ever had to make Coach proud when he hopefully returns tomorrow.” All the players took that to heart and we really did try our best at practice. But, there certainly was a bit of somberness among the entire team. We couldn't help but feel at least a little bit worried about our beloved Coach's condition. Of course, for the rest of the day, the local news media was all over the story and had gotten wind that coach was involved. As the speculation ran rampant, it certainly didn't help with our anxieties. The following day my roommate, also on the football team as a wide receiver, and I went to class still wondering about the fate of our coach. Later in the morning we received another team message: [Practice will begin at it's normal time. Coach Wood is doing well and will be in attendance] Instantly we all felt better and looked forward to having Coach back on the field with us. No doubt we were all curious as to just what happened in the physics lab, as the details from the local news was still spotty. Later that afternoon the team had gathered in the locker room to change into our practice gear. I was chatting happily with my defensive back buddies, talking about how we couldn't wait to see Coach. We were speculating if we was even going to be able to participate or if he was just going to watch while he recovered from his injuries. Facing my locker, I had just pulled up my jockstrap and football pants when the locker room grew quiet. Suddenly I felt a large presence near me. This was not uncommon, as many of the guys on the team were in excess of 6 ft 5 and 300 lbs, but this felt different. I turned to look at my locker neighbor, Derrick, “Yo, Derrick, why is everyone so quite all of a sudden?” I glanced at his face a saw his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, staring upward at something behind me. I slowly turned around and saw one of the most incredible sights of my life. There was Coach, standing a couple of feet behind me, in the middle of the locker room. He had his hands on his hips, with his elbows flared out in that quintessential superman pose. Coach was...big. I mean, even bigger than he was before. WAY BIGGER. I now understood why the room was silent. Coach allowed us all to take him in...and there was A LOT to take in. He had a cocky smirk on his face as he looked out around the locker room and saw all his players staring way up at him. Since he was standing right near me I took note of the true size of this man. I was standing straight up and noticed that my eyes were just about even with the waistband of his khaki shorts! Coach has GROWN! That meant that his legs alone were now almost as tall as I was! And Coach had of course retained his immense musculature. At his new size he probably now had more muscle in one of these meaty thighs than my entire body! My eyes followed his torso upward. He was wearing his typical tight coach shirt, tucked into the relatively small waistband on his coach shorts. From my vantage point down below I could actually see the underside of his heaving, fabric covered pectorals. His flared elbows and monstrous arms we now well above my head as well. I actually had to step back just slightly to see his face, which at close range was obscured by his muscled chest. Finally my eyes gazed upon his ruggedly handsome face and ballcap covered head. I noticed his head was right near the light fixture hanging from the high ceiling. He was a towering colossus of dense muscle. Being this close to him I had never felt so small in my life. A shocked murmer began to roll through the locker room as the players began to regain their speech functions. I heard several shocked phrases from my teammates: “Holy Shit!” “He's fucking HUGE!” “Look at the size of his arms! His chest is massive!” Finally Coach spoke, “Gentlemen, once you are dressed, please meet me in the auditorium for a quick team meeting!” With his new size his already deep rumbling voice was even lower. You could practically feel his voice vibrating in your chest. After he spoke he slowly turned and sauntered out of the locker room, having to hunch over to exit out the 8 ft tall doors, leaving his stunned team behind to finish dressing. Once he was gone Derrick and I shared a look. He spoke first, “Holy shit, Bro! Coach was already a big guy, now he's a GIANT!” The entire team quickly dressed and we made our way into the team meeting room. Coach was standing up front, dwarfing the assistant coaches. One we had all filed in coach spoke up. “Gentlemen, as you know, yesterday there was incident at the physics lab. Dr. Martin, the quantum physics researcher was showing me around the lab when we both heard a lout explosion. The next thing I know this weird green energy beam is blasting me right in the chest and rubble is all around me. Dr. Martin thankfully was able to quickly shut off the energy beam generator. Dr. Martin and the fireman rushed me to the hospital just to make sure I was ok while the fire department cleaned up the destruction. While at the hospital it became apparently that my clothes and I were, well, growing. Once my growth had stabilized the docs checked me out and allowed me to head home. Dr. Martin is going to continue to monitor me to make sure there are no adverse reactions to the that quantum laser beam that blasted me so there is no reason for further worry. Men, I am still your Coach, I'm just a bit bigger now.” One of the senior lineman couldn't resist replying. “A bit bigger, Coach? You are a GIANT!” The room erupted in laughter, and the coach just smiled handsomely. “How tall are you now?” “Haha, you lineman are always so obsessed with stats. Well, little men, as of last night your big coach was measured at 9 ft 10 in tall!” Coach proudly puffed up with massive chest as he announced his new stat. He obviously was enjoying his new stature as much as we were. The lineman couldn't contain his awe. “DAMN COACH! You gotta show us, Coach.” “Show you what?” Coach cockily grinned. The lineman replied, “C'mon Coach! You know what we want to see. Especially at your new size. Let's see 'em!” My teammates were now hooting and hollering up to our leader, showering him with encouragement. The giant man at the front of the room gave us a sheepishly look. “Alright men, let's go out there and have a great practice today. Work your little asses off, give me everything you've got. WE ARE THE BILTHOFF BRUTES!” Coach quickly brought up with arms into the most gargantuam double-biceps pose in the world. The sleeves of his strained shirt retreated upwards into the gap between the peaks of the muscle and his boulder like deltoids. At his new size his there was no doubt he had the biggest, buffest arms on the planet. We knew it was going to be a great practice. ************************************************ Hope you like!
  7. FREaky

    Muscle Sighting by F_R_Eaky

    Muscle Sighting by F_R_Eaky The whirring of a computer, the green light on the camera comes on... ... .... "Ok...recording this so I have something juicy to tell all my bois back home. So I started my freshman year here at this college at an odd time, the summer semester, but DAMN! What a hot way to start and I ain't talkin' 'bout the weather. Well, I am, but I'm not. I'm talking about the guys and how they dress for the weather: in shorts and usually no tops. It's a good thing I'm not majorly hung or everyone would know what I'm packing nearly twenty-four and seven. "Anyhow although there are tons of hot Hot HOT HAWT! guys here with various sized bodies from thin mints to chocolate chunks or rocky roads, I've just got to tell you about one guy I saw. He's not the biggest dude I've ever seen. He's kind of tall, 6' 1" probably, like only two-three inches taller than me. He's slim, but kind of has a swimmers build you can just see some pumps and plumps from under his shirt and pants, and his feet look kind of big as well. Just enough when moves or bends it reveals some shapes as his shirt or pants pull tight. So truthfully not a body to write home about, but his face....oh my gawd, his face. ... ... ... "He's like a model, but not. He has that perfect combination of a square and round head, like very square at the jaw line, but completely round, ball like if he shaved his head. Strong chin, high cheek bones, and he's sporting about a two day scruff of beard. His lips are full and pillow like, but not overly thick or wide so that they look inflated, just handsomely soft so you really imagine that you want to kiss him. Nice straight arrow shaped nose, a good medium width to the bridge, right between his eyes... ... ... Good gawd those eyes...sharp, bright, in showing off quickness, intelligence, observation, but deep in their color and mesmerizing to behold. I could stare into them for hours. ... ... ... "Anyway those eyes are topped with thick feathery eyebrows that are still perfectly shaped over his brow and all of his face is framed by this thick mane of hair that hangs just above his shoulder and in a devil-may-care, wind-blown kind of style that makes one just beg to run his fingers through. Fuuuuuuck... I'm poppin' a woody just describing him, thinking about those eyes. ... ... ... "Augh... (low whistle)... so... where was I? Oh yeah, so I ran into this guy coming out of the Bursar's office. I guess he was finishing paying off for his degree or probably registering and all for his masters. I assume it's his masters as he looks to be about mid to late twenties. I was going in the wrong way as he was coming out. We blocked each other's path, I looked up at his face, the moment hung there for a bit, we both chuckled, he said, "Excuse me" - in this wonderful low baritone voice, and I stepped aside allowing him through. I should've given him my name, my number, something because I can't stop thinking about him, but...I'm a little stick twink; I'm sure he wouldn't give me the time of day. Anyhow... I'm gonna take care of this boner." ************************************************************************* "Holy shit... ok so you'll never guess who I ran into today... ... ... again! Yeah, Mr. perfect I described to you a couple of days ago. It must have been poor lighting in the Bursar's Office, but much brighter and clearer in this lil' bistro, because he is looking finer than I remember. His face is still as gorgeous as I described it, but the body I don't think I described correctly. First off he is tall... well just that beginning side of tall, you know what the tall men's' clubs start at around 6' 2 - 3". He's right at that point where you begin to look at a man and say, 'Damn, he's tall.' I imagine his feet are the same, can't see much through the sneakers, but his hands look pretty big and mitt like, and usually feet match hands so... ... .. "But he has an athlete's body. Like a European football or soccer player? You know just enough that his clothes show some peaks and valleys. Enough for his pecs to have that crescent shape and if he ran you could see a little bounce to them. Arms that almost fill the sleeve cuffs to full, with enough back and shoulders to stretch his shirt a lil' bit. He's tight enough around the waist that his shirt hangs all baggy there, with his belt and pants' waist band pulled in tight just below what has got to be a smooth six pack. You know, the kind that just has the slightest traces of all of his abs and oblique muscles. "And then he's got the tightest, compact, lil' bubble butt. When he's still it's like not much to look at, but when he moves... oh... you can see the pop and bulge and a rock back and forth in his jeans. You know he's firm enough to grab on to. Likewise his thighs and calves. You know he's got some size, and you just kind of hope his pants get wet so you can see their shape. ... ... ... Who am I kidding? You kind of hope all of him gets wet just to see the fabric cling, or him take it all off to dry. ... ... ... Speaking of wet...I need to take care of something." ****************************************************************************** "Oh man oh man oh man oh man... ... ... ... fuck-fuck fuck-fuck fuck Fuck FUCK! ... ... ... "Ok.... so I ran into HIM again. I've got to tell you, some places must have some serious piss-poor lighting or something, because I just don't know how the hell I missed all of this before. He looked so much smaller a week or so ago. So, I'm walking into the post office when coming out the outside next to me is THAT guy...and man is he big. I mean he attracts some serious attention, especially from my cock. whew.... "So I don't know how but I miss judged his height. Seeing him come through the doorway the guy has to be at least pushing the 6' 5 - 6'6" range. There was like only two to three inches of room between his head and the top of the door frame. And his body.... oh my gawd his body... "He is jacked. His muscles are popping when moving and flexed, large but sleek when relaxed. He has got some size and good definition. His shirt was at least one size too small: shoulders and back stretching it out, add the chest and it's pulling his collar wider open than it should be for a polo. Two really thick crescents are stretching the front of the shirt with clear nipple poke-age. They are large enough I know he's got to be able to bounce them. Like John Cena in that Hefty commercial. Lord I want to just scream 'Hefty! Hefty! Hefty!' at him. His arms are not only a descent shape and size, but they've got that run going... that vein that travels from back of hand, around the forearm, up and across the bicep and into the delts. And his arms flair out a lil' bit due to his lats which are just spreading out and attached to his tight waist that has some definitely defined abs. I know because his shirt hem was riding just above the waist band of his pants. As he walked and his shirt pulled you could see the bottom of his abs... ... ... and the top of a lil' love trail that leads to.... I don't know but if hands and feet were actually the kind of hinting clue the ladies say they are, he'd have himself a goodly sized member - both length and girth wise. "Hmmmmm so any way...His ass is gripping his jeans. There is no doubt you could bounce quarters off those two mounds, and his thighs only make his bubbled butt more pronounced as their biceps belly comes out and then cuts back in to make an awesome valley between butt cheek and thigh top. And his calves fill the bottom of the jeans leg almost so the fabric doesn't move when he walks. It also didn't help that his pants hem only came down to about an inch above his ankle. Which is fine because it gave me a good look at his shoes. Brand new sneakers - I mean totally brand new and they go about two inches beyond a floor tile length. "I don't know how I've missed it all this time. I mean how tall he is and how jacked his body is. It's like personal trainer kind of build, ya know. Hmmmmmm gawd, how I'd love to lift his bar. I'm gonna have to remember to have my cell phone out and handy so I can take pictures of him to send my friends. They will never believe me." ****************************************************************************** "Home late today. Traffic jam due to an accident and it had the highway blocked on all lanes one way. Construction has the next three exits in front of me, between me and the wreck, and the last four exits behind me closed off, so we're all sitting here on a hot, summer afternoon, doing our best impersonation of a used car lot. Most of us have got our cars turned off to save on gas and overheating, and you will never guess who is the car spot just in front of me and to my left... ... ... Mr. Fuck-me Tallman model that I last saw about three weeks ago. You know, that guy I've been recording about so far all summer. He was there waiting, on a motorcycle, and I have to tell you, holy shit don't things look better in the natural light of the sun than indoors. "So this guy is beyond trainer size, let me tell you. He's more like a wrestler's build, that notch just below an amateur bodybuilder, and let me tell you my eyes are watching him and my mind is screaming in my head, 'Lllllllllet's get ready to TUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLE!' It was just everything I could do not to unzip my pants, whip out my cock, and start going to town right there. "We'd been waiting for about fifteen minutes and it's around 85 degrees Fahrenheit or 29.5 Celsius, so 'Mr. Big' decides to stop straddling his motorcycle - he looked like he was beginning to dwarf the thing- and he starts stripping. First he peels off his shirt, then he shucks his pants, hopping, twisting, and bending around as he tries to get his massive feet and shoes out of the pants leg as he pulls the pants off. Then he bends over to stuff the clothes in a saddle bag and then stands there for a moment wondering what he's going to do. "As he's pondering, a couple of guys walk by him and he is dwarfing them, really seriously making them look small. Like those men only come up to just the top side of 'Mr. Big's' shoulder, so he's at least a foot taller than them. As the guys walk by my car, I recognize one of them from one of my classes - he's as tall as I am. That means 'Mr. Big' there is fuckin' basketball height material. He's got to be at least 6' 10" tall. "So then he's pacing a lil' bit, and did I mention what he was wearing? He's in a white tank top, which due to his sweating is now wet and clinging to him like saran-wrap, and then he has on a pair of red undergear compression shorts. Holy fuck! It's like almost nothing was left to the imagination!... And good gawd his arms. First off because of his lats which were thick, long, and wide, looking a little like a cobra hood, was pushing his arms up and up away from the body. Second because of the size of his arms: full, meaty, round....they were just pushed up and out. At rest they didn't hang parallel to his torso, to his body, they hung out at an angle from it. And his forearms were thick and hard and covered in the same noticeable veins that traveled across his bi and triceps. If it weren't for the fact that his whole body and upper arms were built equally proportioned with his forearms, he'd look like Popeye the Sailor Man cartoon. "And his chest.... when he breathes is just heaves.... it just swells out there and out there. It looks like it's fucking inflating, but it's rubbery like balloons, it's two solid hard globes that are stretching his tank top top into practically nothing. I mean he nearly ought to be just wearing a tube of fabric around his abs held up with his shoulders by two pieces of string. Ohhhh his shoulders... Every time he got a little uncomfortable he'd roll them with his arms and they just rose and mounded into his next. It was like watching the rise and fall of The Rockies when they were being formed. "But then he'd turn around and his tank top plastered onto him via his sweat like it was paper mache revealed this six pack of abs, each one a perfect bubble rock hard, popping....flexing....rolling.... every time he twisted or bent his torso..... and going around the sides to his back, his obliques were just as defined... all those crevices....all those little mounds packed together.... glistening....like dollar rolls coming out of the over....just want to taste them..... "But then maybe I'd rather bite into his ass. Two rather thick and hard bubbles you want to bite into like an good crisp apple. They move with mesmerizing action with the thighs and hamstring. Oh... the bulge of those thigh biceps whenever he would loosen up by squatting down and standing back up... with a hamstring so taut, so strong I'm certain it could rip his under armor compression shorts straight up the back if snapped. Then he turns around and I can see all those tear drop shapes, like his leg is made up of melting wax or something.... one... two....three.... four huge droplet shapes rolling and bunching on each leg, except one leg.... one leg you couldn't quite see that... "That's because Mr. Big really is Mr. Big! Oh fuck. The man is not just tall, not just jacked and swole, he's hung too. I mean this is a cock of billy-club like proportions. His compression shorts in this case don't compress. They hide nothing of the man's sweet rod. It's there, long, thick, like taking up half his thigh length, and the shadows let everyone know it's veiny and it's uncut. It needs to barrel out a little as well from the crotch area because he's got some serious balls, too. I mean really, if I sucked him off, I think I would actually have a full stomach. "Then when he faced away from me and either squatted or got back on his bike and straddled it one could clearly see his calves pop and throb... huge...heart shaped....that seemed to nearly pump with a rhythm large enough I swear I want them for upper arm size. With his veins it looked like to sacks of pythons squirming and writhing. I wanted to just get out and cup them, hold them, marvel at them, lay down at his feet and worship him. "Oh and I wish we were at the beach and not on the damned highway. Part of the only reason why the calves looked somewhat proportional on him was because his feet looked so damn huge, and I mean really huge. If he had on the usual maximum size sold at the stores, they're way too small. I could see the outline of his toes up front, and sides were being pushed out and down by the width of his feet, while the hole to put his foot in looked like it was tied on to cut off blood circulation. The mouth of the shoe nearly made his ankle muffin top over it. I'm even thinking I may have seen some side splittage. He's got to be a size somewhere around eighteen or twenty? "I sat there watching him for so long... then he sat up like he felt something... like he knew he was being watched. He then stared directly at my car, but I just before picked up my phone and pretended to talk, while shifting my head to root through my briefcase, sifting through files. I don't think he noticed me or that I had been watching him. ooooooh.... "Anyway... I'm going to sign off now... I have a really big wet spot to clean up...." ****************************************************************************** "Ok.... it's just a week before the fall semester starts. I don't know how often I'll be able to send out hunky guy reports once classes begin...but I have got to do this last one for the summer. So I'm in the grocery store getting the last of my food for the month, when I turn the corner to go down an aisle and I am behind... ... ... HIM!.... Oh... my gawd! HIM! Mr. fucking super jacked model that when I first saw him was only seeing him as this kind of short-tall, you know 6'1" - 6' 2", lanky build or so... but he's a fuckin' giant! He's like the hulk! He definitely should be doing some amateur to professional bodybuilding he's just that huge. "His shoulders are so broad and mounding so high, along with his bowling ball like delts, and his back, I swear he was nearly as broad as the whole aisle was wide. His arms flared out from his body and like at forty-five degree angles because his arms were just so massively thick -like the size of my waist!- and his lats were just so spread out....we should call him 'wingman!'. I mean he looks like he's one of those guys in a paraglider suit full open. But he wasn't in a full suit... in fact he was barely in his clothes. He was wearing a shirt I think I saw him in before, but how or why I don't recall it, is a mystery because I shouldn't have forgotten it. It's like he's almost wearing a cropped muscle tank top, but it's a regular shirt, but it had to be one from his junior high school days that he wears to work out in or something because it's just so small and tight on him. The sleeves damn ride up to the middle of his delts. There's a slight tear in the front from the middle of the collar down and the rest of the shirt just hugs, no...damn near conforms to the shape and size of his massive pecs. Auuugh! I mean this guy really can't see his feet his chest is so big. "Oh and those feet should be able to be seen. He was wearing some kind of repaired and home lengthened flip flops that his feet still were too big for and those feet were well beyond a floor tile length...and damn near width. Even with the flip flops on, his feet gave a mighty and low slap-thud as he walked. "But he didn't walk, he waddled. But not an elderly waddle or a gangly waddle... a bodybuilders gait and waddle... you know legs so impressively thick they have to kick them out and roll from the side to walk because there's no space between their thighs. Which along with his very meaty calves were clearly seen as he was wearing a pair of cut off jeans that looked like they too were made from old clothes the really didn't fit him anymore. Oh the quiver and shake of his leg muscles. How they bunched and scrunched, swelled and popped, all these loosey-goosey quivering motions of so many plump and full muscles, but when he suddenly stood still and would accidentally flex a leg.... BAM! Every one of his leg muscles became frozen in time, rock hard, popping is size, sunken in with definition like he was a marble statue of Hercules. "And that ass.... holy fuck! that aaaasssssss.... ... ... If I grabbed a hold of it, just one butt cheek would feel like a fifteen pound bowling ball in my hand. Forget quarters I could've bounced can goods off this man's ass and he'd never have felt a thing. "Then that mighty fine ass curves into his waits... so fucking tight and taut... ... ... every single fucking oblique and abdomen muscle is full, swole, hard, and yet tight and defined as hell. It looks like a brick wall one wants to climb on, while I just want to spend hours, a day!- tracing each and every brick by running one finger through each crevice. "And of course I'd have to go down those crevices...down... down....down.... Oh... to be stopped by that waistband of his, which even as trim and tight as his abs were they were still threatening to pop the button. He's just so tall and big the shorts have gotta be from some time earlier in his life. And if his abs don't destroy the waistband, then his cock - ughmmmmnnn! - his cock is going to burst the zipper, ripping its teeth apart. There was such a bulge on him, I swear it would enter a room before he does. How the hell he isn't dying in pain from the amount of racking those shorts and his thighs had to be doing to his balls, with the long, thick, heavy cock pushing down on them, is beyond me. I mean seriously... I wonder if he passes out as soon as his cock becomes erect. "And then again his height... towering over the grocery store shelves. One of the college jocks walked into the aisle, approaching him from the front and nearly wet his pants upon seeing him. He looked so in awe so in terror of this guy, and then has a look as if to say 'Crap... I am not a man. This guy could take men down in seconds.' And I know who that jock was... not personally, just know him because his on our football team and I keep track of the cute players. Any how this guy is six foot tall and he clearly only just comes up to just over Mr. Big's shoulders. Like right in between his shoulders and his chin. That guy just looked like an adolescent next to the guy I've been running into all summer. Mr. Big nearly looked like he was pushing a toy cart from Lil' Tykes. If he ever steps onto the Mr. Olympia sta..." KABOOM! "Holy shit! I think someone just broke into my apart..." "WHERE ARE YOU?!?" WHAM "AAAAAAUGH!" "There you are, you freak!" "You just kicked in my door!" "No I just slammed my fists onto it. Take a look at me.... TAKE A LOOK AT ME!" "Ye....yeah....yeah you're a giant guy, fucking professional bodybuilder kind of build, and probably strength and....and...good lord you're hung! Why is you shirt open? How is your shirt open?" "Because you made me grow!" "What?" "YOU MADE ME GROW! I'm standing there trying to move as gingerly as possible so as not to tear any of my clothing and suddenly my feet are popping the toe holds of my overly repaired flip flops, my chest expands ripping the front of this shirt straight down in a second, my butt rips out the bottom of these shorts, which were jeans that I had to cut because they became far too tight for my thighs, and my cock and balls have now grown large enough to bust the zipper on the front, not to mention I'm too tall now that even with a trim waist I've popped the button on the waistband!" "B...bu....bu...but I just saw you in the grocery story, things were..." "Yeah that's right you saw me in the grocery story. I was seven fucking feet tall then, but when I got home and had my car unloaded, suddenly I shot up - and out- again. I'm now like 7' 2" or something and you fucking did it to me!" "H...ho...how... how...how.... could I have done this to you?" "I don't know how! But you have to stop it! I've been growing all summer...and growing....and growing....and growing! At the beginning I was only 6' 1" tall! But then.... then I ran into you. Oh, I didn't know or realize at first it was you... I had suspicions... thoughts... after I ran into you in the bistro. I at first shrugged it off and tried not to look a gift horse in the mouth... being a little taller and bit heftier, stronger, more hung... what guy wouldn't like that? But then I grew again after my last trip to the post office, and I realized, I had walked by you on my way out. Suddenly I'm becoming this giant of a man... nothing is fitting anymore. I've got to go by cheap replacements for my clothes so I have something to wear, but I couldn't, why? Because one the rack clothing stops at around the 6'6" range for height and about twenty inches of chest or thigh measurements. I finally found something in the athletics department, while I'm being hounded by school officials wanting to know if I can play on the teams and the disappointed looks when they find out I'm a returning grad student. ... "Then.... then I saw you on the highway. Don't deny it! I knew it was you even though you thought pretending you were on a phone call and riffling through papers would make me not notice you or stop whatever this sick game you're playing is. I get home, park my bike and then suddenly I'm swelling... I'm growing....I'm expanding.... I run to the bathroom mirror just in time to see my eyes, nose, and mouth disappear from my reflection and then watch as my clothes burst off of me and my cock suddenly oozes out more and more from my groin like it was a tube of play-doh being pushed out through one of those factory sets that squeeze the dough out! "And now again today.... I've barely got a stitch of clothing I can wear.... I manage to get myself just decent enough to be able to go shopping for food. Less money to buy new clothes with because my appetite has fucking doubled....Tripled....QUADRUPLED....QUINTUPLED! Fucking quintupled because my height and all this fucking mass of muscle!" "I...I....I.... I...I'm sorry, man.... I'm sorry... I had no idea... I'm not trying to do this to you on purpo..." "YES YOU ARE, YOU FUCKING PERVERT! .... That's what this was all about wasn't it? Some kind of big man fetish. Some kind of uber man who's excessively tall, strong, and hung like a bull." "N...no...n..n...no...NO! It's not like that! I didn't even know..." "SHUT UP! You made me.... you're going to get your fantasy....because I sure as hell am going to get my jollies at least once, somehow....someway.... with what you did to me. Maybe if I have you, you won't be able to make me grow anymore, so get ready. You made me a demi-god, and thus the demi-god is going to pound a twink into oblivion!" "What? AUuuuuuuuugh! Fuck, you just like single handedly tossed me on the be....OOOOOFF! I can't breathe with my face buried into the mattress... I need to sit up straaaa HEY! MY PANTS! MY UNDERWEAR! You can't go ripping..." "Ripping just them off? No of course not..." SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRIIIIIIIIIT! "MY SHIRT! You tore off my..." "And let's just make this look good, shall we? Because who the hell really think it looks awesome for a man to make love or to be fucked in his socks!" "OW MY ANKLE! MY LEEEEEG...." "And now back down on the bed, face down." "Huhh...no...no no no NONONONONO!" "You're flailing against my arm isn't going to do you any good. I'm like a foot and half taller than you, I outweigh you now by probably 330 pounds or so, so just.... stay.... down!" "AUUUUGH!" "The nice thing is....exuding all this power.... makes me so horny....makes my rod reach full erection in like a matter of seconds....." "uuuuuuugh..." "Yeah you feel that? The large kind of ball thing touching your ass and hole. Yeah that's my cock fully erect. And in.... it..... GOES!" "AUUUUUUGH!.....oh..... ahh...." "Hmmmmm fuck yeah....tighter than seran wrap you are....." "Oooooh....." "Hopefully you're deep as WELL!" "fu-UUUUUCK! fuuuuuuuuuuuck....oh shiiiiiit...." "How do you like your fantasy master piece now, you fucking prick?" "uuuh....sooo....big..." "what?" "It's so fucking big... it's just so huge..." "Yeah that's right it is one might fucking ro-OD!" "Hmmm so...so damn thick..." "STOP! Stop that. SHUT UP! Not another w-ORD!" "Hmmmmmmmng....shit! oh....oh...shit..... it's so fucking huge..." "Stop saying that. Why must it be so hu-UGE!" "Because you're so fucking big!" "What no don't say HMMMMMNNNNERRRRRR" "OOOOH FUCK! Getting larger inside of me..... you're fucking hulking out while in me..." "HMMMMMMNNNNN N...N...N...NO NO MUSTN'T SAY TH-HAAAAAAT!" "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh..... so...big....too big..... can't take any more in...in....inSIDE ME! oooh..... becoming so muscular.... can feel the springs giving way in my bed, mattress sinking, flattening over your mass and height...." "STOP! STOOOOOOOOOOP!" creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek....SNAP! CRASH! "Oh...OH! The bed is breaking..... ooooOOOOOOOOO OH! Auch...you're ripping my ass.....If only....if only you could make me grow....." "Hmmmmmmnrgfffff Like.... I.... know....how to.....to.....to do.... that. Just shut up... never describe me... " "But you're...." "SHUT UP!" "OH!.....gawd..... if only it could be like a fantasy.... your cum....makes me grow...." "Well you better grow as large as me, because now, I'm never going to find some-hoo-one....uh huhuhuh.... someone who HOO hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo c..c..cc...cc...cc....can..can...can. CAN....can take me!" "I would UUUGH....love that." "Yeah?....then huh huh huh oooh gawd that feels so.....huh huh huh huh then love.... ooooohhhhhguh.....Love..... aaaaaahhhh huh huh huh huh huh...love...THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!" ************************************************************************ The whirring of a computer, the green light on the camera comes on... ... .... "....ok....muscle growth forum dot com.....name...password... enter.... click here.... click there and.....Alright guys, you are never going to believe this, but have I got news and pictures for you. I just got through working out at the college gym and when I was done and shucking my clothes to take a shower, out of the shower comes these two giant fucking hulks. They've got to be brothers because how else on earth can you have two fucking men so built so huge and so tall. I kid you not... the doorway space... completely blocked by just their feet to their shoulders. I mean they had to really dip to get under the doorway. Not just dip, but dip and twist. Their chest, forget about their shoulders which are huge, but just their chests were wider than the door way. They were so covered in muscle I think they'd make the hulk look small. All this bulging and popping and swelling and rising, covered in criss-crossing line of striation and river like networks of large veins, deep cuts and crevices of definition, muscles so swole you think if you pin prick one they'd pop like a water balloon. Their hands look like they could palm and crush a basketball. Their feet went over I think a couple of tiles. And then they bumped into one another coming through the doorway and had to catch themselves and they accidentally dropped the towels covering them and holy shit! Can we say hung?!? I mean if they were any taller, I could grab their cock and ride it back and forth like a swing. "Any rate.... they're so friggin big, I almost couldn't get pictures of them with my android... they make Lou Ferrigno look like a child... they could be the people to play the Hulk in a live action version of The Hulk. I mean I'm telling you.... ..... ....."
  8. Happy Father's Day by F_R_Eaky Chapter Three: A Keg & A Six Pack for Father's Day. Chapter one: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12542-happy-fathers-day-by-f_r_eaky/ Chapter two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12560-happy-fathers-day-chapter-2-by-f_r_eaky/ The phone rings. Oisin reaches out to pick it up and instead sends it flying off the end of the table. Cursing, he picks the phone up off the floor staring at his arms and hands in disbelief; he's been fumbling and tripping and knocking things over all day yesterday, and this morning is only mildly better. He has this thought, sensation that he's taller, bigger, stronger, but not by much. Something around four inches taller or so, although his feet and hands have gotten much larger and his build has become a bit beefier. Seeing his reflection in the glass of his cupboards, he's distracted from the act of answering the phone, absentmindedly setting back down on the table. He's in just pajama bottoms although they are riding slightly high on his legs, still comfortably snug. He is shirtless as the pajama top felt a bit off...tight?...confining? He turns sideways and looks at his reflection. He does his best attempt at a side chest pose. Then he faces straight on and attempts to put his arms straight down, but they're being held up by his back or is that lats? He has lats? "Have I gotten more muscular?" he thought to himself. "I don't recall being this built before?" Running his left hand over his pec, he inhales a quick breath as his fingers glance over his nipple, and then they continue down...down...down... his waist. No six-pack, but still slim, taut, and solid. His toes are being tickled and he realizes his feet are extended past the tiled area onto the carpeted. He wonders at this and backs his heel to beginning of a tile and sees his foot is the exact same length as the floor tile. Suddenly a rush is felt through his body. His groin is feeling very hot and his cock and balls are beginning to feel more and more cramped inside his briefs and his pajama bottoms. In a matter of moments he is looking down and staring wide-eyed at the decent sized tent his pajama pants are producing. The ringing of his phone again wakes him up to real life and he bends down to retrieve it and answer. "Uhm....Hello?" "Uhmmm Hi. This Lorcan Kiley. I'm trying to reach Oisin Shanahan...." "Oi... hi, Lorcan. This is him. How are you? Still planning to come over today?" "Yes, but I have a question for you." "I may have an answer. What is it?" "Well.... I don't want to seem presumptuous or cheeky, but.... I met this guy yesterday, not that I'm wanting to cancel, and he's not boyfriend material or anything... He's about your age, all alone in the world too, and well... ... .... He had a guy set him up for a supposed romantic date yesterday only to leave a note saying he was an ancient leprechaun and not worth dating." "No, he did not." Oisin gasped. "Aye. Not only that, but he and a bunch of his friends had hung back to watch when he read the note, then laughed at him and sped off in their car." "So you were thinking he might need a bit of a pick me up." "Aye. I told him I was coming over to your place today, but I didn't say he could come along, but I wondered... Two sonless guys and a fatherless young man, all single, no family...might be better with three to make the time go by ignoring all the father's day celebrations." "I appreciate the call, and I don't mind. Invite him over. Wasn't making anything fancy. Shepherd's Pie to be exact. I can just break out a larger cooking dish after I pop round the corner to get some more meat and veg." "Deadly. I'll call him and let him know." "Alright. See you two around one. Slán." " Slán." ************************************************************************** The phones rings. Cian opens his eyes and immediately shuts them, pretty sure that someone has instantly jammed needles into them. Groaning he opens his eyes a second time and watches as the room spins and rocks back and forth a bit; his vertigo is not acting correctly. He feels the ring of the phone pierce his ears more than he hears it. He stands up and tries to walk but he wobbles a bit. "My legs feel like rubber.... why are my thighs rubbing together so much? I can't walk straight." Cian thinks to himself. Stepping over huge piles of clothes he fumbles his way to the living room where his phone is, but upon walking he hears a deep resounding thud... thud... thud... coming from somewhere as if a man of goodly size was walking extremely heavy, very heel-toe like. He wished whomever it was would stop as it was making his head pound even worse. He stopped his walk to sense if it was coming from his neighbor upstairs. ... ... ... They stopped. He started to walk again, the heavy footfalls began once more. Cian looked up at his ceiling and called out, only slightly, "Oi! Ya bastard! Trying walking through ya flat instead of traipsing around like yer stompin' out bugs!" The phone rang again and he grabbed it from off the table somewhat angrily. "Oi, it's Cian." "Hi, Cian. This is Lorcan. They friendly guy from the beach yesterday." "Oh... yeah.... I remember." "Well, I spoke with my friend and he's fine with you coming over, if you'd still like to." "Sure... I still have to return your towel. Surprised you called me, given my abrupt departure." "It's ok. You didn't look to well. Might have been the heat." "Aye... the heat." "Well, since it's my first time heading to this guy's place, I'd like to pick you up around eleven if that's ok with you." "Sure, yeah, fine..." "Alright, see you then." "Aye..." Turning to head back into the bedroom, Cian clipped his foot on the table leg and staggered into his bedroom doorway only to tumble forward after slipping upon two empty bottles of Bushmills Irish whiskey. "OOF!! OW!! FUCKIN' TABLE! ... .... .... .... How the hell? ....I was fairly far away from...." Cian grabbed his foot, but still lying eye level with the floor looked across it to see almost his entire wardrobe laying, scattered on the floor. He stared at it in wonder and slowly his hand reached out to pick up one of his shirts. It was split in so many places. All of his shirts were split in so many places. Down the chest, down the back, busted sleeves, ripped out arm pits.... Nothing was whole. He then picked up some pants and some shorts. Many of them had their waist buttons missing. Most of them had tears in the crotch, at the butt, down the outer seems near the thigh, some even had split cuffs or hems. After picking up one pair of pants, he noticed a piece of paper on the floor, a couple of pieces taped together in fact, and there was writing, calculations, and the outline of a foot. Calculated the foot would be 30.5 cm long (12 inches) and need a UK size 13 (US 14) shoe. Shakily Cian sat up and swung his foot around and placed it on the paper... .... ... it was a perfect fit. Scampering in a backwards crawl from the paper as if it was some horrific thing, he slammed into one bedroom wall and sat there shaking and breathing heavy. It took a bit of time before he realized his stubbed foot was hurting and bleeding slightly. Walking weavingly into his bathroom, he broke out some medicine and bandages to clean and dress his foot. When he when he stood up however, he became motionless. Looking deeply into the mirror, he turned his head around to see if someone else was there. He stepped forward slightly and tapped on the glass and wave his hand in front of it to see if it was t.v. image or if someone else was standing on the other side of clear glass. His hands went up to his cheeks to smack them, then they progressed down over his chest as his breathing became rapid and his pecs heaved up and down. They then glided over his arms, down his waist line, across his thighs. This wasn't him...was it? Memories began to flood his brain of him coming home, after he made sure the coast was clear and once here, sitting down and belting a few back before looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He then tore through his closet like a raging animal, trying this shirt on, with those pants and yet he couldn't successfully get them up or down to where they were supposed to be. Everything popped or snapped or ripped or tore. And shoes!... ... ...His feet covered his shoes now. His toes extended about one maybe two inches beyond the shoe. There was no way of ever getting them to fit in his size 5s again. Cian felt his heart rise up in his throat as he looked at his body in the mirror, then through the doorway to a couple of posters of particular rugby players, then back to the mirror, then back to the posters, back and forth, back and forth.... Suddenly he felt a good hard smack against his abdomen wall and looked into the mirror, then straight down. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" ` Splashing some water on his face, Cian went back into the living room, still fumbling his way, grabbed the phone and hit "dial last number." "Hello, Lorcan. It's Cian. Uhm.... odd request. I..... er..... I....that is uhm..... I... I had a break through... IN! .... I had a break in last night. No... I'm fine... just the gobshites went through and uhm....took knives or scissors or something to all my clothes. ... .... .... No, I'm fine. I wouldn't of noticed ... I kind of got really fluthered last night. Anyway... I kind of need to have some friends pick me up some clothes otherwise I..... I'm.... I'm going to be in the nip all day and I don't think they allow that usually outside of a man's house. Could we make my pick up closer to half past eleven or quarter till noon? ... .... ... Alright. Thanks." ************************************************************************** Lorcan and Cian arrived about a quarter till one at Oisin's home. It wasn't any bother them arriving early, he let them in and they sat in the living room. They had the tele tuned in to a rugby match, but they weren't paying a lot of attention to it. They were giving out a little background info, making lots of small talk, as folks do when they're newly acquainted and making friends with one another. They discovered a fondness of several card games and so Oisin broke out a deck and they continued to chat and play while the shepherd's pie continued to cook. When it was done, Oisin went into the kitchen to get it out of the oven, along with some bread and another side dish, as well as a pitcher of an ice cold drink to have with dinner. Cian went in to assist Oisin and Lorcan asked where the plates and things were to set the table. The three sat having a good time and a good dinner, joking and even playing some cards at the table with occasional screams at the t.v. to some rugby player or a referee. Eventually though they decided it was time to retire back towards the living room and they got up to clear the table. "Oi, Oisin. Gotta say that was an excellent shepherd's pie." "Thanks, Cian. It was my mother's recipe, or her mum's, or her mum's mum's mum's mum." "hahaha. Old family recipe." "Something like that." "Only thing we need now is a good Guiness or something like it to sip down while watchin' the rest of the game..." "Or playing cards." said Loran. "I still need to earn money back from you two or I'm not going to have enough to last me through the semester." Everyone had a good laugh at that and then Lorcan said he'd go grab the beers for Oisin and Cian, when suddenly both of them blurted out a very loud and firm no. Everyone stood there looking at one another for a moment or two before Oisin said with a smile, "That is you set the table, it's our turn to get things." "Okay, but it is supposed to be father's day, so you two grab your beers, and I'll clear the table and do the dishes. How about that. At least I can kind of feel like I honored the day." Cian and Oisin laughed lightly and agreed, grabbed their beers and sat down to relax in the living room while Lorcan went to wash dishes in the kitchen. They sat kind of silent for a moment before Oisin looked over at Cian and calmly asked, "So...what did you look like before?" "What?" "What did you look like before Lorcan poured you a drink through his magical cup?" "Whaddya mean?" "Well, you're a pretty big guy." "Yeah? So are you?" "True but I wasn't until about two days ago." "So?" "So.... you don't look like a guy who would have a rude note left for him calling him an ancient and tiny leprechaun not worth dating." "Oh..." and Cian looked away and down at the floor. "You also said 'no' a little to emphatically like I did, so I assumed he must have poured you a drink and you changed. He did the same to me." "You mean you weren't always kind of rugby looking?" "No... I was only 172.72cm tall and 9.14 stone." "So... what? Guys gonna find me interesting now because I'm kind of tall and built?" "I would've found you interesting even if you weren't tall and built?" "Yeah, right." "No, seriously. I have a thing for red headed guys. I just think they look great." Cian blushed so his cheeks matched the color of his hair. Still looking down he softly said, "160 centimeters tall...just under 8 stone.... but I was cut as hell...." Oisin smiled, "Like an anatomy chart? You could see all the individual muscles?" "Yeah....they just weren't huge and bulgy." "I still would've traced the hell out of them with my finger tip." Cian blushed again. "And now? Thirteen and half stones now at 188.88 centimeters." and Cian did a double bicep pose in the chair. "We're a matched pair then." "What?" "I'm the same.... 188.88 centimeters or six feet tall and thirteen and half stones or one-hundred and ninety pounds. And....I'd definitely jump you in a heartbeat. You really act all tough and macho, but you've got a great soft side, too." Cian blushed a third time, but blushed so hard his entire body turned red. "So uhm.... can I ask a personal question?" "I don't know we know each other that well, but why the hell not? Go ahead." "Did your... you know.... down there..." and then Cian hoarsely whispered, "your shillelagh?" "Oh.... that... yeah.... it did....Yours?" "Yeah...." "Ah...." "Ah...." "You measure?" "No. In total disbelief. Afraid to..." "So it's...." "Kind of out there, yeah." "Mine too." "Really?" "Yeah." "Ah." "Ah..." They sat there in silence for a number of minutes. "You know..." said Cian after a long pause, "I could go for you too. I like you dark guys. Thick dark hair, deep dark eyes, really tan skin, nearly looking more Spanish, kind of exotic." It was now Oisin's turn to blush. Cian continued. "Did he...Lorcan that is.... ask you what kind of guys turned you on?" "Yeah.... he did?" "Is uh.... that.... when the....changes started happening?" "Yeah..." "Yeah... .... ... me too." "Yeah?" "Yeah." "Ah." "Ah...." The silence hung heavily in the air once again before Cian finally broke it. "So you like big guys too?" Oisin sat up on the edge of his seat. "Oh yeah." "Like football or rugby players?" "Bigger." "Bigger?" "Yeah like bodybuilders." "Bodybuilders?!" "Yeah and not just amateurs, like pros. Seasoned pros. The ones at the top that are winning the Mr. Olympia." "Ooooh yes.... like like someone who is a superhero or specifically about ready to blow into the Hulk." "Oh gawd, yes." The two men began to shift in their seats. They could feel their new clothes beginning to close in on them like they were wearing apparel made from shrink wrap. "Do you feel.... warm?" "I feel hot!" "You look hot. Even hotter than just a minute ago." "So do you." And together they looked at each other and stated. "Lorcan." "The iced drinks..." "When he was setting the table...." "Poured the drink...." "Through his goblet." They sat there for a moment, being very fidgety, feeling their growth slow down as their clothes became just a little bit tighter. "Cian." "Aye?" "Your clothes are beginning to fit like under-armor exercise clothing." Cian swallowed hard. "So are yours..." "You want to continue?" "Fuck yeah! You?" "Come on... let's not reward him with a show. Let him be surprised." Oisin motioned for Cian to follow him and took him to his bedroom. Once he shut the door, Cian practically ran into him, kissing him fully, deeply on this lips. "Fuck this is so hot, you growing, me growing...." "You wanna grow for me big boy?" Cian growled. "Come on, tell me how big you like your men." "Awww fuckin' huge man...." "Hmmmmnnnn yeah....with arms as big as cannon balls?" "Oooooh uhuh....yes fucking bigger than your own head!" "Oh shit! uh damn that hurts, but feels so good..." "So powerful...." "So manly...." "FUCKING ALPHA!" The two started groping and feeling their bodies and individual muscles. It didn't take too long before their sleeves were ripping up to their deltoids, their chests were splitting their collars down to their navels, their lats and back were flaring out ripping the armpits wide open, and the backs began to be pulled apart screaming in tears and rips. Also too their butts were bubbling out causing the back of their jeans to explode. Their thighs started busting side seams. Their calves started making the bottom of their jeans round out and remain up, clinging to the large bulbous, diamond hard shape. "How tall....huh huh huh huh huh.....Oisin do you like your men?" "Very tall...." "Like American footballers?" "Taller" "Like wrestlers?" "Taller!" "Basketball players?" "The tallest of basketballers!" "OOOOH shite!" "Hmmmmmnggg fuuuuuck!" The rest of their shirts begin to rip and shred away along with their pants, which lost all hold on top as their bodies inched their way up and swelled out broader and thicker with the new height. Their waist buttons popping and smacking the other's new crunching and bunching abs and obliques, bouncing clear across the room. Their feet swelled and lengthened as well as thickened into huge manly feet made for extremely tall men and tall men that lifted huge amounts of weight. The sides of their shoes just grew out and rolled down to lie flat on the floor before suddenly ripping open straight across both sides of the shoe as their toes stretched and lengthened ripping out and pushing forward the front of their shoes until the fronts rested underneath the balls of their feet. Oisin let out a small hurt noise as his head hit the bottom of the door frame and continued to grow past it. Cian growing at the same rate, still lip locking Oisin as their conversation and grope fest continued. "How do the muscles grow, Oisin? Does the weight spread out over the new height?" "No... it grows with it.... " "Uggggghhhhnnnnn" "Oooooh daaamn..... they keep the size proportionately become hugely built giants." "Like the hulk?" "Like the hulk..." "Definition?" "Total.... one can identify each and every muscle, very cut, extremely defined." "HMMMMMMMM AUUUUCH! And.... and..... how well can you see the density?" "OOOOOOOH.... GAWD..... full..... FU-HULL! aaaahhhh huh huh huh huh full of striations, so many lines..." "Awwww maaaaaannnnn...." "How... how....huh....how about veins?" "Fuuuuuuck yesssss. I love to see veins.... how they highlight the shape of an upper arm riding across the peak from valley to valley..." "ShhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiIITE!" "How they move into the chest looking like tubes filling the pectoral muscles with something causing them to swell out thicker, fuller, broader, heavier." "Oooooh...." "Hmmmmmmm." "What kind of man do you really love, Oisin?" "OOoohhh oh...oh...oh.... a.... a.... RED.....huh huh huh....a red head.... extremely tall.....extremely built......like totally white... not pasty white like an albino, but that natural white that make his red hair just stand out.... ..... extremely cut, tight waisted, totally smooth, except maybe..... maybe a little bit of hair around his nipples, a good bush under the arm, and around his cock. .... augh and long haired.... like down to his shoulders so his bangs can playful....uh-HUH! .... huh huh huh....playfully hide his eyes with what almost looks like a theater curtain but more natural color." "Oooooh" Cian began to moan and groan as his body began to morph and change just slightly and his freckles began to fade away on his upper arms and face, but his red hair began to become more vivid, but slightly darker into something like wine color, nearly burgundy, and then the hair under his arms and near his underwear's waist band began to grow in thicker and thicker and small sprigs of hair grew out in the center of his chest and the spread out and feathers ever so lightly but more dense from that center to around his nipples. Oisin backed his head away and looked Cian for a moment then erotically whispered in ecstasy, "Fuck..... like an alabaster statue of some new Greco-roman god, only much more developed... like three times the size of Heracles...." The groping and growing continued as they rolled around across the wall, their arms, shoulders, elbows breaking holes into the plaster, knocking pictures off, and breaking off sconces. "And you? Cian? What is the love of your life like?" "Some.....huh....huh.....someone.... someone who is just as tall as I am....just as big and strong as I am....extremely tall.....extremely built.....but that off season build.... or with what they call a roid gut..... a..... big.....huge.....bulbous.... medicine ball..... of a stomach....that still has the lines of his abs creasing in there........even though he's got that extra twenty....thirty pounds of weight.....his jet dark hair hanging long in the front but no longer than his ears in back, a style that flutters and flies up in the breeze but masks and makes his deep dark, smoky eyes play peak-a-boo..... ...... the same dark hair that creates a five o'clock shadow by noon and he usually just winds up keeping it as a three-day scruff looking beard.... .... along....along with..... body hair that grows in thick....but not so thick as to hide his muscles and definition....but still enough to know.... you're dealing with a man.... a bear!..... it grows and feathers out sparsely across his upper arms and thighs but then grows in thicker as it goes down his fore arms and shins....and of course up the center of his abs and chest up from his groin and feathers out across the great expanse of his chest, and across the obliques. He looks like a cross between a hairy power lifter and an off season Olympian." It was now Oisin's turn to moan and groan and buck as he grew and grew and his muscles grew slightly larger and a little smoother than Cian's, followed by his stomach distending more and more outwards as Cian looked down, moaning "oh fuck yeah!" over and over again as he places his hands over the growing gut, stroking, caressing, and cupping it. Oisin looked up at Cian and smiled broadly. They locked lips again until Oisin broke it off to ask Cian seriously, "And you man's shillelagh?" "I bet.... hmmmm mmmm nnnnrffff..... I bet just.....huh huh huh....just like yours..." "Like a bat?" "Oh yessssss.... I want my man to squeal ever so slightly... to know I'm filling him to the maximum...." "Like soft it's hanging down almost a two thirds down our thigh...." "And it's not just a shower...." "It's a grower...." "Like another three to four inches longer...." "And growing so thick...." "And hard...." "And veiny...." "Like our muscles....oooooohOOOOOOH!" "AAAH AH AH AHHHHHHH! yes... Yes....YES LIKE OUR MUSCLES!" "And our balls?" "Big and pendulous.... but still pulled up slightly tight to us...." "Hanging enough to be see and peaking on either side of our mammoth soft rod...." "And full of so much come....we need to jack off daily..." "OH! Twice daily!" "With enough spoo each time...." "We cause average men to nearly choke on the amount..." "They're stomachs actually full!" "AAAAUUUUGH!" "oh! Oh! OH! OOOOOOOOOOH!" And the pair groaned and writhed again this time as their cocks grew out like snakes coming out from a hole, the head followed by more and more of the body, slithering out longer and longer. But this time, the snake is wrapping around inside a pillow case as their cock became caught up in their now already too tight of underwear. It then became a bit painful as their balls began to swell and inflate, pushing out more and more forcing their cocks to push back at them and their underwear leg straps to cut into them until finally snaps and rips and tears were heard and the two men stood there with extreme cocks swaying and swinging against their undulating thighs. Cian backed away from Oisin and grabbed a hold of his underwear's waist band and grunted, once only, and jerked to snap what was left of his underwear clean off. Oisin growled at Cian and did the same. The pair then began to stand up and down on their tip toes and their pants hems that were just barely clinging to the top part of their calves just blew apart in one clean rip and the pair was now totally naked. The two stood there staring each other down, smirking, smiling, at each other with lust and devilish grins. "Cian?" "Aye?" "Are you a top.... or a bottom?" "I'm verse...." Oisin moaned loudly at the answer and moved in to embrace Cian hard. Pushing Cian towards the bed, he suddenly flipped them around as he whispered in Cian's ear, "As it was wrong for you to be dumped, be the alpha tonight. Take me....TAKE ME HARD!" The duet of mighty, mountainous men fell backwards onto Oisin's full sized bed. The frame groaned and snapped instantly. Cian and Oisin stopped and looked around, then busted out in huge fits of laughter and shrugged. Oisin flipped himself around to lay the length of the bed, his feet and legs sticking out and over from about the knees down. They were both about as broad as the bed or mattress and their combined muscular weight definitely made it so flat it looked like it was only a few inches thick. The sight of how small the bed was made the pair moan and laugh and very quickly, almost too quickly and very painfully achieve full erections, upon which Cian smiled at Oisin, who raised his hips and buttocks in the air and nodded in the affirmative. It was said that the grasp and groan of pleasure as Cian entered into the exceedingly tight hole of Oisin was so loud it was heard up to three houses away, despite closed windows and doors from all houses. Cian began his motion driving his rod in and out, just a small amount as first, but more and more as he worked up steam and speed. The pair looked like they were one of those old fashioned individual oil rigs that dot some areas of America drilling for oil. The hammer rising up causing a piston to pull out and then shoves it in as it comes back down. There would have been bed springs squeaking and making noise, but as they flattened them, instead it was the sound of large thumps slamming against the hard wood floor. Lorcan, looked up at the ceiling from the kitchen sink every now and then, but then went back to work washing the dishes for the fifth or tenth time. Eventually the two men were screaming in ecstasy, Cian filling Oisin until his spoo spurted out in great spurts from Oisin's hole, until he pulled his pecker out. Oisin spewing his goo all over Cian's thighs, abs, chest, neck, face, hair, until he looked like a bucket of white paint had been dropped on him. Once down, the two laughed and laughed in deep bass voices that shook the windows and echoed through all rooms of Oisin's house. They wiped each other off with the sheets, that nearly were like beach towels to them, and then continued to grope each other and pinch their nipples, lightly stroke their cocks, until the motions got slower and slower, and soon the mega men were fast asleep.
  9. Happy Father's Day by F_R_Eaky Chapter Two: A Pint of Guinness Red Chapter one: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12542-happy-fathers-day-by-f_r_eaky/ Kilterry Pier. There's not a lot to look at or much of it, but during the summer they sometimes have a beach with a life guard watching for swimming, and it's about the closest thing for sea swimming near Limerick, Ireland one can get. Cian (Kee-ahn) Brennan was walking, no, pacing up and down the small pier looking for something, perhaps someone. Finally after his third attempt of walking to the end of the pier, he saw a note that was taped to one of the posts. He opened it up, read it, and then in disgust flung the note from himself like he was tossing a frisbee so hard he hoped it would skip across the Atlantic to Canada. Immediately after there were a series of snickers and giggles coming from the brush and a group of young, college aged men took off running, piled into a car and drove away. Upon hearing the laughter Cain spun his 1.6 meter tall (5' 3"), lithe but well defined frame around to see the back of the car as it left. Flipping his beautiful, red hair that was somewhere between burgundy and pumpkin... just a deep, rich, muted color but one could still tell he was a redhead, out from in front of his sparkling emerald eyes, he screamed at least to one of the young men, "That's right leave ya, wanker! I di'na really want to be with ya anyway! Was gonna call it off, ya ejiot gob-shite!" And taking his sandaled foot, he scuffed the road as hard as he could in a great swift kick. "You look like a man who could use a drink." Cian spun around again and there sitting on one side of the pier was a man with long brown hair, hazel eyes, sort of tall with an average build. "Yeah go on make the jokes about red heads being hot tempered...." "Not at all. Just a warm day and you look angry about something. Figured a drink could help cool you off, at least in one way if not both." Cain stood still for a moment, his head cocked, looking at the young man. Finally he shrugged, "Why the feck not? Not doin' anything else ta'day.... What do ya have?" The young man popped open a small cooler and pulled out a can. "Guinness Red Harvest Stout." "That'll do..." There they were for a few minutes, Cian standing drinking his stout, the young man sitting in his folding chair drinking his. Cian polished his can off in a few brisk minutes. He was angry and he wished there was a bar located here so he could get good and pissed. Not too long after the young man asked him, "So what do you feel like doing?" "What with you? I don't feel like doing anything with anyone. I feel like takin' this can and crushing it between my head and hand, like it's collapsible." "Well, that might hurt, but it's your body." "Naw, I can not do it. Don't have enough strength in my neck or arm muscles to do so. I may looked ripped as hell, but there's practically no muscle." They stood there for a few minutes again in silence, before Cian spoke again. "Look, I'm sorry for making it sound like doin' somethin' with you was not worth my time. No reason for me to be a wanker because some maggot hurt my feelings." "What did he do to you anyway? I didn't even see him come near you." "It was the note... .... he left me...that I flung into the sea. ... .... .... I met him at a club last night. Yeah, I know... a man in his forties headin' out to a club." "I would think you'd be a pub man." "I would, but... .... ....I'm a gay man. Hard to find another one at a pub, sometimes, so I also head out to the clubs still. I'm not trying to find a shillelagh to shag just for the night. I'd like to have a long term relationship. Find someone I like, he likes me, see where it goes. I didn't think he was going to be the one, but when a younger guy comes up and hits on me, a forty-three year old man, it's kind of an ego boost and turn on all in one, ya know? Ach...listen to me askin' you that. I don't even know yer orientation, you don't even know who I am and I'm unloading my burdens like you're some barkeep." "It's alright. Everyone needs an ear to listen once in a while. My name is Lorcan." "Please ta meet'cha. I'm Cian." "So Mr. Arse-Shite hit on you last night, and that took you where?" "Nowhere.... as I just found out. At first he flirtin' with me like I'm the king of the fairies ready to grant him three wishes. Then he makes his move and practically pushes me into a back, dark corner of the pub. Once there we're sittin' in a booth and he's makin' out with me like come the mornin' it's judgment day. At one point I nearly thought we were gonna shag right there. Anyway... towards the close of the club, I'm thinkin' I'm gonna get his name or his number, instead he apologizes to me and says he can't go to my place or bring anyone home for the night as he has an important meeting early in the morning out at Ballylongford for some reason, tourism or something... but he'd be driving on his way back around eleven, and said to meet him here for lunch at noon - a picnic on the beach." "And he turned you down." "Yeah, with a note. A note! Fuckin' gobshite. An' he cannot even be polite about it. Fuckin' writes to me, 'Sorry, I don't date old leprechauns, ya short, elderly bastard.'" "Ouch... that is harsh." "Yeah... drive damn near an hour to get out here for that? I could've stayed home." Lorcan nodded his head in agreement. "So what's a young man like yourself doin' out here?" "I decided to go out to the middle of nothing to get away from all the well wishers for tomorrow." "Tomorrow, what's.... that's right it's father's day. What's wrong with father's day? Recently lose yours?" "No. ... ... ... he lost me. He found out I'm gay." "Oh.... .... ... one of those." "Aye." "So you're no in the mood to hear or see folks celebrating with their fathers right now." "Nope." "Well, picked a fine place to get away from everyone." Cian sat down on the ground next to Lorcan and after a few minutes finally looked up and over to him and said, "So you're out her t'day. What are you going to do tomorrow? That's when most of the guys will be out with their dads." "I'm actually headed to a new friend's house tomorrow. He's an older gay man, not too unlike yourself, no children, heard my story and decided to invite me over. Gives him a chance to cook and we could just talk, play cards, watch the tele, whatever. That way neither one of us has to see everyone celebrating. What are you doing?" "Nothing. Although I was kind of hoping for a weekend long date." "I think that note stated otherwise." Cian smirked, "You think?" and then he chuckled. "Not doing a thing. Both my parents are passed, never married, no kids, so no reason for me to celebrate." Lorcan nodded. "Wanna hang out with my new friend and me? I would need to ask him, but a fellow gay man in the same situation might as well make a group event." "Or our own private support group." Both of the men laughed and then Cian looked out to the sea, pondered for a moment and then said, "Sure, why not. Let me give you my name and number, then you can call him first, then call me if it's alright, and I'll come by, pick you up and we can head there. Deal?" "Deal." and the two shook hands firmly on it. The two sat there for a few minutes more when a glint caught Cian's eye and he stared at a backpack sitting under Lorcan's chair. "What is that?" "What's what? The beach isn't that desolate there's only one thing to see. Cian chuckled, "Smart arse. That thing on your back pack. Looks like some kind of jeweled key fob." "Oh that... that is the most precious thing I own. It's a tiny goblet I discovered near a holy well in my home town. Figured it must have been an offering or some kind of special token. It's a real tiny goblet. Thought to myself, when things are at their lowest and I have no money, I can sell it to a museum or something." "Well, that is an interesting find." "Yeah... it makes things taste better too." "Really...does it now?" "No joke. Here let me pour you another in a cup and you tell me." And with that Lorcan pulled the tiny goblet out of its case, pulled a can of Guinness out of his cooler, grabbed a cup, and proceeded to pour the Guinness into the goblet letting it cascade into the cup. After the can was drained and the cup filled, he handed it off to Cian. "Now tell me if that doesn't taste better." Cian took a swig and then looked at his glass in bewilderment. "That's gotta be some kind of parlor magic trick. You somehow switched ales on me." "Nope. Honest all I did was let it flow over the goblet." "That is amazing." The two sat sipping their ales for a while enjoying the day in quiet when Lorcan suddenly asks, "So what kind of man is mister right for you?" "What, you thinking of applying for the position?" "Ha ha ha ha... no.... just askin'." "I don't know... I'm kind of a paradox. I like bigger guys, but there can be some problems with a short and tall guy, so I kind of like my man to be the same height, although finding short guys like me is a tad more difficult." "So if you could have your fantasy man and it didn't matter the physics and logistics of getting intimate, he would be?" "Tall! ... ... aha....he'd be tall, like nearly a giant." "Like big men do ya." "Well, I've grown up being short all my life. Course I'd like to see or be with the opposite, especially if I could be the top. Taking a big tall guy and making him mine." Cian shifted in his sitting position a bit. He thought the couple of ales and summer heat must be getting to him and he felt like he had a dizzy spell, moment of vertigo. "And would this big man have big hands and feet." "Yeah.... slightly larger than average to body ratio so you can feel them. Like Kodiak paws grabbing you, holding you, while his feet, bare foot, so thick, so muscular, veiny....oooh...." Cian's sandals seemed to become smaller and tighter around his feet. He began to feel his tank top rise further up his abs. "So tall man, with big hands and feet..." "Yes...." Cian closed his eyes and swallowed hard..."Really tall man, like those giant like basketball players, or guys from the Viking legends or American tall tales. uuuuuhhhhh." The tank top bottom rose up higher on Cian's abs, his nips began to rise up, out, and over the tank top's top. One...two of his toes on each foot began to grow between his sandal straps and go past the shoe size. Meanwhile the rest of the sandal became form fitting to Cian's foot, shape and had begun to roll over the sides of the sole. His shorts' hems began to crawl up his thighs. "What about muscle? Super cut and lithe like yourself?" "No....super built, like Mr. Olympia or bigger and extremely cut and shredded. I just oooooh..." Cian felt his pecs swell out just a little bit, pushing the tank top's top out over the abs like a ledge or a shelf, pulling the top further down and threatening to move past his nipples and chest so the tank top suddenly was caught under the pecs and not really hiding them. And the sides began to tear away as Cian's lats began to fill and spread out, while his arms, delts, traps, neck, chest, thighs, and calves began to swell with new found size. "And are they built just for size or do they have maximum strength to them?" "Ooooh.... uhm....maximum strength, really dense, hard muscle, totally shredded, and veiny....uhm.... and....auuuuuuuch...." Again the tank top and shorts shrunk on Cian. The straps of the tank top began to snap, the fabric tore down the sides. It looked almost as if Cian were busting out of a woman's tube top instead of a man's tank top. His shorts began to rip up the sides due to the increase in muscular size, and in length of his thighs. His feet grew a little larger, wider, the side straps of his sandals now snapping or pulling loose from the sole. "And what about down under.... does your man fit the wives' tale of big feet and hands big...?" "Of course he does.... I mean I want him to have a bat. Long... thick..... hard.... throbbing....veiny.....So when I allow him to fuck me, I feel it all the way to my soul. And his balls have got to be like tennis ball size. Massive cum producers, so when he blows in me or I suck him off, I won't need dinner I'm so fuuuuuuuuuull.....FULL! oh gawd.... full...." Another surge as the tank top fluttered off of him. Yet another surge happened and this time the growth was all in his crotch, his cock and balls growing to full potential, filling out his basket further and further from his body. His crotch and zipper area of his pants extending farther and farther out until the zipper just pulled apart. It happened at the same time as his waistband button snapped, the shorts ripped all the way up the sides, and with the broken zipper the shorts dropped by the wayside, leaving basking gloriously nude in the summer sun. "Oh!.... .... I..... my GAWD!..." Both Cian and Lorcan stood up at Cian's exclamation. Cian was now just a hint shorter than Lorcan was and looking a bit built like an amateur rugby player. Looking around quickly, Cian yanked the beach towel from under Lorcan's cooler and hastily wrapped it around himself. "I.... I'm sorry... I don't what happ.... da fuck?! I.... I'll give this back to me tomorrow, if you call. I need to go...." Performing a tuck-tie of the beach towel around his waist, Cian quickly grabbed the remains of his shorts, pulled out his car keys, and ran as fast as he longer legs could take him, to his car. Opening the car door he hurt himself in several ways trying to get it like he normally did, but that wasn't happening now. Cursing at the car, he sat down sideways into the driver's seat and then adjusted the seat back a few notches. Shutting the car door, he slammed on the gas and drove off, sweating profusely and looking down at his body when not observing the road.
  10. Happy Storiversary. It is a bit long...but I hope you all enjoy this piece. - Fraank Foolish Muscle by F_R_Eaky Many years ago, in the time they called the Dark Ages, there was a couple who ran a troupe of traveling minstrels, jokesters, and mummers named Cadman and Beca Howels. They had limited success with their troupe, but still managed to garner requests for performances at some of the well to do halls and churches. Now it just so happened at one semi-well to do hall, that the Lord was indeed very, very old. So much so in fact that upon some brilliant performance by one of the members of the troupe, it excited him so much that he expired on the spot. As he fumbled his way toward a hall corner, he cried out the name, "Amlodd" (ahmloth) and collapsed just in front of a crib. Inside this crib was his son, Amlodd Pryce. It was reported that his mother, a mysterious woman who came, and left, in the darkness of the night, was perhaps some kind of Elvin princess who wished to disobey her father. She was very tall for a woman, with a long, though quite beautiful form, and they say her face had elf like features, but on moonlit nights, in the streams of moon beams, she was absolutely breath taking to behold. But whether that was true or not, she was not to be seen for ages, and what was to become of the poor child? Like his mother, the baby Amlodd was long and lanky for a child, particularly for a baby. This only added to the mystery and fear folks had about the child thinking Amlodd would grow into something fearsome or disgusting looking like a changeling. As it was one of the performers who had, by accident, killed the Lord of the hall, and nobody there wished to care for the child, it was deemed that some member or couple of the troupe should take care of him. Thus the townsfolk snuck him into one of the troupe's pageant wagons and when the discovery of him was made half a day's ride away, Cadman and Beca decided to adopt him as their own. Although, they did keep his original Christian and surnames, lest any powerful dark magic become attached to them. If there was any dark magic connected to Amlodd, it was kept firmly inside him and turned on him over the years. He was eighteen years old now and grown into a fairly tall man, if one could call him that. Six feet one inches tall from his bare feet to the top of his head. Taller than most in any village they visited, but still a number of men taller than him, and they were almost all much bigger built than him. His limbs were spindly like a willow. His skin was white like birch and smooth like hazel. His hair was this drab blond, the color of dirty water or linen and hung straight like moss or vines that was lifeless. His face was smooth, soft, and round, still much like a child's, and the same could be said for his body and build. The only thing that was striking about him was that he had these piercing green eyes, bright as a field and yet deep as a forest. Perhaps it was because of his drab and unhealthy looks that he seemed invisible. Most people ignored him, even most of the troupe members. Although Cadman and Beca loved him, as he got older he was given more and more behind the scenes tasks when travelling, packing up or down, or during performances. If he was skin and bones before, Amlodd thought he would surely die soon one day from pure exhaustion. Now, no one is sure exactly how it happened. Had the other neighboring kings hired all the best troupes before him? Had all the other troupes become ill with the plague or something less severe? Were all their paths blocked by dragons, trolls, or brigands? Whatever the reason it seemed the only folks King Cai Trahern could book for his Twelfth Night celebration were Cadman and Beca's troupe. And thus the troupe found themselves in the royal palace hall of King Cai, entertaining him, his son, Prince Rhys, and many of the kingdom's Lords, Ladies, and Knights. It was during shows such as these, Amlodd was relegated to being the "silent jester." Not a mime as some would guess, but a quiet behind the scenes jester. He would be the one to come out and do clumsy summersaults in order to show how good the acrobats were. He would be straight man for jokes, pie slams, pitcher dumping, water buckets, and depantsing. Of course he was also the gofer and prep person for the acts when they needed items brought to them or to be told they were up next. All of this done in a second, third, fourth hand me down jesters outfit whose vibrancy was so low, one almost swore his outfit was black, white, and gray. As the acrobats and jugglers were performing, Amlodd was rushing in to bring the props needed for the magician & herbalist, Baeddan (bAthan) the magnificent who would be next. Amlodd was crossing the back of the hall, when a floor candelabra snagged a corner of one of the handkerchiefs of a long trail of them that were connected. It broke free but left a tail of silk streaming behind Amlodd a good several feet. At the same time as Amlodd's crossing the hall, a man rose from his seat... and rose...and rose.... It was Macson Roderick, the tallest, biggest, bravest, and most boastful of all King Cai's knights. His figure cut broad at the shoulders and tight at the waist on a six foot four inch frame. His chest barreled out so that his tunics were stretched tight at the collar and those tunics nearly fit like dresses upon normal sized men His arms were such it was difficult to create sleeves for them, even worse to create a rerebrace, upper arm armor plate, that fit his arm relaxed yet allowed freedom of mobility of his biceps when he raised and flexed them during combat. The same could be said for a cuisse or greave to fit his thighs and calves respectfully. He had jet black hair with streaks of white mixed in. His eyes were beady, narrow, and so dark brown folks often mistook them for black. And his teeth.... although nearly perfect and white, had canine teeth were large enough it seemed as though he had fangs and might be part wolf or perhaps daemon. So, as Amlodd was crossing the main hall, Sir Roderick was crossing Amlodd's path. His right foot came down upon the tip of the silk handkerchiefs, which became taught as Amlodd continued to walk forward, and his left foot then became caught in the silk handkerchiefs and Sir Roderick went down upon the stone floor with a mighty thud. The hall became deathly quiet. Everyone looked towards the fallen knight. He spilt his ale all over the floor, himself, and his own body weight crushed his wooden goblet into many pieces. Roderick turned his face from the floor and glared at Amlodd with a gaze that would freeze a man's heart and kill him the very instant their eyes met. Rising up from the floor, Roderick let out a string of expletives as he called out to the unknowing and unwitting Amlodd. "You witless, walking willow! You ass gas full-gorged hugger-mugger!" "What?" "What? WHAT!? You make a string of second hand silken kerchiefs to trip me and after I fall flat on my face, crushing my goblet, and you say WHAAAAAT!?" And although Amlodd is extremely thin and lithe, Sir Roderick still displayed quite a bit of strength as he hoisted Amlodd by the throat into the air with one arm. The young man hangs there choking as Sir Roderick bellows at him, "Tell me why I shouldn't have at thee, now?" "Because, it is Twelfth Night. It is my house. It is my hall. It is my table, and I, the King, for one, care not to see battle nor bloodshed on the last of the blessed nights of Christe-mass! Now put him down, Sir Roderick." Sir Roderick glanced over to King Cai but still held his grasp on Amlodd's neck firm and kept him supported in the air. "Macson!" Reluctantly Sir Roderick brought Amlodd down, but did so by way of flinging him half-way across the room. "I will have recompense. He caused me to crush my one and only good goblet. I have nothing and there is nothing else in this kingdom that will hold enough to quench my thirst like my goblet could. And although I can order one it will take months to carve it, stain it, weather it, reset jewels from the old one into it." "Then we shall ask the boy to pay you. Young man, do you have anything to cover the expense?" To stunned for words, Amlodd stood up, bowed towards the king and softly muttered, "No, sire." "Sire," Cadman came forward and spoke. "He is an orphan boy, adopted by myself and my wife. As he stays with us and we feed and clothe him, we keep most of his earnings. The only thing of value that he has is a small amulet, but that is the only thing he has connected to his father who passed away when he was just a baby, and it certainly will not cover the cost of replacing Sir Roderick's carved and bejeweled goblet." "Then he shall face me." bellowed Sir Roderick. "If he has no material worth, his human worth will do. If he survives the combat, he's paid off the debt. If he does not survive, again, he's paid off the debt... ... ... with interest." King Cai spoke out again. "Surly you can see that he would never survive. He may be a man, but just barely. He has no beard. You said so yourself that he was a walking willow. I've seen you snap logs four, five times in thickness compared to him with your bare hands, and you wish to go to combat with him in armor and weapon? I implore you. For Christmas. For Chivalry." Macson Roderick stood there looking Amlodd up and down before finally scoffing and sneering at him. "Alright. In honor of Christmas and chivalry, I will concede, with this caveat: There is no doubt that he owes me for the cup; accident or no it was his fault. He has nothing to pay me back with save himself. He is, surprisingly but a few inches shorter than me, so that should make him man enough to be able to face me. I will allow him one month per each year it took me to develop and double it. That would give him ten months. And since it is the last day of Christe-mass, I will even give him a gift of two more months to train. One year to train in total, however he can, see if he grows any, see if his beard comes in. As an added bonus he receives one extra day, for my Liege would not have us fight on Christmas so then on January sixth the beginning of Epiphany, not the morrow, but the next, we shall have our duel." With that Macson pulled out a rather tatted and worn glove, not one of the fine ones on his hands, and threw it down at Amlodd's feet. Amlodd nervously bent forward and picked it up as he knew he had to and placed it under his belt. Toward the end of the evening, when many of the guests had left, retired, or flat out fallen asleep at the tables, Amlodd darted from this end of the hall to the other gathering bits and pieces of props, costuming, and equipment and packed them away in their proper boxes and trunks. After setting a number of the trunks near a side door, he began to notice he was being watch by someone in the shadows. He was more average in height, around 5' 10" tall, his frame had a slight build to it, but was much more lithe than what Sir Roderick was - he was more like an acrobat or tumbling jester. His clothes seemed as though they may be fine, at least in cut if not in material. It was too dark to tell the quality. The silhouette of the man's hair was definitely cut in a well to do fashion. As Amlodd stood there staring at the man in the shadows, when the wind came wafting from behind the man towards Amlodd he could smell a pleasant and heady fragrance coming off the man. The man leaned his head forward ever so slightly and Amlodd saw a silver glint from the man's forehead. "Come." The figure took to walking down a spiraling staircase until it came into a storage room, where upon he lit a torch and used it to light a few more within the room. There were a number of trunks and several casks stacked here and there, but was still fairly bare. After lighting the last torch, the figure turned around and Amlodd could see it was Prince Rhys. Grabbing Amlodd's tunic, he pulled the young jester around and backed him against a wall. Then with one hand running down the neck of Amlodd's tunic and one running up the bottom hem of the tunic, Rhys began to rub the chest and crotch of Amlodd. "I like men who are bigger than me... ... ... but not just any big man; I want one who is not only large but has a decent heart and soul. You are somewhat tall, you may become big and muscular or not, but you definitely have a decent heart and soul. You knew you should and wanted to pay Roderick back, but really couldn't. Yet, Roderick didn't need to make you owe him as it was an accident. He could've watched where he was going. "This is the start of my private treasury. The one separate and apart from the kingdom's treasury. My father isn't fond of my lifestyle. I know it's your lifestyle too. You eyes never went to any of the women, including the dancing wenches, but when the acrobats came out in their tight tights and tumbled... Your ratty-tatty clothes didn't hide much, if you knew when and where to look. If a man could beat Sir Roderick... ... ... he could possibly be my champion as well. You're kind of cute when you lift your head up. I like your eyes." Amlodd almost couldn't breathe. He felt the blood rushing to his face, and rushing to his organ, and yet at the same time all that blood felt as though it was streaming through all his limbs and chest trying to inflate them as well. "I don't want to see Roderick win in anything. He's too haughty. He bullies too much. And I think he's after my father's throne, certainly wants to make sure I don't inherit it. I don't know if you could grow large enough and powerful enough in a year to protect my father and me, but you could grow big enough and learn enough skill and strategy to possibly defeat Roderick. To that end, you have my permission to come in and borrow as much as you need from my treasury. Just leave me notes or receipts for what was paid. Course how are you to get in here? The guard was in the middle of shift change when we came down and they certainly won't let you in, so follow me." With that Rhys led Amlodd to a lone cask in the corner. It appeared to have a leaky tap that constantly dripped wine. "It's hooked up to a miniature aqua duct that brings in a tiny stream of water that passes through iron ore. If in here, give this tap a twist.... and the cask front opens. Step inside.... close the door and turn this knob the other direction. Same thing but backwards when you come back unannounced." They walked down a tunnel for quite some distance until the corridor ended and Rhys pushed open a smooth marble section of wall. This allowed them to step into another room full of sarcophagi. "Take this key. Head up the stairs and as quietly as you can unlock the gate. This is the royal tombs, no one ever comes down here. Relock the gate once out and go to the right. Push at the wall within the frame and it will open to the outside. It will look like you're coming out of the memorial stone for one of our great poets. If any of the brothers from the church catch you near the gate, tell them with a confused look that you were looking for the shrine to Saints Bacchus and Sergius. After they redirected you, act like your praying, and after they leave come back to the gate." Rhys stared fully at Amlodd now. "Tell me... do you find me striking?" Amlodd nodded and stammered out a yes, to which Rhys grabbed him by his crotch again and then looked up in delight. "You may be a few inches shorter and much, much lighter than Sir Roderick, but I do believe your lance is more than equal to task than his...." With that Rhys gave Amlodd a full kiss, which caused the room to spin, stars to move across the heavens, the air to be removed from Amlodd's lungs, and time to be frozen. When Amlodd finally woke from his bubbling feeling of awe, Rhys was gone. ***************************************************************** Late that night, after finishing the packing of things away within the pageant wagons, Amlodd squeezed himself into the rigging attic of his and his parents' wagon. Upon reaching the decent height of 5' 8" he was slightly too big for this space, now at five inches taller, it was impossible for him to even really sit up in the space at all. But with it being winter, it was easier for him to roll and slide his way into position to sleep from the trap door and over the furs he used for covers. He also like the space in the winter time because with the furs, it was easily heated up just enough with only one or two candles, as opposed to the summer when it never became cool. It was relatively quiet around the wagons tonight, most of the troupe seeking rest within the castle's great hall. Amlodd however had been told to sleep out in the wagon in order to help keep watch over them. A couple of the acrobats in two other wagons helped to keep watch as well. Halfway through the night, the wind picked up slightly and Amlodd awoke to what sounded like a moan on the wind. At first Amlodd was exceedingly frightened as he thought he heard his name on the wind. When he was sure of it, his mind thought it must be a banshee come for him, but soon he realized it was a man's voice that was calling. Hopping down from the rigging attic, Amlodd went to one of the side window shutters and opened it up. The moon was dancing in and out of clouds creating quite the light and shadow show that to modern eyes might have almost look like some kind of slow strobe effect. Standing in the middle of the square the pageant wagons encircled was a man in flowing white robes who pointed a finger towards the window and Amlodd and then made a "come hither" motion, after which the man began walking. Thinking that he surely must recognize this man, Amlodd quickly put on his boots, grabbed two-three cloaks to brace himself against the winter weather, put them on and then left the wagon. Following the white robed figure out the gate, Amlodd walked down the road, then onto a path for quite some time. Eventually he found himself in a clearing in the forest, located beside a stream. It was cut into a circle and at the outer perimeters the young man noticed there was a ring of trees: Elder, Birch, Rowan, Ash, Alder, Willow, Hawthorn, Oak, Holly, Hazel, then some Vines growing upon one Beech tree, Ivy growing upon another Beech, and Reeds springing from the bank of the stream. There in the center was a large stone block and standing beside it was the white robed man. Amlodd went to approach the man, but as he did so, flits of light began to dodge to and fro in front of his face, grabbing his hair, pulling his cloaks, undoing the laces at his boots. Eventually there was such a great swarm of the lights bobbing and attacking Amlodd folks would swear he himself was glowing, but poor Amlodd was nearly blinded. Then they began to prick and poke, cut and jab at him, rip and tear at his hair and tie it into knots. Finally Amlodd could go no further, and he wondered why the man who had led him here wasn't speaking out or assisting him. "Please! I mean no trouble, good sprites. This man came to me and I want to ask why and who he is. If this is wrong, communicate with me, let me know what I should do." At that moment the flits of light all left Amlodd and began to form two rows a person's width apart from the stone to the outer ring of the circle. A silvery figure appeared who flashed and shimmered as it approached until the silver light was gone and a woman with auburn hair coated or made in Autumnal leaves, a gown made of deep rich moss, and a tray of many miniature pitchers stood in her place. Setting the tray upon the stone, she walked towards Amlodd, poured just a drop from one pitcher on top of Amlodd's head, then smiled at him and kissed him. Suddenly it felt as though Amlodd was in a shower, and all the small cuts and scratches he received were healed and disappeared. "My Lady..." said the robed man and he bowed deeply to the woman. Amlodd looked up and over to the man in white and then stammered, "Bae... Bae..Baeddan?" "Yes, young sir. It is I, you whom you know as Baeddan the great magician and herbalist. However I am actually a druid and today I have come to petition for you. My Lady, I fear for this young man's life. Through a small accident it is threatened and not only do I fear this to be a great tragedy, but the man who has issued it is cruel, harsh, hard, and has little regard for human, let alone animal or plant life. On top of that, I feel something for this lad. I feel him connected somehow to this land. He is needed. The cur that bids him to fight has only allowed him a year to train, where he has had several years to work on and grow into the tower of strength he is today. I beseech and implore you, Lady. Is there naught you could do to help him?" The woman smiled again at Amlodd and then a female's voice was heard on the wind as she took Baeddan's hand in hers, and the other hand twirled and waved over the small pitchers on the stone. "In a cup of oak to provide stability and strength..... Birch bark to make you the Achiever, one who strives after and completes his goals... seeds of a Grand Fir to grow straight and tall.... the seeds of willow to observe and move with agility.... Hazel nuts for wisdom and knowledge.... Rowan berries so that you can think clearly and learn of strategies... Holly berry for cutting and piercing and to know how to lead and rule.... the grape of vine to help you see both sides of situations and thus equalize things out... the berries of ivy to be a survivor, to overcome your adversaries and their plots.... .... Lavender and Lemon for attraction, grace, and sexual prowess.... a pinch of thyme so time may be on your side. To be heated by fire!..." And lightning struck the inside of the cup. "Stirred by air!" A gust of wind caused the liquid to swirl. "Made consumable by earth and cleansed by water!" A patch of moss rose out of the river bank and the liquid rose out of the cup landing and straining itself through the moss, flowing back into the cup. "Now drink, my handsome young lad...." Amlodd wasn't sure why he felt safe in drinking the oddly mixed concoction, knowing some of the items were surely poisonous to men, but he felt that the lady could do no wrong and Baeddan urged him to do so. He tossed back the contents of the cup. It felt and tasted like mulled wine. As soon as the last drop was down, his head spun, things began to go in and out of focus, his knees gave way, and he felt as though he would sleep for a thousand years. Looking up he saw Baeddan's face for just a fleeting moment. "I must take leave of you and the troupe now. Tell them you followed me, but that you lost me and have no idea where I was heading. Tell no one about this night or sight. If you wake late, tell folks you had to much mead." ************************************************************* Amlodd awoke the next morning just before the break of dawn. A mist was rising from the river and in eastern distance a rooster could be heard crowing. Glancing around he could see the clearing, the trees still standing, but the large stone was gone, likewise the Green Lady and Baeddan. But as his vision cleared his stomach roared and roared so long and so loud it sounded as though thunder was rumbling in the distance. He wasn't just hungry, he was downright starving. He was craving food, any and all kinds of it, where as normally he ate lighter than the smallest bird. He couldn't hunt in these lands, they might still be the king's. The wagons didn't have enough food. He knew what he must do. Running back to the grave, the church, the catacombs, the treasury, Amlodd took a healthy amount of gold, leaving a note saying it was for the purchase of food. He then took a basket from the wagons, took it to the market place, and began to buy pies, bread, and anything else; one item from each stall so as not to arouse inquiry, and hiding it in the basket beneath a towel. Once that was done he returned to the wagon where he began to pull out each item and devour it quickly as though he hadn't had a meal in weeks, months, perhaps a year. He ate all of it. He ate so much his stomach felt like it would burst. He thought he might be sick. He lay down on the floor and soon fell asleep. The season of Christe-mas over, things would be quiet for a while until a couple of days around Mardi Gras and Shrovetide, and then quiet again until the celebrations of Easter. January would be a time of rest and maintenance. No performances, but the repairing of rigging and props, re-sewing of torn costumes and clothes, the decision of which Biblical stories they shall present in each wagon for Easter and thus change in sets and paint. However it wasn't tasks as usual for Amlodd this January. At first things were normal, except for his appetite being ravenous, especially a newly large craving for milk. It was so extreme that not only did he start getting up early each morning to work at a couple of farms milking cows, he nearly, on more than one occasion, went to drink directly from a teat like a calf. Amlodd truly wondered and almost feared this craving, but felt he could keep it in check and the extra money didn't hurt anything either. But then there were the stares... ... ... and the new accidents. Originally folks would turn and look up at him, but their glance would quickly turn back away, not because they felt ashamed for looking, but because Amlodd wasn't that tall nor huge as they perceived he might be from peripheral vision. However as the days of January faded into time, more and more people began to stare at him. Their faces began to carry more awe and fear. They began to part the way for him without any request to do so. Amlodd kept getting this feeling that their faces were getting farther and farther away. Other things were happening too that were confusing and frightening to Amlodd. He used to be able to simply bow his head and bow slightly at the waist, as though bowing to the king, when walking through a doorway, but more and more he kept banging his head on door frames, needing to bend over perhaps even more than Sir Roderick had too. Signs from on high became attackers and Amlodd wondered why people were hanging them so low. The rigging attic was getting smaller and smaller, harder and harder for him to slide into and even then, he couldn't get comfortable as his feet were growing longer and wider and now being pushed out further by the longer legs, kept getting caught in the rigging ropes, or smacking props, pulleys, and winches. Shrinking clothes, shrinking chairs, shrinking beds. Bowls seemed like cups, cups looked like thimbles. It seemed as though everything were getting smaller and smaller. Why even the horses for the caravan began to appear almost dog like to him, great Dane type to be sure, but still the equines did not seem so large and domineering as they once did. Amlodd's tunic was riding up higher and higher on his thighs, so too did his pants on his calves. His shoes kept bursting side seams ripping all the way around his feet. What had started out as mid calf boots were now simple shoes that only came up to the bottom of the ankles. By the end of January folks couldn't help but stop and stare, whisper, and gossip. Amlodd now had to bend at the waist and the knee in order to come through doors as the door frame only came up to the top of his shoulders, His parents... well, his adoptive father, only came up to just under his arm pit. Even though he was still very skinny and slight of build, he had grown as tall as some trees said some folks, but most everyone was certain he was taller than the largest man of the kingdom, Sir Roderick. Amlodd's possessive craving for milk subsided quite a bit at the beginning of February, but his appetite for bread, meat, and vegetables only became stronger. He would trek deep into the forest, beyond what was listed as the bounds of the king of course, and set snares, traps, and hunted for animals. If townsfolk could see what Beca saw, they would think Amlodd was catching and eating all the wild game of the forest, if not the world. Two to three quail plus eggs in the morning; an eighth of a boar or a couple of pheasants for lunch; meat, vegetables, and bread for dinner and going back to finish all the leftovers. It was at this time that the troupe began to practice for the pageant plays they would perform at Eastertide, and it was also at this time a number of accidents began to happen to all members of the troupe. The first time it happened to the man in charge of the thunder and clouds. He had fallen out of the top rigging on one wagon and broke his arm. Amlodd was sent to replace him, but he couldn't quite fit due to his height. And so he reached in to grab the pulling system with his right hand and began to pull it one handed, then reached with his left hand for the other and began to alternate curling his arms up and extending them out back and forth to make the clouds move. Next came the two acrobats. At the same time they both took a tumble wrong spraining and pulling muscles here and there. The men who lowered and raised the Angel Gabriel during the Annunciation Play had to go forth and replace them. Amlodd was called upon to handle that, which he did after reworking the system with several pulleys. By the end of the reworking, Amlodd was standing on the ground, behind the wagon, back to it, pulling on two ropes walking forward to raise the actor up and backward to lower him down. Later in the year the act and motion would evolve into Amlodd simply pulling his arms forward in front of his chest and squeezing hard and then extending his arms back behind him again. In The Temptation of Jesus, the man who pumped the bellows for Lucifer's smoke and fire, caught his pants leg on fire and had to recuperate due to small burns. Again Amlodd was called upon to fill in, but his arms were already too tired and aching from moving the clouds and Gabriel, so he stood upon the billows and began to alternately press down with his legs back and forth, back and forth. The men who raised the whale's mouth from the floor and thus lowered and rose Jonah, got caught and pinched in the rigging and were laid up for several weeks. Poor Amlodd was again called in to replace him, but his arms were already so taxed and his legs worked that he would crawl on his back to the position under the wagon and he would alternate between hoisting the whale and Jonah up by pushing up with his hands straight out from his chest, or move up further and push with his legs and feet straight up from the hips. Then there was the typhoon from Jesus Calms the Sea. No accident to anyone there, but the system froze up and thus the waterspout was completely motionless. That is until Amlodd realized the cloth formation was as long as he was tall, and so he would climb up onto the roof of the wagon, drop down into spout, with arms outstretched upon the roof to hold him and then rotate his legs round and round to make the waterspout move. After each performance poor Amlodd thought he would vomit whatever he had for lunch his stomach and abs felt so sore. And thus on and on it went, poor Amlodd was worked to death, so one would think. Yet, over time the tasks became easier and easier for him to accomplish and changes began to happen. By the end of February Amlodd looked broader in the shoulders although not much beefier. There was some definite definition to him which people would marvel at and yet still proclaim he looked like death, all skeleton like. By the end of March he had ballooned out to where his abs began to stick out a little bit, his chest began to hang in two very slim crescent moons, his back was a little wider, his arms although not huge looking had taken on a solid firm ball shape with a vein riding across the top. He finally had a look to him like he wore his clothes instead of his clothes hanging from a pole, and he was eating more. It might have been said that he eating four to five quail plus eggs in the morning; one fourth of a boar or four pheasants for lunch; meat, vegetables, and bread for dinner for three men and going back to finish all the leftovers, but Lent had now started so instead Amlodd was swimming in streams with nets and baskets and while one to two baskets could help feed everyone in the troupe for the day, Amlodd was eating about three baskets full all by himself. At the end of April, Amlodd sneaked into the vault for a fairly large sum of money. The troupe needed a new food wagon, primarily because of how much food Amlodd was bringing in or buying just for his growing needs. He could polish off six quail now without thinking about it, three-eighths to one-half of a pig or boar satiated his stomach at lunch. and they began fixing one whole cauldron full of soup or stew and bread just for him. His body was assuredly becoming very athletic with his pants hem beginning to cut into his calves while his thighs filled out the pants nicely. His chest that looked like two large crescent moons began to pull his tunic tightly across, while his upper arms were filling tightly the sleeves of his tunic. and they had begun to hang out away from his body. In May his clothing troubles began. His chest was now that it looked like he was trying to steal two large platters underneath his tunic, that is until he breathed deeply and arched his back slightly and suddenly the tunic tore down the front. This was not to be out done by the sleeves which were constantly making small popping and ripping noises complaining about the developing and balloon size of Amlodd's arms. They too would at times eventually burst wide open. Of course how could one hear that? Whenever Amlodd reached for something in the rigging or leaned over to grab more food, a tear could be seen and heard right under his arm pit and the formation of what some folks called wings would poke through. Beca had to take time to mending all Amlodd's clothes, who never thought about himself as he was too busy helping cover accident after accident and problem after problem and when he wasn't doing that he was busy hunting, catching, or scarfing down his food. Quail were gone being replaced by three chickens or pheasants; one-half to three-fourths of pig for lunch; a vegetable stew, bread, and the meat was left whole in the forms two to three extra large steaks. This didn't take into account the small quantity of fruit and nuts being snacked on in between. The towns folk began to comment on how Amlodd not only stood taller than a doorway, but could fill the entire space that a door did and then some. Five chickens, dozens of eggs and biscuits were eaten at breakfast daily by June's end, along with an increase of food at lunch and dinner. Doctor's and clergy began to speculate that Amlodd was the daemon of gluttony personified in human form or that he had a spiritual hole in his stomach that made the food disappear. Meanwhile his arms had grown thicker and filler, making a noticeable peak whenever he moved them into a curled position. Beca by now had banned him from having any sleeves as he kept bursting out of them. Two small half-globes filled Amlodd's tunic, making it look as though he was now sneaking good sized bowls somewhere. The tunic would split down the front save Beca now used the sleeve material to add fabric to the front and then embroider heavily a design down the middle. She did have to contend with the fact that now whenever Amlodd bent over his back would tear down the middle, as well as the fact, she kept forgetting to account for his odd developing wings, which made his back much wider and thicker and pushed his arms up farther away from his body that a normal person's should ever be. Not to mention that his calves were set on ripping his pants hems every single day and they were becoming so full, Beca wondered if Amlodd wasn't becoming built so weird way around as they seemed the size of arms, and not just any arms but the size of his own upper arms. This doesn't even take into account Amlodd's thighs which Beca swore were larger than most men's waists, perhaps even their torsos. They were so big, it gave Amlodd this odd, near hourglass shape but not with the soft curves of a lady, but with hard slanted angles. The thighs were becoming a problem to Amlodd as the neighborhood children started to make fun of how he walked, which was now with him kicking his legs out to the side a little bit. At the festivals at the end of July, more teasing came from the children, but gasps of awe and wonder from the people in the villages the troupe visited. Carrying in a large tree sized pole for a pole dance, folks couldn't believe Amlodd was able to carry it by himself. They couldn't believe how his neck looked as thick as the pole. They marveled that the silhouette of his shoulders, back, and deltoids looked like the same shadows cast at sunset by the mountains. That his arms were hanging at near forty-five degree angles from his body, pushed away but those growing wings that made his waist look smaller and smaller. His chest now looked as though he was carrying out two hogsheads, or small barrels. His arms looked like boulders, almost as large as a man's head. Any amount of physical bending, twisting, or work made him swell and inflate slightly larger than when at rest and he frequently ripped his tunic here there and everywhere until it would suddenly just fall off of him, revealing a pair of pants that were ripping in the crotch, around the thighs, up the calves, and even around his ass which had begun to bubble out harder, firmer, and larger. Beca didn't know what to do, the base for Amlodd's clothing was being shredded to nothing and she was running out of scraps to use for repair. And still, Amlodd was loading more and more food onto the spit and onto his plate to eat, and Beca wondered what Amlodd was turning into. End of August and Amlodd is walking around in a full sized cloak that fits him more like a cape and will not close in front and a pair of pants that look more like three-quarter length shorts. Breakfast consists of several chickens, two dozen eggs, and about half a pig, while lunch and dinner are even larger, and some are betting that Amlodd is to the point of eating half a cow. His neck is as thick as his own head, but it's hard to distinguish that as his traps rise so high they almost touch his ears. His deltoids look like small boulders connecting his arms to his shoulders and his arms are now so large the biceps are beginning to take on almost a square appearance and the triceps simply pop and stand out from behind. His back and lats are making him look twice, three times as wide as any man he stands next to and his abs look like the side of a castle wall, which is topped off by two barrels that are Amlodd's chest. So full, round, broad, and thick they are that Amlodd's nipples have begun to point down and out from his torso. His forearms look like a whole cow or pig's leg cooked in size and shape, yet still have veins criss-crossing all over them so that when Amlodd moves his hand at the wrist, it had the appearance of one of Baeddan's old magic tricks of a bag full of writhing snakes. Amlodd wishes Beca could make him a tunic again as his thighs cause his pants legs to become very tight, and not only can one see their three-four tear drop shape definition, and also that of his thigh biceps, and how firm and round his butt is, but also the outline of his soft cock hanging down. Between that and him walking around shirtless, flashing his increasingly hairy torso and arms now to the world, townsfolk began to call him barbarian or Viking behind his back. At the end of September Cadman has added two new acts to the troupe's entertainment repertoire: The Giant Jester and Guess the Weight. Beca doing the best she can, Amlodd is sent out on stage with a patchwork pair of pants, matching jester's cap, and his torso painted here and there with matching colored diamonds. However he isn't turning flips or telling jokes, he is doing a strong man act: lifting boulders, snapping large pieces of wood, hoisting people in the air one handed. He goes out to fields and has a yolk placed over him and runs a challenge between him and a local farmer's horse or oxen team to see who can plow the most on a field. It is fitting that last act as the horse used for pulling the troupe's food wagon sprained his foot and thus, as Amlodd did for many of the other members of the troupe, replaced the horse in pulling and pushing the wagon here and there. And of course, Guess the Weight is there to see who can guess how much Amlodd weighs, a particularly hard job as not only does muscle weigh more than slim and fat, but that Amlodd is still eating, still performing muscle grueling tasks left and right, and thus is still growing bigger, harder, denser, fuller, thicker and stronger. During October the town the troupe was staying in, the local Archbishop hired Amlodd for two things: one during the day to help some local stone masons with moving blocks of stone while making repairs to the cathedral and adding to the structure. In the evenings, the Archbishop allowed the townsfolk to have a festival in the square in front of the church and he dressed Amlodd up to look like a gargoyle come to life. During the day he was hoisting and hefting and lifting and carrying huge stones of granite hither and yonder, and during the evening he could've relaxed in his role but found the children were more frightened and thrilled if the gargoyle picked up heavy stones. Of course the stones weighed so much more than the pull of the rigging or the pulling of the food cart and it caused Amlodd's muscles to hunch and bunch and swell and grow in newer, faster, and more challenging ways. There were times having Amlodd help out brought work to a standstill. The other workers, the master masons, even the brothers of the church would all just stop and watch Amlodd work. When moving his arms, whether loaded with weight or empty, the shape of them changed from something almost block like to this sudden towering mountain peak. His chest barreled out more and more as the day wore on until his shirt would split down the front center. Amlodd would sometimes take his shirt off and everyone would marvel at his torso which looked like a brick wall topped with two meaty and hard slabs making the merlons of a parapet castle wall. His legs swelled, everyone could see even with pants the pull and strength of his hamstring. His calves simply pulsed and throbbed with size and strength. Some thought it looked like a heart, but if it was, it was the heart of God himself as it was far too large to ever be that of a human. Every day the builders and clergy men saw Amlodd's form grow bigger and thicker on a daily basis. The Archbishop and his men frequently had discussions on how this must be how Goliath looked, how Amlodd was a walking statue like those of the giants mentioned in Genesis or those of the archangels, except they were never so fully built, or riddled with so many lines scored across their muscles, or criss-crossed with so many throbbing, pulsing, veins. And of course there was discussion that maybe Amlodd was a fallen, as in fell in an accident not cast down to Earth, angel as there was no man who could be so.... "blessed"....by God in the groin. These changes were not lost on Amlodd. He noticed many of them over the course of time: doorways were a foot shorter and he was twice as broad as them, seats barely fit, tables were raised by his knees, he needed double the fabric for clothing, tubs only came up to his waist when he sat in them and his form sent half the water spilling out. If he attempted to stretch his legs just the slightest, either his feet would kick out the front of the tub, or his thighs winged out and the tub split from the sides, but it wasn't until one evening in November that it really hit home. This November evening, he was sneaking back out of the vault and the catacombs after grabbing a large sum of money. He had to get it. There was simply no way his clothes could be pieced together like a large patchwork quilt any longer. Just the slightest movement, the shortest intake of breath and his clothes would scream, give up their hold and life, and fall away to the floor. He desperately needed new shoes before the winter set in harshly and the Christmas Pageant and Twelfth Night festivals would begin once again. But this last time it was hard to leave. Amlodd was still having problems adjusting to his new size and strength. He thought he was pulling the royal catacomb gate slowly and quietly, but the rusted gate was no match for his bulging arms and hulking-bulking body and the gate swung closed quickly and clanked loudly. He ran down the corridor to the secret door to leave, but this made it worse for no matter how quietly he attempted to run, the heel to toe movement of his massively muscled body caused his feet to thud with thunder! After barely making it out of the Royal Cathedral, Amlodd ran and ran and then stopped and rested by an ancient looking pool. He pulled one knee up and held it, trying to rest his head upon it, but this was difficult to do because his chest mounding out so thick made it near impossible to grasp his knee or get his head to his knee. He had extended his right leg out fully and he could see his massive foot, nearly half a floor tile wide and perhaps a tile and a half long. He took off his cape and felt the cool breeze caress his body. Closing his eyes to the wind's touch, he couldn't believe how good it felt, how many mounds and crevices on just his body alone the wind had to caress and swirl into and over. He bent over and looked into the pool and was so shocked by what he saw. His hair had become lighter, in the moonlight it looked as though it glowed a bright honey-golden color. It was long. It was thick. It was a like a mane that surrounded his head and it blew this way and that, so carefree, and yet perfectly in place at the same time. His nose had defined into classic arrow point. His cheek bones had raised up a little higher, but his jaw had become a bit wider and much more square which was now outlined in a nice bit of a three day stubble beard that was just as golden hued as his top hair. Hair continued down his chin, over his throat, spreading across his chest and down his abs. In wonder, Amlodd touched his jaw and then moved his fingers down to his chest. A shock ran through his system when his hand grazed his left nipple. Amlodd shuddered and took in a gasp, but he brought his hand back quickly and began to massage, fondle, outright grope his own left pec. He could feel it swell slightly to his touch. He could feel his nipple lengthen and harden. Continuing to run his hand down his abs, he stopped just before his cock base and ran his hand backwards up, up, up, through his ab and chest hair. Once that happened it started another swelling action. Feeling a stretching in his groin, Amlodd let out a soft "oh no" and attempted to grab a hold of his cock as though perhaps he could squeeze it and stop it from becoming erect. This only resulted in keeping what little of pants cloth he had from moving while his cock continued to stretch and grow. "Auuuuuuuuuuugh" Amlodd moaned as his traveling cock head rubbed against the tightened pants. Letting go of his cock, Amlodd bucked his hips up at the rubbing sensation the cock head received, and with that his cock shifted in the pants while springing fully to length and girth, tenting his pants out tremendously and then ripping a hole in them. As the evening breeze whipped and swirled, filling Amlodd's crotch with newer, cooler, fresher air, Amlodd yelped in ecstasy, his hand knee-jerk reactions went straight to his cock, catching a hold of loose fabric still clinging to his peen and began to rub it and rub it, stroke and caress it. The touch and sensation coming from this mighty and thick rod of sexual pleasure overwhelmed Amlodd's senses. His stroke brought a buck from his hips, a moan from his lips, and quiver from his mega frame. Over and over he stroked that club, that was almost too big for his own hand, until finally that jolt went through him. The jolt that went out from the groin, around the balls, across the ass, up the back, around the neck, up the chin, over the lip... ... ... before suddenly taking a dive straight back to the cock base where it then shot straight out from it. His ample balls suddenly pulled into his body and then felt as though they were being softly squeezed, deflating, but they would pop back to size and squeeze in again, over and over. Leaning back and crying out, Amlodd's right hand reached out, accidentally grabbing an ancient stone pot and shattering it, nearly crushing it to dust. His left hand tightened his grip on his cock, but that didn't stop it from shooting out stream after stream after string after string after ribbon after ribbon. As Amlodd shook and convulsed, it felt as though he was getting hit by strips and strips of hot leather that had fallen and now lay across his groin, his abs, his chest, his neck, his chin, his face, and perhaps even shot beyond! After several, no, dozens of convulsions, Amlodd collapsed and when he began to feel a film forming over him where the copious cum strings had fallen, he flipped himself into the brisk pool, washed himself off and then, seeing he had destroyed his pants, wrapped the cape around his waist so it hung in front like a loin cloth and ran back home to the wagons, with money in tow. The month of December progressed along. The work at the Cathedral kept working his muscles out to the max, mainly because when the master masons began to notice the load was become light for Amlodd, they'd pile more stone and brick on. The first three weeks of December they had to make him work inside the enclosed cloister courtyard as he had no clothes. The Archbishop took pity on him, it was said, and ordered enough fabric to make him a descent respectable outfit. With the money Amlodd took from Prince Rhys' stores, he bought enough cloth to make him a work outfit, something he could wear at the Cathedral or quarry, and another bolt or two to make him a new work outfit for the troupe. The people of the villages and towns he went to stared at him in awe and wonder now, but with all the work he had done at the church, the dairy farms, and other areas, people knew that although he was a mountain of a man he had a most caring soul. Thus whenever they saw him, although they made way for him to pass, they always looked up at him and smiled and greeted him: "Wes Hael, Great Amlodd!", "Good morrow, Giant Amlodd.", "Well met, Mount Amlodd.", and from the children, "Pop your arm, Amlodd, pleeeeeeease!" And they would take turns squeezing it and then run away giggling. This of course all had an effect on Amlodd. He stood straighter and taller when walking, with his head up high. His chest that already barreled enough, was stuck out further when he walked now, with his shoulders back and broad. He had become used to his size and fallen into the giant and broad man's gate: his arms having gone from straight, acute, right, to damn near obtuse hanging angles from his body; his stance becoming set with feet shoulder, his broad-broad shoulders, width apart; and when he walked he kicked his legs out to the side and then rolled them around and forward in order to move. Indeed for the last some folks swore that if one put a pair of sticks between Amlodd's legs while he walked, a fire would soon be struck. And then came all of his new clothes, which despite being measured just shy of month ago, still did not quite fit. The poor giant still stretched them very taught and although they held together and did not burst, it still looked as though he were wearing clothes that were one to two sizes too small. **************************************************************** Finally Twelfth night of the next year was upon them. Amlodd and his troupe were back in the great hall of His Majesty, King Cai Trahern. The fires were stoked to a roaring blaze, the cooks had slaved over many a delicious dish for weeks, whole roasted pigs and towering cakes were laid out, nobles and guest from every corner of the kingdom had arrived to celebrate, even Baeddan the magician was there, although he looked to be more of a close advisor to King Cai, and was dressed in brilliant white robe with golden torse. Sir Macson Roderick was there, of course, bully barreling his way across the hall, knocking men and women down, taking the largest portions of the feast and giving a nod shrug off to folks who had to wait for seconds to arrive now, in order to eat their first. First course out, the salutations to the King, the Prince, and other fine Nobles, as well as to God and Kingdom made, it was now time for the entertainment to begin, King Cai made the gesture and his herald made the announcement, "Lords and Ladies of the Court and Kingdom, it is time now for the Green Rose Entourage!" Cadman and Beca came in followed by their troupe making a mini parade around the inside of the tables until all, save Amlodd, were in and Cadman and Beca we once again standing in front of the King. They all graciously bowed, some pleasantries were exchanged and then Cadman clapped his hands, the troupe members disappeared, and the Herald made the introduction of the first act. "Lords and Ladies, here for you now are Tyler and Taylor the Twin Tumbl...." "Yes, yes, yes, yes.... oh let's do forego all these in between acts and get to the main attraction everyone has come see." Said Sir Roderick as he stood up from his seat and glared at the Herald. "As we're awaiting the oh so one-sided match tomorrow, everyone watches to see what our man, Amlodd, has become so they can make appropriate wagers tomorrow. Let us just cut to the chase and have him perform his act. What is it... he's supposedly a great, mountainous strongman now?" Sir Roderick's group of men cackled and guffawed with laughter and snorts. "Bring him out now and the other acts can fall in line behind him." Just then the hall's main entry doors opened and the Herald announced, "Her Majesty, Queen Ifanna Appleonia of Ælfanweald." Under the arch of the doorway, there stood the most enchanting woman ever seen. Tall, quite tall for a woman, although still shorter than Sir Roderick. Her gown was full and shimmered with several layers of translucent colored fabric? A magnificent strand of diamonds and amethyst hung about her pale neck while small clusters of the same hung from here ears. They matched her eyes which sparkled in her comely, ivory-like face, above her lips of ruby. She wore a crown that looked like lace made out of golden threads, which rested upon great buns of hair spun of silver, combed perfectly, glowing, studded with diamonds or was it fireflies? The Queen half-way across the hall without making a sound and then politely curtsied to King Cai. Sir Roderick however was incensed that his calling for Amlodd had been interrupted and shocked those assembled by turning addressing Ifanna in an extremely unchivalrous manner. "Regal wench. You need to learn your place, in line behind a man and after he's finished." He turned to actually take his hand and smack her face, and the crowd gasped in shock and awe, twice. The first time was because he dared to openly strike a woman, and one that was a queen at that, and second because Ifanna took her hand to grab his striking wrist and stopped it cold. Made more impressive that her hand upon catching his didn't even budge inward towards her. Just before she spoke some of the assembled guests swore her face glowed and flashed, as though her complexion were made of tumultuous skies filled with storm clouds and lightning. He voice then boomed and echoed throughout the hall. "I am no wench! Regal or otherwise! I wait for no man and I am never in queue, waiting in a line... ... ..." and looking towards King Cai, "Save when protocol calls for it from me for my most gracious host." King Cai nodded his head, "You are most welcome, cousin of crowns. We shall arrange a seat for you at my right." With that the crowd saw a sight that once again caused gasps to grasp the air; Ifanna still holding Sir Roderick's hand, turned and twirled herself and him as though they were doing some sort of dance, and suddenly Sir Roderick was thrown back and onto his awaiting stool and appeared somewhat stuck there. Ifanna passed gracefully by and looking down upon Roderick said, "You need to learn your place... knight." After another throne like chair was placed at the head table and Ifanna sat down, apologizing sweetly for arriving so late to the festivities, the herald turn to see what should be done, the acts in order as the troupe wanted to present them or ask for Amlodd to be brought forward. Reluctantly the King granted Sir Roderick's request, but stating loudly much to Roderick's embarrassment, "Let's see this newest act so Macson can see the man, his challenged opponent for tomorrow, and once viewed perhaps the blow hard will go home to prepare and the rest of us can enjoy this feast in merriment and peace." Although he somewhat growled a response back, Macson Roderick ended it with a "It'll be good to see the small willow twig once again...." and then let out a series of laughs, chuckles, downright obnoxious blasts of mirth as he sat back at his table and had all his men laughing as well. Many of the gathered guests laughed at his remark as well, but they soon began to taper off into silence. Even Roderick's men fell into being as silent as church mice as they saw Amlodd approach and come to stand in the center of the hall. Still chuckling as he turned and started to speak, it faded away and became very timid as Roderick finished his question and stood there looking up to the face of Amlodd. "So this is the mighty... ....mountain.... Amlodd?" Roderick had gone to stand toe to toe with Amlodd was stuck dumb at the fact he only came up to just under Amlodd's nose. He noticed that Amlodd's torso extended wider than his shoulders, by a good bit, and that didn't even begin to include Amlodd's boulder like shoulders, wing like lats, or his upper and forearms. Scanning him top to bottom, Roderick was going through a mixture of shock and rage as he could see that the costume, jester booties, tights, tunic were all brand new, but they clung closely to Amlodd's skin leaving nearly nothing to the imagination. The diamond shapes on the tunic were pulled so taught across Amlodd's chest, they looked more like some kind of misshapened trapezoids. Both in the chest and in the arms, if Amlodd breathed one could see the rise, the fall, every twitch and movement of the bulging, bulking muscles. And the tights were even worse, looking as though they were thoroughly painted on showing every absolute crease, crevice, bulging mound, popping muscle, throbbing vein, cable like ligaments and tendons as if Amlodd were nude. Only the striations were missing and some weren't so sure of that. Not knowing Amlodd's new size, he had stepped up a little too close and place, what most used to think were ginormous feet, on top of Amlodd's toes. Amlodd wiggled them a bit, rising Roderick's feet as his did so. Then looking down as Roderick did, when they raised their heads Amlodd stared at Roderick's face and gave a soft and non-meaning, "ow", with an arched eyebrow down to Roderick. Roderick didn't speak but had he, he would've stammered, and he slowly so as not to look afraid, backed off of Amlodd's feet. While everyone laughed lightly, Roderick went into a tantrum directed towards King Cai. "It is just as I heard. He has turned into a beast. A beast within a year! This is most unnatural! This is magic! His body is enhanced by the fae and I know it was done on the early morning of Epiphany last by that mad mage!" Baeddan stood up to protest. "I did no such thing, Your majesty. The contest between them tomorrow is as fair as can be!" "You didn't feed him a potion then? One that would make him grow into a giant? To give him muscles like granite? To have him cheat so he could best me? Brother Relgo, now!" With that a priest, built nearly as large as Roderick himself suddenly hurled a large iron cross at Amlodd. While Amlodd held it after catching it, the priest began to chant sternly and quickly, "In nomine Patris, ut deleret omnes magicae et dryadalum sanguinem de corpore... In nomine Patris, ut deleret omnes magicae et dryadalum sanguinem de corpore... In nomine Patris, ut deleret omnes magicae et dryadalum sanguinem de corpore!" There was a glow from the cross, and then one around Amlodd which then began to form a line, a stream at the top of his head, but after gathering for so long it receded back into Amlodd followed by a blinding flash. When everyone could see again, there was Amlodd still standing in the center of the hall, still as large as ever. "Brother Relego, I thought you said iron and that prayer would cast out all fairy magic and fairy blood from Amlodd!" Relego stood there dumbstruck, but the question wound up being answered by Baeddan. "It didn't work for two reason, Sir Roderick. Number one there is a small bit of magic here, but you allowed it. You did say when making your challenge last year that Amlodd had a year and a day to build himself up in any way he saw fit. You knew that although he would become a titch healthier, maybe even a tad bigger in a year, he would never gain the size needed unless he could have the training for years like you did. But you gave him that. You said you would give him a month for each year of training it took you to become the near giant man you are today, and you even then gave him a couple of months extra. So I did give him a potion, one that would make his body work and grow a year's worth within each month, but that was decided to be legal and just by the universe, otherwise it wouldn't have worked. The second reason why it didn't leave? He was a late bloomer. The height he has and the frame he has would've naturally happened to him in the next couple of years. He was indeed to be a giant of a man." Sir Roderick roared, "Auuuuuuuuugh! I will not have what was once a twig of a fool ruin my plans! He will not best me, and I still declare he cheated! I shall have this kingdom and rule over it!" With that his men, plus a few hidden ones, held swords and knives to key nobles, the king, and the prince. Roderick then grabbed a quite heavy, long oaken bench and smacked Amlodd upside the head with it. Amlodd having looked to see how Prince Rhys was doing didn't see it coming. Seeing stars Amlodd collapsed to the floor, attempting to shake off the blow. He just barely got his vision cleared to see the next strike with the bench and catch it with two hands as if he were hoisting a bar over his head. Roderick jumped and landed on the bench causing Amlodd to go into a crouching position, the bench in his hands and resting upon his broad back. He began to easily lurch back up, but then some of Roderick's men came to assist and jumped onto the bench as well. When even those three men didn't seem to slow the lurching down, Roderick bellow to all of his men to come over and assist. "Pile on. PILE ON! We keep him down we can take him out and the kingdom will be ours; the king too frail and the Prince a scullery maid!" Other men joined five men on the bench, eight men on the bench, twelve men on the bench... Roderick's dog handler jumped on. Thirteen men and two dogs on the bench. For a brief moment it seemed that Amlodd was pinned and the men could draw swords and daggers and stab him through. But Roderick forgot his time given for Amlodd to build up was still going. The challenge day wasn't until tomorrow, and Roderick and his men, left Amlodd in a grand position to work out and grow. The crowd began to speak in whispers and cries wonder what was going to happen? Was it a kingdom over throw? Was poor, poor Amlodd dead? When suddenly they began to hear grunts and moans from a low pitched voice followed up by some "whoas" from Roderick and his men. More grunts and groans, heavy labored breathing, whoas. Soon the sounds became on long string being chanted over and over again. The bench and the men on them began to bounce and bob as if they were actually in a small boat out on the water. It was Amlodd. He had positioned himself when they piled on to have his bulbous bubble butt resting on his ankles, while his arms were up and holding onto either side of the bench. He was currently bouncing on his legs... more and more he bounced... more and more and every ten reps or so higher and higher. Soon guests began to see his legs and they began to hear his tights. A rip here and zip there. Each rep, each bounce his tights became tighter and tighter, exceptionally form fitting. The guests could see as the tear drops of his grew larger, fatter, fuller, almost as though they were two, three, four wine skins being filled to capacity and prepared to burst. His thigh biceps mounded out more and more making his thighs look twice, three times as big as his waist, each! The hamstring pulled so thick and taught it could be used as an instrument string, probably a bass as big as it was. The diamonds on his calves grew wider and harder losing that shape and moving to large hearts with rising veins, making his calves appear to be two large sacks holding pythons that writhed and wriggled. With each bounce and size increase the seam of the tights popped and spread apart. Runs in these tight hose began to sprout on every side, soon one appeared every inch or so and pulled and ran the entire length of Amlodd's legs until it looked as though he wore leggings made of ribbons that were only attached and gathered at his waist and his ankles. By this time Amlodd was able to get his legs fully extended and standing straight despite the bench and its occupants' weight. Now it was time to get the bench up off his back. Still stooped, he began to once again bob his attempting captors and killers up and down in the air. Moaning and groaning, breathing through clenched teeth, Amlodd nearly swore as it seemed to be taking him so long to get them lifted, but eventually he did, but being in a stooped position began to lose some balance and so he somehow switched the load over his head and the pressing up came more from his chest and not his back. Now the bod and ride up and down was becoming really wide as Amlodd pushed them far up and out when his arms extended, but lowered them long and slow with his elbows sticking far behind his back and the bench resting on his chest. This too became quite cumbersome and soon Amlodd began to hoist them over head quickly into order to alternate between back and front, chest and back. As this was done he began to swell larger and thicker in his torso. The chest and back pulled, stretched, tore the diamonds on his tunic. In one sudden movement his back snapped the collar and started a rip down the center back. Next switch the chest snapped it and produce a rip all the way down to Amlodd's upper abdominals. This was followed by long ripping strips happening under the arms as Amlodd's lats spread out wider and wider as though a pair of wings were being unfolded. So it was just strips of multi diamond ribbons that were hanging off of Amlodd's shoulders that eventually fluttered to the floor and revealed a colossal column of cobblestones and bricks that a horse could walk across as a road, a chest that appeared as hard and to barrel out as large as any of the mead or wine casks created to hold hundreds of gallons, and a back and lats that grew into an upside-down evergreen tree that had grown on the bottom as wide the tops of 400 year old oaks. Through all the bouncing and bobbing, many of Roderick's men now yelped for fear, dropping their knives and swords and holding on to each other for dear life, not sure they wanted to find out what a ten to eleven foot drop in full armor would feel like. For Amlodd had now worked his way up to having them hoisted above his head. And he lowered them on his back and neck, then back up and down on his chest, over and over and over every time his biceps, triceps, forearms grew, expanded, became thicker, harder. So full were his biceps now when relaxed or full straightened they looked nearly square. Combine them with the clydesdale sized horse shoes Amlodd was now sporting for triceps, it looked as though Amlodd had the blocks he was hoisting at the Cathedral for upper arms. His fore arms grew as well, coming in thick, hard, veiny, pulsing and popping looking like most men's legs and calves, or gigantic roasted turkey legs were attached at Amlodd's elbows. The sleeves, the only thing left to Amlodd's clothes besides the crotch of his pants and his booties, everyone watched them stretch and pull and shrink wrap the mighty upper arms and tops of the forearms until when in the down position of holding the bench and knights on his chest or back they finally simply tore the fabric across the top of the bicep, or along the side exposing the crevice between bice, brachialis, medial and long heads of the tricep, or creating rips from the elbow up to the wrist, or snapping the cuffs. Eventually the sleeves having been shredded to threads drifted to the floor and there stood Amlodd nearly naked with his hands and arms held high above his head holding the bench with the knights and dogs. He stood motionless, his muscles, all of them totally swollen, fully hard, veins crossing over their valleys and dales, and streams of sweat winding and rolling in and out over the mountains and valleys of Amlodd's body. Hair matted from the sweat all over his body: across the expanse of his colossal chest, down the abs to his waistband, feathering over his quartz like quads, his block like biceps, his freakish forearms and concrete like calves, not to mention the five o'clock shadow on his jaw line or his mane of head hair. His neck looked like it had ballooned as well, becoming possibly thicker than his own head, and suddenly it looked to be pinched off by his trapezius which was mounding more and more mountain like as he held his attackers mid air. He was a living walking statue of the ancient Greco-Roman gods that folks had seen, except he was two...three...four...five times as built and broad as any of them. Finally Amlodd's gritted teeth came open and a low growl that became a scream came out of his mouth as his arms swung back and dipped down a little bit, only to instantly push out and swing forward at the same time, sending the bench, knights, and dogs hurtling through the air across the hall to land near to the double entrance doors. And now Amlodd stood there, breathing heavy, his chest heaving, his arms slightly bouncing up and down, up and down. Finally, he clenched his fists, bent his torso slightly forward, and brought his hands down and in front of his abs, flexing and crunching everything at once with a primal scream. "eeeeerrrrrRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAUGH! .... .... ..... huh.....huh..... The....huh....huh..... challenge..... huh....isn't......huh.....until to.....huh....to.....huh...huh.....TOMORROW!" And having been somewhat bent down in this pose, Amlodd picked up the Iron Cross from the floor, took in both hands on either side of the side bars, and making the same pose and growling louder, proceeded to bend the iron cross until it looked like two of the letters thorn for "th" (þ) placed next to each other in mirror image. Although Roderick's men were shaken and fumbling still from the thrown fall, Roderick was back on his feet screaming and rushing towards Amlodd. He went to strike with his left hand, Amlodd caught it. He went to strike with his right hand, Amlodd caught it. There they stood pushing one another with their hands together, fingers intertwined. A couple of times it seemed Roderick was winner and pushing Amlodd's hands backwards to touch his wrists, but this was only because Amlodd still was unsure of how large his body and muscles were or how easy it was to execute some movements with them. Still it wasn't too long of them going back and forth before Amlodd had the idea of basic fighting principles, and with a loud yell, moved forward, bending Roderick's hands back to the wrists and then twisting his arms down and out, nearly snapping Roderick's forearms off. A simple push sent Roderick then stumbling backwards towards the entrance door again. Amlodd turned to face King Cai and to apologize for having to fight on this last day of Christe-mas when he knew and understood the King's order for no fighting to occur until the first day of Epiphany was being disobeyed. But Roderick wasn't done. His coup wouldn't be stopped by a lowly jester... no, a jester's lackey. Screaming he snatched up two spears and chucked them at King Cai and Amlodd's back. "ENOUGH! NOUGH Nough nough ough gh gh gh....." It was Queen Ifanna who had stood up and with her hand stretched out. There was a flash of light and as her voiced echoed near endlessly throughout the hall, the spears stopped midair and then suddenly changed course flying into the back of two empty server's chairs. Stepping out from behind the head table, Ifanna walked towards Sir Roderick with a cold and stern look like a mother reproving her child. "I will not be undone! I will have..." "SILENCE!" and her voice again seemed to echo eternally throughout the castle halls. "You have caused men to fear you, not respect you for your size. Instead of helping your fellow man with your natural gifts of size and strength you have bullied them and taken from them to preserve yourself and never to help out your fellow man. Your king gave you a powerful position so you had something to occupy your time, to keep your idle hands busy and not turn to pursuits un-noble and wrong. And you repay him thus? Belittling him, his people, his son, and attempting to overthrow and become king yourself? Your king.... .... .... the Earth and Universe are much displeased with this." "And what will you do about it, witch?" "I AM NO WITCH! I control power of the Earth and Stars as guided by them to ensure harmony, prosperity, and peace. And this.... shall happen this eve." She gave a nod and motion of her head to have Amlodd stand near or over Roderick. Roderick stood up, presumably to take yet another swipe at bringing Amlodd down, but before he could, he felt a chill and a lack of ability to move. " Macson, oh, Macson, so vain with your size, It's blinds you to seeing life's true and great prize. Belittle and bully those weaker than you, Now called one a cheat, when his actions were true. So abhorred were your deeds, we now place this curse, To take what your prize away with a verse. And grant it unto your most gracious foe, To ensure you're in check, he more now shall grow. Your lack of chivalry tis now your downfall, live life here among us so tiny and small!" Sir Roderick and Amlodd both began to feel a tingling sensation all over their body and before he knew it, Roderick's worst nightmare began to take form. Two minutes pass and suddenly he realizes that his head only comes up to the bottom of Amlodd's jaw or chin. Two minutes pass quickly again and it becomes much worse, he just barely stands taller than Amlodd's shoulder. He cries aloud in protest, but once done realizes that now he only stands as tall as the top of Amlodd's chest. A string of expletives towards Ifanna and then he only comes up to the join of Amlodd's deltoid and upper arms, or right at his underarm. A defiant cry of "this is not happening!" and suddenly he's only as tall as the bottom of Amlodd's chest and it seemed to just out feet to him like some great awning stretching out above him. He now cries and sobs as pieces of his armor slough off of him as though he were a tiny child playing dress up in his father's clothes. And then Roderick only came up to where Amlodd's lats and mid torso meet. "You are a bitch and you will undo this right now!" And Roderick picked up dagger and as best as his much smaller and shorter arms could do, threw it at Queen Ifanna. It clattered to the floor well short of its mark, not due to magic but because of how weak and small he was. "Auuuuugghh...." Macson stood up straight for a second and then suddenly, he watched as the next row of Amlodd's abs rose above his vision and his head. "The curse shall stay upon you and for every time you are again bullying, arrogant, or abusive towards someone, you shall shrink another two inches, lose more muscle size and strength and it shall be given to your perceived foe or more to Amlodd should you cause that person to cross over. It shall do this until you have learned your lesson or your are as small as a fae, and then you will have to come to live in my realm." Macson let out a small yelp and as quickly as he could pulled his tunic out from under his armor, wrapped it around himself and then left the hall. Meanwhile servants were running into one another as they attempted to bring Brandywine and snifters for what with all the growing just added to Amlodd, none of his clothing was left intact. His feet had exploded out of his shoes, and if not his bubble butt, his more than enough, ample package caused the last bit of his pants to split and give way. He was now standing totally nude and with a pendulum greater in size than perhaps the town clock swinging in the breeze. Dozens of women fainted, many men looked despondent and depressed now, and it was rumored that even Prince Rhys let out a squeak of pleasure and then passed out in his chair. Amlodd went to grab the bench and hold it in front of his groin, but Queen Ifanna waved her hand and soon dew drops swirled all over him, the breeze blustered and gusted all around him and he was clean and well wash from his ordeal and then all his scraps of cloth from his torn clothing, along with a few of the banners on the wall, combined together to make a brand new pair of pants and tunic that fit him well and just snug so that he was dressed both with comfort and move ability, but all could see he was a man with extreme muscular size and strength. Amlodd approached the high table, bowed before King Cai and issued an apology for having burst through his clothes and being nude in front of everyone. The King chuckled and said there was no need to apologize as number one, the growth really wasn't in his control and two, because he had just saved the king and the kingdom. But at that very moment one last pop was to be heard, It was the pop of Amlodd's necklace. His neck had grown too thick and strong for the necklace and it had managed to stretch the chain, some of the links apart and release causing his amulet to fall onto the table in front of King Cai. Cai looked down at the amulet and then his eyes grew wide. "Who gave you this amulet, boy?" "I assume my actual father did, sire. It was around my neck when Cadman and Beca found me." "Cadman, Beca, come forth. You say you found this child?" "Yes. As we said last year, it was half a day's journey from the last great hall at which we performed that season." "Young man, what is your last name?" "Pryce, your majesty, why?" "That amulet contains the crest of the Duke of Langberch, Sir Islwyn Pryce. I know this for that duchy is part of my kingdom and Islwyn is a distant cousin, thus part of the royal family. Something like the mid thirties or so in line for the throne. I had heard of his death, but nothing about you, except how you had gone missing." "Your Majesty," said Beca. "We didn't take him, truthfully. We found him amongst props and other thing in one of our wagons. The staff of the household feared him to be a changeling due to his long size as a baby. We accidentally caused the death of Sir Islwyn, so the staff thought it was our responsibility to take care his child. We told them no. When we discovered Amlodd, we saw his name on the back of the amulet and knew he was Sir Islwyn's baby boy but we didn't think anyone there wanted him. We only knew Islwyn as some great local Lord... by name.... we didn't know him by title." King Cai sat back in his chair and sighed. "Well then, before festivities resume, we must take care of some business. I want all to hear me and hear me well and good. These are formal and royal proclamations and the scribes shall do well to note it, as well as the Chamberlains and Heralds. First, for saving us and the kingdom this day, Amlodd Pryce is here by granted knighthood in our most prestigious order. Second Sir Pryce is hereby to assume his station as his father's son and heir and it to be Duke Pryce of Langberch. Third, the regent whom I appointed to govern Langberch until the heir be found, has sided with the former Sir Roderick, so I will send you immediately to take back your duchy, trounce the regent, and restore order and control of the duchy as quickly as you can. Fourth once you have done that, you are to find someone to act on your behalf in those lands for you are to move back here for two reasons: reason A. You are to take control of my armies. A man of your gigantic stature, size, build, and strength, just by being here will surely dissuade any enemies for thinking to attack. We shall have the best of my warriors help teach and train you in fighting and tactics. and B. In as much as I'm not sure about this.... lifestyle.... I certainly cannot change my son, nor where his feelings of adoration and passion take him. I have no idea how you feel, but given that we now know you are of royal and noble birth, not to mention the addition of physical stature to the royal line wouldn't hurt, if you manage to come to some agreement on having children somehow, then I have no problem with an arrangement of marriage between you and him, if you'll have him." The giant, Sir Pryce blushed deeply and sheepishly said, "I thank you, your Majesty for all these gifts, and.... yes if he will have me, I will have Price Rhys." Shouts of joy and laughter filled the air. King Cai ordered the armor of Macson taken away to be reshaped and used to make new, larger armor for Sir Amlodd Pryce, Duke of Langberch. Amlodd was asked to sit at high table, Cadman and Beca and all members of their troupe were given extra payment at the end of their performances for not only being such good entertainers but for having restored the Duchy of Langberch, a branch of the royal family, and the reason why the kingdom was saved. Prince Rhys was finally roused awake and spent the remainder of the evening sitting in Amlodd's lap, who prayed all night that he would not pop and erection in front of the crowd in the hall, even with wearing well fitted pants. Later the Prince and Amlodd went strolling up the Prince's bed chambers. Amlodd remembered first meeting the Prince, when although taller than the Prince then, the Prince at least came up to Amlodd's brow. Now the Prince just barely made it up over the bottom of Amlodd's pecs, just under the arms or right where the deltoids and upper arms meet. Speaking of upper arms, the Prince went through his yearly clothing allowance that night, having Amlodd pull his pants up over his arms, lacing the pants shut, and then flexing his arms and watching the laces or the waist band snap. Rhys nearly went into orgasm when they compared the tattered challenging glove of Macson to Amlodd's hand which dwarfed it considerably well. However Rhys became quite the surprise and great lover to Amlodd. Bringing Amlodd into the castle, several things had to be redone. He now stood head and pecs taller than the doorways, the end of the beds hit him at the knees, if his head was completely against the headboard, his knees tilted tables so that he tipped them over, and chairs frequently broke under his size and weight. Of course, it was still a chore to make clothes for him as well, and most horses shied away from now, so he rode into battle not upon a horse, but drawn in massive chariot pulled by four great plough horses. Nothing ever truly fit Amlodd.... .... .... save Prince Rhys. Amlodd wasn't sure how it was possible, but Rhys would slide down, taking Amlodd's mighty rod all the way to his globe like balls. It seemed that Rhys never tired of Amlodd and his great physique. Every night all Amlodd had to do was to bounce a pec here or pop a bicep there, or let his trews drop and let his staff sway. Within a heart beat Rhys was there, climbing him to reach his mouth and kiss him, clinging to his neck, groping his shoulders, cupping his pecs, pinching and sucking his nipples, sucking or squeezing his biceps and upper arm, tracing his abs, grasping his buttocks, caressing his thighs, following the contour of his hamstrings, kneading his calves, massaging and comparing his feet or hands, combing his chest hair with fingers, or stroking, sucking, or sitting on his colossal cock. The pair were frequently late for morning breakfast and meetings because Prince Rhys usually had to perform all these actions and he took his time doing so, sometimes even stopping and waiting, reducing Amlodd the giant to moaning and tears. During festival times, Rhys would work Amlodd up for several nights in a row and then leave him hanging and on the last evening of the festival, perform the ritual of caressing again and then Either shimmy his ass slowly and bouncing down Amlodd's royal scepter or take his average prick and fuck Amlodd's mighty anaconda until Amlodd screamed and roared in ecstasy. It's been said they have broken five beds, up to ten tables, and nearly a gross of chairs, and those festival nights, Amlodd fills at least two chamber pots completely full, but not with piss or poo. It is this they have used to impregnate the "Proxy Queen", a fair lass selected by both Rhys and Amlodd to be the surrogate mother for their child... make that children. All of them strapping young lads who matched in height, if not stood taller than their father Rhys by the age of eleven, and sometimes given to small bursts of growth, probably due to small ones Amlodd continued to have. Yes.... no one is exactly sure how long it took, or how much size Macson gave still to Amlodd. He was able to live decently and alone after selling the jewels that were once incrusted into his goblet, but oh he still had an attitude. A man here, a young lad there, he still threatened and picked fights, becoming more and more upset and jealous because these fights left him smaller and weaker than before. Of course there were the few who came back hoping to gain more height and strength from Macson, only to be extremely pissed when they didn't grow again and took it out on him. The royal family wasn't sure how long it took before Macson caused his own disappearance, but they guess he killed at least three men in his fights from the size Amlodd had grown, which in turn affected his son's growth. The local townsfolk say that the last time they saw Macson Roderick was at a tavern one festival night. He had ordered his usual large tankard of ale which he could barely hold let alone consume. His stature having shrunk so small, this tankard alone was enough to make him a rude angry drunk and picking an unwarranted fight with three men. They say he stumbled home that night only to discover that he was now so short he couldn't even reach the door handle to his house. As he cried and pounded on his door in frustration, there was a blinding flash and he was faced by Queen Ifanna who took him into the fairy realm with him screaming and kicking. And those folks who live in the woods warn travelers that Macson still didn't learn for he came in as one of the biggest fairies that night, but now there are a band of fairies that stand nearly two feet tall and poor Macson now sits in a fairy sized bird cage, a pet to Queen Ifanna. And that's the story of how our fair kingdom came to be ruled by a giant, mountain of a man. Some took him for a fool, a real fool, but he grew into a powerhouse! And now only a fool would attack our fair kingdom and Kings Rhys and Amlodd, for not only is Amlodd a huge and powerful man to contend with, but their five sons are all grown now and mountainous giant each in their own right, equal to the size of their father, if not a wee bit bigger. If you ever want to see what gods look like in all their glory, it's nearly sun rise now, and that near hidden path leads to Loch Cyhyrau, the loch where the royal baths are built over and almost every morning at dawn you can see Kings Rhys and Amlodd and their five sons: Glanmor Foawr, Drystan Famhair, Efrog Arafa, Kyledyr Fathach, Caswallawn Cawr, and their five husbands, taking a bath.... amongst other things.
  11. Bauqbinder

    Magician of the Nerds

    Magician of the Nerds Part I: High School Matt glanced around the locker room to see if he was alone. Then he flicked open the letter with his thumb: “Great Morndas upon you P.A. Matthew O’Leary, Our best wishes to you and your family at the start of your new year. This birthday, marking the end of your 18th year, now classifies you as Proto-Apprentice. You may perform any spells on this day, or any other birthday for the next four years until your 22nd birthday, upon which time you will be promoted to full Apprentice. As you are an underage magician, we remind you that you are forbidden to perform magic outside your home or Spelling Designated Areas (for examples of SDAs, please go to our website at https://www.spellinglawandyou.mp/SDA) on any other day except these birthdays, and that Public Practice and Civilian Protection laws are perpetually in place and will be enforced to the Code’s full extent by the Magic Detection Agency (MDA). Any P.A. magician, should they not follow these guidelines, will undergo full Minor Council Review resulting in possible promotion postponement and/or mystic mentorship. Have a great year. The Council at Avalon, The Fire within suffers no Shadows” Matt grimaced and folded the letter back in his bag before stuffing the bag in his locker. Bureaucratic shits, he thought (Matt picked up this term from his Mom), it’s not like they’re even on the same continent anyway. There were separate magical governments across the Atlantic from each other, in Britain and America. Both worked directly with their respective nations’ non-magical governments, but also adhered directly to the wisdom of the Council at Avalon. It was bullshit, cause the only way to get to Avalon for years was through Britain. Things have changed a bit. They were all still bureaucratic shits though. He took out his black basketball shorts, netted and a little short, and slipped it on over each leg. Matt hadn’t ever heard of a Proto-Apprentice actually getting into trouble on their Spelling Day, anyway. Maybe a zap on the wrist, but nobody was shit enough to send a teenager to the Council for a minor infringement. Still, Matt wished he didn’t have to limit himself at all. Spelling Day was great and he’d waited seventeen years for it, but it didn’t excite him nearly as much as it did when he was younger. Matt reached back in his locker and took out his gym shirt, and by gym shirt it was the uniform of his favorite Tweeding team, the Hudson Valley Bulls (though most of his family still prescribed to the Charles River Serpents, much to Matt’s rivalry). Matt could make out his team’s uniform anywhere: the smooth, sturdy material, the bold maroon color with the golden horned lining along the sleeves and neck hole, the Hudson Valley Tweeding Club’s crest over one chest, the Nike’s check on the other, and the white lettering that spelt out “Hudson Valley Bulls” in a proud and elegant font. To Matt, it meant fierce magicians battling it out with spells and brute force in raging river waters. To his classmates, it just looked like a hipster rugby team. He put the jersey over his head and put an arm through each whole. It finally fit well over his average body type after spending years being two sizes too big. The material felt good hugging his body and reminded him of growing up, when all his friends were from other Spelling families. They’d play games or wander into the back woods and imagine themselves older and grown, graduated from Avalon’s School and fixing the world with their powers. Or playing professional Tweeding with crowds and crowds of cheering friends. That was a long time ago. It felt like it at least. Spelling families tended to cluster together, and although they remained in the same community, Matt had drifted away from the friend pack. They all waved to him in the halls and they hung out now and then, but they weren’t his friends. Not his best ones at least. Matt slammed his locker door after he finished changing into his gym clothes. A whiff of stink went up his nose. He raised an arm and sniffed. Yup, that’s B.O. He put his left hand out and faced his palm towards his torso. Then he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. He rang the words clearly and loudly in his mind: Impartis Oduro. A gentle breeze then hit his skin and a pleasant but nondescript scent filled the space around him and clung to his jersey shirt. Much better, he thought. He grinned now that he finally tried his magic in public. That spell he’d learned from his old babysitter. Gabe was a Spelling boy from Pennsylvania who joined their neighborhood a decade ago. With no relatives in Connecticut he had needed support, so the O’Leary’s hired him immediately and employed him consistently for years. He’d taught Matt some Spells every now and then, whether Matt’s parents had wanted Gabe to or not. Odd jobs and tricks and domestic chores were Matt’s main Spelling repertoire. He’d always had an affinity for Morphology, though. At a young and astounding age, his parents would find him playing with mysteriously long-tailed squirrels or fat and flightless birds. They’d scold him but also sit in wonder, their little toddler performing low-level metamorphosis spells with natural skill. And without knowing the spells themselves. His parents had told him to keep quiet about his talents. They hadn’t wanted him to hurt anybody, or have anybody hurt him because of it. ‘Special gifts’ in the magic community weren’t always accepted easily. The Council tended to be… Conservative. The locker room door banged open. Wiley Carter walked in and shrugged his bag off at his locker. He gave a nod and wave to Matt, which Matt returned. They kept to themselves. Wiley was smart and quick and funny, but quiet. He played Runescape with Matt in Middle School, but now they only talked in class and shuffled home at the end of the day. His hair was dark and straight, cut short on the sides and the back, and little longer on top, pushed to the side. He had an average frame but skinny limbs, a product of his gamer life and fast teenage metabolism. He had deep brown eyes, if Matt remembered correctly. He changed into his gym clothes too, slipping on small white shorts and a blue sleeveless under-armor. His face was pleasant, handsome even. He was a good-looking guy, under the radar and underrated. The locker room door boomed open again, this time followed by voices. Blair Callum rounded the corner with his buddies, Sanjay Tran, and Jonah Walton. “Watch it bro,” Jonah shouldered into Wiley as the group passed. They chuckled and snickered. “Can’t wait for Saturday, dude,” Sanjay piped up. “I’m so fucking ready, it’s gonna be lit man,” Jonah slipped off his shirt and banged on his locker. It bounced open. “If no one lame shows up,” Blair grumbled. Sanjay and Jonah over-enthusiastically agreed. Sanjay slid on some gym shorts, “Man, no one knows about it except Marnie’s squad and the team, right?” “I don’t fucking know, party rumors spread,” Blair’s head glared towards Wiley. Matt caught himself staring and twitched his head back to his locker. Blair was a douchebag. And it was even more annoying cause he was a handsome and athletic douchebag. His dusty blonde hair looked perfectly and nauseatingly preppy matched with his jeans and fitting short-sleeve button down. He had a douchey smile and an overall sense of douchebaggity elitism. It was all so attractive, and Matt hated that. “Hey Carter, you want to get some girls drunk?” Matt looked back and saw Jonah, “You looking to get in on this, eh?” Wiley ignored him and fiddled with his bag. “Hey bro, I’m talking to you. If you’re so interested in our conversation, join it… BRO!” “No thanks.” Wiley didn’t even turn back. Jonah and Sanjay cackled. “Fucking queer,” Sanjay slapped Jonah’s ass. “I’m not gay. It doesn’t matter, but I’m not. It shouldn’t matter,” Wiley lifted an eyebrow in their direction. Blair stood up. Matt rolled his eyes. “You think so?” Blair glared at Wiley, who looked away, “Who the fuck are you to decide that?” Blare was menacingly direct. And close, now standing behind the nerd. Wiley didn’t want anything to do with him. Matt heard a crash as Blair thrust his large hand on to a locker, next to Wiley’s head. Wiley didn’t flinch. Matt’s heart was beating faster now. “You may want to rethink your liberal bullshit for a second before this locker becomes your face.” The pit in Matt’s stomach burned and twisted. He was angry, for Wiley and for himself. He wanted Blair to be pummeled; he wanted to contort him, to shrink and shatter him. He wanted to wipe all the smug douche cockery off his face on to the ground and twist his head to look the other way. But he couldn’t break the rules. Not on his first day. “You gonna fucking say something, queer sucker?” Wiley sighed, “The locker becoming my face doesn’t make sense and you have irrational anger problems.” Blair fumed and had death in his eyes. Matt’s thoughts raced, faster than ever before. The world must’ve stopped outside. The only thing Matt knew is that he couldn’t hurt Blair with magic. There wasn’t even a spell he knew that was violent like that. There wasn’t going to be any attacking. But there was Wiley. Matt fixed his eyes on the scrawny boy in blue. His body was weak, but his shoulders were back and proud facing the lockers and his mind was sharp, waiting and watching for Blair over his shoulder. His pale face had a determinedly sad expression. It was a scowl, in disappointment, muttering the same questions that ran through Matt’s head. Why do they get to do this to us? Why do we have to live with this? Matt’s mouth was dry. His eyelids shut and air flowed in and out of his lungs. His mind cleared and the tingling on his neck reminded him there wasn’t much more time to waste. Instead of tears, fire lit in his eyes. He drove his passion into the energy around him and focused it at Wiley. Almost like a prayer, he willed it to fill him with strength, and agility, and confidence, and a fiery vigor to fight. Matt didn’t know what he was doing, mind you. He didn’t know if it would miraculously help, or if it was idiotic for a Proto-Apprentice to try to do magic like this without using a spell. And maybe it wouldn’t help him. Maybe it’d hurt him. Wiley took in a sharp breath and shuddered. His fingers clutched tightly to his bag. His body fidgeted a few times, almost like it were crackling and overloading with energy. Blair took back his hand, his expression softening then contorting again in confusion. Then Wiley’s limbs creaked, somehow becoming longer. His legs stretched nob by nob, and his arms grew along with his torso. “What the-?” Blair stepped away. Wiley’s breath continued to flutter, but his throat grunted. Low and resonate. His calves looked to be engorged with blood. In fact his whole body looked… Tight. Matt’s own breathe shook, but he kept on staring at Wiley, staying quiet. Then Wiley’s calves pulsed once. Then twice. Then they twitched and suddenly starting growing in size. The tendons and striations all along his legs tightened and inflated. It sent grunts of pleasure from his throat. They grew and filled his shorts, pushing the fabric higher up his legs. His ass clenched and slowly bubbled up, each bump smooth and curved and hard. Matt was staring and directing all his energy towards Wiley, but his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. A thick wave rippled up Wiley’s backside and packed lean brawn behind his arms and all the way around his shoulders blades. His shirt stretched around the mass. Bulk filled his shoulders and spread down his arms, leaving engorged and hard muscles in its wake. His biceps twitched with strength and flowed with energy down his forearms to his fists. His hands even looked engorged, grasping his bag tighter and tighter. Suddenly, his shoulders jerked back and his chest stretched in his tank, growing into two solid and perky slabs. The motion tore a rip in the bag, but his hands stayed clutching to it. Then his entire body convulsed before falling forward into the lockers. Matt, dizzy and impassioned, tripped over to Wiley who turned over and rested his back on the lockers. Matt felt his cock twitch with recognition of the view. Wiley still looked like Wiley. His face even looked around the same age. But he was a huge Wiley, with tight thin skin and bulgingly full muscles that pressed his pulsing veins harshly to the surface. His color was a healthy tint of red; Matt could sense blood was flowing in and out of every crevice of his body and mind. It flowed fast but not too much so, like an engine revving and humming with life. “What the fuck is this shit man?” “Dude, dude we gotta go.” Blair stood staring, confused and enraged. His buddies tried hitting him, to wake him from his disbelief, but they ran off. “You okay?” Matt blathered to Wiley, who was taking deep breaths, his chest heaving up and down. It stared Matt in the face, asserting its shape through the stretched under-armor tank. Wiley merely nodded. “What happened?” a voice said. Matt turned and saw Blair looking at him. Blair took a fast step forward and grabbed Matt’s shirt, lifting him to his feet, “What did you do??” Matt just stared at him, still catching his breath, terrified and awed at what just happened. He suddenly wished he gave himself some size too. “Let go of his shirt.” Matt sucked in a breath and thought he felt Blair shudder too. The voice entered his ear and resonated through his blood, thickly to his dick, which swelled larger in his gyms shorts. Blair noticed. “What is- ? I-. I didn’t know there were two of you here, two fucking queers. Yeah, a queer lover and his perverted scamp,” Blair spat the words and shook Matt in frustration and disgust. A blurry fist whistled past Matt’s ear and struck Blair squarely on the side of the face. Blair let out a wheezing noise and fell straight to the floor. He started to pull Matt down with him, but Matt felt hands grab both his shoulders and hold him in place. Matt looked down at Blair. He was knocked-out cold. “Fuck.” The voice rumbled in Matt’s loins again and vibrated in his hardening nipples. He raised an eyebrow and grinned, enjoying the sensation. “Matt?” He turned to face Wiley, and suddenly his dick was a steel rod. Wiley was standing directly in front of Matt. Where once Matt was a half head taller than Wiley, they now stood practically eye-to-eye. Wiley seemed to have the slight edge, and his body was packed with hard bulges of muscles and thick tendons. All of them were flexing. His sleeveless tank clung to his chest and his rocky stomach, which moved in and out with slow, measured breaths. He stood there with clenched fists poised to fight and wide eyes. Crap, Matt’s mouth dropped open, I turned him into a god! Not a nerd, but Wiley: the God! Wiley: the Masterpiece!! Matt knew he’d done impressive Morphology in the past, but never on a human. Never something like this. Matt smiled and put his hands up in reassurance, “Everything’s okay.” Wiley didn’t budge, except for turning his fist a little more towards Matt’s direction. There wasn’t much space between them. He clenched his jaw and it was handsome and terrifying. “He was right, what did you do?” Wiley’s eyes glared at him now, but Matt barely registered it. He was too distracted by the sound of his voice. It was Wiley’s, but it rang deeper and commanding. It was as if his vocal chords were slowly, roughly rubbing together and resonating the sound of manhood and sex through the air. It rang out again, concerned: “Is he okay?” Matt shook from his trance. Wiley was glancing nervously around Matt’s shoulder. Matt turned to look and saw Blair lying still on the ground like stone, “I don’t know. You punched him,” he turned back, shrugging. “Do you think you broke anything?” “No. Maybe? I haven’t punched someone before!” “Well, you did a pretty good job…” “How are you so calm about this, dude?” Wiley yelped. Matt heard something desperate amongst the dick-throbbing sounds of his voice. Wiley’s head ticked to the side and back, and individual muscles twitched and bulged. “I’m freaking out here man,” he twitched again and his eyes closed, “I can feel... Fucking everything. I can feel every inch, every microscopic spot on my skin pulled tight over everything.” He grunted, still twitching but somehow more intentionally, stretching and flexing. His neck craned to the side and his traps bulged. Matt grunted with him. He couldn’t stop himself, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Wiley wriggled around in his body. His brow was furrowed still very seriously, but now with a touch of curiosity. “And underneath,” he tensed everything. Things rippled. “I can feel all the blood flowing through,” he breathed in sharply, “flowing and filling up…” He bent his arms and brought his fists up to his shoulders, scrunching his biceps into baseballs. He lowered his arms, grunting, and did it again. And again. He was pumping his arms, but Matt thought he saw all of his muscles tense and squeeze, not just his biceps. Like his muscles were taking a breath each time he pumped his arms. “I can feel every string and cell busting at the seems. I feel… Full.” “You look it.” Wiley’s eyes shot open and looked right at Matt. He stopped moving, but remained flexed and tensed. Matt sighed, “Listen, Blair was being a douche. He was gonna beat on you, and then he was gonna beat on me, so… We beat on him together.” Wiley lowered his arms, relaxing, “We?” Matt gave a shaky nod and a knowing look and awkwardly gestured towards all of the muscles. Wiley hesitated, glancing down at his fists and pumped arms and stretched clothing. His shorts hugged his legs and did nothing but accentuate the throbbing bulge that came to life. He squirmed awkwardly, “So…” “So, I did all of that to you. The arms, the chest, the height, the dick apparently, the voice– “ “The punch?” “No, my friend. That was you. Let’s say I gave you the tools. You hammered in the nails, hard! Just in time to save me, too!” Wiley narrowed his eyes, making a connection, “You’re a Mystic. Aren’t you?” Matt searched for words. All that came was, “Well… Err, yeah.” “But I’ve known you since like fourth grade!” “Yeah, well, we keep to ourselves.” Wiley scrunched his eyebrows, remembering something, “We played video games together.” “Yeah, so?” “Do Mystics play video games?” Matt chuckled, “We’re not Amish, dude. We just cast spells. We don’t forego technology and other earthly desires. I don’t at least.” Wiley smiled, and it punched Matt in the heart. It faded as he looked back down at himself. He was finally relaxed, but everything still bulged. Not like a roided out body-builder, but like a meaty high-school wrestler whose skin was suctioned on and muscles were bulging to their largest capacity. Like he could dominate as a junior Olympian, or maybe as a new recruit in the real thing. He was in perfect Wiley physical condition. He placed his palms on his stomach and felt its bumps under his shirt. He slid his palms up his body and wrapped his paws around his meaty, ballooned pecs. “I’ve never seen someone spell something like this before.” Neither have I. “I don’t have much experience on humans. Though, you came out pretty damn well.” Wiley looked up at Matt and smiled again, “Well, what’d you actually do to me?” Good question. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I didn’t spell anything specific, just pushed everything I had at you. I’m pretty naturally gifted in Morphology, so…” Wiley’s hands wandered to his butt and he squeezed it, “It all feels so real.” “It is.” “It actually feels like I’ve worked these to death for years,” he cupped a bicep with his hand as he flexed it, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” And then he was moaning, and feeling all the bumps and valleys that stretched out of his skin. His thumbs felt his nipples and his body shuddered at the touch. His fingers traced the spaces between his abs right down to the thick bulge in his shorts. He hesitated and then grabbed the whole thing with one large hand. He squeezed and lifted his chin up as he growled. “Fuck, “ he put his other hand behind his head and just stood there, lathering himself in the sensation of his own touch. Matt had never been more turned on in his life. He’d only just realized he was gay recently. He hadn’t had time to have any experience or even figure out what he liked. Although in this moment, he could tell he liked Wiley. Especially with how close he was; the way everything looked crafted to perfection, his skin smooth over hard bulges of strength, his open mouth releasing grunts that tingled Matt’s neck hairs and nipples, his handsome face and prominent jawline. He exuded confidence. He exuded manliness. It was as if his entire body was erect and juiced in swimming masculine energy. Like he could do anything. And feel anything. Matt felt a groan leave his own throat as his hand sheepishly fingered at his dick through his pants. Wiley opened his eyes and grinned at him. “This is a strange side effect.” Matt froze. “Don’t stop... I like that you like it,” Wiley squeezed his bulge again. He bit his lower lip and squinted his eyes that stared at Matt. Matt hesitated, “You said you weren’t gay?” “I don’t give a fuck about that. Right now, I like that you like it. You’re turned on by what you made. A mad scientist gazing on his Frankenstein, and you even come complete with the messy hair and spectacles. Not to mention the cute, well-meaning expression on your face. It’s sexy.” Wiley’s eyes gazed intensely into Matt’s. Matt was stunned, hand still on his dick. He readjusted his glasses reflexively and stammered through his thoughts. “You’re too pretty to be Frankenstein,” he said quietly. Wiley’s laugh rumbled soft and deep. “You might as well admit it, you’ve made a monster,” he whispered back, his face very close to Matt’s. Matt shook his head and grinned slyly. “I’ve made such a fucking man.” Their faces were inches away. They were both taking soft and shallow breaths, staring each other down with evident hunger. “Touch it,” Wiley breathed. Matt glanced down, “Touch what?” “Any of it.” The words whispered into his ear. His dick dinged to life again and he felt compelled to take Wiley up on the offer. Wiley closed his eyes, brows up expectantly. Matt didn’t know where to begin. He wanted to touch all of it. Was there a weird place to touch him? There couldn’t be. But, did he say what he said but meant something else? Was Matt supposed to default to something? Was Matt supposed to suck his dick? Wiley peeked an eye open, “There a problem?” Matt sighed and gave a smile like a shrug, “Yes, I think too much.” Wiley smirked. He snatched one of Matt’s hands and placed it on a pec. It was plump and heavy, even through the stretched material. Matt groaned. He squeezed it and felt the rock underneath and traced his thumb down to Wiley’s hard nipple. Wiley made a shuddery, grumbly noise. “Ooh, my god.” Matt smiled, “Feels good?” “You have no idea,” Wiley grinned. Matt put his other hand on the other pec and gave another good squeeze. He was enthralled by them: their shape, their size, and their weight, how he could sense the power and strength underneath. Matt wondered what it must feel like to feel that power, to sense the weight of your body and its capability. “Damn,” Matt whispered. A strange sort of lust was taking over him. He felt it everywhere, filling his heart and his stomach, and his head and his dick, a feeling of raw tension. He was deeply attracted to Wiley, immensely attracted. He wanted to feel Wiley’s entire body under his hands and smash his lips against his own and also figure out something to do with his dick, cause he had an impulse to move his hips towards Wiley’s and rub their clearly equally throbbing erections together. But there was another feeling. It made him hesitate and his body tense. He stopped squeezing Wiley’s chest and looked up at his face. His eyes were still closed on his handsome face, lost in a world of pleasure. Matt spread his fingers out and slowly ran his hands over Wiley’s chest to his shoulders and down his arms. Matt’s fingers latched onto Wiley’s triceps, and his thumbs could barely fit around his biceps. Matt tightened his grip and growled. He lifted Wiley’s shirt and moved his hands over Wiley’s abs with an unbreakable focus. He traced his fingers along the hard bumps, admiring how they crushed together to make an impenetrable wall over his stomach. His hands wandered around Wiley’s hips and found the two smooth bumps of his ass. Matt squeezed his fingers around the meat and both he and Wiley moaned. With some awkward effort, Matt shimmied his hips closer to Wiley’s. Despite his blatant urge to be forceful, he was still tentative and hesitant. He was confused by his thoughts. Standing there clutching Wiley’s muscled ass, Matt couldn’t figure out if he liked it cause it was there and it was Wiley’s, or if it was cause he wanted it for himself. He realized the deep lust he felt was getting infected with a bubbling envy. The mixture of hormones and emotions intoxicated his brain, and he mindlessly thrust his groin at Wiley’s groin and rubbed and squeezed and thrust and moaned. Wiley growled right along with him, and put his own hands around Matt’s average but eager ass, grasping on to the material of his basketball shorts. Both of their eyes opened and focused on each other. They stood, their hips locked together, swaying and rubbing to a gentle rhythm. “Wow,” Wiley growled. He put his forehead on Matt’s, “What a sexy mad scientist you are.” “I think this magic’s more of an art than a science,” Matt smiled, “At this point, it’s definitely not precise enough.” “Fine, crazy artist it is,” Wiley laughed. Matt felt the rumble come from Wiley’s chest and cascade down his torso. It sizzled at their groins and fireworks blasted in Matt’s mind. “And you’re a masterpiece,” Matt whispered, massaging his fingers on Wiley’s ass. Their dicks pressed together like hot metal iron rods. Matt thought about the magic that created this moment. It wasn’t anything he learned or calculated. It was fueled by his emotion and passion and steered by his will and, apparently, powerful enough to transform Wiley into the meathead that was currently doing very well in a game of swordfight between Matt’s and his dicks. He was thick and solid and powerful, and so fucking attractive. Matt wanted all of him. He wanted him there, attached to him, pressing their bodies into one, on top of him, around him, sharing every inch of each other. He wanted to feel Wiley and to feel what Wiley felt. And he wanted to feel thick and solid and powerful, too. He wanted to know what his body was capable of, and what he was capable of. Matt and Wiley moaned. Then, Matt gasped. He was breathing in steady, shallow breathes and electricity sparkled in his groin. One spark sputtered down to his toes and another went up and into his brain, both of them zapping pleasure around everywhere. It flashed images in his mind of himself with Wiley, both looking like men: scruff on their face, youth in their eyes, strength permeating their very veins. But no, they weren’t just images in his mind; That man existed. Matt could feel he was real. He could feel the power within his bones, and could feel as it flooded the spaces throughout his body, instantly and completely understanding what Wiley meant by his body feeling full. The energy escaped through his every pore and flashed brilliantly around him, his body suddenly heavy, steaming with sweat and magic, his clothes pulled tight and damp around his thighs, and his ass, and his chest, and his arms, and his shoulders, and behind his shoulder, and below that on his back, and everywhere that wasn’t his, apparently flat and hard, stomach. Wiley groaned, and Matt opened his eyes. At first it looked like Wiley was flexing all of his body extremely hard, but Matt realized his arms were too thick, his chest was too giant, and his shoulders were too wide for him to be the same size as before. Matt grew him… again. Matt heard another groan behind him. He spun his head around to see Blair grumbling on the ground still asleep. He didn’t seem injured at all, but there was no mistaking the body on the ground now was larger than it was before, and it wasn’t too small to begin with. All Matt could see was a tremendous butt, a set of thick and round thighs, two slabs of a backside, and full and meaty triceps. On second thought, he decided he could see a good deal. “What’s happened?” Matt’s face flushed. The tone of his voice rang deeper and echoed in Matt’s body even longer than before. He turned his head back and saw Wiley looking confused and earnest and full of lust. He was fucking handsome as ever, peering into Matt’s eyes. Even his jaw muscle looked like it had gained size, giving a manly square look to match the stubble that dusted his face. Matt smiled and shrugged heavy shoulders. He adjusted his glasses and felt his own stubble rub against his hand. “I’ve done it again,” he put simply. Matt felt his own voice rumble from his chest. He was turned on to feel its power vibrate through his body’s bulk. He felt his hard nipples rub against the material of the Tweeding jersey and he rolled his eyes at the sensation. It felt amazing to be so big, to feel all his bulk bulging out of his old jersey. He was practically bursting through it. His pecs sprang hard and round from his chest, and they felt full and alive. His sleeves fought hard against his arms, the bulging bits of muscle all contending for a spot to be seen. His shoulders were broad and Matt stood there like they were always supposed to be like that. The maroon of the Hudson Valley Bulls was everywhere, conformed to the shape of his body. Matt’s basketball shorts were practically disappearing under the onslaught of magical muscle growth. Matt had always possessed strong, decent sized legs, so after the blast they inflated into bulging masses of brawn. His shorts stretched and scrunched around his wide thighs and achingly bulbous ass. Matt tried to feel the weight of his entire body and breathed in the sensation. Then he flexed everything and felt energy and blood rush into it all. It felt like he had been upgraded. Or that he evolved into a more powerful form. Everything was him but different, larger and capable of more. Wiley was having trouble speaking, looking, and feeling at the same time, “You did it again, but this is different. This is you, too… You’re… You’ve transformed into your superhero persona!” The two of them laughed together, sounding like rumbles of happiness. “I think you better take a look at yourself too, Superman. You’ve got a little more size going on there,” Matt bit his lip, looking at all of Wiley reluctantly. Wiley followed Matt’s gaze and his mouth dropped open, “Sorry if you didn’t want it, I told you this magic was erratic, and I didn’t even know I was casting anything at the time…” Wiley sputtered as he took in his size, “You- You didn’t say anything about it b-being erratic. M-maybe imprecise, but not erratic, not like this! I’m fucking huge, dude!” He indeed was fucking huge. The magic that transformed Matt must’ve blasted out like a bomb, with Wiley in direct line of fire, and Blair not too far from it, and now they were all huge. From what he could see, it didn’t seem like any of Matt’s limbs changed length after the blast, though. So it wasn’t surprising to see that Wiley’s arms and legs hadn’t extended like they had the first time. Instead, each of Wiley’s muscles had simply inflated larger, bulkier, and brawnier. They had already been the size of a high school All-star’s, but now they looked like the broad and gritty muscles of a Tweeding pro-athlete, or even more like an ancient warrior from Merlin’s time. They looked experienced and they oozed raw strength. Everything rippled and bunched together. Each cable of amplified beef was grown by magic, and hummed with pure strength and hungered for action. Wiley was too distracted for action though. He tried cupping his mammoth pecs, but his paws weren’t big enough. Instead he ran them all along his body, loving the way his under armor tank clung to him like a second skin. He could even trace his abs bulging through the material. “I’m not sure I can face my parents like this, but… Damn, dude. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I like it at least a little,” Wiley grinned and winked at Matt before striking a double biceps pose. It was all so sudden. His arms bunched up into softballs, his forearms thick and throbbing, his chest raised proudly in the air, and newly widened lats sprang up under his arms. Matt caught himself drooling. “It’s unreal,” Wiley relaxed and reflexed multiple times, “It’s fucking unbelievable.” Matt felt a growl escape from his chest. Wiley turned his head to him, eyes piercing. He reciprocated a snarl and showed some canine teeth, his arms still raised and bulging at his sides. Matt nudged his face into Wiley’s neck and Wiley rubbed his stubble on to Matt’s cheek. Then Wiley’s thick arms wrapped around Matt’s body. His hands clutched the new ripples of beef that bulged from Matt’s back. Matt groaned and pushed the muscled nerd into the lockers. His glasses fell to the floor and he kicked them roughly away to avoid stepping on them. Matt felt an impulse take over, an animal within him awaken. He could tell magic was bubbling in him again; the feeling seemed so obviously distinct now. Matt’s shorts were so scrunched up that he wrapped his practically bare legs around the outside of Wiley’s thick trunks. He planted his feet firmly to the ground, clenching his ass for support. Their hips came together like magnets, like their dicks really were metal and had to rub against each other by the order of the laws of physics themselves. Matt didn’t know how it all worked; He hadn’t taken Mystiphysics classes yet. The cobble stone roads on their stomachs rubbed against each other and as they both moaned, Matt raised his hand behind Wiley’s head and smashed their lips together. Wiley urgently tightened his embrace and Matt grumbled like a dog. Suddenly, a monstrous groan echoed through the locker room. Matt and Wiley stopped mid-snog. Their breathing was heavy and their bodies stuck together. Movement from the corner of both their eyes caught their attentions. They sprang apart and faced the figure on the ground with a fighting stance. Their mouths dropped open immediately. Blair was on his hands and knees, attempting to get up, and his ass was facing directly at the two nerds. An enormous and glorious ass. Blair hadn’t changed into any gym clothes yet, so his hot-air ballooned glutes fought with all their might to be seen in his denim jeans. His thighs too were bulging tightly, his entire legs thick with exploded muscle. Matt sighed, breathing out more contradicting emotions than he could count, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Blair groaned again, stirring from a moment’s rest. He shuffled one foot underneath his heavy body. Then another. Now his butt was really sticking in the air. He let out a grumbling and hissing noise as he pushed himself off the ground and straightened his back. He clearly was dizzy from the punch and from getting knocked out, but he also looked… Uncomfortable. His collared shirt wrapped around bulges of contorted muscle. His arms stretched his short sleeves to an aching extent; Matt could tell they hung on by a thread. It was Blair’s slanted shoulders and shifting backside that kept Matt’s attention, though. Blair grumbled, annoyed like a sleeping bear. Suddenly there was a Pop! Matt flinched but saw Blair’s collar flick and a shiny button fling to the side. It crashed into a locker and sent an echo through the room. Blair froze, looking down at his chest. Like he’d waken up from a nightmare and was smashed in the face by a fucking amazing surprise. A grumble came soft and low from Blair. In a split-second crescendo it became a roar as he forced his shoulders back, sticking them out wide and proud. A pair of buttons smacked the lockers in a clanging duet. His arms ripped through the threads of his sleeves, and his legs followed with long tears in his jeans by his thighs. Blair let out a pleased grunt, like he was breathing properly for the first time. Matt didn’t blame him for his discomfort. He made a mental note that it was lucky he was wearing decently stretchable clothing. Matt wondered how to best approach this situation, what with the high-school hulk being prone to anger and all. “G’morning douchewad!” Matt’s eyes went wide for a moment and he glanced nervously at Wiley before turning to watch the brute react. “What are you doing?!” Matt whispered harshly. “I’m fucking with him.” “He’s huge! Why do you want to fuck with him?” Wiley smirked, “Cause he’s huge and I wanna fuck with him…” In a daze, Blair turned his hulking mass around. Matt allowed himself to close his eyes and breath. His fear dissipated immediately. “You both want to explain this?” Matt’s eyes bolted open and feasted on the speaker. His tongue salivated. Indeed, Blair was the Blonde Brute. He was tall before and he was tall now. His muscles looked like bulges of marble, inflated from the inside like blown glass would be. His shoulders made no contest of the tattered sleeves of his shirt and were as bold and mighty as the biceps that bulged from his arms. His chest rippled in the shadows of his torn open shirt. The boulders that were now his abdominal muscles made occasional appearance over his highest surviving button. His size was astounding. His bright colored eyes pierced from the face of Prince Charming, dimple and all. Most lovely was the night stick Blair was apparently keeping tucked in his jeans. It was quite thick, and long. Matt narrowed his eyes. And it was clearly hard and erect. “You got pulled into some magic. You’re welcome,” Wiley played confidently. Matt elbowed him. Blair closed his own eyes and tensed his body. Everything bulged. “This is some fucked with magic,” his smooth voice was accusing and yet… “I exploded,” Matt felt Blair’s gaze on him, “I- I mean, my magic exploded. Everywhere. I don’t really know what happened.” “Well you better figure it out and undo it! People are gonna think I juiced up. There’s no way this is allowed in a Division I school.” “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like it’s a chemical. It’s probably undetectable!” Wiley slipped in. “Ere…” Matt grumbled. “Also, don’t even try to lie about liking it. I see that bulge in your pants…” Matt was stunned. Wiley was being so forward. Matt watched Blair’s face redden. “It’s okay, our dicks have been going for a while now too,” Matt offered, unsure if Wiley upset him. Another rumble sounded low in Blair. He took deep breaths through his nose. His hands suddenly grabbed the open sides of his shirt and mercilessly tore through the rest of the buttons and ripped the threads cleanly from his bulging body. His fingers found the tears in his jeans and nudged inside for a proper grip. Then, denim was flying everywhere and Blair’s legs were released from their restraints. He looked hand-crafted by an artisan sculpture. He looked like a classic representation of Zeus. Only younger. In his true prime. Blair groaned and ripped the last of the clothes from his body. His underwear flew and hit Wiley in the face. Matt chuckled at him, however briefly, before the sausage log of meat flopped out hard before them all. Blair merely roared and thick streams of cum sprang from his cock. The vibration sent both Wiley and Matt into uncontrollable orgasmic bliss. Their crotches filled with hot cream as the first jet of Blair’s shot hit the lockers with a bang. The second sailed through the air and hit Matt straight in the eye. “Agh! Wh-? Mm…” Matt tasted the cum and he felt it reinvigorate him. Blood rushed through his cock and his muscles and sent his body practically convulsing into further orgasm. And then it was over. The three of them there, and all that could be heard was the sound of their desperate gasps of relief. Matt stood hunched over, his hands on his knees. His mind was scrambled and he just focused on counting his breathing. In: One… Two… Three… Four… Out: One… Two- The locker room door slammed open and Matt could feel the shuffling of many heavy steps. “AlRIGHT boys. This ain’t funny. First you were late to class, and now I don’t know what pranks you’re trying to pull-.” Matt straightened up just in time to watch Mr. Royce turn the corner with the entirety of their male gym class in tow. It took Matt a moment before he realized: They were all bigger. Fuck. Mr. Royce crossed thick arms over his plump chest and tried not to look incapacitated when he noticed Blair immediately. Sanjay and Jonah stood behind Mr. Royce. Their muscles were pumped like they just finished a week-long work out. They clearly hadn’t grown as much as they would’ve had they been closer to the epicenter of the explosion, but they were pressing through their shirts impressively. The rest of the class stood behind them. And it was a wall of beef. No t-shirt was left un-stretched, no jaw left un-chiseled. Chandler Rocklin was thick and menacing in his polo shirt. Jimmy Nader busted his bicep through his long sleeve. Chase Newton was fucking sexy as fuck now that he had some meat on his bones. Matt stared in disbelief. What kind of fucking magician am I? “Well? Can any of you speak? Callum, put some clothes on...” Mr. Royce was struggling to maintain composure, but sounded authoritative enough. Wiley glanced down at the gym teacher’s crotch and smirked. “You sure you want him to do that?”
  12. Preface: This is my first time ever posting a story to the forums, or really even writing a muscle growth story at all. I apologize if there are any typo's or the like, I tried to proofread but you never know. I tried to give everything a nice, readable format. IF you see in glaring mistakes, let me know and I'll make some edits. I'd like to continue this story, maybe in the regular story forum, but I'm not sure if that's allowed with the storyversary rules. I guess it depends if anyone cares to read, anyway. But I don't mean to ramble. Enjoy! Jaw-Dropper by SMK (aka Matrival) Moving always means long, tiring days and sore muscles. At least, if you have anything to move. In that way, twenty-two year old Dylan was lucky to be moving halfway across the country with nothing more than a shoulder bag full of essentials; at least he didn’t have to haul furniture and boxes with him. He pulled up in front of his new place, a large if rather run-down house. The locals wouldn't have anything to do with it, but Dylan was practical. Who cares about urban myth when you have a large house, rooms to rent out, and a view. Not to mention the massive home gym, which means he could charge the local rich-boy jocks out the ass. Dylan was a skinny little thing, with small, but toned muscles. He had a cute fact with soft, boyish features and gray eyes that looked out from under blonde hair. Dylan came up to the front door and fiddled around for a key in his shoulder bag. He jams the let into the door, thin arms straining to push open a stuck lock. Stumbling in, Dylan regains his balance before shutting the door behind him. Looking around, there was a lot to be done. The ceiling was collapsed in, odd holes in the drywall, not to mention to filth. But this was all expected, And without hesitation Dylan pulled out a notebook and began taking inventory. Leisurely he strolled room to room until he turned to a rather large staircase leading down into the basement, boasting high ceilings and enough room for four men to walk down side by side. The staircase opened up to a brightly lit, and surprisingly massive, gym area with free weights and machines lining both sides of what was essentially a massive hallway. But only the first few rows are really usable, with everything beyond that reaching comically large proportions. Strength aside, you would be hard pressed to find a man who could sit comfortably on some of these benches, and those benches were still on the small end. Is this some weird art installment? Dylan wondered, taking notes on the state of the room. For such a well kept space, it was an absolute mess. Papers scattered all over the floor around the bar, the fridge was still filled to the brim by the previous resident; at least it was mostly still fresh, but the stench of rotten eggs is unforgiving. One of the pages caught his eye, labelled, “Jaw-Dropper,” followed by a relatively simple, if unconventional, recipe for a shake. Dylan pocketed the page, piling up the rest in his room upstairs so he could look through it later. As he continued his walk of the house, a cloud of smoke caught his attention, and he turned into a bedroom to see a young man laying on the floor, long sleeves and a hood pulled up over dark hair that hung carelessly, but perfectly, on his brow. He stared up at the ceiling, oblivious. Dylan, on the other hand, freaked, “Who the hell are you?” The other man jumped, climbing quickly to his feet as he stood up, and he just kept going up. Dylan found himself eye-level with a chest that looked a lot more broad than when it was laying on the ground. Dylan wasn’t a short man at 5’7”, but this guy must’ve been 6’10. The larger man glared down at Dylan, tensing as he crushed his cigarette into his massive paw of a hand, hardly feeling anything. “Jesus fuck! You scared the hell out of me!” His green eyes probed over the smaller man, who now looked like a deer in the headlights. “The fuck are you doing here?” Dylan was shaking, visibly intimidated by the wall of flesh that seemingly came from nowhere. “I-I bought the place,” he clenches his teeth, balling up his little fists and feigning confidence. “You’ll have to leave.” As he finishes, the larger man throws out a hand, wrapping thick fingers around to the backside of Dylan’s neck and lifting him up off his feet with seemingly no effort. Dylan’s eyes bulge,staring down in surprise at the biceps that strain against the fabric that once hid them, his own hands pawing at the forearm that now held him. Those biceps gotta be over twenty inches… Focus! Dylan Even through the fabric, he could feel the rock-hard, defined muscle that kept him up. Not to mention the scent, the heavy musk that seemed to now dominate the room. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his mind on the danger he was in. For a moment, Dylan lost all dignity, groping lustily at the arm that held him before reality came back in the form of the deep voice that rumbled the room. “Who the HELL do you think you are?” the larger man boomed, causing Dylan to cringe. “Some little twink brat is gonna come in here and tell ME what to do?” Dylan was back in a panic now, struggling against the grip of the stronger man, who tossed him carelessly to the side like a ragdoll before going over to the and stretching his hands upward until his fingertips touched the ceiling, revealing an impossibly thin waist and defined abs cobbled his stomach. Dylan sat off to the side, rubbing at his neck before sputtering pathetically, “I-I’m sorry, man. It's been a long day.” There was no telling if the man was listening, but Dylan continued. “Just got into town, you know? Long drive. You just surprised me is all.” “The name’s Aidan,” the man turns around suddenly, his loud voice making Dylan jump again. Aidan shuffled over towards Dylan, his massive vans thumping against the grown. He looked down over his chest at Dylan, who was still on the ground in the corner. “Oh, uh, I’m Dylan and I- ,” Dylan cuts off as Aidan grab him up off the floor by the scruff of his neck and throws him to the middle of the room, square on his back. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to-” Dylan begged, almost a whimper as Aidan planted a shoe, size 16, on his chest.the perfe “Listen, kid,” Aidan towered over Dylan, seeming to go up forever. “Do whatever you want wit the rest of the house, but this room,” he raises his arms in a massive wingspan. “This room is mine.” Dylan couldn’t help but stare, Aidan was as enticing as he was intimidating. Those lips, perfect shade, the perfect shape. That body, perfection he could only imagine. Rows of abs topped with big, round pecs. Massive shoulders that Dylan wasn’t sure would fit through a doorway. That small, V-shaped waist that just drove him wild. Aidan asks, “Got it?” but Dylan is long gone, marvelling at the massive foot that has him pinned to the floor, the intoxicating scent that made his head spin, and the growing lust that was making it harder and harder to concentrate by the second. Dylan’s thoughts drifted, dancing with the idea of climbing up the body before him, kissing every inch, experiencing every fiber of rock hard muscle… tugging down on that waistband and. “SPEAK!” Snapped back to reality, Dylan nodded his head vigorously. “Y-yes, Aidan, I’ll leave this room to you.” With a smile, the larger man lifted his foot, and the terrified Dylan scrambled back to his feet, backing himself up against the wall. As Aidan stomped out of the room, turning to the side and ducking under the doorframe, Dylan called after him. “Hey! Where’re you going?” Aidan answered dismissively, “Gym. You think all this just happens?” He flexes a bicep, straining his sleeve to its limits. It took all Dylan had to not start drooling. As much as he liked the idea of getting away from Aidan, the urge to watch was just too great. Dylan rushed to follow Aidan, having to jog to keep up with Aidan’s impossibly long strides. “You know there’s a gym in the house, right?” This got Aidan to stop in his tracks. His voice turned to a slight growl, carrying an air of dominance that Dylan just couldn’t resist. “Show me.” Dylan turned on a dime and marched obediently towards to staircase, down the massive flight, and unlocked the door, letting Aidan past as he was thrown to the side. “Well, god damn,” Aidan mused, looking on in awe of the machines and weights that seemed to extend back forever. He pointed to the counter, “Make me a drink, and I’ll let you watch.” Dylan didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling over to the bar. He quickly realized he had no idea what he was doing, and simply floundered around the counter trying to look busy. Aidan, on the other hand, wasted no time and racked up a bar with huge, heavy weights, much more than Dylan would know how to count, and slowly began to curl. With each rep, his biceps swelled further, pushing the sleeves of his dark hoodie closer and closer to the limit. An awestruck Dylan had his eyes glued to them, watching as he could start to make out large, bulging veins through the strained fabric. Aidan was grunting, his growls only growing louder with each rep until they were making Dylan’s eardrums rattle. As he began to work up a sweat, the intoxicating, masculine musk grew along with Dylan’s inability to focus. Dylan gave up on trying to figure out what to do on his own, and pulled the note out from his pocket. Quickly throwing the drink together, he threw it to Aidan who snatched the bottle deftly out of the air, chugging the entire batch in a few quick chugs. “GrrrrRRRAAAGH! WHAT WAS IN THAT, LITTLE MAN? I FEEL GREAT!” Dylan was thrown off balance by the sheer balance of his voice, which only made Aidan laugh as he returned to the rack, hefting up the weight again. HIs face grew red with exertion, sweat beading on his forehead as he pumped out curls. Dylan watched with great interest, hiding his swelling bulge behind the drink counter, but unable to pull his eyes away. With the next curl, there's a snap. Just one, faint as first. Aidan drops the weight with a clamorous CRASH and faces towards Dylan, dropping into a most muscular that left his clothing in tatters. It started at the shoulders, as the sleeves ripped across the back, revealing his still-growing lats. Then it was the sleeves themselves, the biceps popping open in the front before shredding apart into nothing completely. He must’ve been getting taller, because his jeans were riding up his calves, revealing massive, meaty diamonds of calves. Even the tough denim gives way to his swelling body, tearing, slowly at first, up the sides. Then the zipper began straining, forcing itself down lower and lower to try an accommodate Aidan’s swelling, ever-growing frame. He looks down at his frame, breathing heavy, “Ah, FUCK YES!” Dylan’s heart dropped down into his stomach. Aidan’s voice had grown deeper, more powerful and commanding. Fearing what would happen if Aidan got his hands on the recipe for the drink, Dylan tore it up before shoving it back in his pocket. With a single hand, Aidan grabbed the front of his hoodie, ripping what remained of it in a single, swift motion. His skin, now red from his pump and glistening with sweat, was pulled across so tight it almost seemed as though it was struggling to hold all of his muscle in. His cobbled abs protruded far from his flat stomach, Dylan just wanted his hands to run up and down them… Aidan must’ve been 7’6 by now, well beyond the height of anyone Dylan had seen, even heard of. Then the command came again, “Get over here, little man.” Dylan’s mind was like mush, destroyed by a combination of the beauty of the body before him, the domineering voice he couldn’t resist, and the scent that made Aidan, who was huge as it is, seem big enough to fill the entire room. Like a drone, Dylan shuffled out from behind the counter and towards Aidan, his arousal painfully obvious. As soon as he was in reach, Aidan thrust a hand out, groping at Dylan’s bulge, which looked pathetically small in the gargantuan’s hands. Aidan gives a sly grin. “Like what you see, little boy?” Speaking as softly as he was, Aidan’s voice couldn’t help but be as huge as the rest of him. Dylan nodded meekly, eyes glued to the abs that were now right at his eye level. “Go ahead.” Aidan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Touch it.” In an instant, Dylan staggered forward, hands running up and down Aidan’s abdomen, his scent only getting stronger and stronger as he got closer. Every inch of the larger man felt like steel and burned with a heat so intense that Dylan was starting to sweat. He couldn’t pull away, instead searching Aidan’s body with more and more vigour. Aidan lifted an arm, flexing a bicep that was easily 26 inches, if not even bigger. Below it was his hairy pit, reaking with the musk that made Dylan weak in the knees. Aidan again wrapped a meaty paw around Dylan’s throat, though this time his fingers overlapped around the back. He lifted him like he was nothing, shoving Dylan’s face under his still flexed arm. Dylan didn’t need to be asked, and began licking, enjoying every drop of sweat. Aidan dropped Dylan to the ground, who was now thoroughly intoxicated by the taste and scent of the superior man. Aidan fiddled with the button around his waist before growing frustrated and simply ripping the waist apart, the button flying with a ping. Down flopped his already erect cock, dribbling with pre that dripped slowly onto the floor. He was easily sitting at nine and a half inches, probably more. Dylan quickly crawled his way over, looking up to Aidan for permission. Aidan nodded, and Dylan immediately shot up, working Aidan’s massive cock with both hands while teasing the head with his tongue. Aidan threw his head back in pleasure, massive hands running through Dylan’s hair as he moans, deep and masculine. A shudder goes down Dylan’s spine, who can’t wait any longer and take’s Aidan’s cock into his mouth, stroking up and down with building speed and intensity, taking the first five inches. Already, Dylan’s mouth is full with pre, which dribbles down his chin and onto the floor between the two men. “Ah, fuck yes Dylan. Take it ALL!” Aidan began to buck his hips, forcing his cock further and further down Dylan’s throat. At six and a half inches, Dylan began to gag and try to pull off, but was helpless against the power that was Aidan, who simply kept a hand wrapped behind Dylan’s head, scarcely noticing the little man was resisting at all. Aidan was forcing his cock in deeper with every stroke. By eight inches, tears were streaming down Dylan’s face, though he still lustily groped at Aidan’s body. With a single stroke, Aidan rammed in the rest of his throbbing cock, his pendulous balls slapping against Dylan’s chin. Dylan began to convulse, pleasure shooting through every inch of his body, nerves on fire, as he shot rope after rope into his boxers. Hot cum dripped down his leg, his jeans visibly wet from the outside. He went limp from a combination of pleasure and exhaustion, but Aidan didn’t stop. He kept fucking the little man’s mouth until he finished. Massive rope after rope of hot cum unloaded into his mouth, and Dylan simply couldn’t swallow fast enough, sputtering and coughing as cum fell to the floor, the pungent scent completely overpowering. After the third rope, Aidan let him fall to the floor, still stroking his throbbing cock. Rope after rope flew through the air , splattering all over Dylan and the floor around him. After seemingly forever, it ended. Aidan casually strolled towards the gym showers, calling back behind him, “Clean up your mess, little boy, then make me another Drink! I’m just getting started with this shit.” Dylan watched him go, perfect, tight, muscled ass bouncing with each step. He sat both in horror and awe of what had happened: Aidan, who was already a giant of a man, had packed on impossible size in such a small amount of time. If he got more of that drink, how big would he get? The problem is, Dylan didn't know if he wanted to stop him. But the recipe was destroyed, which gave Dylan an idea. A man like Aidan, he would do anything to get bigger. Dylan might be able to use that to his advantage, being the only one who knows how to make the drink, the reign the beast in. Then there was the matter of paying off his loan. He’d have to let other guys move in, or else he’d lose the place, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. It was strange enough to be lying on your back spent and in a pool of hot, fresh cum, but things were only going to get weirder.
  13. FREaky

    Abduction Part Eight-Finale

    Abduction Part Eight - Finale by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8794-abduction-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9036-abduction-part-two/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9055-abduction-part-three/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9137-abduction-part-four/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9182-abduction-part-five/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9374-abduction-part-six/ Part Seven: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9592-abduction-part-seven/ Early the next morning, the cacauphony of caws from the tropical birds woke up a powerfully built, blonde, and norse looking man. He had arrived in the middle of the night, anchored his boat out in the harbor, and then rowed a small dingy to shore, drug it up into the brush where the beach began to turn into forest and went to sleep in it. He had thought about ignoring the birds, rolling over, and going back to sleep for a little bit, but there entered another sound into his auditory cannal. "PARUMPFFF......PARUMPFFFFF....." The sound was getting closer and louder with each beat it made. Not only that, but whatever was making the noise was also beginning to cause the ground to shake. Upon the next sound and shake, the man sat up in the boat, attempting to look around, thinking about moving from where he was and leavign the dingy there, but within two more beats a large something moved in front and overhead of his position and shaded a large area greatly. Within mere seconds a pair of large hands pressed their way into the brush and then moved sideways apart, crushing and snapping all twigs, sapplings, and small trees that hid the large blonde male. To the built blonde's point of view, the shrubs suddenly parted and there behind the foliage curtain squated a giant of a man bigger than any one the muscular blonde had ever seen. This giant was easily almost three times the blonde's size, he was as muscular as the hulk, if not more so, hairy, with brilliantly glowing white-blonde hair, deep coffee colored eyes, and dark tan skin, and a cock that flaccid looked to be as thick and large as some of the palm trees and swayed back and forth like them as well, when the giant was standing as opposed to squatting down. "Greetings. My apologies if I startled you. My name is Loki. Welcome to my and my family's island." The man wasn't sure if he could ask the questions he wanted to or if he would just soon bust a load into his pants while staring at this extremely hot looking young giant. "Hi, Loki. My name is Dries. I'm trying to find two friends of mine. Perhaps you might know them." "Oh... I kind of doubt that. We don't get too many visitor's here. That's what lead me to you. I saw the boat out in the lagoon and waded out to say hello there first. When no one answered, I walked into shore and saw the small boat tracks and came here." "Well, you certainly did find me. The two guys I'm looking for are probably about six feet or so shorter than you, almost twice as tall as me. They go by the names of Julian and Terry." "Julian and Terry?! Those are my fathers' names...but they are the same height as my brothers and I are." "You're Julian & Terry's son? You have brothers? How? I mean... did they have sex with some alien women?" "NO! no no no no no no no...." and Loki collapsed onto his butt and side with laughter. "No... dad and dad had sex with each other." "But still that would only make you like ten years old?!? " "Yeah....we're apparently odd human beings number one being so tall, built, and uhmmmm hung like a whale and number two because my brothers and I reached full adulthood by the age of ten, where most don't reach adulthood until.... what is it eightteen?" "Uhmmm yeah, that's what most of them do." "Most of 'them'?" "Uhmmmm well. I'm not actually human myself, I'm a Nord'ok. On average we stand about a foot taller than most humans. Your fathers' original height I used to stand six inches to a foot and an inch taller than them at one time." "Really....well....you are a bit bigger than most of the humans dad and pa described to me, and you look pretty handsome...." "Really? Are you trying to.... WHOA!" "No trying to; I'm hitting on you, and my body is letting the both of us know, it likes yours." Suddenly Loki's cock just began to stretch out and fatten up and Dries just hopped onto it and began to ride it as it rose and bobbed. ***************************************************************************** On another side of the island and young, Polynesian man wakes up in the top of a palm tree and yet face to face with similar giant version of himself, which is pretty impossible to do as he stands 7' 2" tall and was fairly beefy. But this man... he...now he was around eighteen feet tall, with oliver colored skin, jet black hair, but deep forest greet eyes which stared at the Polynesian man with much scrutiny. "Hello.... .... Are you a regular human?" "Uhmmm.... yes." said the Polynesian man as he sat up and straddled the palm tree trunk. "Oh.... I'm a giant human." "No....I'm a giant human. Well... technically four inches short of being classified as a giant, but I'm a considerable man of size for humans. You are a colossal man." "Hahahaha.... well, giant man of diminutive size, my name is Ajay. What is yours?" "My name is Kawikani." "What's your first name?" "That is my first name." laughed Kawikani. "My last name is Onameahoolea." "I've not heard of names like that before." "You look so tan and... you live here on an island, how could you have not?" "I've not met anyone else before. We've never had any visitors. Just my two fathers and my three brothers." "Are they all the same size as you?" "Yes, exactly." "Wow..... you're..... you're like a god to me." "Hahahaha.... a god? No.... I'm not that." "Well.... it's hard to find someone who makes me look small, but you.... you're like twice my size and then some." "Is that a bad thing?" "No.... ..... it's kind of....a good thing.... depending upon what you like...." and Kawikani put out his hand and began to rub it round and round over Ajay's shoulder, down his chest, and then hanging over and cupping Ajay's nipple in his hand. "Oooooh.....uhmmmm......" There was a rustle from the bush below the palm tree and Kawikani looked down to see Ajay's ample cock ooze forward and through the brush increasing in size both length and girth. "Does the god like someone caressing his skin?" "Uh.... yeah." "And would the god like someone to strock his cock, slit, and balls?" "Uh..... hooo boy...." "And does the god have a name that his worshiper might call out as he stroked him off to spurting orgasm?" "uh....OH!" And Kawikani looked down to see Ajay's shaft bobbing in mid air and the gigantic blob of pre come dribbling slowly out the slit of its head. "Uhmmmm.....my name is Ajay. Ajay Dealmiki to be exact." *************************************************************************** On still a third side of the island, a behemoth of a man has been tracking giant foot prints since he was woken up by soft yet extremely loud foot falls at the break of dawn. The man recognizes these sound for what they are as he makes them himself. Standing and incredible 8' 11" tall and built bigger than a professional bodybuilder, the man just thinking about moving causes waves of sound to echo forth with his standing still, let alone heel to toe stomp. After walking for a number of hours he comes upon something he would describe as a base camp and after surveying the territory, walks back out and off the trail, squats down into brush tall enough to cover him, and pulls out a radio to attempt to communicate. "Capt. Brynglas to Major Payne or Colonel Sargeant, come in. Captain Brynglas to Major Payne or Colonel Sargeant, come in. I have urgent update to announce, over." Suddenly there was a large shadow looming over Captain Brynglas and he felt the backpack with the main part of the radio in it get crushed by something or maybe some one. Growling in anger on his equipment being trashed, he turned and screamed with hands clasped together to pummel the person behind him. "I AM CAPTAIN BRYNGLAS AND I AM HERE TO BRING YOU GIANT FUCKS ....AAAAAAAUUUUGH!" Brynglas' hands struck the enormous shin bones and muscle of a strawberry-blonde, black eyed, giant power lifter with a bit of a ball gut, causing some of his hand bones to be broken. Suddenly the same gigantic pinching fingers that squashed his backpack like a bug picked Captain Brynglas up by it and brought him face to face with the giant. "Who are you?" "Captain Robert Brynglas, United States Army. HUH!" "Well, Captain, what are you doing here again?" "Captain Robert Brynglas, United States Army. HUH!" "That doesn't answer my question Captai....." "Captain Robert Brynglas, United States Army. HUH!" The giant brought Robert up to his mouth and then roared. "HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH! If you're gonna continue to do what you're doing we can do without the huh as it doesn't add any kind of affect on me nor imparts answers or information I'm trying to get from you." Captain Brynglas suddenly quivered in his crotch area and legs, but he kep his stern composure on his face. "You will get nothing but name, rank, and serial number out of me." "Well, I want to know what you are doing here, as well as why looking around mine and my parent's home seems to qualify as important information you need to share." "Captain Robert Brynglas, United States Army. WHUH-AAAAAAAAAH!" The gargantuan powerlifter merely, simply tossed Captain Brynglas high into the air and then caught him. "And I am Calum Dealmiki giant human of this island and I'd like to know what you are doing here." "I WILL NOT TELL YOU... AUWAAAAAAAH!" Calum tossed the captain again and proceed to do so several times as he made the following statement. "I know... .... ... who you are, Captain.... ... ... What I want to know is... ... ... why you are here and why... ... ... my family is worth reporting about." A stream of fluid had come out the bottom of one of Captain Brynglas' pants leg at some point and the line of wetness showed down one pants leg. He was a little shaken and stammering a bit when he began to speak, but he kept his nerve. "Captain Robert Brynglas, United States Army. You will get no information out of me and if I don't contact my people in five days, they will come here and take care of your sorry ass. They can handle one giant!" Calum began to flip Robert into the air again, cathing him between alternate hands. "There... ... ... are .... .... ....six......of us... ... ...this... ... ... size... ... ... you puny... ... ... little... ... ...man!" Upon the last catch Calum held him by the back pack and brought Robert up to his face. At that point Robert looked the giant with a very mixed expression gasping out the statement, "There are six of you?", before his eyes started to roll to the back of his head, he moaned and ooohed, convulsed, and then a larger, darker, wet spot occurred where his pants were tenting near his crotch. "Are you? ... ... ... are you orgasming over me?" Robert said nothing, looking down, breathing hard. That's when Calum flipped Robert very high in the air, caught him and then brought his face close to Robert's and bellowed, "ANSWER ME!" Robert jerked and shook, somehow surprisingly the wet spot on his crotch becoming even larger and darker than ever before and now there was no mistaking the musky smell coming off of the once behemoth captain. Robert shook again and broke down and cried...."I.... I am....Captain Robert...." "I SAID...." "NO! NO! Wait.... wait..... I am Captain Robert Brynglas, not only of the United States Army but created years ago by the United States army." "Created?" "I... I.... am a genetic clone from the genes of Robert Pershing Wadlow and some of the strongest, toughest, and powerfully built men of all time. I've primarily been a top secret, but I was brought here to see if you and your partner had returned to the Earth at this island. But.... but we only had two of you listed and you're only supposed to be around twelve feet tall... or so." "I've never been off of Earth. You must be talking about my fathers. Why are you shaking and quaking and... ... ... and... ... ... and cumming?" "I... .... I..... I'm used..... used to being..... THE biggest man. I've never seen a man so tall and powerfully built as you. I'm.... I'm used to everyone being so much shorter than me. EVEN GIANT SIZED BASKETBALL PLAYERS!" The screamed words echoed across the island and faded away before Robert continued. "I'm used to towering over everyone... ... .... to looking down upon all. But you.... you're so big.... so powerful.....so fucking.....so fucking HUNG! I'm getting so horny talking to you. And the way you can just pick me up and toss me like I was a child.. ... ... .... I feel so....angry....so.... aroused? ... ... ... I'm so confused! ... .... ... I just want to hold you.... worship you.... measure you....see how much bigger than me you are..... to marvel at you and caress you..... and..... oh......God help me! I want to be inside you and feel you inside me. I want to be your fucking twink.... you're bitch! I'm supposed to be the giant alpha male but there's no chance next to you, and thus... I want you. ... ... ... I want to be with you." By the end of Robert's confession-admission of arousal, Calum's shaft had fully risen and extended bobbing parallel to a good number of feet of land. ************************************************************************ Over the next few days the three son's got up did whatever chores giants needed to do done and left home area very early. They were spending more and more time with the gentlemen they had found, respectively, and the gentlemen were all too willing to spend time with them. These were days of exploration and comparison with body parts being measured: length around biceps, height, nipple-penis-ball size, feet and hands; strength competitions who could lift what and then calculating the equal amount to the giant boys and recalculating how much they had beaten the regular men by; volume amount and rope distance of cum shots. It seemed a number of weeks went by before they trio of young men decided to tell their fathers about the visiting men, but not out of actually wanting to simply introduce them. Each of the young men had begun to experience and increase in chest size. At first all three thought perhaps it was happening due to all the exercise they go showing off to their lovers, but as their chests kept increasing, expanding, they thought they better tell their fathers straight away. Running into home camp, they noticed each other and became somewhat frantic and thus ran up and in near panic began to cry out to their fathers. Yet their fathers' minds were on something else and so it took several shouts and hollers before Julian and Terry notice their sons need attention. Meanwhile in between each cry for their father's the boys' chests just swelled larger....and fuller.....and thicker......and broader.....and more rounded......and more square........fully and fully they grew until they nearly looked like they were going to pop. Julian and Terry discussed it for a while, while Robert, Dries, and Kawikani looked in awe and horror as Calum, Loki, and Ajay's pecs continued to blow up even fuller. Finally they came to a decision. "Well, boys." said Terry "You other dad and I have decided what is happening is that you must really like these men, and these men really like you. In fact I think it's safe to say that you all are in love with one another." At that moment the six young men blushed. "Thus what is happening to you now, is similar to what happened to us when we gave birth to our sons. Except now, my sons, are wanting to change another human being so they will have the size and be formidable enough to take the physical abuse you guys could create while making love." After that and some greetings and reintroductions of Dries to Julian & Terry, and Kawikani to everyone and Robert to everyone, Loki took Dries off to the side to talk and cuddle with him, where upon Dries promptly began to suckle on one of Loki's nipples, where upon it began to shrink down to Loki's normal tremendous size. Then Dries in punch drunk fashion began to suckle on Loki's other nipple and it two deflated to it normal, gargantuan striated and vascular size. It was shortly after this that Dries began to hold his sides and roll around on the ground. Loki and everyone wondered what was going on but they soon found out. With beads of sweat dripping off his body, causing his hair to become plastered to his frame, Dries balls suddenly began to swell and grow, inflate and expand, first one and then the other, and they just kept expanding as though a hose was connected to them filling them with testosterone and spunk. Loki knelt down at Dries side wondering what he could or should do but then suddenly Dries balls gave a mighty contraction and on that contraction Dries' hands and feet just exaggerately extended to larger size. Shortly after with each contration his legs and arms, then torso, then neck and head, all began to lengthen is size as his feet and hands pushed out farther and farther carving ruts into the sand or ground leaving behind sloped trenches that got deeper and deeper. Trees became uprooted and broken in half, rocks and small boulders were pushed into great heaps. Then the ground began to give way and slightly crack underneath Dries' mighty form for muscle was now packing on his frame at an incredible and awe horrifying way. More and more his muscles twitched and popped, flexed and relaxed, swelled and grew, over and over again. Riverlets of veins criss -cross his entire being, score marks of striations defined the shape and curvature of each and every muscle, while every muscle grew to make it even more difficult to move, yet in a back position , simply lying down, it began to lift up his legs, his groin, his back, his arms, from all lying flat upon the ground. When all was said and done, Dries stood up and his new giant boyfriend was suddenly only crotch high to him. Dries extended his arms back and roared as his cock suddenly sprang in arousal becoming impossibly thick and incredibly long. There might have been some cause for concern, some form of protest, but Dries quickly began chanting the same mantra the boys had done numerous days ago: "Our race must be preserved." Soon he kneeled down and Loki impaled himself as best as he could on Dries prick, followed by the rest of the family Loki into Calum, Calum into Ajay, Ajay into Terry, Terry into Julian, Julian into Dries. The great daisy chain was formed again and each and everyone was pumping as best as they could while the scent of testosterone filled the entire home land area. Within moments everyone rocked back jettosing an extreme blast of spoo into the ass of lover or family member and then everyone began to stretch and broaden and grow and inflate become hairier and stronger and fuller and larger.... With that the tall and lumbering Kawikani approached his lover, Ajay, and discovered he now only came up the middle of Ajay's calf. Robert stood there in awe and wonder as well as arousal over the new size of his lover, Calum and the rest of his family. But something seemed to keep Robert in his place. He couldn't make himself walk forward and although he didn't understand why, he felt calm and secure in the decision that he was supposed to wait. Meanwhile Ajay sat in a position that made it easier to hold Kawikani and for Kawikani to climb over or rest in parts of him. It didn't take long for the pair to notice that the massive chest of Ajay was still proportionately distended, over-thick, and if he bounced them made sloshing sounds. Kawikani made short work of drinking in all the man milk that Ajay had produced and it had the same massively muscular and height affect on him as it had on Dries. But Kawikani stretched out even farther and broader and thicker and harder and defined and taller and stronger that any of the Dealmiki family were now and he kept growing. Growling and howling like some wild animal pent up in a cage, Kawikani swelled up to such proportions and such size one would think he was turning into a valcano god from the legends of his Polynesian heritage. When all was done the tables were now turned; all of the Dealmiki family stood only as tall as about half-way up Kawikani's calves, while poor Captain Robert Brynglas came up to Kawikani's ankles, if he was lucky. But that didn't stay the same way for long. Within minutes Kawikani lied down, practically destroying the family homestead with his colossal size, and Ajay walked over and began to stroke and lick Kawi's monsterous cock as best as he could. Another few minutes and Kawi blew a river sized stream of cum all over Ajay's body, which absorbed it almost instantly and gave Ajay the largest belly his torso ever had. In turn he blew and unprecedented sizeable load into Dries, who blew into Loki, who blew into Calum, who blew into Julian, who blew into Terry, who blew back into the mouth of Kawikani. Robert nearly blew a load for each man as he watched them all grow and grow and grow and their shoulders, hands, knees, and feet suddenly began to dig into the earth and carve ruts here, push stones there, dam up small creeks, flatten hundreds of year old palm trees. There... before him... now stood seven men that looked like the statue of Rhodes only with Hercules' features. Calum could bare see him on the ground, but he managed to reach his gargantuan hand and scoop Robert up, along with some rocks, trees, and sand, and deposited him on his abdomen just below his protuding pecs which were still heavy and swollen with milk. Robert didn't have to really climb. Calums pecs still swollen with muscle and growth milk had rolled his pecs so massively that his nipples were just shy of pointing straight down. Robert had problems at first, attempting to hold onto the massive granite outcropping that was Calum's nipple, but Robert endured using his what once was considered massive paws and impossible strength to hold onto and milk the giant nipple. It was somewhat difficult for an average person, if you could call Robert that, to drink all the milk that Calum was giving him, but Robert persevered. A few sucks and his stomach became distended like some great off season bodybuilder. He'd rest for a few minutes before a series of three sudden hiccoughs came out and his stomach went back to being a smooth, cut, six or eight back. Robert continued to drink this way, over and over again until he got both of Calum's pecs down to impressive and impossible normal size. Robert stumbled round as though drunk. Heaving forward as though sick. A misstep sent him over the side and off of the gigantic Calum, but it mattered not. While fallen in midair he hiccoughed twice and with that his balls suddenly blew up to damn near Calum's size. He landed with a slight bounce on them not enough to do any damage but enough cause a little pain. With that he alternated between ball growth, penis growth, and body growth. Another hiccough and his balls inflated more. Hiccough- and his dick oozed out fatter, thicker, and harder. Hiccough- his limbs stretched and extended. Hiccough - his muscles inflated, swelled, defined, became denser, Over and over again it happened. The Dealmikis watched as he grew and grew, egging him on, playing with their cocks, until Robert soon matched their size and then within a few short hiccoughs he was large enough to begin to push them and still he grew! Once done every one stood up and looked in awe at Robert. Up and Up and Up and out and Out and OUT! Despite all their recent growth the entire Dealmiki family, both new and old just barely came up to Robert's toes. Robert turned around to get his bearings, noticing that the active volcano on this island now only came up to just over his shoulders. His cock immediately sprang to life and he threw his hands and arms backwards, tightening his chest, upper arms, forearms, abs and legs as best he could, screamed and loudly proclaimed "YOU HAVE MADE ME A GOD!" The phrase echoed for a bit and the entire Dealmiki family all came and spooed on the spot. But then there was a weird look that came over Robert's face, and he began to try and scan the ground as best he could. The expression became more and more anxious. "I..... I..... am a god, but I will not rule alone. I need.... I need my love. I need him to be my size. I need his family with me.... oh....uh..... oh....." Despite the amount of times he came in the last few minutes, he whacked and jacked and blew a most extraordinary load all over the ground. This was absorved completely by Calum who then suddenly grew up out of nowhere as though he were a plant seed on instant growth formula or was a cartoon pill that one just added water too. This sence repeated itself as Calum then jacked off and the spunk was absorbed by Kawikani who then spooed for Ajay who grew and then spewed for Dries, who then spurted for Loki who swelled up and out and splooged for Julian, who squirted for Terry, who after his growth shad-a-wad back to Robert. The men stood there in a stupor for quite some time, when suddenly one of the boy thought and spoke up. "Where is Cotton? Cotton has missed all this glorious growth! GRRRRRRRRRRRR" Shortly after the last set of growth spurts, Cotton had arrived with a blonde gentleman with ice blue eyes, who stood only shoulder high to him and was stumbling and sweating profusely. There was a pale blue tint to his skin and he had a tattoo kind of birthmark similar in design to what all the Dealmiki's had, except his was a snowflake. Setting the shorter man down he ran to the fire that had nearly been extinguished by either shifting sand or the actual feet of his now towering, god like brothers. Creating another fire he began to shout and take palm leaves to make a canpoy over the fire and then remove it attempting to create smoke signals. "Dads! Dads! Loki-Calum-Ajay!" It took the others a while to notice but they finally began to realize some object bug sized to them was trying to get their attention, maybe make contact. Thus Julian decided to squat and lay down on the island and around the volcano as best he could putting his eye near the spot where the smoke was coming from. He smiled once his eyes adjusted at trying to look at something near microscopic. "Cotton! My eighteen foot tall yet microscopic son. We have become huge. We can not hear you where our heads are. Come walk into my ear and shout to me what you're trying to say and tell me where you have been the last few weeks." Cotton did as he was told and began to explain what had happened to him. "Dad a few nights ago I was walking on the farther shore of the island and I saw the brilliant blue star crash down almost in the exact center. I ran to it to see what it was, what it looked like and it actually turned out to be a space ship. But it didn't land correctly and it crashed. The pilot was hurt, but not too badly and I began to care for him. He is man like us, well like you used to be and I am, nearly our size. As I was taking care of him we talked of so many things and told me how you and dad came to his world and he fell in love with your looks and size. He says he's a prince of another world. Blizcard is his name and renounces his title to come here and live after seeing you and dad. And.... well.... we laughed and told stories and enjoyed our time together and....I think we're in love." "That seems to be reoccurring theme on our island, boy. As you can see we have three new members to the family. You have three new brother-in-laws and they have had a profound affect upon us all." "So Calum, Ajay, and Loki have taken them on as husbands?" "I believe that is what intent is. They have certainly acted like the family so far." "Then I am very happy for them, but I fear it may not be so for me. Although I have healed his physical wounds, there still seems to be something happening to him. Everyday he becomes weaker and weaker, he has a fever that won't break and he becomes paler and paler. I also fear there is something wrong with me as well, perhaps catching something from Blizcard because my pecs have swollen to such a tremendous size I can barely move my arms or head" "You pecs are to provide muscle and height and cock growth for your lover. That's why they blew up so full and sound full of fluid when you walk. But I.....ahhhh...... I...... oh...... I think the family will have to be connected before and addition can be made." "What?" "Terry, Calum, Ajay, Loki, one or a couple of you, make a large crater in the ground near the smoke. Cotton, you will need to put Blizcard into the crater once done and then get out of there quickly. I believe your milk will not only make you mates, but will cure him as well. He's originally from a planet full of ice giants and I don't think this tropical weather is doing him well, but OOOOHoooooooooooooooooooooooh. We need to take care of something first." Cotton's brothers took care of digging the crater while Julian stood up with Cotton in his ear and then tipped his head over to Terry after motioning for him to cup his hands together. As soon as this was done, Julian then blew a huge wad into Terry's hands which caused Terry to blow into his hands followed by Calum, Robert, Ajay, Kawikani, Loki and Dries. Cotton lay there sputtering and spitting, swimming around in so much spunk but then it began to receed and fade away and he felt his body begin to soar and stretch, blow up and inflate, widen and thicken, harden and grow. He soon was doll size in his fathers hands, then baby size, then child size, then he hopped out and grew into pre-teen, teenage, and finally equal sized adult. He stumbled and swayed, trying to get used to his new height after such fast growth, plus the size of his muscles which were even more enormous in density and size than he and his family were just moments before. Terry grabbed him and spun him around to face the crater his brothers dug that Blizcard now lay in and gave him a firm but polite sounding command. "Squeeze your pecs, Cotton. Squeeze them!" Cotton did so and it took only seconds for milky fluid to come streaming out like a giant sized water fall and fill the giant-hand dug basin which his lover lie in. Within two squirts it seemed as though it would be deep enough to already to begin to drown Blizcard but then the former prince began to stretch and broaden, grow and thicken, his already giant and mighty frame compared to Earthlings became even more muscular, more dense, now hairy, hugely balled, a cock that was growing out almost infinitely. Farther and father he stretch, larger and larger he grew. The ground beneath him began to cave and crumble. His feet rested upon the volcano and soon began to move it, shoving it over its own crater and causing it to seal itself up. He soon grew so big that Cotton at his new size was being lifted by either his legs or arms, then rolling over and resting on Blizcard's torso. The veins, the striation, the bulges, the mounds, the pops, the rocks, the feet, the hands, the hair, the balls, the cock.... growing and growing into God like status and going past into a Titan. When all was said and done, Blizcard was now a normal human pale that had been taned. Sweat wasn't dripping off of him as fast as it had been earlier and was now just enough to give him a sexy sheen highlighting every single mound and bulge of his muscular frame. When he stood tall, his lover and lover's family just barely came one-fourth of the way up his thigh. The poor poor volcano that had been shifted at its original height just barely came to the top of his knee His hair was now a platinum blonde with ice-nearly white-blue eyes and he picked up Cotton in his hand and placed him down in front of his cock. In an instant Cottom was sucking and his shlong sprung to erection straight out from his body which Robert latched onto followed by Calum latching on to his, Kawikani onto Calums, Ajay onto Kawikani's, Loki onto Kawikani's, Dries onto Loki's, Terry onto Dries', Julian onto Terry's and back round to Blizcard onto Julian's. Gigantic muscle titans surrounding the whole perimeter of the island, each looking like they were sucking on something longer and heftier than a fire hose that full of water and its pressure. Eventually that pressure would actually release and fill everyone's stomach until it became exceptionally round, hard, bulbous, and yet carrying the familiar grid pattern of carved abs. With that everyone save Blizcard exploded in growth and size growing to the point their bodies moved inland, moved into the water, grew off the edge of the shore, their shoulders rising higher than the trees. Their arms lengthening to accomodate the girth of their upper and fore arms which threatened to lock their elbows in and now made them look almost a little like gorillas. Their biceps easily becoming larger than their head. Their traps, shoulders, back, and chest threatening to pinch of their neck which rose higher and higher just enough to keep their heads safe from being pinched. They stood and waddled their legs nearly become locked from the size of their tear drop thighs, and the freakish thigh biceps, not mention the pulsing giant heart shaped claves that tried to make the tights look small, as well as a hamstring now so taught and tight it threatened to snap. Their body hair curved this way and that forming to the shape of the muscle area it covered, just enough to make the bulge and shape stand out but not hide or obscure the definition. The hair also glimmered with highlights in the sun's glow and swayed on them in the tropical breeze. Their nipples stuck out just a titch beyond their feathery hair and underneath veins rose up feet high on the top of their skin while lines of striation made long semi deep grooves across the body and deep cavernous crevices formed the lines that defined their uber jacked muscles so well. On top of their colossal thighs rested their bold, beautiful, godly ampled balls large enough so that each one individually nearly filled one of the giants' own hand and released a tsunami force of spunk that would fill the grand canyon. That coming out of a hose that was damn near half as long as their own body, that bobbed and swayed when erect about three-forths the way down their legs. The inner workings of their groin and abdomen muscles able to pull it up just slightly or parrallel to the ground when the abs were crunched and bunched. The weight of these three things would make them aroused and horny about 90% of their time. They stood up, leaving elongated craters for foot prints. One small shift and the island rumbled and quaked. The once grand volcano was a midgit to them now and they were so tall they could see the whole of the island and wonder if all ten of them could find comfort and sleeping there. With all the growing and cumming that had taken place, one would think that everyone would be completely exhausted but soon the boys and their new husbands complained of being hungry and so they all sat as best they could and jacked and feed off of one another. Not too long after that the boys and their mates not only became hornier than hell, but also went through the same ritual that their fathers went through to produce them. Julian and Terry smile watching the young men. Eventually Terry got up and began to walk out into the ocean. "Terry," called out Julian, "What are you doing?" "We're going to need to leave this island, hon. Our four boys have just gotten married and just all of themselves and our son-in-laws pregnant. If they grow bigger like our boys did, imagine how that will be with twenty-six of us fucking giant muscle titans." To which everyone replied, "That idea makes me horny." Standing ankle deep in the lagoon, Terry turn to look out to the sea he was walking into when suddenly it began to bubble and froth. "What's that?" There appeared suddenly a fleet of submarines followed by a few carriers and other military ships. A voice rang clear over a loudspeaker. "This is Colonel Sargeant. Captain Brynglas you are offically reported as GOOD GOD!" "Robert," called out Calum. "I think those ships are for you and us." "I don't think we have to worry about them, boys. C'mon, everyone in the pool." And one by one every joined Terry for a walk into the sea. This began to create large currents that the boats and subs couldn't navigate against. The Colonel tried to bark out orders and have various weapons fired, but the tow created by the giants caused several ships to sink, subs to collide, it raised the tide level a bit and swept the ships and subs out over the island, and then when the giants were far enough, left them all on dry land. Suddenly Terry stopped and began to bob up and down on his feet and began to chuckle loudly. "What's so funny, Dad," "I'm flat footed, Ajay. and could have been so for some time. The water just barely comes up to the top of our shoulders. WE'RE TALLER THAN THE SEA!" And he raised his tan hairy bulbuous arms and performed a bodybuilding victory pose, making him look like Neptune coming out of the ocean himself. "Where are we going to head to Dad?" "I figure we ought to head to our hometown, let the parents know we're alright, they've got grandkids, will soon have great-grandkids, and that a muuuuuuuuch larger guesthouse with ubersized quilts are gonna have to be built to accomodate us." and Terry began to laugh. "Dad?" "Yes, Cotton?" "Can we swing by the North Pole first, as a honey moon gift to Blizcard so he won't feel so homesick with all of this change?" "Ha ha! Why not?! I don't think it's going to be that big of a detour for the likes of us." And the giants walked the sea, hoping they were heading into the right direction. One small thing did attract Julian's eye and looked at it and addressed it as the boat moved under his chin. "Major Payne. Glad to see you're not hurt, but are trying to follow us as a beacon for the army?" "No... no, sir. I'm here on my own accord." "Own accord. Four of these strapping young men...." "Extra large, supersized, uber, titan god-like strapping young men...." "Yes.....they are your sons correct?" "Yes...why?" "Well....I.....they look very mature for...what it was only ten years you escaped and were take from us." "Yes that's about right, and?" "So it took them only ten years to grow into adulthood?" "Yes....and?" "And did I hear correctly every single one of your boys and their mates are now pregnant?" "Yes....where are you going with this Major?" "Well....I..... that is......would it be all right if I hung out with you guys for ten years and see if any of your grandkids would take a fancy to me?" "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Julian laughed and laughed, picked up Major Paynes boat, held it by his ear until he heard the motor turn off, and then placed it on his head and continued his walk with his family.
  14. FREaky

    Abduction - Part Three

    Abduction Part Three by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8794-abduction-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9036-abduction-part-two/ After Julian's growth it became quiet in the weird, alien operating room, and both Julian and Terry drifted in and out of sleep and consciousness. Eventually a couple of the short, pasty, large black-eyed aliens came and stood next to them, poking, prodding, taking stats down. But for some reason, this time, Julian and Terry could hear them. Could hear their thoughts as they were speaking to one another. "Has it been decided?" "Yes, these two, now, are large enough to make excellent drones for the home world. After we have initiated their proper growth pattern, they will make some of the best and strongest drones we have ever had." "Do we start the sequence now?" "No. They will be a bit too large for transport at the time. It is preferable to keep them this size and have them grow there." "When is their transportation?" "They are to be loaded now." "Initiating paralytic serum." Suddenly Julian and Terry felt something icy cold run through their veins and they realized their bodies became quite stiff and rigid. Scared they could feel their pulse and heart rates quicken. They could hear the beat of their heart in their heads. They were to be taken away from Earth. They would probably never see their families again and they were going to be slaves to these alien beings. The two lie there in terror, wishing they could at least turn their heads to look at one another. The aliens stepped away from the pair and the bright overhead lights dimmed leaving only side light to filter into the room from off branching corridors. "Drone Three-five-seven-one, load these two onto shuttle craft Beta-Beta immediately. Starship Beta-ap-Alpha is due to leave momentarily for the home world and these two are scheduled to go with it to become drones. Bieg Greevlix will be leaving this Bieg ship and transfer over to the transport ship to watch over these two and other prospects. As such he will fly the shuttle and its contents over. You are to accompany him." A very powerful drone, standing seven feet tall with a powerful strongman or power lifter like frame, turned his honey-gold haired head towards the alien and silently, stoically bowed at the waist and proceeded to punch some keys on the tables Julian and Terry lied upon. Once that was done he hit a side button, where upon the sound of releasing gas was heard and the table's base seemed to disappear. With that the drone pushed the table down the corridor and onto an awaiting mini ship in the shuttle bay. Once he had both Julian and Terry he punched some more buttons on the table and then on a side panel in the shuttle before fingering a small pad and then sitting down on a bench in the back and staring straight ahead. Shortly thereafter Bieg Greevlix showed up, coming through the back hatch, stopping to look at Julian and Terry. "Yes...yes... these will make some excellent workers for the home world. Is everything listed and prepared for departure, drone?" The giant man turned his head somberly and dazed like towards the alien and nodded an affirmative. "Good. Bieg Greevlix to Commander Heenah. I am aboard the shuttle and shall proceed with departure." "As ordered. Proceed Bieg Greevlix. Enjoy the return to the home world." "Computer initiate lift off procedure." There were some beeps from the computer and then suddenly the drone stood up and gave a chop like blow to the neck and head of the alien. He in turn immediately went unconscious and collapsed to the floor. Quickly the drone opened the side singular door to the shuttle, which was on the opposite side of any control center, and dropped Bieg Greevlix off onto the shuttle bay floor. Then, per Greevlix's previous commands, the shuttle began to rise up off the floor and slowly proceed towards the bay doors. Slowly the doors opened, but once the shuttle had reached that space midway of leaving the ship, one of the doors suddenly snapped back to the shut position striking the shuttle craft from the side abruptly. There was but a moment before there was a beep at the console and a voice was heard. "Bieg Greevlix, that impact was a sudden malfunction in the shuttle bay doors. You have continued to drift out, are you and your systems functioning." The giant brute stood up and approached the console. "This is Drone Three-five-seven-one. Bieg Greevlix was thrown from his seat and has struck his head. He is unconscious but appropriately stable. All shuttle and new drone transport mechanisms are functioning normally. The new prospective drones are perfectly fine and still in the transport mechanisms. I shall continue the short flight to Starship Beta-ap-Alpha, dock, and then have Bieg Greevlix looked at by medical personnel." "As it should be. Proceed shuttle craft Beta-Beta. Bieg Ship, Terra Delta out." "Confirmed. Shuttle Craft, Beta-Beta out. Computer, initiate flight sequence Four-Twenty Nine Terra." Those words spoken, the hefty drone stood up and went back to where Julian and Terry lay and actually spoke verbally. "Sorry, gentlemen. You will be not going to the home-world today. I am taking you someplace else. I will apologize for the ride, it is going to be a fast and turbulent one. Should you feel sensation return to your bodies grip the sides of the table as tightly as you can." After a few more taps and beeps on the table he quickly moved back to the cockpit seat. The shuttle craft, once near the Star Ship Beta-ap-Alpha, suddenly pivoted and warped out from underneath it, heading straight for another star ship that was in a lower orbit than Beta-ap-Alpha was. Going underneath that ship, it then came out from under and struck the Earth's atmosphere. It took a few moments before anyone of command structure realized what was happening, and by the time they went to give orders, the tractor beams were bouncing off of the secondary star ship, and then the shuttle craft was lost in the Earth's atmosphere. Any attempt to retrieve Julian, Terry, and the Drone was now going to be done via shuttle craft to shuttle craft, or risk informing the Globe of their presence. Upon hitting the atmosphere, Drone Three-five-seven-one walked over to the tables Julian and Terry were on and started madly poking buttons in a furious sequence. "Initiating infusion of proper growth sequence now." Suddenly Julian and Terry felt as though a warm liquid was not only being pushed through their veins, but poured over their entire bodies. They felt flushed, they felt powerful, they felt aroused and growing into a extreme sense of horniness. Suddenly their proud masts of eleven and three-fourths inches was standing straight and tall from their groins and there wasn't anything either of the two men could do about it. As the shuttle continued its decent, the Drone pulled out more clothing like his and began to dress both Julian and Terry in them. Around the time he got shoes that managed to fit them on, the shuttle's speed slowed down, the craft came to hover over a spot, and make then make a landing. Helping the two to sit up. "Gentlemen, I wish I could help you acclimate yourselves to walking again, but we don't have enough time. You must relearn to walk by yourselves while I get our next mode of transportation. Computer, open back hatch, followed by releasing gases to mask energy trail, followed by going into cloaked mode." After giving the orders, the buff drone walked out of the hatch doors and towards a large thicket on the side of a small field the shuttle had landed in. As he began to clear away some of the bush, Julian and Terry began to stand up. First Julian kind of slid off the table landing on his two feet. This made a resounding thud which startled him and he looked above as if they were being attacked. "Relax." Said Terry. "That's you. Men our size have a tendency of making some fairly large thuds when walking. Muscle mass weighs more than just bone and fat and we've got a bit of the mass on us." "Oh... right..." Julian turned and attempted to walk out the hatch doors but wobbled and fell over. Terry was there, still a little off balance himself, but only due to not having walked and using those muscles for the last few days or weeks, perhaps months. He stopped down and put his right arm under Julian's left arm pit and then around the back until his right hand was under Julian's right arm pit. Draping Julian's left arm over his shoulder and holding it down by grabbing Julian's left hand with his, Terry smiled shyly at Julian. "Here. We're both going to be a bit wobblely from lack of movement. Perhaps we'll do better supporting each other." "It's so hard to move with these legs." "That's what happens when you develop large, powerful thighs. They get in the way of each other. Here... kick your legs out kind of sideways when you walk. That'll help." "Yes... it takes some of the pressure off of....ugh...." and Julian laughed nervously. "What? It's ok go ahead and say it." "It takes some of the pressure off my balls. How the hell do you do it? With the size of these thighs and these bull balls, it's like I'm racking myself every time I take a step." Terry giggled. "Just wait till you learn to walk around with your cock snaked down your pants or at home you say 'fuck it,' and you just walk around naked. The weight of your cock pulling on your groin. Fuck, it keeps one aroused and horny twenty-four and seven. I honestly believe I was only going to have like a nine inch cock or so, but once it got to that size, the weight began to pull and kept me at that aroused state so much, I think it forcibly caused my cock to grow the extra two and three-fourths inches due to constant erection." Julian laughed as he felt his own now huge cock throb and bob in his pants, aching for release from the confines or the touch of Terry. His mind was also processing so much more than his arousal and moving with quantum quads: moving with big huge feet; the longer stride at six feet four inches; the feeling of his muscles being so full and swole, hard, dense, and strong; the feeling of those muscles touching Terry's; the two sets of muscles bulging and shifting against one another fighting for space; the shirt rubbing on his newly enlarged and downward pointing nips, or the shirt rubbing and shifting all his new body hair; and the realization he was just as tall and big as Terry was. Eventually making their way over to the side of the field. The trio of men watched as the shuttle cloaked itself and became invisible. Then they turned their attention towards a pickup truck that was on a slight ridge of earth that was a well hidden dirt road. Unfortunately the wheels were halfway buried in the soft clay. "It must have rained since this vehicle was placed here. We need to lift it up and out. Gentlemen, I know this is asking a lot, but we can do this. You two grab a back side each, while I take the front." Terry nodded at Julian who had looked at him questioningly, and then took a position next to one of the truck's back wheels. Julian moved around to take the opposite side and the two grabbed the sides of the truck just above the wheels. The drone moved to the front and grabbing a hold of the front bumper called out, "On three gentlemen. One.... Two.....THREE!" Together the three strongmen hoisted the truck up out of the muck and then on the Drone's pulling as he began to walk backwards, moved it slightly ahead of the ruts it created. Once down the drone told Julian and Terry to get into the cab while he went back around and replaced all the loose bramble and brush into the position that originally hid the truck. Then he climbed in the truck, started it up, and the three took off down the road. It was a few minutes before anyone said anything, but it was Terry who initiated the conversation. "So...uhm.... Drone Three-five-seven-one?" "Call me, Dries. That is the name I will be going by where we are living, Dries Van Donk." "Alright.... Dries..... uhm where are we going and what do you mean 'where we are living?'" "Allow me to explain much. You were kidnapped by a race of what you would called space aliens. They refer to themselves as the Syriegs. The Syriegs helped create my people, the Nord'oks, from people on this planet. We are bred to be large and docile, perfect little drones to do most manual labor for them, especially the heavy stuff. "Now at the same time, they are still studying your race, humans, and how they have developed over the last two-thousand years. Oh yes, you haven't been alone and you've not be alone for quite some time. At any rate, that is why you were both taken originally, to see how human kind has developed physically, psychologically, and so forth." "Wait, so they plucked us two to be samples for the entire Earth?" "You are an extraordinary specimen, Mr. Mikicia..." "Terry, please, since you gave us your first name." "Alright, Terry. ... You are an extraordinary specimen of your species, Terry, but these are a scientific race of aliens, do not let pride think that you are the only person they have taken and observed." "It's like all those stories we've heard about, Terry. Those alien abductions and people only remembering glimpses, if they ever even realize they've been abducted." "Correct, Julian. Although they can mask ones abduction very well, the process is far from perfect. But some of us Nord'oks have decided to it is time to end this. Not only do we wish to achieve freedom for ourselves, but for the experimentation and observation of the human species to stop as well. In order for this to happen, we need more of you to be aware and coherent about your abduction. Obviously we cannot just drop you off back home as they would find you there, and now that part of Julian's missing growth pattern has been restored, he would stick out like a sore thumb there, identifiable to anyone who saw him. I, too, need a place where I can hide and blend in. Being large men the best place for us to do so is a country where men are fairly broad and large." "And where is that exactly?" asked Terry. "We are in the Netherlands. Specifically heading towards the town of Geldermalsen a little over an hour away from Amsterdam." "The men are pretty tall here but not necessary broad. That's usually more of the Norse." "Which is why those of us planning an escape like this, especially for you two, we chose the Netherlands. If your body frame is too bulky and built and stands out too much, it is fairly easy to cross over into the Scandinavian regions and blend in better there." "So why were Terry and I chosen to be kidnapped?" "With your family away on vacation, and a home located in the countryside you were easier to abduct with minimal effort. Also they wanted to study you as there was such a difference in your appearance, they wanted to know how the divergence amongst family members became so great." "Divergence among family members? We're not related." "You and Mr. Dealag are not related, Julian?" "No." Dries began to laugh low and long, continuing until Terry interrupted it. "What is so funny, and what did you mean earlier by Julian's missing growth pattern?" "Part of the reason why you two were going to go to the home world was because of your exceptional size and strength. Although many of my kind are taller than you are, Terry, you have an ample ability to become far denser and stronger than most of us. Your musculature was something in particular they wished to study and breed. Given Mr. Dealag's..." "Julian..." "Given Julian's frequent appearances at your house for so many years, and the fact he was there on a night where the rest of your family was gone, it was assumed you were relatives. This was believed even more so when you, Terry, told us that Julian should have equaled you in height, musculature, and sexual organ size. In turn that statement was collaborated by Julian's statement of how he had never grown since sixth grade and we found documents that supported this, plus his charts of how he was supposed to have grown." "oh...my...gawd...." "What is it, Julian?" "Hence the reason why they wanted you two to return to the home world, your genetic code was to make you giants among your people and they wished to exploit that." "Giant's among men...Julian what did you tell them?" "It's still so foggy... but I think when they asked me why I was so much smaller than you, I told them my fantasy story I've had since junior high." "And what was that?" "That I just stopped growing at the end of sixth grade for some reason and thus I was missing like almost half of my physical development." "And so they gave it to you and that's why you're as large as I am now." "That is incorrect Terry." "Incorrect, Dries? Look at him. That's what they did. He's every bit as tall and as strong and as hung as I am." "Although that is true, that isn't however the replacement of the lost growth spurt we thought he, and you, were supposed to have." "Wait, me? What?" "Since you said Julian was supposed to be as big as you, we figured his development had been stunted and we brought him up to your size." "Right." "But then we found the documents about what should have been his physical growth that he didn't receive and we programmed treatment for him to have them. Since that would've have put him quite a bit taller than you, and they thought you were family, the same treatment was given to both of you." "Just what kind of documents where these? Where did you get the information?" Julian groaned and finally croaked out. "It was my fantasy journals." "What?" "My fantasy journals where I wrote how I hadn't grown properly missing part of the average male growth spurt between ages 9 and 12, all of the small growth spurt between ages 12 to 14, the big growth spurt between 14 and 18. All of which is recorded in an Almanac of information from like twenty years ago." "Do not forget the other information, Julian." "What other information? Julian?" "I also had created fantasy documents. One that showed how most males grow about another two inches between ages 18 and twenty five, how excessive exercise can cause an increase of height between four to five inches, and how I, being as I was premature was shortened seven inches of growth in the womb coming out so much smaller than the average baby boy." "And given what we thought was supposed to be both you and Julian's current corrected height, we added two more inches on to that." "My gawd! Julian! We're going to be real live fucking hulks! We won't fit anywhere. What the hell were you thinking?" "I certainly wasn't thinking that one day an alien race would one day kidnap my ass, look at the documents, think they were actual medical documents, and make it all happen! It was just a fantasy. Something I dreamed up." "But why?" "Terry... you don't understand... You grew up. You GREW! You grew into a taller than average man with all these rippling muscles and strength and balls of exceptional virility with a massive tube steak. You and almost every other guy in school, although in varying states of packaging than the complete one you got. There I was... five feet nine inches tall at the end of sixth grade, twelve years old, standing taller than my father, as tall as most of the teachers. My family thought I was going to be huge! A giant! And I just stopped. More and more all the other boys just grew right past me, taller, broader, stronger, more hung, and then they all began to tease me and taunt me, pick on me, abuse me, and even though I fantasized about them, being with them, making love to many of them, I also wished I could grow to join them. Then I wished I could grow and become slightly bigger than them taking over their records, beating them in sports, eventually growing into a giant of a man that they would be powerless to stop. It just became an all waking fantasy that I couldn't get out of my head, that I jacked off to more and more, and the more I did so, the more I needed to create things to get me off. Doctored photos of me being so huge, the documents showing what kind of growth pattern I should've had...muscle growth stories that made me horny and feel powerful. ... ... ..." Terry turned his head and stared in silence at Julian until finally whispering, "Gawd.... Julian.... we really did a number on you, didn't we?" "Yes..." "Well, now you're bigger than most of the guys from high school. You're built like a tank and hung like a horse, just like me. There are some men bigger than us, but we're large enough to command respect at a glance. Your fantasies have become reality now. You don't need to feel timid, frightened, or insecure anymore." Julian looked up and while blushing smiled at Terry, who smiled a very reassuring and beautiful smile back. "You two are going to be much bigger than this." said Dries. "In fact it's one of the reasons why we needed to hurry and get to our new home. I activated the growth program so it would be more difficult to find you as their last records of what you looked like would become incorrect." "Won't they be able to calculate how big we'll be?" "No. I've sent a virus back through the systems erasing all your files and both the bieg ship, the shuttle craft, pad, and medical tables. Here we are gentlemen." Dries pulled the truck into a driveway on the outskirts of town and parked close to a large two story house that looked like it was oddly proportioned. "Wow...huge house." "Indeed. We weren't sure how tall you'd become so we got this place which is an old four story granary type barn. Hope fully the floors are high enough you'll have room to move, although we'll probably have to adjust the doors to accommodate you." As they got out of the truck, Dries turned and tossed the keys to Terry. "Here." he said. "Unlock the door. There's only two keys so shouldn't take you long to figure out. Julian, help me with these boxes." Peeling back a tarp, Dries revealed three boxes containing provisions packed in plastic or tins, as well as some mechanical tools and objects for helping to get appliances running. Stepping through the door and the corridors, Julian and Terry discovered what was to be their new home: Entering through the back door, they came into the a combination mud room, breakfast/dining nook and kitchen. On the wall farthest from them in the middle was an open squared archway and on the far right hand side as set of fairly enclosed stairs going up. Stepping through the doorway was a decent sized room with hutches, china cabinets, and a dining table. Opposite the kitchen-dining doorway was another doorway that led to a great room that rose up all four stories and showed exposed rafters. It contained three couches, some recliners, a large radio, TV, desks with computers, door to a half bathroom, and the grand stair case that led to the second story, at the bottom of which was front door out of the house. Upstairs all the bedrooms and their private baths were as tall as the downstairs rooms not counting the great room, two stories tall. Each had some kind of bed, nightstand, armoire, and chest of drawers." "Come, help me get the provisions unpacked and into the...what do you call it? Pantry. I will get the stove, furnace, and fireplaces going." "Not a probAAUUUUUGH!" Terry had started to answer while smiling at Julian and clasping him on the back, but he suddenly doubled over in pain that was coursing through his entire body. Julian let out a yelp as well, experiencing the same kind of sensations. "Are you two, alright?" "Not sure, Dries." said Terry. Dries looked at Terry then backed up a couple of steps. "What? What is it?" "The growth is beginning and beginning now. Your face is completely devoid of any facial hair." Terry looked over at Julian and could see his face was smooth as a baby's bottom as well. Reaching over for the ties of the shirt, Terry untied the ribbons and pulled the shirt apart in the front. His chest and abdomen were also as smooth and hairless as his face. Suddenly his chest began to deflate a little and his abs to become not quite so defined. "What's happening to us?" Terry queried loudly, but his resonant voice scooped up into higher pitches as he asked and soon he sounded more a like a young preteen, albeit a fairly large preteen. "The program is reverting you back in age in order to more efficiently produce the replacement growth into your bodies. Get to the great room now. We have no idea if you'll grow too tall for the other individual rooms." Julian and Terry bolted for the grand stair case and then dashed for the center of the great room before they both doubled over in pain. Dries showed up with a couple of round disks and placed one each in the upper corner of both men's left eyes. "There is not much I can do. You will be going through this process, but it is rushed. You will be experiencing a great amount of growing pains as your skeletons enlarge and lengthen, the same for your muscles. Just try to breathe deeply and slowly, or lie down on the floor and meditate. The disks I placed upon you will show you statistical information through your eyes as your body changes. Will this happens I will go sort out the provisions and get the stove started. You will be exceptionally hungry after this ends." Dries left to go into the kitchen as Julian and Terry became a little thinner and even less hairy. Then a hush fell as everything seemed to stop and then both men screamed as it felt like someone was stabbing them with ice picks being driven straight up through the palms, heels, knees, and shoulder blades and into their shins, thighs, arms, and spine. "It might help if we attempt some kind of calisthenics, slight workouts to take our minds off the pain of growth." "That might increase it too. Do you think that wise?" "We're going to be giant fuckers anyway; might as well go for broke." And so as the process began, Terry began to wrestle with Julian, forcing him to use his body to counteract Terry pinning him or holding him into submission. In between the moving, the holding, the pressing, the pushing Terry asked questions of Julian, which their bodies seem to answer. "What...what's huh huh...the first....urrf.....first part?" "Uhm... the make up of my small birth length. Seven inches I think." "No.... they increased it due to my height remember...." "Oh....yeah...OOOOOOOOOOO!" The growth hit them hard this time and as they watched their straight on vision rise up higher and higher they saw in their vision the stat's counter rise and rise in numeric value: 6' 5", 6' 6", 7", 8" 9", 10", 11", 7 Feet, 7' 1"...7' 2". "Oh shit... said Terry, dropping to his kneels with Julian nearly collapsing on top of him. That... that was fuckin intense. How many more of these spurts do we have to go through?" "Fa.....fa....four to five...more...or so....." "And the next one?" "Finishing up an uncompleted growth spurt between ages nine and twelve." "Oh good. Not too much theOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" [7' 3", 7' 4", 7' 4.5"] "Julian...these clothes are already getting too tight and we've not even filled out yet." "Fuck the filling out. My balls and cock are growing and they're being racked by the shrinking crotch in these pants." "What...huuuuuuh.... what's the next one?" "Pre-spurt between ages twelve and fourteen." "Alright and how much is AAAAAUUGH!" [7' 5.5", 6.5, 7.5, 8.5, 9.5] "I think you have your wish for loosening your pants, Julian." "Yeah... we've grown far too tall for these things. My feet have split out of the shoes...." "Mine split out during the first growth for our birth." Julian laughed, "Yeah....true that. Mine as well. But I just split out of these pants in the ass and crotch." "I can tell. Your cock is hanging out all limp between your legs, you horse fuck!" "Who's calling whom a horse fuck, donkey dick?" The two stared at each other laughing but with a very devilish grin on their faces. Suddenly the two of them reached out for each other's cock, attempting to grab it and stroke it. "Oh no you don't. You're gonna get the public boner before I do, Sir Schlong!" "Course I'm going to get a boner. You're freakin' hung like an adult male already. That is so fuckin' hot! Gonna see how big it becomes by strokin' you off." "NO YOU DON'T!" The two began to wrestle each other even more as they attempted to grab one another's penis and cause the other to have an embarrassing erection. Both of them pulling, stretching, effectively jelqing one another's prick. "AAAUGH SHIT ANOTHER GROWTH SPURT! WHICH ONE IS THIS?!?" "Uhmmmm ahhhh.... main one during teen age puberty...." [Access to local information readjusting calibrations for growth spurt. Men of your height should have something akin to NBA player David Robinson....] "Did you see that flash across your eyes, Julian? What the hell does that mean?" "I think it means, we better hold... hold on! NMMMMMMMRGFFF!" [7' 9.5", 7' 10.5", 7' 11.5", 8' .5", 8' 1.5", 2.5". 3.5", 4.5", 6.5", 7.5"] "Auuuugh...aughhhh oh shit... did we? Did we just grow ten inches?" "Yeah...." "I don't think even myself personally at 6' 4" had a ten inch growth spurt.... oh my....Hmmmmmf" "And the small college growth spurt between ages 18-25 now....auuugh." [8' 7.5", 8' 8.5, 9.5, 10.5, 11.5, 9' 1."] "Auuuuugh.... did that just say... nine feet one? Nine feet one inch tall?!?" "Yes... Terry....I....oooh...... I think..... so......keep rubbing.... it seems to lessen the pain and we have one more growth spurt to go through...." "One more?!?" "The adjustment of height due to physical activity." "Oh shit.... we've been really physical due to this....oooh my gawd." Julian and Terry suddenly doubled over into each other's arms and while staring at one another could no longer help themselves. Forgetting all pain of the growth spurts they were going through, they embraced one another and began to kiss passionately and hug and grope one another lustfully, collapsing to the floor in a heap made up of two giant male bodies in the process of stretching ever longer and longer. [calculating effect of athletic activity upon overall growth spurt.... ..... ..... 9'1", 2", 3", 4", 5", 6", 7", 8," 9", 10".... 9'10" tall.] The two men couldn't have cared less by this point. They were rolling around on the floor groping and hugging each other, kissing in mad passionate love. All the whole while their muscles began contracting and expanding, flexing and relaxing, swelling and popping, becoming ever larger, firmer, stronger, more striated, more defined, and denser than ever before. It wasn't too long before whatever pieces of clothing they had left on were being popped, snapped, ripped, and torn off by mountainous mounding of muscle growing on their frames. They went well beyond whatever conditioning Terry's body had been before. They were now truly muscle freaks of the large extra tall, extra heavyweight class of Olympic level bodybuilding. The little disks eventually flashing the total of 1,265.75 lbs for the young men's individual weight. Eventually Julian broke free from Terry and flipping him over onto his back cried out, "Oh fuck this... I want your muscle cock!" and dove onto it right as the disks flashed before their eyes....24 inches - 2 feet. And as he surprising went down on Terry, his mouth and throat somehow taking him all the way down and began to bob his head, each time his nose met Terry's crotch, the crotch got hairier and bushier, thicker and fully while Terry's body became covered in that fine, yet thickly feathered hair all over his body, and so did Julian's too. Eventually Terry had to stop Julian because Julian's two days worth of beard stubble was tickling the inside of this thighs and besides which, he was begging to fill Julian's tight, extremely bubbled butt with his petrified and petrifying pole. Terry had just pushed himself all the way in at Julian's insistence, when Dries walked back into the great room. "Gentlemen, I have dinn....oh! Oh my...." And with that he turned and went back into the kitchen while Julian and Terry writhed on the floor in lust and ecstasy. Two gigantic bodybuilders in love with one another and their bodies.
  15. FREaky

    Abduction: Part Two

    Abduction Part Two by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8794-abduction-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Gregorian chant. Something that sounded like Gregorian chant was playing, filling up Julian's ears. But it wasn't like that at all. It was not quite as hot? Cooler sounding, more logical feeling. It was flowing smoothly like Gregorian Chant did but with a brighter sound of electronics. It was as though Julian was at some holistic fair performing meditation, but on the set of some alien planet. Struggling to look around, Julian found he couldn't move his head, nor the rest of his body for that matter. Only his eyes could look and leer about. But everything at the edges were so bleary as if he was looking at the world through a TV. camera's fog lens. No matter how many times he blinked he couldn't clear his vision, and if he could would he be able to see anything? The area was so dark with only a bright light shinning directly above him. "That's it." He thought to himself. "I'm being operated on. The trip I took exasperated the blow to the head my abductor gave me." He kept blinking trying to wake himself up so he could ask questions about what was being done, what had happened to himself, but the blinking must have made him sleep, for he began to notice the pictures in his mind's eye weren't connecting as a living or film like experience. It was more like stills of the same room at different times with different folks. There were a couple of times he saw some people whom he didn't know. Two women and one man. They were very plain looking with very generic features, straight hair styled straight down and pulled back or cut very short and professional in the man's case. They were in straight lined, blue gowns or shirt and they spoke, but not to him. Looking across Julian they said things he couldn't understand or make out clearly. Still other times they looked down at him and said something, but Julian couldn't make it out and he couldn't tell if he was responding back. He didn't think so. Thinking to himself in one of his more semi-lucid states, "That must be a doctor and two nurses. I hope the man is the nurse. He looked cute... better chance of him touching me then." Julian smiled himself to sleep with that thought and then began waking up to someone or some people else. These were all men. All very big men. They all stood very tall between six feet four inches to seven feet tall. And were they ever muscled! Naturally thick bodies that looked they had each been training a number of years, but with white washed skin and hair that was the color of fire to strawberry blonde to platinum. It was like a convention of Norse people. As though all of these folks were descendants of the Vikings. The moved about him their arms raised at times as though they were carrying trays or something. Sometimes they came and stood by him and he could feel their large hands on his arms or legs and they would stare down at his face. They were all in some kind of wrap around sleeveless shirt. It was light grey in color with the edges trimmed in heavy piping. The front part of the shirt wrapped around from the left and tied on the right hand side. It gave a low v cut to the neck and head opening. Most of the men, their shoulders pulled the fabric up and out, as well as their chests barreling out and over pulled at the shirt opening as well. Each of their bodies pulling the top of the shirts open to reveal their great pectoral valleys. Their bulging delts and arms hung out and angles from their sides and the openings near the shoulders. Julian wished he could see further down, see if these shirts were all synched tightly at the bottom near these people's waistlines. He was developing a crush on these Viking reenacting orderlies or whomever they were. But then flashes of the occurring visions began to scare Julian. Much shorter men appeared to him, bent over him, looking at him as though he was under a microscope, and there were times he felt as though perhaps these men were poking him, prodding him, maybe even carving into him or...or... poking around in his brain! And then he began to realize these short men were not a pale skin white like the Viking styled men were, but they were a colorless, flat matte kind of white or ashen grey. And their eyes...their eyes! They were too large, pointed oval, slanted, and completely black. What did they want with him? What were they doing with him? Why was it with them he felt like his head was open! "Auuugh! Auuugh!" Julian began to thrash and move, quiver and shake, his head twisting to this side and that. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUGH!" Julian screamed as loud and long of a scream as he could ever do, and might ever do in his life. He had never felt as violated and as mortal as he did now. Not even the man, the supposed acquaintance who abducted him made him feel this unsecure about his safety or his life. He woke up from any kind of sleep and lie there on a table panting heavily and sweating profusely. "Ju...Ju...Julian?!" He heard a calm and deep voice say somewhat timidly. He knew he knew it but he couldn't quite recognize it. He found he could turn his head and so opened his eyes and attempted to look around and peer into the darkness that surrounded him. There on the other side of the room he was in was another table with a bright light directly above and shinning down on it. Filling up the slab was a man of goodly size and really grand build. The man had his head turned towards him and he could see his very handsome face: square jaw and chin that blended beautifully in very full and slightly chubby cheeks that sat atop very high cheekbones, soft and full pillow like lips underneath a square, slightly bulbous but very straight nose, and a pair of eyes that although slightly droopy on the outer corners, were big, full, and the richest kind of brown one could ever see. They were puppy dog kind of eyes that could at glance cause one to completely melt away and move the hardest of hearts. On top a thick mane of jet black hair ebbed and flowed down the sides and back of this man's head, pooling around his shoulders. Julian stared down the rest of this man's body, long, wide, thick with an incredible set of muscles, almost all of which were covered with a patterned of beautifully feathered, but somewhat thin jet black hair that all seemd to lay in pattern with the muscles they were covering. Julian looked back into the man's face which was slightly obscured by the dimness of the room but stared hard. "Julian!" the man hoarsely whispered. "Are you alright?" Julian just continued to star at the great muscled man and his face, Deep down he knew he recognized this man, and his voice. That rich deep bass that if spoken loudly just rolled and rumbled through one's ears and chest. Suddenly it was almost as if his vision came into focus, his mind became quite clear thinking. "Te...Terry?.... Terry Mikicia? Is that you?" "Yes. Yes. Julian. It's me. How are you doing?" "Good... I guess. As well as one could be while strapped upon an operating table in the middle of a....where are we? "I... I don't know, Julian, but I am so sorry." "Why?" "It's my fault you're here." "What do you mean it's your fault I'm here? I.... I don't understand." "Oh gawd.... let me.... let me explain." Julian wasn't sure how he wound up kidnapped with Terry Mikicia, his high school's star football quarterback. The boy who had everything: decent grades, killer looks, freakishly built body, and from all the locker room talk, had the longest cock and biggest balls any one, male or female, had ever seen. The young man should be at another university far away from where Julian was, participating in his Junior year of college hoping to start impressing scouts and decide on which professional National Football League he will sign a contract with after graduating a year later. "I don't understand. What do you mean? How did we get kidnapped by...by....whatever this is? Did they pick you up or before me?" "No.... auugh gawd.....No...Julian... they.... they....they picked us up together." "They didn't pick us up together, Terry. I was with another guy, kidnapped. Just escaped out of a barn in the middle of nowhere on some farm somewhere. I was nowhere near a major college football town. Just in that barn with this....huge....freakishly built....and....hung.....man...." "Oh gawd, Julian. I'm so sorry." and Terry began to break down and sob. "That was you?! It was you, wasn't it? Why? Why Terry? WHAT THE FUCK!" "I'm so sorry, Julian.... I had no idea we'd be kidnapped by... whatever... I guess... aliens. I didn't mean for anything like this to happen. I didn't mean to really hurt you either." "The blow to the back of the head kind of put a dent in that plan from the start, dickweed! Why? Why the hell did you need to kidnap me to have me... have me... what the hell do you call it? You forced me to make love to you so you can't really say I was raped...no wait you did eventually. You did eventually plow my ass! I called out for it! You got me to call out and beg for it, you son of a bitch!" "You don't understand. I had to know... I had to find out. All these mixed up feelings I had rolling around in my head. My heart. I didn't want to deny who...what... what I was, but I had to make sure it wasn't a fad before I acted on it." "What do you mean before you acted on it?" "You know I'm trying to go for a professional football career. I can't come out and truthfully hope to succeed, but if I really was gay, I didn't want to be an example of one of those men that stay hidden for years. What kind of example does that set for hundreds, thousands of struggling teens? I needed to make sure that it wasn't some kind of fad that I would grow out of. That my emotions, my arousals were really triggered by just men, or men and women, or just women. That way I could plan what my next course of action would be, how I prepared for attempting a professional career after school, not to mention how I continued my dating and searching for someone to be with the rest of my life. I've been so feed up at coming to the threshold with a woman and then...then....finding that I can't get it up or feel comfortable inside making love to her." "Why me? Why did I have to be the one to help prove whether or not you fly the great rainbow flag out of the pink triangle stand?" "Because you're gay..." "I figured that much out. There were a few dozen other homosexual guys from our class let alone our school." "I knew you liked very muscular men..." "Yeah yeah and how did you know that? It's not like I got to date any of them in high school. All the muscled boys were jocks who just as soon put me into my locker for the weekend." "We kind of did an experiment on you in gym class." "You did what?!" "When we noticed that you kind of stared at the more athletic guys of the class, we began to plan who was showering under the center showerhead. The one that stood across from the doorway to the showers. Which was directly across from the place you stood and hid while waiting for everyone else to be done with showering before you ran." "What...." "The more muscular the guy was the longer it took you to snap out of your daydream state and realize when the showers were empty." "You fuckers! So you chose me just because I'm gay and liked muscular men. You arrogant prick!" "No.... that's... that's not the only...uh....the only reason." "Oh great. So tell Dr. Phil here, what other possible psychological reason that you could have for choosing to fuck me against my will?" "You...ah.... you....you remember our tutoring sessions." "What you're getting back at me for failed grades or something? I did my best with you, but sometimes you never got it. Not because you couldn't comprehend it. Gawd....you are an exceptional smart man, besides being good looking and built, but sometimes you would wander off in day dream land thinking about the next great play on Saturday's game and you wouldn't pay attention to the lesson. It's not my fault that you di..." "I wasn't day dreaming about the next Saturday game." "Oh really? Then what was it? The next cheerleader you had to screw to prove your heterosexuality to the coach or your teammates?" "It was you." "Wha........ih....it was....what?" "It was you, Julian. I had a massive crush on you. You were so strong." "I wasn't strong. I was a skinny shit with thirteen inch upper arms that couldn't lift a twig!" "Not that kind of strong. You were strong of mine, of heart. You sang, you danced, you acted, you stated you were gay and were proud of it. The other jocks bullied you, punched you, threatened you, and yet even though there was no way you could physically ever win a fight against them, you stood your ground. And at the same time you still provided tutoring for some of them despite how they treated you. You showed real man colors by not only caring about those you loved and liked, but those who were cruel to you as well. You were brave, so brave and strong of character and mind. I was a weak sheep that just went with the herd. I so wanted to be like you and as such, wanted to be with you as well." "Oh....come on....you're....teasing me now....this is just a line of simple b. s." "No.... There were times in high school, especially around our senior year, I would fantasize about us being together. Sometimes I thought of ways to talk with you so we could be together after graduation. I didn't want to move away from you." "And that didn't let you know you were gay?" "No...my parents, the Church, pamphlets from other groups said it was just phase that young men go through. Something due to overactive hormones while going through puberty, and of course the church said it was wrong. Just a lie implanted into my brain by Satan himself." "And what brought you around to disregarding that?" "We're taught that anything we ask of God he will grant us, right?" "Well, anything that is as long as it goes with his own will." "So then if homosexuality is truly wrong, asking to have those feeling surprised forever or removed should be in his will, shouldn't it?" "I would guess so." "Well, he hasn't answered that prayer for me since I was eleven. That means that either it's not a sin to be homosexual or..." "It's a lie that God grants his followers anything." They lie there in the semi-dark and silence for a few minutes until Julian broke it again. "So... ... ... you really had a thing for me?" "Yeah." Terry laughed. "I had a major crush on you. You're still the man I kind of picture in my fantasies." "Well... that's...uhm....interesting...." "Why's that?" "You were the nicest of all the jocks to me. Not to mention the biggest built. I mean you were a fucking wall. Watching you develop in college via the news, it was just so hard to believe how much bigger you've become. I didn't think it was possible." "It wasn't easy." "I'm sure, but the point is, back then and now... you're in my fantasies. I used to fall asleep at nights rubbing an extra pillow, pretending that I was laying next to you tracing your abs with my finger and running my hands through your chest hair." "You like my chest hair? Most girls usually asked me if I'd shave smooth." The two laughed and allowed the silence to descend in the room once again. After a long time Julian turned to look at Terry. "Terry, you still awake?" "Yeah." "So this is it, huh. What an alien abduction feels like?" "I think so. I think this is what that is. You know with those short, "almond eyed" guys running around." "So, what do you think they wanted with us? What are they hoping to explore?" "Can you think of anything you said to them?" "Not sure. I'm starting to recall, but it's too fuzzy." "I might be able to help. I kind of figured I might help give you a gift so to speak." "A gift? How?" "I remember parts of one conversation. They were all concerned about your size, proportions, wondering why I was so much bigger than you. They mentioned something about you saying something about wishing you were bigger. ... ... ... Any rate, I agreed with that statement, saying you were supposed to be as big as me, equal in every size. I figured if they did any scientific experiments on us, if we ever got let go, maybe at least you'd have the kind of bod that would attract more muscular men you liked. If not, maybe at least it'd allow you to develop some kind of musculature on your cute little bod." "Well, I don't think that's happened? How do I look to you?" "Still that same cute average guy that I had a crush on." Julian smiled, Terry giggled, and the two sat in silence again for a while. Eventually Julian figured out the pitch of the humming sound the room was making and began to hum and sing songs that were in tune with it. Terry even joined in on a couple of choruses. They joked and laughed and wondered if any other abductees ever sang while being held and would the aliens flip out wondering if they had gone insane. They were about to start on one more song when Julian stopped and commented. "I've got to rest for a moment. My throat is a little dry. Man, they turned up the heat in here. Did they think we were raised in the tropics of the Earth?" "Heat? It still feels a little cool in here. I've still got goose bumps." "I'm beginning to burn up, I think. I'm breaking out in a sweat. I feel like my skin is on...AUUUUGH!" "Julian?!?" Julian moaned low, "auugh...it felt like I was just kicked in the balls, and I mean that's a man your size was a soccer playAUUUUUGH!" "JULIAN!" Terry turned to look at Julian. He saw Julian turn his head towards him, but his eyes were slightly rolled back and his mouth was agape. "HUWAAAH!" Julian let out another gasp and his eyebrows rose up in the center as his face registered nothing but pain. He would have doubled over but being strapped down on the platform. Suddenly Terry could see movement around Julian's groin. His cock was rising up, but not as if it was swelling to an erection, but like something was lifting it up. Squinting through the dimly lit space, Terry finally could see that Julian's balls were swelling, growing becoming a bit large on his frame. Maybe even a bit large on anyone's frame, but yet they didn't seem too out of proportion for some reason. "Oh shit!" "What?" said Julian. "Nothing... just breathe. Take slow and long, deep breaths." "Why? Why? What's happening." "I'm not sure, but I have an idea. Just lie back and breathe." "Ok but I don't know if I just re-AUUUUGH!" Another moan and Terry saw Julian's balls expanding once again. This would happen several more times until Julian had a most ample set of balls. Testicles whose shape and size were all too familiar to Terry. "OOOOOOH!" Another low and shuddering moan and suddenly Julian's cock began to just ooze out of him like a snake slithering out of his hole. The head moved forward, wriggling, squirming, as the body, or in this case the shaft continued to extend and extend out of Julian's groin, growing longer and longer, and thicker by the second. This too was a shape that Terry knew all too well. Another series of grunts and groans and a few glances from Terry, he could see that Julian's hands and feet were pulsing and lengthening, becoming thicker, wider, meatier, stronger and more sturdy. Out and out they grew until Julian began to look like one of the odd, lanky alien species as seen in Star Trek or Star Wars, the ones with thin bodies and extremely long feet and fingers. Soon his contortions and stretches began to spread out all over his body. Twisting and turning he kept edging out to either end of the table; longer, taller, higher. His body growing to match his feet and hand sizes, but still maybe not quite his cock and ball size. The shackles began to chaff and cut into his wrists and ankles now as they moved up or down away from the anchor they were tethered to. The air began to fill with the sounds of breaking and knitting bone in an eerie din. Meanwhile, the straps that went across his chest and knees began a migration inward towards the center of his body. The chest straps moved down to the top of the abs while the knee straps moved on up the thigh. Then Julian's body began to rise slightly, having some kind of spasm that looked as though as his body was being given one of those shocks for restarting someone's heart beat. Up and Up, over and over again, Julian's body lurched and rose and each time it did so, his body swelled out that much larger. His muscles were growing - all of them! All of them were inflating at once. The air was now filled with the sound of stretching as the skin got tighter and tighter across Julian's body, while the muscles inflated more and more, grew denser and harder, bulged and creviced, throbbed and pulsed. Like so many scenes from superhero cartoons, or descriptions in muscle growth stories that Terry - and Julian - had secretly read or watched, Julian's body was now mimicking the hero and swelling more and more with greater and greater power. Soon Julian's moans began to change from grunts of pain to moans of ecstasy. His cock began to grow again, but this time was rising in erection. Terry could see Julian's nipples begin to stick out hard and firm as well as his new mammoth schlong rising and rising up into the air and eventually smack and point to his abs. Fuller and fuller Julian's muscles grew, more defined with deeper crevices, swelling mounds, and interstates of blood carrying veins criss-crossing his body, covering the muscles, the crannies, the striations feeding them, accentuating them. Shortly thereafter hair began to appear and coat Julian's body. Not so thick as to look almost matted, but enough to decently cover most parts of the body, to feather out into patterns that lay with the shape and contour of the muscle it lay upon. A few more swells and the straps and shackles began to snap and pop, unable to contain the hulking figure that lie there, equal in mass, strength, size, virility, and stamina to Terry. "Oh! OH! OOOOOOH! HUGGGGGGGGGGH!" The sounds coming out of Julian were those of someone about to experience sexual climax. Terry stared at Julian, trying to study his face, but he couldn't help looking further down to watch Julian's prick bob and shake and swell just that much larger. Something that had begun happening to him the moment he saw Julian begin to swell with newfound muscular power. Then Julian suddenly awoke out of the unconsciousness the pain had put him under, he shouted a few exclamatory "ohs!" and then practically growled in a new bass voice that equally matched Terry's and caused such a rumbling in not only Terry's chest, but his balls as well, that at the very moment Julian released a load that looked like it came from two men, Terry's back arched, his head snapped back and he gushed for a load of equal size. The two men lie there, chests heaving, cum running in rivulet's down all sides of their chest and their abdominals. Julian fell unconscious again, while Terry lie there in a erotic stupor, their chests rising high in the air, such huge swelling slabs of beef.
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