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by Brandedx2 (Like this story? Find more tales of huge guys getting taken down a peg at my tumblr and if you have a custom tale you want me to spin up for you, let me know! I do commissions.) People could tell, Rob knew. He had clients to train, he still had a workout to get in himself (if it even mattered, now), so he was stuck there at Global Gym. He had a reputation at Global as the biggest bodybuilder in a gym full of heavy competitors. He was also known as one of the most approachable guys in the gym, imposing in stature but by all means a gentle giant. He had a number of fans in the gym’s clientele, as well as the gym’s owner Clem and his idolizing son Terry. Everybody cheered when he got his pro card the previous year, all in agreement that there wasn’t a more deserving athlete around. Rob was used to having all eyes on him. But after what Tuck had done to him that day, those eyes made his veins cold. Between clients Rob eyed the scale outside the locker room. He’d been avoiding it all day, terrified of what it was going to tell him. He tried to let his eyes, the way his body felt, be enough, but he had to know. He hopped on the scale and looked down: 240. That morning, when he’d weighed himself after getting out of bed, he’d been 284. He’d walked in the gym that size. And then, standing in the locker room, he heard the shrill laugh of his least favorite “client” and turned around to see skinny, tattooed little Tuck in his usual tight wife-beater and cargo shorts, cracking his knuckles and looking Rob up and down with a look that always made the big bodybuilder shiver. “…just a little bit?” Rob said, side-eyeing Tuck, wishing he could get away from the little guy who was inching closer to him. “…just for a little while?” “Big fella!” Tuck said with a laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t like having me around. Yeah just a little, yeah just for a little bit.” Rob looked around quickly to make sure no one was around when it happened (Tuck probably didn’t even care—he didn’t care about much) and then Tuck, wiggling his fingers wildly, reached out and poked him. He felt a sudden chill, and just like that, the size drained right out of Rob and into Tuck (forty-four pounds, he would find out later). His shorts fell to the ground and his tank top hung down like a dress without the rest of his bulk to fill it out. By all accounts he was still a big man, but nowhere near the massive size he’d been a moment before. Tuck looked like a heavy-weight prize fighter with all of the extra mass, and he’d even got taller. He shadow-boxed a bit, flexed his new muscles while Rob sadly examined his own diminished form. Tuck gave him a shove (he stumbled forward, not expecting the sudden force and his own lack of mass) and then took off. Rob had clothes he kept in the bottom of his gym bag for the times that Tuck “borrowed” from him; they were his old workout clothes from several years before, back before he’d gained the mass that made him a terror to the superheavyweights onstage. He remembered being that size and feeling big, but going back to it was too much. What was worse, the smaller shorts and t-shirt still looked baggy on him. Rob was used to stretching XXXLs to the limit, and he couldn’t even fill out an XL. Tuck had taken more that day than ever before. There was nothing Rob could do to fight it. Tuck had all the power. He had to play nice and wait until Tuck was done playing around with his mass, until he decided to give it back. That feeling of weakness was almost too much for Rob to bear. “What’s up big man?” said Leon, a big powerlifter and Rob’s occasional lifting partner, taking a break from his heavy squats. Leon used to say Rob was the only guy big enough to spot him. Rob nodded back as they passed each other, terribly aware of the difference in their sizes. Rob hadn’t felt that small next to somebody in awhile. Later on his client Carlos turned to him during posing practice, while holding a front double bi, and smirked in his direction. “Hey, Big Rob, my guns are looking big as yours, no?” Carlos took a step toward him to compare. Rob backed away and swatted at him. “In your dreams, buddy,” he said. “You’re good. Hit the locker room.” Meanwhile across the gym, Tuck was curling a loaded barbell with sloppy form, showing off for a few spandex-clad ladies doing lunges nearby. Girls had always been the core of Tuck’s objectives in stealing size from him, Rob noticed. At the end of the day, Rob paced around the locker room, a little panicked. He hadn’t seen Tuck in a couple of hours, and after searching the entire gym Rob couldn’t find him. “Oh, hey Rob,” Clem said, walking through the gym about to lock up. “I didn’t know you were still here. I can leave you the keys if you still want to work out.” Rob felt a pit in his stomach. What if Tuck took off this time? It would take years to build all that size back, if Tuck’s power even allowed that possibility. “Uh… Thanks, Clem, I think I’m gonna hang out here for a bit if you don’t mind.” Clem smiled and tossed Rob the keys. “You in a heavy cut phase or something?” Clem said, looking him up and down. “You look like you dropped some pounds.” “I’ll be bulked back up again soon enough,” Rob said, praying that was the truth. Tuck strode in with a loose swagger over an hour later. Rob would’ve knocked the kid out if he wasn’t so terrified of the kid. “Sorry, Bobby,” Tuck said, scratching his crotch. “I was plowing this chick out in the parking lot just now. She could not get enough of this!” he said, gesturing to his physique. “Oh, man, what’d you think I wasn’t coming back? Bobby, you wound me, buddy. You really wound me.” Rob shrugged and feigned a smile. “Naw, I knew you were coming back.” “I suppose you want to go back to normal,” Tuck said. Rob bit his lip and clenched his fists. “Man, you are such a big baby sometimes, Bobby. You’re lucky I love you.” Then he flicked Rob right in the forehead. Rob’s mass returned in an instant, and he felt a sudden pain all over as he burst through his clothes. They fell to tatters and Rob stood there, massive and naked, his posture finally relaxing after a brutal day. Tuck burst into riotous laughter at the sight of the giant man exploding out of his clothes. “Bobby, you are ridiculous, buddy!” said Tuck, once again five feet and a hundred pounds. He walked out of the locker room and Rob patted himself down, thankful to be himself again. That was all Rob heard of Tuck for awhile. Usually he could count on a visit from Tuck every month, whenever the little guy was itching for girls at the gym, but several months passed and Rob was relieved to find that Tuck didn’t come around. His career started turning up, as well: he got a huge sponsorship deal, a photoshoot with Flex magazine, and Clem asked him to be the face of Global gym. The first day it was unveiled, Rob looked humbly at the larger-than-life size poster of himself, twenty-feet tall, outside Global gym. He couldn’t believe where his hard work had taken him, and he couldn’t have asked for a better place to do work. Terry, Clem’s beefy son, greeted Rob at the door. “Your picture looks awesome!” Terry said with stars in his eyes. “Thanks Terry,” Rob said warmly. “One of these days you’re gonna be up there.” “There’s Big Hollywood!” Leon said and punched him in the shoulder. All eyes in the gym were on Rob. He couldn’t feel prouder, until he walked into the locker room and saw Tuck standing there. “Bobby! You’re a big deal now, aren’t ya!” Tuck said, arms crossed, a sly grin on his face. “Aw, Bobby, you always clench up when you see me. If I didn’t know better I’d think you weren’t happy to have me around!” Rob looked around quickly to make sure the locker room was clear. “Uh… Tuck, I… what do you… doing?” Tuck smiled. “Relax, big Bobby.” He pulled out a wad of cash. “This time we’re gonna train. Regular. Big man teaches little guy how to lift weights. Deal?” He extended a hand. Rob, relieved, shook it. “Finally want to start adding some mass of your own, huh?” Tuck handed over the cash. “Look, Tuck, if you’re really serious, I can take over your diet, your supplementation… Hell, I can get you juice if you want it. Just say the word, buddy.” Tuck started stripping out of his clothes, stood there naked, a little awkwardly close to Rob. “See, thing is, Bobby, there’s this chick out there right now who will blow your MIND. Huge tits, ass like heaven, body that looks like it was built to fuck… Man, she’s got me DROOLING, Bobby, but she’s only into massive guys. Like big giant freaks your size.” Rob grinned as he put his gym bag in the locker. “Don’t worry, Tuck. I won’t steal her from you.” Tuck, still naked, bounced his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m not worried about that one bit, big Bobby.” Then he grabbed a handful of Rob’s big back. It hit Rob hard this time, like needles everywhere. His body compressed so fast everything was a blur, and he found himself stumbling around, his arms and legs suddenly tangled up. His head ached for a moment, and he felt like he was going to throw up… then the vertigo passed and he looked around, shocked at how much bigger the locker room had gotten. His tank top and compression tights were tented around him, and as he stood he watched his whole body slide through the neck hole. His body—that couldn’t be his body! Still tan, but tiny all over, a size he’d never been even in adolescence: shoulders, arms, legs, chest, all so narrow and bony. Even his dick was tiny now, and he put one tiny hand down to block it. He felt exhausted, and like he was moving in slow motion. Then he noticed the huge shadow cast over him. “Fuck YEAH!” roared a low, bovine voice. The sudden eruption scared Rob so much he tumbled over, his little heart pounding rapidly at the sight before him: Tuck was ENORMOUS, every part of him bloated with massive muscle, skill covered in tattoos which made the presentation all the more intimidating. Tuck aggressively hit a crab shot and grinned at the mirror—Rob had never seen anybody so big! Terrified, he scrambled backwards, eager to get away from the giant man stomping and flexing and growling. “Where do you think you’re going?” Tuck said, tossing his old wife-beater and shorts at Rob. “You agreed to a training session. Only it’s gonna be me showing YOU how to move weights, little man! Get dressed little guy. I’m gonna borrow your old clothes—seeing as you couldn’t use them for anything but a circus tent!” Tuck gave his now-massive cock a swing. “Hopefully I can fit all this in there,” he laughed as he pulled on Rob’s clothes, which fit like skin. “Let’s go little guy.” Rob felt like he was going to be sick as he walked out on the floor. He had to take two steps just to keep up with giant Tuck’s long stride. All eyes were on them—or rather, they were on the massive tattooed beast Tuck had become. Rob was shaking. He was terrified that someone would recognize him, but as he walked out, he realized nobody was even looking at him. That was almost worse. “Grab some dumbbells, little man,” Tuck barked. “Time to do some curls.” He crossed his arms and smirked down his chest at Rob. Rob headed over to the weight rack—how much would he be able to lift? He looked toward the smaller weights. He reached for the 20s, but a young guy—a guy who had asked for Rob’s autograph and some lifting advice the day before—elbowed him out of the way and grabbed them himself. Rob grabbed the 15s and walked over to Tuck, who tilted his chin at him. “What are you waiting for? Curl!” Tuck growled. Rob strained. He couldn’t believe he could get his arms to bend. “I… I can’t…” he said quietly, shocked at how soft and high-pitched his voice was now. Tuck laughed and slapped his knee. “Are you serious? You can’t even curl those?” He walked over and grabbed some 80s. “Lemme show how to curl, little guy!” His form was sloppy but his massive physique still impressed everybody around. Tuck winked at a blonde fitness model nearby. Her name was Catherine, Rob knew; she did only go for monsters. She’d been flirting with him a lot that week, and he’d thought about giving her his number. “Go get some water,” Tuck said, racking his dumbbells and heading over to Catherine. Rob was stunned by the height of the water fountain, which was now at about eye-level to him. He stood on his tiptoes to reach it, barely getting water in his mouth. He turned around and ran into what felt like a brick wall—it was Leon, who looked GIGANTIC to Rob now. “Watch where you’re going,” Leon said politely, yanking little Rob to his feet with one hand. Rob glanced across the weight room and saw beastly Tuck, now making his pecs dance while he chatted with Catherine. He had a little time, he figured, so he quickly headed to the locker room. His gym bag felt massive to him as he fished it out of his locker—it was bigger than he was now! He had to text his clients and reschedule before they showed up. As he struggled with the zippers, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “That doesn’t belong to you, sir!” A strong hand yanked little Rob away from the bag, and another yanked the bag away from him. It was Terry, who was now twice the size of Rob. Terry gave little Rob a shove. “Theft is grounds for termination of membership.” “I-I wasn’t stealing!” Rob pleaded. “I was just… I thought it was mine.” “What’s your membership number?” Terry asked with an eyebrow raised. “0-1-6-1-1,” Rob blurted out, suddenly realizing Terry had no doubt memorized his number. “Uh-uh,” Terry said, grabbing Rob forcefully. “You’re outta here.” Rob begged him to stop, told him he could explain (even though he had no idea what he would say) but still Terry very easily dragged little Rob to the door while everyone in the gym stared at the scene. “My coach!” Rob begged, pointing at Tuck, who was too wrapped up in Catherine’s admiration of his giant body to notice. “He’ll explain!” “Nope,” said Terry, shoving Rob hard. “Beat it, or I’m calling the cops, reporting you for theft and trespassing.” Flat on his back outside Global Gym, Rob stared up at the giant image of himself at full-size and burst into tears. It was too much. He looked up and saw Terry on the phone inside and quickly pulled himself to his feet and walked to his car. He tried the locked doors, realizing that his keys were inside, in a bag that belonged to someone he didn’t look like anymore. He walked around to the opposite side of the car and crouched down as it began to rain. Everything would be fine, he told himself—as soon as Tuck set things back to normal, everything would be fine. Hours later he saw Tuck strutting from the gym, holding Catherine’s hand. Rob stood up and sprinted for the two—but they were on Tuck’s crotch rocket before he could get there. Tuck sped away, never even acknowledging little Rob, stood there in shock, wondering if he was ever going to see Tuck again.
[If you like this story please pop over to brandedx2.tumblr.com to see more stories like this and more. Want a commission done? Hit me up!] Big Barney's Bouncer Blues It was only 8 o'clock and Barney already had a potential brawl in the bar that he’s got to diffuse. As he rushed inside, wedging his barrel-shaped body through the clusters of drunk college kids, it dawned on him that was only 8 o'clock and Barney already had a potential brawl in the bar that he’s got to diffuse. As he rushed inside, wedging his barrel-shaped body through the clusters of drunk college kids, it dawned on him that this scuffle might be his own fault. Barney was the head bouncer at the Draft, where entitled kids with heir dads’ credit cards drank $1 well drinks until they couldn’t even stand. He worked the front door, maintained the line outside, and ID’d the little shitheads as they came in. “I take shits bigger than these fuckers,” Barney often thought as he compared his bulky powerlifting frame to the bony kids in skinny jeans walking in and stumbling out. That night Barney saw Craig Oxfelter, the star left tackle of the university team, approach the front door with his hot little blond girlfriend. Of all these little runts, Ox, as Barney called him, was the only one he can respect. He was 325 lbs of shaven-headed athletic steel, and at 6’ 6" tall, towered over his peers. Even Barney felt a little tinge of intimidation when he shook Ox’s big bearpaws. On top of being an absolute beast, Ox was polite and respectful, even though he could fold most of these kids (and, to be honest, Barney himself too) in half with little effort. So Barney waved Ox and his sweet little girl over and let them cut the line. “Thanks Bar,” Ox said with a massive fist bump. Of course, this little blonde-haired fratkid, acting like he had big arms in a size S tank top, had something to say. “What the fuck is this? Big fucking caveman gets to cut the line but we gotta wait?” Barney knew the kid’s name: Clifford York the third. He’d tossed him and his two little lackeys Ben and Paul, who were at that moment rallying to their buddy’s side in their equally unimpressive tank tops, out of the bar a handful of times before. “Easy little guy,” Barney said to Clifford as Ox and his girl strode into the bar. “When you’re the big man you can call the shots, got it?” The three frat boys roiled a little to themselves but seemed to get over it. Until later, when the bouncer Barney called Hawkeye (because nothing ever escaped him) saw the three frat boys confronting Ox near the dance floor. Ox and Clifford were chest to chest (or rather, chest to stomach, since Ox towered over his opponent) when Barney got there so he immediately put his brawny body between them. It was a rare sight, Ox moving toward violence off the field. Normally he was a peaceful giant everybody loved, or at least knew better than to screw with. “I’m getting real sick of having to toss you guys out of here,” Barney said to Clifford and his sidekicks. “That’s bullshit. You automatically side with the big mongoloid?” chirped Clifford. Guys like him, who did crunches and curls and called it a day, loved to mouth off to bigger dudes. If the big dude walks away he’s a pussy. If he swings he’s a bully. Barney was tired of little fucks like him, but since he was on the clock, he decided to be diplomatic. Turning to Ox (and a little worried, because Ox was barely putting any force in and Barney still had trouble holding him back), “You don’t want this, Ox. You’ve got too much going for you. And they don’t want this either, big man,” Barney said, thumbing at the three underfed guys behind him and eyeing up the big bald lineman, who was big and solid as a brick wall. “They know you’d squash these fuckers with one hand!” “I’d like to see him try!” Cliff shouted. He reminded Barney of a little yippy dog. “Me and my boys would cream that dumb ape.” Barney tried to surpress a smirk. “C'mon, Bar, they’ve been heckling me since we came in, harassing my girl,” Ox rumbled in his deep voice. “You’re better than these little pipsqueaks,” Barney said. “Just head to the bar and grab a drink for yourself and your lady, on me, and ignore these Mosquitos.” Ox shook his head, grabbed his girl’s hand and headed to the bar. Then Barney turned to the frat trio. “You guys start any more trouble in my bar and I’m banning you for good.” Clifford leaned forward to retort, but his buddy Ben grabbed him and whispered something in his ear. Then all three of them got these shit-eating grins that made Barney want to knock them all out right there. But then they bowed their heads and dispersed back into the crowd. “No more troubles in the bar,” Clifford said in his weaselly voice. Back at the front door, Hawkeye spotted some kids drinking smuggled beers in the line about twenty people back. Hawkeye was a sturdy kid, but Barney decided to handle it. He was roughly the size of a refrigerator with the kind of size only a lifetime of heavy deadlifting can build. He easily yanked the beers away from the punks and one-handed them each into the street. As he returned to his post, Hawkeye looked panicked. “I just saw Ox follow those three punks out the side door to the alley!” he blurted out. Barney darted around the building to the alley, hoping he got there in time to stop Ox from turning those guys into three messy stains on the wall. The alley was foggy for some reason (fucking kids and their vapeing), and dark (because Mel, the owner, was too cheap to buy a lightbulb for back there) but as the fog cleared, Barney saw the three frat guys, completely unharmed. Ox was nowhere to be found. “You punks come out here to fight?” Barney said, looking around for the massive lineman. “Just to talk,” Clifford said with a smarmy look on his face. “And the big meathead decided he was headed home.” The story didn’t add up, but nothing about this scene did. “All right, back inside. I’m seriously on my last nerve with you guys.” He let them back in through the back door. Before he left the alley Barney heard something weird–a high-pitched moaning from behind the alley dumpster. Sure enough, leaned up against the wall back there was a tiny little bald kid, completely wasted. With a deep sigh, Barney hoisted the kid to his feet. He was light as a feather, couldn’t weigh more than 90 lbs, 5 feet tall if he was lucky. Barney chuckled when the kid’s sleeve fell back to reveal a tribal tattoo that looked ridiculous on his bony arm. “Kids think they can just buy their badassness. Too lazy to lift up a damned weight.” When he got a good look at the shrimp, stumbling on unsteady legs, he worried that they’d served a minor, but it was just a really small, underdeveloped guy. Barney didn’t remember seeing the kid come through the front door, but then again he was so small he might have just slipped by. The shrimp was completely obliterated, no doubt because a guy that size would be wasted on only a couple of beers. “Can’t drink like the big fellas, can ya little guy?” Barney chided. He really was tired of picking up after little punks who didn’t know their limits. The shrimp tried to focus his eyes. “Baaaarrrrrr…” he moaned, his voice so high Barney doubted he kid’s testicles had dropped yet. “No more Bar for you little guy,” Barney said, hoisting the shrimp over his shoulder and walking him out to the front. Sure enough, the night remained interesting: Hawkeye had seen the frat trio again harassing Ox’s girlfriend, but Ox was nowhere in sight. “I’ll deal with them,” Barney said. “You take this little guy and get him in a cab and out of my sight.” He handed the shrimp over to Hawkeye like he was nothing. When Barney saw Clifford getting grabby with Ox’s girl, he took great pleasure in grabbing Clifford by his pencil neck and hoisting him into the air, marching him out the front door. He swung wildly but his Barney barely registered the struggle, or the protests of Clifford’s little lackeys. Barney tossed Clifford on the sidewalk. “As long as you see me at this front door I don’t ever want you coming back!” Barney declared. A small crowd gathered around to see. Clifford hopped to his feet and Barney hoped he would throw a punch. He couldn’t wait to waste the kid. But Clifford’s two buddies grabbed him, again whispering in his ear, and the fight left Clifford’s body. He dusted himself off and confidently walked away. As they passed Hawkeye, Clifford stopped to point at the shrimp, who was propped up against the building and barely coherent. The shrimp lunged at the three but Hawkeye easily caught him and pulled him back–a mercy move; even if he’d been stone sober, the frat guys would have easily wasted the little pipsqueak. Barney was thrilled to see the three disappear around the corner. “I’ve got a cab coming,” Hawkeye said, steadying the shrimp with one hand. “Thing is, the address this kid’s giving me is the football house. No way does he live there.” “Doesn’t matter,” Barney said. “I’m tired of looking at him.” Ox’s girlfriend stopped to thank Barney on her way out the door. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Barney asked. “He left like an idiot to fight those punks and never came back,” she said. “I’m kind of pissed at him.” Suddenly, for some reason, the shrimp whimpered and reached out for her. Poor guy was struggled to get even a single word out but was too wasted to do even that. “You know this kid?” Barney asked. She backed away with a look of disgust on her face. “Never seen him before in my life.” As she walked away, Hawkeye threw the shrimp in a cab. He held one skinny arm out the window as it pulled away like he was reaching for her. “What a creep,” Barney said, happy to finally have all of this college kid nonsense resolved with his night almost over. “I’d hate to be him when he wakes up tomorrow.” The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and Barney was thrilled to finally punch out and head home. Tomorrow was a big squat day, and he had to be up early. Still, the night kind of felt unresolved. In the parking lot Barney spotted the trio again and his adrenaline surged. Clifford was leaning against his car! Now that he was off the clock, with no witnesses, he couldn’t wait to put these punks away. “I’m giving you one warning to step away from my car, and I’m really hoping you choose to ignore it.” Barney walked slowly now, swinging his huge arms to emphasize his bulk. He couldn’t wait to cream these fuckers. “I tell ya what,” Clifford said without moving a muscle. “You move me from this spot and we’ll all take off, and you’ll never have to see any of us again.” Barney snorted. He grabbed a handful of Clifford’s shirt, noticing that the two sidekicks had moved in to flank him. But before he could do anything further, all three started to chant in some weird language–like Latin played backwards or something. Just the sound of the words made Barney’s head hurt and shocked him breathless. Suddenly a thick fog rolled in around him, so dense Barney couldn’t see anything. As it slowly dissipated, Barney was shocked to see Clifford, whose shirt he still held in his hand, had gotten huge somehow! Barney was staring up at him–and, he realized in a panic, the two others behind him! He let go of Clifford and stumbled back, disoriented. Then he noticed it wasn’t just the frat guys: his car, all the other cars, the whole parking lot had gotten bigger somehow. Then he looked down and saw an unfamiliar body. Since he was a teen his bulk had impeded his view of the ground, but now his body was narrow and spindly. His clothes had shrunk to accommodate his new body, now the size of a ten year old. “What? How?” Barney squeaked in his new body’s voice, a pit in his stomach that grew with Clifford’s widening smile. “A little fraternity magic. A trick we use to get rid of our enemies. So come on, big man. The deal still stands. Move me and we’ll leave.” Clifford’s flunkies each grabbed one of Barney’s scrawny arms, holding him easily. Little Barney audibly pissed his pants and the three fratboys keeled over with laughter.
Coach had started me on some new drug he wouldn’t tell me anything about asides from “You’ll get gains like you’ve never seen” and a cryptic warning to “keep it in my fucking pants”, as in no sex, no masturbation, no release what so ever. Now normally this wouldn’t bother me…too much despite my high libido I can hold off for some time if need be but something was different while I was on this miracle drug. I’d been using it for two weeks now under the constant supervision of my coach and made some amazing strides in mass and strength, I’ve gained over 20lbs of muscle and broken every single one of my max lifts by a substantial amount. Hell all of my clothes look like they’re going to burst off me now with such growth in a short time but the one thing that has been worrying me the most is…well…my junk has been effected too, both my dick and balls are constantly swollen and very tender. In fact I swear they’ve grown along with the rest of me. Though even if I wanted to finally jack off and get rid of some pressure in my over burdened sack it damned near hurts to even touch it so I’ve left well enough alone. Today coach and I are making a video for his social media and he’s made sure I’m wearing my spandex clothes to show off my recent size as his prize client. He’s had hands all over me during the video to demonstrate for viewers the proper movements, my body is so sensitive at this point any touch is electrifying to me and my swollen muscles and genitals constantly rubbing my spandex clothes are keeping me on edge the entire video shoot. I’d thought if coach doesn’t stop soon I’d blow on camera but we thankfully finished before I did. I headed to the locker room to calm myself down and got a look in the mirror just how fucking obvious my excitement was now, my dick was pointing straight up half way up to my chest rubbing on my abs with every movement trapped there by my spandex shirt while my balls were so heavy and swollen they had weighed my shorts down enough you could see my bush and part of my dick through the opening between my shirt and shorts. As I very, very, gingerly touched them out of both pride and curiosity of their new size coach comes out of no where to congratulate me on a job well done with a hearty slap to my ass. After the last two weeks and my current situation that was enough to do it. The dam burst right then and there, a dam trying to hold back the Pacific Ocean but failing spectacularly. Coach started to cuss telling me I was in for it now and boy was he right. He told, as I was cumming a nigh non stop stream all over my front side, that until the body fully process the drug you can’t cum at all or you lose everything you gained while on it, or in other words I was about to cum twenty plus pounds of muscle all over the locker room floor and myself. Twenty pounds or in other words around three to four gallons of fluid was about to force it’s way out of the only exit it had, my dick. The coach smirked at me as he watched me thrash about turning my black clothes almost totally white and make a puddle spread over the entire room. He told me that to make up for lost time now that I couldn’t hold it in we are going to have to do a double dose at the very least, maybe a triple dose (he said forebodingly), I couldn’t process what he was saying as I was still in the throes of the worst/best orgasm of my life. Soon the flow tapered off and my hurting dick and balls finally calmed down back to a more manageable size as coach threw a towel on me telling me to clean up and meet him in the gym to start working back what I just wasted.