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  1. Astromuscle: So this story idea kept me up all last night... the only thing I want to preface is that while there will be muscle growth (later on hopefully ALOT of muscle growth) I decided i wanted to write this with like cool characters, and like an intriguing story... so I hope that's okay... and I hope you enjoy! Also heavy time travel ideas inspired by Zero Escape (google it) Chapter 1: The setup "I love you" "I love you too" "Not in the way I do..." ... Daniel woke up in a cold sweat. Standing at 6', he was taller than most people and lanky. As he put on his shirt he noticed his lean and small muscles, pecs barely stood out from his chest, abs only there from his lack of fat, and thin legs that barely bulged anywhere. Daniel was healthy, and normally wouldn't fixate on these details, however there was a reason he now was aware of how unimpressive he looked. Daniel left his sterile room to enter the rest of the base where he resided. A government building which was created to help correct the words missteps. They say hindsight is 20:20, and that's what Daniel was here for. As he entered the kitchen/dining area he saw one of the other residents of the building, a shorter man who's best descriptor was pudgy. Another word word that always came to mind when Daniel saw Zeke was melancholy as the middle aged man never seemed to be happy. Daniel understood why, of course, but Daniel had the same experience and still found time to enjoy the little things. This world was not devoid of joy, but from Zeke's perspective it seemed any joy that the world could offer was a betrayal to the massacre they had witnessed. Daniel began to collect his breakfast from the kitchen (a banana, some toast with PB and J, and some orange juice) and sat down across from the middle aged man. Zeke had apparently made eggs and bacon, but now was only pushing the half of the food that was left around the plate. It caused pain to Daniel to see Zeke this way, he had not known Zeke much before "the massacre", but had heard he was an extraordinary teacher, with alot of passion. In a way, Daniel was happy he hadn't known Zeke's happier days, only to see him come down to this level. "Are you okay Daniel?" Daniel jumped a little at the question, how long had he been caught up in his thoughts? "Sorry, I had nightmares again last night" "I understand, I get them a lot too" "Zeke, you should leave. You don't have to be here. This will only get harder for you." "And leave you 2 to deal with all this, I couldn't do that. I am fine. Do you not feel any different after you... you know" "No" Daniel was lying however. This government building held 3 Timesplitters as they were called. People who could travel back in time by teleporting their consciousnesses back in time. This could only be triggered by a specific boulder that was housed in the building, and was made further more difficult due to the fact that every jump changed you. After every time Zeke jumped, he seemed to become more morose. "I don't believe him for a second, do you Zeke?!" A booming voice came from behind Daniel that made him spin around. Standing a staggering 8' a tower of muscle who went by Robert entered the room fully. Daniel's jaw dropped, Robert hadn't been that tall yesterday! Robert had been just under 8', but now was clearly at that height, if not taller once he fully stood up from entering the room. "Robert, did they run tests on you last night? You seem bigger," Zeke said with such nonchalance that Daniel was taken aback. "He He ya, they made me jump a couple of times, and you know what that does to me!" Robert quickly scooped up as much food as he could fit on a tray and brought it over to their table. After setting it down he seemed to contemplate the chair, then grabbed another one to put next to it and sat down. "But we aren't changing the subject, what does jumping do to you Daniel? I get buffer," I don't know if it was on purpose or accidental, but one of his pecs bounced at this, "and Zeke..." Rob petered off at this. "I grow more detached to the world, it's fine to say so" "Right. So what happens to you?" Daniel looked to Zeke for some help, but Zeke, while still sullen faced, now had a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Robert does he seem to get more nervous every time he jumps?" "Maybe your right... Daniel?" "Guys, seriously, nothing happens when I jump. No side effects!" Daniel was not a good liar. Robert leveled his eyes down to match Daniel's, "We will figure this out buddy, and when we do you are going to regret not telling us sooner." After a couple seconds of silence, Robert began to eat his buffet. Not long after Zeke got up to go in for some experiments, and left the kitchen, leaving Daniel and Robert alone. "So Robert, how big do you plan on growing." "I don't think I have much of a choice in the matter?" "What do you mean? You could just not jump and you would stop growing. Besides eventually if you got big enough you could probably do whatever you want." Robert began to laugh with a guttural deep sound before he began to choke on the food he had been swallowing. I began to get up to help him but he held me back and swallowed hard to clear his throat. "You are probably right buddy, but I guess I don't know. I personally don't have a limit in mind. I just want to be stronger. I need to be stronger." The last sentence was said with a much more deadpan tone than the rest. "Robert, do you still see the Reaper?" an icy chill seemed to have settled in the room, coming quickly to the talk of death. "I don't know, sometimes out of the corner of my eye... You?" "Same" Long moments stretched by as the clock seemed to tick at a slower and slower pace. Eventually Robert got back to eating, and the air seemed to return to normal, though Rob was notably eating with less enthusiasm. Eventually, Daniel's cell phone also buzzed, summoning him to do some experiments too. As he began to get up though Robert stopped him by grabbing his hand. The warmth of his hand engulfed my whole arm in a comforting feeling of security. "Daniel, buddy. In all seriousness, if there is a side-effect to your jumping I can help. I don't want to see you end up like Zeke, getting worse and worse each day. Please tell me." "Robert, if I notice anything I will let you know" Robert seemed to consider that statement for a minute, "Fine, whatever", he then proceeded to eat the food Zeke had left behind. Daniel made a quick exit of the room. In one of the hallways to the stone room, Daniel stopped. Breathing some long deep sighs he seemed to calm down, before punching one of the walls several times. "Can't the fucker just drop the subject." With some aggression let out and a disturbingly little amount of damage to the wall (they were meant to be Rob proof). Daniel dragged his feet along to the stone room. The stone room was a large, again sterile room big enough to house something huge, but the only object in the room was a rock about the size of a pillow. Smooth on one side, extremely rough on the other it looked as though it had broken off of a cliff, with whitish grey colour. Quite a few scientists were in the room as well as Zeke who seemed rather distant. "How is our wonder boy doing today?" One of the scientists approached him with a smile so big Daniel could only think of the Joker from Batman to compare to. "What do you need? I am not feeling great today" "We have one test for you, shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. Ready?" Daniel nodded and the scientist continued, "there is a room down the hall with a red flower in a pot. the keypad to get in will only open to your fingerprint, and mine of course. There was a blue flower in the kitchen, I don't know if you noticed. Now naturally since you didn't know about the red flower you'd have no reason to switch the red for the blue until I asked you to now, meaning if the flowers switched early, then you must have time traveled!" "I assume you wrote down the time you would tell me on a paper earlier. Only the jumper remembers the past world." "Yes yes yes, we wouldn't make that mistake again." "Let's get this over with then I guess." Daniel stepped up to the stone and laid his hand on it. As he concentrated on the jump, the stone began to glow green, until Daniel blinked and opened his eyes to the kitchen. "I don't believe him for a second, do you Zeke?!" A familiar booming voice from behind Daniel made him turn around to see Robert halfway through the doorway, clearly proud of his new height he thought the others hadn't seen yet. "Unfortunately," Daniel interrupted before more of this scene could play out, "Duty calls". After a scan of the room Daniel found the blue flower and grabbed it from it's vase. As Daniel was about to leave from the far side of the room from Rob, he shouted back "Rob you may want to ask the scientists for bigger shirts, yours don't leave anything to the imagination at this point." With that Daniel left a very proud looking Robert alone flexing with a very tired looking Zeke. Daniel rushed to complete the task, finding the room with the fingerprint scanner, and getting in and switching the flowers. To accentuate the point, he then took the red flower to the scientists in the stone room and gave it to them. "I'm still not feeling well, so I am going back to bed." "Still?" the wide-grinned scientist said. "Whatever, you know what I mean" With that Daniel left and proceeded to his bedroom. He laid down his head and fell asleep almost immediately, only to be plagued with more nightmares...
  2. muscle growth

    So, thanks for the ups on the other part of this I posted. Here's the first bit. I also figured how to change the colour to something readable. Enjoy, TC BB Book Store By Tattcub - 2014-02-28 19:36 Copyright © 2014 Tattcub. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author. Big Boys Book Store A short one...more to come in this one too David was bored. He had an interview at 2pm for a job as an intern in a local accountancy firm a few streets down and was an hour early. He'd already checked the address out and it was as he thought a dry dead end sort of place. He'd be the youngest guy in there by about ten years. What to do. He was bored sitting in the coffee store playing with his mobile so decided to go for a walk. He caught his reflection in the window as he left and shook his head. If truth be told he looked like an accountant. Slim, mousy and he was painfully shy. He looked at his brown short hair and brown eyes. He'd never really taken any risks in his life but at least he was safe. He lived with his parents still and that was easy. He did the normal stuff a guy like him would do. He had a few friends who were all similar to him, slightly geeky, all a little unfit and not one of them with a girl or boyfriend come to think of it. He was short-sighted as well, hence the specs and he was also carrying a briefcase for the interview. "Way to conform to a stereotype David" he chuckled to himself. He was a good guy though. Hard working and honest he went out of his way to help people in need and never really complained about his life. His parents loved him very much but if truth be told they wanted him to get out in the real world a little more. His dad had even suggested he go out and get laid. That was a talk David never wanted to repeat. He was looking into the windows of the various stores when he noticed across the street a bookstore. The sign said BB's Book Store. "BB sounds like a 1950's housewife" he thought. Being who he was though he knew he was going to go in and browse. He loved these sorts of places. You get a sense of the past in these old stores. All those lives in the pages there's something magical about them. He entered the store. There was a counter at the front and behind it sat a young man who looked up from a book as he entered "Good afternoon sir, can I help you?" said the shop assistant. "Er..Not really" said David "I'm just looking; I have some time to kill" He looked at the young guy sheepishly" If that's okay?" The assistant smiled and said "No problem, feel free to wander. We have a large selection here. Our biography section is particularly popular" He nodded down the stacks into the shadows of the shop. David wandered away from the front of the store into its depths. He went past general interests and cooking sections and even passed through the horror and sci-fi sections. He was conscious of the time and was only just having a quick look. He found himself in the biography section. The guy at the front was right. It was a large section. They had the life stories of loads of people from presidents to rock stars. David chuckled as he spied yet another book on Marilyn Monroe and surprise surprise David Beckham seems to have written another book about himself too. Yeah right and he was also the pope. He then spied a section on a higher shelf. He had to use a little step to reach up and look at the selection. The sign on the shelf said REAL LIFE HEROES. It was a section about guys who served their community every day such as policemen, ambulance drivers and firemen and so on. He picked one up at random and it had a photo of an amazing looking guy wearing a fireman's jacket smiling out from the cover. The title was SMOKE and MIRRORS my life as a fireman and model. The guy was handsome. He had short crew cut blond hair and quite piercing blues eyes. He had a square jaw and a set of almost perfect teeth. David thought the lips looked very sensuous framed by a light blond goatee beard. He flipped the first pages open and learned about this guy a little. His name was David to, but even from a young age he preferred Dave or D. He was a lively child who had wanted to be a fireman ever since he was little (Same here thought David the accountant) He was a good learner in junior school and a good kid. He worked hard and got good grades. He was also good at sports, especially football. He sprouted up in high school and played football for the school team. An injury in his senior year meant he'd never be a pro, but to be honest, he never wanted to be. As he entered college he was bitten by the iron bug and never really looked back. The book showed pictures of him growing up. His muscled seemed to be almost time lapsing with each page that turned. First he had the great build of an athlete. His body took on muscle naturally he was an easy gainer. David found himself loosening his tie a little, was it a little warm in the store? He continued to read. He then went to College where he studied a degree in crime scene investigation and fire scene forensics. While at college he the bodybuilding became a passion with him. He placed amazing high in his first show and then he started to train like a demon. David paused in his reading and took his jacket off as it seemed a little too tight. He turned the next page to see a picture of Dave holding his first outright win trophy at a local bodybuilding show. He was big. He must've had 19 or 20 inch arms here. He looked really hot. David closed the book for a second. He'd just though a guy looked hot. What was that about? He was about to put the book on the shelf when he realise he was eye to eye with it. That was odd, wasn't it higher than that? However, he decided to have another quick look forgetting moments before he'd been admiring the beef in those pages. He carried on flipping through the pages; after he graduated he'd been offered a place at fire training school and had jumped at the chance. His bodybuilding also went into a higher gear as the schools fitness centre was as equipped as any hardcore gym and a few of the guys were into bodybuilding there too. It was here that he'd met Sam, big beautiful Sam. Sam had taken control of his training and they'd become fast friends. Sam pushed David and David blossomed. He won his pro card shortly after graduating as a professional fireman. He had a picture of how he looked in his blues which had to be specially made to hold his massive pecs. His white shirt in the picture looked like it was filled to bursting from the huge shoulders and arms he had 22 inches now easy. He didn't wear ties easily as his traps made it very uncomfortable. David put his hand on the picture, almost imagining he could feel the monstrous forearms through the page. He could even see the veins thick and cable like. His hands looked firm and rough. The waist on his uniform was slim allowing the massive inverted v of his back to be emphasised through his shirt. His black trousers did nothing to hide the beyond human thighs. The picture on the next page was the one that did it for David. It showed Dave in his posers winning his first Olympia earlier this year. He was a god. He was huge and vascular with skin like tissue paper. His smile was perfect and it showed David pulling a most muscular pose. This guy was so hot thought David, so fucking hot. For a moment he thought he heard a crowd cheering and for a second he felt dizzy. He almost felt like he'd just cum He looked at the book in his hand and then turned his thick meaty wrists to look at his watch. He heard the store doorbell go. "Dave? You in there?" Dave looked at the book again; he wasn't entirely sure why he'd picked a book up on an accountants life. "Yeah Sam, I'm here" he said returning to the front of the store. His huge thighs moving against each other as he walked down the aisle. He adjusted his crotch a little to accommodate his non-regulation hose and went to the front where Sam, his training and life partner was waiting. "C'mon big man. You've got an interview to go to. Then when you've got the job as the youngest fire captain in this town's history we'll take you to visit your parents." They kissed briefly. Dave and Sam left the shop together.
  3. Hello all, I'm posting on behalf of arc for May 2nd of the Storiversary. Unfortunately, the piece of original content originally meant for this occasion is still not complete and has developed into something quite long and extensive -- and it isn't quite ready to show off. In the spirit of the Storiversary however, I do have a story offering for the forum. I thought a reflection on this forum's fine older stories couldn't hurt; and though it may be slightly against the rules (if so, just take this down for now I wouldn't mind), a story from the old, pre-2007 archive entitled 'Simon's Haircut' by Magusfan has served as the basis of a short but sweet little "jockifying" narrative that I've taken the liberty of overhauling or "reduxing". Find the original story here. A greater chronicle will come in time... I've recently lost tons of time to 'The Hourglass' by muscledrain. What a great saga and a tough story to follow! Without further explanation, find the story below. --- Simon's Haircut REDUX Original story by Magusfan arc Simon was a big nerd. He was totally skinny and a startlingly late bloomer -- a 16-year-old super shy, 5’2 weakling. Late after school, hurrying to get to the Chemistry lab, he decided to take the shortcut through the upper gym locker rooms to get there quicker. As soon as he got through the first doors however, a pair of big burly hands grabbed him, punched him in the gut, and tied him up. When he came to, he was bound to a chair and surrounded by a group of the biggest, most masculine, most popular muscle guys in the school – most of them part of the Varsity football team. They told him that they were trying out new products from Hygiene companies, and that he was their lucky first subject. First they made him take off all his clothes, and as he did they tossed them gleefully in the bin. Marc, the star Quarterback and their ringleader, forced him to put on a bright red jock strap. It was soo uncomfortable! Not only was it loose and ill-fitting, Simon could see other clothes just like it in a dirty pile by the table in the corner of the room. He doubted he was wearing clean underwear… his ass wasn’t even covered! Simon inspected what was on the table. He saw a bunch of hygiene-looking products, but most prominently was an electric razor and a tub of hair cream -- Simon gulped, they were going to give him a haircut? Marc called his boys in for huddle across the room, and when they broke he smiled at Simon’s nervousness and sauntered over to him, pausing to loom over the nerd’s sad, slouched form. Suddenly, he grabbed at Simon’s long, greasy hair and shouted over to his buddies, "Maybe we should change the wimp's hair first, we’ll make the change nice and slow so he enjoys it…” he trailed off, leaving Simon to wonder what the hell he meant. Simon gulped and prepared for a dumb, jocky haircut. His hair was pretty typical of a little geek like him -- he didn't care much for looking stylish or attractive – it seemed like worthless vanity to him. He'd have had a hard job doing so anyway, as his raw materials were pretty basic. His thin greasy hair was overgrown and neglected, lacking hugely from the absence of any products or a decent haircut. Sometimes his mom would nag him gently about improving its appearance, but while Simon would never disobey his parents, he was always far from keen. And it had just grown neglected. Now that was going to change. "G-g-get that away from m-me," stuttered Simon, gesturing at the razor Marc held in his burly hands. He was so nervous that he had trouble getting the words out. Simon would never normally dream of saying anything remotely antagonistic to a jock like this, but the desperate situation he had found himself in called for desperate measures. Marc smirked, and then removed any hints of a playful tone that might have been evident in his expression. "You're a little fuckin pansy and it's about time you started facing up to who you are. A man. You may not be much of one right now, but that's sure gonna change. First step is changing how you look with these products. You’ll get a manly haircut in time, but for now you need a clean slate - a bald cut!" Simon was practically shaking with fear. The only kids who walked around voluntarily bald were pretty much mindless thugs! Simon couldn't imagine looking anything like those animals, and he was extremely worried about what his parents and teachers would say. Right now Marc was attacking his scalp aggressively, and big chunks of Simon's mangy brown hair were falling to the ground. In the window opposite Simon, he could spot his own reflection as the transformation took place. Marc had shaved most of the back and sides leaving some hair on the top, resembling a type of Mohican. Marc paused for a second, smirking again, to admire his own handiwork. "Looks fucking good, eh?" Simon looked up mournfully, tears gathering in his eyes. "You little bitch," Marc barked aggressively. Swiping the rest of his hair away. "When we're finished with you, you're gonna fuckin pound yourself when you realize how much of a fag you were." Simon was now all bald. His thin, bony, ugly scalp evident. If anything, the lack of hair made him look even more like a geek, just because it was so outlandish he could have such a hairstyle. Even though it was a start, he still looked like a little weakling, nothing like the hardened skinhead jocks he was being forced to emulate. There was still a lot more to come. "It's the mind and body training next, nerd," sneered another jock, Paul. Simon gulped, again, for what felt like the 100th time this day. It was bad enough that the jocks had shaved off all his hair so that he looked as close to a bald thug that he was ever likely to. He had no worries that the changes to his body were going to have much effect. It would take him months, or more likely years, to build up a body like they wanted him to. Simon hated exercise with a passion and dreaded the thought that the jocks were going to make him undergo lots of it. Now however, they were dressing him up like he was some sort of sports-mad jock. A vest top and some tracksuit bottoms. Simon wouldn't have dreamed of wearing those sorts of clothes in a million years. His mom bought all his clothes anyway, and she disapproved of all sports and fashion labels. "Look at how much of a fucking dweeb you are in that uniform," sneered Paul. "Fuck, even without that dumb hair in those clothes you look like a pansy." Simon wondered if Paul was about to take him on a run. He wanted to tell him about his asthma, he'd left his inhaler in his locker and was seemingly incapable of running very far without several deep puffs. "You're gonna take this pill you fuckhead." said Paul, holding out a small round orange pill. "It's gonna do must of the work for us." Most of the work? And he wasn't serious about the pill, was he? Simon didn't want to take any drugs, or steroids. But Paul's menacing attitude was enough to force him to swallow the pill, even though he had never taken a pill before without large quantities of water to wash it down. Marc and Paul just smiled devilishly as suddenly everything started to fade away. As the pill made Simon increasingly drowsy, the jocks rubbed the hair product into his scalp, stuffing some jockstraps, tanks, and 2 more tubes of the hair product in a duffle for him later. === The change was felt almost immediately as Simon opened his eyes after a long sleep. He felt all of a sudden like he had so much more energy. He felt like he could handle the world. All the events of yesterday had almost faded away as Simon woke up in his own room, in his own bed. It was the morning and all Simon could think about was getting started and ready for school. He didn't even notice the physical changes that had occurred until he pulled himself out of bed. He sniffed the air a few times – the scent of his room had changed from the stink of BO and foot funk to an aroma of tanned leather and masculine musk that made Simon aware of a heavy pressure in his groin. "Whoa, what the-!" he exclaimed to himself. He’d grown taller - his perspective was so much higher! A good night’s sleep (and that orange pill) had totally transformed him, and his eyes widened in shock as he looked down at himself. He was completely shirtless and looked – muscular! Before Simon's arms looked like they could snap any minute but they had bloated into thick, vascular muscles capped with defined shoulders. His bulging, squared-off pecs sat atop an almost perfectly defined six-pack, just barely asymmetrical. "Oh my goodness!" Simon said to himself. It was like he had swelled up during the night – he had to be over 6’ tall now! He ran over to his mirror and realized that the changes hadn't stopped at his muscular top-half. Normally he slept in thick nylon pajamas. All he’d worn last night was that bright red jockstrap! It was the same underwear from yesterday yet it looked so different on his filled-out frame – the large pouch was heavy and almost felt snug. Below, his legs had swollen into defined logs of mounded muscle, balanced on a pair of clearly enlarged muscular feet. His face seemed to have totally transformed as well! He was still recognizable, at least partly; but instead of looking like Simon, he looked like someone who could have been related. A more attractive older brother for example. He had the face of a man with clearly defined masculine features – a prominent brow, defined nose and powerful chin and jawline – all with thick pouty lips for a dash of sex appeal. And his hair was different. Overnight, it had grown back at an incredible speed so that he was no longer bald. But it was not the hair of old. It was thicker, shorter, blonder, coifed perfectly in a short fashionable style. Simon studied his reflection more clearly, he reminded himself of someone. He reminded himself of Marc, the arrogant jock who had started all this. In all appearances Simon seemed to have transformed into a nearly perfect male model-in-the-making. But inwardly he felt fairly similar. He had more energy, but his personality was still that of a shy inhibited geek. His voice was still squeaky and grating, and it clashed fiercely with his manly appearance. Though the odd, heavy feeling in Simon’s groin began to intensify, initiating some unwitting changes in the augmented nerd. There was a knock on the door. "Simon, your breakfast is on the table!" It was his mum. But she couldn't see him like this, what was she going to think!? Her once perfect little boy now resembled some sort of mindless hunky man-thug! "Yes, in a minute, mommy" Simon squeaked back to his mother. He ran towards the door and pushed himself against it. He was desperate that she wasn't going to open up and see him like this. "What are you doing in there Simon? You'll be late for school." "Just getting ready! I'll be out in a second." "Don't be late, Simon. I’m leaving soon." For the first time ever, Simon felt a strain of irritation towards his mom. Who the hell was she to tell him not to be late? If he wanted to he could be as late as he damned well pleased. Then he stopped himself. "Why am I thinking like that. She's my mother, and I'm 16 years old. She has every right to tell me what to do.” Simon caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror, pushed up against the door. He truly had been transformed into a remarkable specimen. Yes, he was ashamed and disgusted of what he had become but at the same time, he couldn't help the intensifying pressure in his groin and the aesthetic beauty of his new face and body. Then he caught himself in the mirror with another cocky smile. "What am I doing? There's nothing great about how I look now. This isn't me. I despise people who look like this and are so into their looks." "Simon, are you ready yet!?" His mother was downstairs, calling to him. Simon had to get out of here. He couldn't let his mother see him like this. The only possible thing to do was to find the guys who did this to him and make them change him back. Simon didn't even feel the same trepidation towards the jocks anymore. Maybe he was so caught up in his desire to change himself back? "I need to get out of here. But shit! I can't walk around like this!" Simon looked around the room, pausing once again for a moment to admire himself in the mirror. “Maybe there isn’t anything wrong with walking around like this after all?” he thought. “No one's going to get offended by such a beautiful body. Maybe some of the girls will actually give me a second glance like this.” Then Simon came to his senses, again. "What am I saying? I look intimidating and grisly. I only want a girl who can appreciate my intelligent mind, not one who's only interested in some large muscles. I've got to get some clothes and get out of here. I'm going to make those fucking dumbasses regret they ever messed around with me." But all Simon's old clothes were far too small for him now. Then he spotted the gym bag – set by his bed with the track suit bottoms and vest top from yesterday in a pile next to it. Cautiously, Simon approached the simple black duffle and unzipped it, finding some more jock gear and… hair cream. “Was this the stuff they put on my head? What the hell is this stuff?” Simon wondered, grabbing a tube and flipping open the cap. He brought it to his face and was immediately shocked through his nostrils down to his cock with the most erotic masculine, musky odor he’d ever smelled. “UUHNNGH,” Simon groaned as his eyes rolled back in their sockets, his increasingly weighty bulge, twitching and flexing in the bright red jock pouch. “Whoa, what the hell!?” Simon freaked, dropping the tube and leering from the sudden stimulation – his nipples felt sensitive as goosebumps raised across his nearly naked body – the hair cream smelled like... male sex. Like masculinity in the form of a scent that Simon couldn’t describe but clearly enjoyed. “SIMON!” he heard from downstairs. “ALRIGHT MOM!” he shouted back, his voice taking on a deeper timbre with a hint of annoyance in his tone. He was still panting but forgot about the hair cream for now and dove back into the duffle bag for some better clothes. Unfortunately, none of what he found were better alternatives to what he wore yesterday besides a sweat-stained sleeveless undershirt… he pulled it on to find it fit him perfectly, highlighting the bulges of his muscles – “At least it covers my bare torso…” Simon justified to himself. He pulled on the track suit bottoms from yesterday and reluctantly slipped on the vest. Yesterday, it had been baggy and unsuitably fitted to his awkward frame. But with Simon's near-perfect physique, it fit great, showing off his muscular arms and chest. The tracksuit bottoms were also a snug fit and gave the impression that he was a dumb, lower-class, muscleboy; interested in showing off his body and his sports label clothes. "Fuck, I look like an idiot!" He exclaimed to himself, in a voice that was getting deeper and manlier as the heavy feeling in his junk grew more and more. "And what the fuck is happening to my voice? It won't stop cracking. It feels deep and hoarse!” “SIMON! YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE! I’M LEAVING SOON!” his mother called up the stairs one more time, sounding irritated, tired of waiting for her son to come for his breakfast. "That bitch," exclaimed Simon. "I gotta get outta here before she sees me like this. She'll fucking whoop my ass if she sees how I'm lookin' and speakin'." And with that he was out of his window and on his way to school. He needed to find Marc and Paul and the rest of the jocks. He had to get them to change him back. He couldn't stay like this for much longer, could he? Simon had been so quick to get out of the house that he didn’t have time to put on any shoes. Besides, all his old shoes were too small for him now, his feet seemed to have grown dramatically. And anyway, he wanted some neat sports trainers like Nikes, not the lame loafers and shit he had in his wardrobe. Man he needed to sort some of his shit out! It was a hot day and the pavement was scorching on his bare feet. "Fuck, this hurts" he muttered under his breath. But his determination to get to school and sort out Marc and his boys was too strong. Across the road were some girls he recognized from school. Tammy Oldham and Melissa Whitehead, two girls from his class. When Simon used to get grief off everyone those two normally had a part to play in it, being a couple of the cutest and most popular chicks in school. Despite acknowledging their prettiness Simon had built up a hatred of the girls in his mind because of the part they played in his bullying. But with his changing mind different priorities were emerging. Now Simon just saw them as two hot chicks he could score. "Fuck, I've been a pansy virgin-boy for too fucking long." Si thought to himself. "All the other boys in my class scored years ago. Ain’t it about time I got some of the action?" With their long, slim legs; attractive figures and well displayed breasts Simon thought they could be the ones to start off his long career in womanizing. He had never done anything like this before, but suddenly Simon had an overwhelming urge to get their attention by putting his hand in his mouth and giving them a long wolf-whistle. Suddenly they turned, and it was immediately evident they were pleased with what they saw. Short, stylish blond hair; a beautiful masculine face with sharp blue eyes and a muscular, manly body to die for. Even his clothes; a simple white wife-beater and a ratty pair of tracksuit bottoms, seemed to scream out his masculinity. They noted the lack of trainers but couldn’t help but notice his large shapely feet too. "Who is that?" Melissa asked her friend. "I dunno, don't think I've ever seen him before in my life." "He seems kinda familiar. He has to be the hottest thing..." "Oh god! He's coming over…" As Si began to strut over to the two girls, he felt a slow tingle run down his spine, and he shivered for a moment. The sounds of cracking bone and shifting muscle and tendon wracked his body, but Si felt no pain. Lifting his arm to scratch his armpit, he felt something unfamiliar. He didn't show his surprise, but noted the new thick brushes of hair under his arms. Another itch at his navel indicated a surprisingly thick, dense treasure trail of blond hair dipping below his waistband. The girls watched with admiration as Si strutted over to them. Everything about him; his looks, his walk, even his cocky expression, oozed sexy confidence. In his head Simon was already planning on which girl he was going to take first, what he was going to say to get her; he didn't care about what happened afterwards. His thoughts of getting back at Marc and changing him back into a nerd seemed to have completely vanished from his mind. Without realizing it, he was beginning to embrace the benefits of being, in all appearances, a jock. Never looking away from the girls, he called out, "Hey, ladies, how about you show me around? I'm new in the area, and I REALLY need to learn the 'lay' of the land." The two girls looked at each other and giggled, they looked giddy that such a hunk was approaching them. "Ohmigod," Tammy said to the other, "he looks even bigger and better up close!" Glancing down at himself for a second, Si almost freaked, but maintained his cool. He was… huge! He was taller and bigger than before – the ratty tank strained over his big traps and pecs and began to reveal his hairier, corrugated midriff. His pants were stretching over his big thighs and riding up on his calves. Under his tracksuit pants, a large bulge swung meatily within the confines of the straining jock between his muscular legs, where he felt most of the blood normally going to his brain draining. As he stopped only a step or two away from the girls, he felt his mind slowing, the words taking more effort. "Hey, girls, I want some fun." his even-deeper voice beginning to take on a rumbling growl. Awed at the size of this large hunk, Mel glanced quickly at Tammy and they each grabbed one of the jock's now-massive paws, dragging him back towards Mel's place just two houses away. In her garage, an old couch was waiting to be taken to the dump. But it'd do fine. Being guided along by these two hot chicks, Si could really feel his cock and balls swelling and his mind slow, his perceptions being reduced to the heavy, guided slaps of his enormous bare feet on the concrete and the rapid beating of his veins and arteries directing his blood flow to his groin. He could really feel his muscles now, his athleticism and jock-like physicality taking over his personality. Feeling another sudden tingle, Si smiled as an itch spread first across his face, then across his body down to his toes. He looked into a darkened window as he passed, noting with growing satisfaction the suddenly dense dark blond stubble that had grown on his chin and jaw. A quick glance down confirmed the presence of more of the same luxurious dark blond body hair on his chest, forearms, and even his feet. Leading Si around her house, Mel opened the side door leading into the garage, flipping on a small light. Tammy pulled him forward through the door, stopping when they heard a thump. Si's head had hit the top of the low doorframe, but he didn't care in the least, his now-thicker skull and protruding brow absorbing the impact without the slightest pain. Noting the dull smile on the hunk's face, Mel took his hand and guided him over to the couch, pushing him back to fall onto the cushions. With that collapse, so did his pants, his now massive thighs ripping out and the bulging over-stuffed red jock busting through the tatters as he stripped them away. "Ohmigod…" "Damn…" The two girls cooed, eyeing the impressive size of the jock. He didn't seem to mind in the least, and began reaching towards them, pawing at their chests with each hand. A quick tug of the overburdened jock exposed Si's stiffening erection, which even only half-hard arched majestically from his body a good 8 inches. One hand dropped away from Mel's chest, and began pumping the rod. The other began ripping his shirt off his body, freeing his muscles. Both girls gasped at the sight, the scent of his sweat and musk starting to really turn them on as it saturated the air around him. They began to strip for him, coyly pulling their clothes off even as they lustily stared at his body and still expanding equipment in action. Tammy was the first to finish stripping, her skimpy outfit falling away to reveal her set of C-cup breasts, a delicate waist from plenty of exercise and cheerleading, and thin hips combined with a beautiful, perky ass. She rushed in to Si, pressing a desperate kiss on his lips, with slight surprise at the rough stubble that she hadn't noticed before. She kept going, running her hands over his powerful shoulders, thick neck, and big, hairy, muscle-bound chest. His free hand came from behind and pressed her strawberry-blond head into his face. Melissa, noting the abandon with which Tammy kissed him, skipped being sexy and simply yanked off the rest of her clothes, immediately diving for his now-hard rod. Pulling his hand off, she began kissing and rubbing the veiny joint, now pushing 11”, with one hand while guiding his hand to her D-cup breasts. She wasn't as thin as her friend, but her large hips were more curvy and shapely. Si, now overcome with arousal, grunted, as he felt yet another tingle run over his body, this time accompanied by a slight ache in his bones, as if he'd been pulled on a rack. In response he stretched himself to try and relieve the ache, his hands staying on the girls but his elbows flying out. His head had been against one armrest, but now as he stretched, one foot found itself touching the other end of the over-7-foot-long couch. His muscles burned as they pumped with blood, and he felt himself slip a little as his body expanded. He was surging past the point of fit gym-guy and looking more and more like an alpha jock – an uninhibited muscle beast. Mel was just about to try and swallow the head of this magnificent jock's dick, when it pulsated and swelled a bit more. Frowning in disappointment, she thought to herself, 'Already?' Noting no shot being fired however, she instead decided to take the cock straight into herself, her trepidation being overridden by her overwhelming lust for this hunk of man. Lifting her face from the massive sexmeat, she gasped when she looked it over, it seemed to be even bigger! It looked to be over a foot long, twice as big as her last boyfriend. She didn't know if she could handle it, but was more than willing to try. As she lined herself up, her supple lower lips brushed the head of his cock. Suddenly, his large mitt grabbed her ass, and she almost screamed in pain as she was impaled on the veiny, throbbing pole. She bit her lip, however, and let herself fall into the pleasure. ‘Oh god,’ Si thought, ‘this is so good...’ His body was starting to tingle constantly, and he could feel the thick, rough hair on his chest rubbing over Tammy's cleavage while the stubble on his face scratched at her cheeks as he kissed her. His muscles bulged, and he was sure his cock was still growing as he began to thrust his hips into Melissa with reckless abandon. His large, lemon-sized testes moved with the thrusts, and he could feel them swelling, getting ready to shoot. All at once, he felt a white-hot pleasure course through his body, as he lost all sense of time and the outside world. When he awoke, just a moment later, he could feel his thick load, having shot into and filled Melissa, running back out of her clit along his shaft and into the now-thick hair of his groin. She was groaning still with her eyes rolled back as she convulsed on top of him, grinding into his irresistible cock. As he pulled out of her, he still felt... aroused. Tammy, who by now was kissing his bulging biceps, needed to be fucked, he realized. Even as he lifted her off of his upper body, and impaled her where her friend had been moments ago and began thrusting, other things were going on in his head. His mind had changed, he could feel it. Now, his goals, in the back of his mind, the root of all his needs, were to dominate. To dominate other males on the court and field, and to dominate women everywhere else, his male virility allowing him to do both. The other males were his competition, other jocks, and even nerds, geeks, and so forth, like he used to be, they were a very insult to his existence. And the women were his goals, they were his to be conquered. He needed to be the alpha-male, the leader of the pack, that was what drove him, because the alpha got to fuck the brains out of every girl in his domain. As soon as this cleared up for him, it disappeared under the haze of lust once more. Melissa, now recovering from her own ordeal, began to crawl back onto him, still driven by her lust and the powerful scent of sex washing off of Si in waves. That drive caused her to begin kissing his face, his neck, her hands rubbing his muscles for all they could. One hand's long fingernails began to comb through the dense hair of his chest, which crawled upwards connecting to his beard-growth, outwards connecting to his armpits on the sides, and mingling with the now broad trail across his powerfully muscular, cobblestone 8-pack and joined with his pubic hair. He was hairy, he was muscular beyond belief, he was hung like an equine, and he was tall, large, and dominant in mind. He was a new man. No. He was a true Alpha Jock. "Come on baby, give it to me. OHHHH, harder! Faster!" Mel begged the muscular stud for the fourth or fifth time. It had taken him several long hard fucks, but Si was starting to feel all sexed out. He knew that he'd be ready for some more action soon, probably in another hour or so. But for now, the clawing desperation of the beautiful babes was beginning to irritate him. Lazily and effortlessly, he pushed Mel away. "What's the matter honey?" Mel asked, concerned. "I'm all fucked out baby," Si answered in his now deep sexy bass. He didn't bother to hide his cocky smirk as he watched the extreme disappointment in Mel's face. Where did he put his fucking clothes? "Just a few more minutes, please!?" Mel pleaded. Si sneered arrogantly. Now that he knew he wouldn't get anything out of it, he didn't have time for anything else. Besides, he'd just remembered why he bothered to leave the house this morning. Those fucking assholes were gonna pay... "Where are you going?" Mel asked anxiously as Si attempted to pull the remains of his tracksuit bottoms back on. "I don't have to tell you fucking nuffin, bitch" shrugged Si, carelessly. She was annoying the hell out of him now. There was only one use for women, and the longer they kept their mouths shut, the better. His shirt was in ruins, but he didn't care. He had a fucking killer physique and it was a sunny day. “Fuck, I ain’t got no clothes,” Si realized as he got up off the couch. Tammy moaned as she watched the beautiful jock’s muscles twitch and flex as he moved, the fingers of her left hand still playing with her clit. Si grinned arrogantly and struck a pose, “think anybody would mind?” he asked rhetorically, flexing and admiring his own body. “Where’s my jock?” Si asked as Melissa desperately approached his hulking form on her knees. Tammy turned and spotted the red fabric, pointing it out and watching the stud strut over and stretch it over his incredible endowments, leaving the sculpted globes of his ass bare. The girls were in a trance – dizzy with the overwhelming mixture of alpha jock beauty, power and raw sexual magnetism. Finally Melissa remembered the laundry in the garage. “There’s some clothes over there. Maybe my dad or my brother have something.” Simon scoffed but went over to look through the male clothing. There was a bunch of geeky old dude shit like button-downs and slacks with crew neck undershirts and loose, billowy boxers. Another pile revealed some workout clothes, and t-shirts that all seemed too small for Si, but he was able to fit snugly into a pair of straining sweatpants, “Fuck, these are tight.” Si commented, twisting and turning, giving the girls a show of his muscular grace. “I guess they’ll have to do.” With that, he found his now trusty vest top and found that it still fit him, though just barely. If it weren’t for his intimidatingly masculine physique, he would look comical in his tight, clearly undersized clothing. But with his pale, youthful skin the sun would give his muscular sinews and dense golden body hair a beautiful, healthy glow. Without even a wave to Tammy and Mel, Si sauntered out. Now that his lustful needs had been satisfied, he had a need for a fight. Si knew where he'd have to go to find the jocks. School was already in session, but Marc and his bunch of jocks didn’t have time for Math or Social Studies and all that shit. They were most likely at fields already, getting in some practice for the big game. Si had never been much of a football-fan; well, not much of a sports fan full stop. But today, there was something about the idea of sweating it out on a big patch of grass with some other buff guys and a ball to throw about… The jocks were taking a break from the practice and were standing at one end of the vast sports fields joking about. One of the boys, Chris, was bragging about the girl he had ended up with last night. Si smirked to himself as he wondered what they'd say when he told them that he'd spent the last half hour fucking the brains out of Tammy Weston and Marc's girlfriend, Melissa. She'd been especially eager and satisfied by his large fuckstick; like she'd never really been satisfied like that before. Si started to wonder if Marc was the big man he liked everyone to think he was. "Wassup dudes" he announced loudly to the small crowd of jocks. They turned to look at him and met his cocky, leering grin with mostly puzzled expressions. None of them seemed to recognize the big dumb jock stood before them. With his big hairy muscular chest on display he looked like one hell of a stud. But they thought they knew all the jocks around the school. "Wassup dude." replied Paul gently, speaking for the rest of the group. He couldn't take his eyes away from his magnificent body. That guy must be a hardened gym fiend to look like that. Despite the mass of manly stubble, his face still looked pretty young and fresh, but he had the body of some older college player. "What's the matter with you fuckers? Ain't you ever seen an alpha jock before?" Marc was tentative but replied hastily, "Course we have dude. Just thought we knew most of the jocks round here…" Simon grinned, "You've got a short fuckin’ memory. Only yesterday you were bragging about what a muscular stud you were gonna turn me into. Look at me. Fuck, I'm huge. The chicks can't get enough of me like this. Even I fucking can't. You did this to me, dudes." "Si-, you're... Simon?" Si grinned. "You got it." "F-Fuck man! The pill turns guys into athletes, not… not muscle beasts! We knew the transformation was gonna be huge. We didn’t realize this huge!" All of a sudden, the awkwardness of the situation seemed to have disappeared. The jocks couldn't believe how Simon had turned out; but they weren't angry with him anymore. Now that he wasn't a nerd, he was one of the boys. Another big fuck-off dude to play football with. They rushed forward, giving the dumb jock playful punches on the arm; treating him like a lifelong buddy that really belonged. Simon couldn't even remember being angry at the jocks anymore. His mind was changing all the time. Now it was the jocks he wanted to spend all his free time with, when he wasn't fucking the chicks that is. It was like he'd known these boys all his life as they joked around, admiring how strong and manly he'd become. "So, how did it happen man?" "I just let it happen, bros. One minute I'm a skinny pansy of a nerd, the next I'm everything I wanna be." It felt impossible to Simon that he had only been like this for an hour or so. He thought he could still remember something different. Remember how he felt when he woke up. Then, the idea of being some big dumb jock hadn't pleased him too much. He'd been different then, his mind worked differently. He couldn't remember half the stuff he used to. "What's the matter, dude?" "Fuck knows. I was just thinking how different I felt… this morning." "Too fucking right. You were a nerd then. You had brains and shit. No fucking jock needs to know how math works." Marc said. Si grinned, his buddy was right. He didn't seem to have a fucking clue how half of that stuff worked anymore, but it didn’t bother him shit. Now, he'd happily beat up any little fucker who could handle a calculator better than he could a football. Suddenly a loud siren sounded over the football fields. "Fuck, what's that shit?" Simon yelped. "Jesus, you have become a bit of a dumbass, haven't ya? Don’t you even recognize the school-bell anymore?" Si stood there, a big dumb expression on his face, and lazily scratched at his facial stubble. "Fuck. I guess that means we gotta go to lessons, right?" "Yeah, man. It's shit, but Principal Matheson said he won't let us play anymore football for the school if we don't at least go to one math class a week. And you're coming with us too, Si. Math used to be your favorite subject, didn’t it? Now you're gonna sit at the back of the class with the rest of the boys. We don't let any fuckers teach us what we don't wanna know, anyway. Nice hair by the way." END •
  4. short story

    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.
  5. HERE it is guys! My entry! I hope you like it! It's an Audio podcast, of a Youtube fitness blogger trying a BRAND NEW cycle! Give it a listen/Look! From GB's Instagram Midnight JUST hit, my balls are nice and empty thanks to one last cum! Let's DO this!! Can't wait to get MONSTROUS! #GB #GROWGOALS #EDGECYCLE #BEAST! From GB's Instagram See what I mean? FUCK this thing is..god I love it...I am going through WAY too many boxers like this though.... From GB's Instagram And THIS is what I get for edging while running an errand. YES I am aware shorts are not an option for me anymore but..damn I just..I love how my bulge looks in em..fuck me...Anybody got any spare pants? From GB's Instagram GOD DAMN getting ready for bed is rough...waiting for my buddy to get in here with the bungee cords to strap me in..might have to get something stronger soon!..Fuck...I can barely WALK anymore... From A Buzzfeed Article on the aftermath Youtube Fitness Star gains MASSIVE weight with new diet gone wrong? You won't BELIEVE what happens to him!
  6. Sorry I'm a little late with this. Real life got in the way and I just barely finished. I guess it's still the 29th in other places, so I guess it counts. I've had this idea in mind for a long time. I hope you like it. Thanks for the kick in the butt to get another story out. Aromatherapy By Max Mann Charlie Henry had not heard of King Solomon’s Mine until a coworker told him about a new nutritional supplement superstore being opened by a former champion bodybuilder. He was having another one of his “I need to start working out again” moments and vowed this time would be different. He could stick to a plan, for months at a time, until something would derail him. This time, seasonal asthma reared its coughing head. Almost a year had passed since his last gym visit, and since this store opened near his office, he figured he’d stop in after work and see what was there. He walked in and was surprised by the volume, over quadruple the size of the store closest to his apartment. As it was, the store had much more than just containers of whey protein. Weights in one corner, clothes in another, and aisles of all sorts of chemical compounds designed to improve your body. And lining the walls were photos and posters of “King” Solomon James, the legendary seven-time Mr. Valhalla. Almost all of them showed him flexing and posing while wearing his signature crown; others featured his flowing, Samsonesque, dark hair. Charlie wandered through the aisles, picking up jars and bottles, reading the ingredients, and occasionally making faces in disgust. He reached the back of the center aisle and found a section devoted to aromatherapy. He thought it to be a lot of hooey, though he did like the scented candles. He looked through the assortment, and a lone pillar candle caught his eye. It stood out from the others, a plain, creamy white one about eighteen inches tall. He took it from the shelf and brought it to his nose. He smelled something familiar with his first sniff. It was almost like a locker room, yet strangely pleasant. He inhaled again, taking the scent deeper. So masculine…what was it? He took the candle with both hands, bringing the candle to his face, almost to his lips. He took a third deep breath, and his head swum. He felt drunk yet sober, and then realized something weird. He had an erection. Charlie looked down at the noticeable bulge in his crotch, and then at the candle. He read off the scents, none of which he’d ever heard of. Lemon oja moss, moist tansy, sensette root. He continued looking at the candle, put it back on the shelf, then grabbed it again and quickly headed up to the counter. Charlie wasn’t paying attention to who was manning the register until a deep voice said, “Twenty-four dollars”. He looked up to see the legend himself, the one and only Solomon James. His thick mane was now a lustrous gray falling to his cannonball shoulders. He wore a white cotton polo which stretched to the breaking point over his pendulous pecs, the size of sourdough loaves. And the arms…the titanic arms that resembled overinflated footballs. Although Solomon had retired from competition over thirty years ago, he still surpassed recent winners in terms of size and symmetry. And his square-jawed, bearded masculinity still made women – and many men – swoon, especially after looking into his piercing, sky-blue eyes. Charlie gulped and stammered, “You…you’re…uh…” “King Solomon in the flesh.” He raised his arm and flexed his bicep. “And plenty of it. I see you like my candle.” “Your candle?” “I handcrafted it myself. One of my hobbies outside of the store, and lifting.” He put it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mmm…I love this scent. One of a kind. Delicate, but invigorating. I have one at home, and light it all the time.” Solomon smiled, showing his perfect white teeth. Solomon instructed Charlie on how to use the candle: trim the wick after each use, don’t keep it lit more than one hour at a time, don’t fall asleep with the candle still lit. “It’s meant to last about two months. Maximize its potential, and you will end up feeling like a new man once it’s burned out.” Charlie hurried home with the candle. He didn’t know why he was so excited by his purchase, but as soon as he entered he found a plate to put the candle on, found an old lighter that still worked, and watched the flame touch the wick. A couple of sparks, and once the wax starting melting the scent wafted outward. He sat in his recliner and after a few deep breaths started to get hard again. He pulled down the zipper to his jeans and released his seven-inch erection. He slowly stroked it and thought about Solomon. Such pure, intense manliness…he had never encountered any man like him. How big must he be? Three fifty? Four hundred pounds? Charlie stripped himself naked as his mind filled with images of Solomon. He had never been aroused by a guy before, but Solomon was no ordinary man. His potent virility oozed from every pore, and Charlie found himself fantasizing he was Solomon. To stand on a stage nearly naked, flex muscles beyond description, revel in your size, and have thousands of people cheering your name. Charlie flexed his bicep, wanting to know how it would feel to be as big. Thoughts like these never entered his head before. He never even liked looking at himself in a mirror at the gym, but a desire had woken from dormancy and could no longer be contained. He murmured Solomon’s name over and over as he neared climax. Finally an image appeared in his brain of Solomon naked except for his crown. And between his gargantuan thighs lay a long, thick, veiny, cut cock bigger than any imaginable. It slowly throbbed to erection, swelling with power. The angle shifted, and Charlie realized he was on his knees looking up at King Solomon, who was now holding his cock like a scepter and bringing it forward to where his mouth would be. A smell hit him, and he felt a spray of thick, creamy jizz on his face. Only the eruption was his own, powerful enough to hit him again and again, on his chin, cheeks, neck, shoulders, and chest. Charlie whimpered as the orgasm subsided. He couldn’t recall shooting so much and so hard, not even as a teenager. As he wiped himself off with his tee, his empty stomach gurgled. He ordered his favorite pizza for delivery, and when it was delivered he ate the entire pie in one sitting. He looked at the empty box after he finished and said to himself, “Damn, I was hungry.” He looked over and saw the candle still burning. He blew it out and went to bed. Charlie woke the next day feeling more energetic than he had in months. He usually slept in on Saturdays until noon, but today the urge to work out was strong and he drove to his gym where he immediately hit the weight machines without starting on the treadmill as he normally would. He stayed there over two hours as he lifted and exercised every muscle he’d neglected over the last year. When he got home and showered, he caressed his muscles as he soaped himself over. “I’m gonna get you boys big…so big,” he said as his hands roamed over his pecs, abs, legs, and ass. He threw a towel on, went into the living room, and lit the candle. He returned to his blissful state and fondled his cock slowly. He opened his laptop to look for videos of Solomon and found his last Mr. Valhalla win. He watched the greatest bodybuilder ever pose and flex in time to a piece of classical music. His movements were fluid and graceful for a man his size. Charlie stroked his erection as he studied every inch of Solomon’s body. From the waist down, he saw how powerful and muscled Solomon’s tree-trunk thighs truly were, calves that looked like a ripe mango was stuffed under the skin, buttocks so round and high they didn’t seem real, and a package that barely held his pendulous manhood. When Solomon hit his final pose, his legendary most-muscular, the screams from the crowd muffled Charlie’s cry as his penis erupted with warm, thick cum. If anything, this orgasm was even more potent and the load even messier. On Sunday, Charlie expected to feel soreness everywhere when he woke, but instead he felt the same energy as yesterday. He hit the gym again, this time working with free weights. He looked at the meatheaded bros who lifted their heavy dumbbells poorly or grunted obnoxiously with every rep. “Wait ‘til they see what real muscle looks like,” he thought to himself. Charlie eyed himself in the wall mirror and smirked. “They won’t know what hit them.” A new ritual began for him: lift, candle, cum. At work he’d be jittery, waiting for the shift to end at the coffeehouse so he could rush to the gym. His coworkers and customers noticed the changes to his personality even if he didn’t. They also noticed the changes in his appearance. Charlie only noticed after the candle had burned a quarter down, and realized how tight his tee shirts were getting. He went back to King Solomon’s Mine for supplies and new workout gear to fit his growing frame. Solomon was at the register again, and commented to Charlie about his improved body. Charlie flexed a bicep and asked, “Think I could be the next Mr. Valhalla?” “Keep lifting like you are, and you might get there.” “We’ll see.” And as Charlie strode out, Solomon said to himself, “It’s working. It’s really working!” The candle was now halfway melted, and Charlie finally realized something unusual was going on. Even though he’d gained over seventy pounds of pure muscle in just over one month, it was the three-inch gain in his cock that woke him. Yet even though he knew in his brain something odd was happening, he couldn’t help but enjoy the effects. And the sexual attention he was getting from other men, at first unwelcome, soon became sought after. He wanted to show them who the real stud was, and was more than ready to fuck them senseless. In the coffeehouse, the gym, on the street, he flirted with every man he once looked at with disdain. The bros, the gym bunnies, the bullies…they were bodies to be conquered. Like the one he called “Douche”. A meathead grunter, all upper body with tattoos everywhere, even his scalp and neck. Gorgeous face but mean ugly. Charlie followed him into the bathroom and saw he’d pulled his pants down to piss, exposing his small but firm ass. Charlie took his cock out and rubbed it along the crack. “What the…who the fuck are you?” Charlie pinned Douche against the urinal. “I’m your master,” he whispered and stuffed the head of his erection into the tight hole. Douche gasped as the knob, then a couple of inches, entered him. He was still pissing as his cock started hardening. “Please. Please stop. You’re hurting me.” “Yeah, just as I thought. All macho talk and nothing else. You’re not fighting me off because you, and every man in this gym, want me and my ten-inch fuckpole. This time, you get the honors, and you should feel privileged. You can tell your pals you got fucked by…King Charles.” At that moment, the easygoing Charlie made way for the dominant Charles. With one mighty lunge, every inch of Charles’ cock slid inside Douche, who erupted wildly all over the urinal. Charles lifted the muscleman and fucked him hard. Fucked him strong. Fucked him good. “I’m gonna cum inside your ass now. You’re gonna take my royal jelly home with you. You got that?” Douche moaned. “I can’t hear you.” “Yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes…your majesty.” “Thank you.” With one final thrust, Charles emptied his seed into his vanquished foe. He pulled his softened cock out, and turned around to see three men gawking at him, all with large wet spots spreading over their crotches. Charles smirked as he walked towards them. He stood in front of the middle one, a hipster with a ginger handlebar mustache. “Tomorrow, this time. Your turn.” Twenty-four hours later, Charles enjoyed the feeling of a ginger handlebar mustache pressing against his crotch as its owner swallowed eleven inches of muscle-god cock. The behemoth who walked into King Solomon’s Mine barely resembled the man who bought the candle two months earlier. A neatly trimmed beard now decorated his face, and he cancelled his monthly haircut in order to grow out his brown hair. He weighed over three hundred pounds. His arms measured twenty-five inches around. His chest over sixty. His waist only thirty-four. Each thigh nearly thirty. And his cock a godly fifteen long and nine around. But instead of shopping for supplements and protein powder today, he had one objective. Charles wanted to fuck Solomon. He waited until only he and Solomon were in the store before he made his move. He took off his clothes until he wore nothing but a poser that barely contained his meat. He sauntered to the counter as if he was stepping on stage. Solomon knew Charles had come in, and had seen the progress over the weeks. The blooming muscle, the personality shift. Now seeing the results in full view before him, he knew one thing. Solomon wanted to fuck Charles. Solomon went to the door and locked it, turning the “Open” sign around to say “Closed”. He walked up to Charles, grabbed the back of his head, and mashed their lips together. Their mouths opened as their muscular tongues met. They kissed for one…two…three minutes. Their hands groped each other frenziedly. Their bodies pressed and rubbed, and soon Charles’ erection popped out, reaching well above his belly button. They broke their kiss, and Solomon licked his lips as he eyed the hardness. “My office. Now!” Charles followed Solomon, licking his own lips as he watched the bubble butt move before him. Once they entered the office, Solomon tore the poser off and knelt in front of Charles. He gripped the erection and brought it to his lips. He stuck his tongue out and tasted the nectar. “Oh, yes…definitely hansel cherry.” Charles grabbed Solomon’s hair and said, “Suck me. Suck my king cock.” Solomon looked up. “You think this is a king cock?” “Fuck yeah.” “It is big.” Lick. “Huge.” Kiss. “Even gigantic.” Slurp. “But it’s not the biggest I’ve ever seen.” Charles snorted. “Yeah, right. Who’s got a bigger cock than me?” Solomon stood and said, “The real king.” Charles gulped as he watched Solomon unbuckle his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. His titanic phallus flew up and smacked him at the base of his pecs. His jaw fell as he realized just how much bigger Solomon was. Solomon removed the rest of his clothes until both men stood naked and erect before each other. Solomon took Charles’ right hand and placed it on his cock. A feeling of déjà vu struck Charles as he fell to his knees. He brought the cock to his nose and smelled the precum. The candle…his cock…the smell… He looked up to see Solomon’s wide smile. “Have you figured it out? The candle you bought is not only as big as my cock…I made it with my semen. You have been inhaling my cum every time you lit the candle. And my DNA has been entering your cells, altering them, turning you into another me.” “Another you? Like, your son? Or your clone? But how?” “I said I have many hobbies. Let’s just say that science and the supernatural are two more.” Charles looked at the majestic penis. “Thank you.” He kissed it, feeling the warmth of another man’s erection against his lips for the first time. “Thank you, King Solomon.” He opened his mouth wide and accepted his hugeness. The two studs stayed in the room for hours as they explored each other in every way. Charles learned the glories of masculine love with the greatest stud on the planet. And Solomon was determined to teach his protégé every trick he knew…literally. Epilogue “Our runner-up is…Jose Manuel Perez.” Jose looked in shock as he heard his name announced. The two-time Mr. Valhalla had just been dethroned by a man who had competed in only one contest ever before today. Sure he won that to get his pro card, but it was unheard of for a newcomer to win the biggest title in bodybuilding. And that newcomer, Charles Henry, hadn’t been heard of in bodybuilding circles a year ago. Charles stepped to the stage, smiling and throwing back his long, flowing brown hair. He accepted the trophy and check, took a few pictures, then stepped to the stage and hit a double bi that brought cheers from the packed crowd. The announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, all hail his royal muscle majesty, our new Mr. Valhalla, Charles Henry. Long live the king!” And the crowd went wild as the legendary King Solomon James walked out holding the crown on a red velvet pillow. Charles gasped, as he thought his lover wouldn’t be able to attend. Solomon took the crown and carefully put it on Charles’ head. He whispered, “I love you, King Charles,” then stepped back, dropped to one knee, and produced a small box from his jacket. Charles’ hand flew to his mouth as Solomon opened the box and showed him the ring. “Mr. Valhalla, King Charles Henry, will you marry me?” Charles could only nod as Solomon placed the ring on his finger. The two bodybuilders kissed as thousands of cheers erupted. And just as Charles thought he couldn’t be happier, Solomon said, “I sold our candle yesterday.” Charles’ eyes went wide. “You mean…?” Solomon smiled. “We’re going to have a son.”
  7. Revulsion Hi, MG forum. Goremeridian here. Some call me GM for short. I've got…a kind of opportunity for you. A really BIG opportunity. Fuck, that’s a kind of inauspicious start. You know, palming you off with a pun and all that. Well, you try starting a message like this when you feel as though your insides have been completely rearranged by a muscleman’s giant cock. When your sphincter has been stretched so far beyond what nature intended by a penis that dwarfs that of the most well-hung porn star, in both length and girth. The pain…hell, even the memory of the stretch…are so goddamn distracting that it’s kind of a surprise that I can type anything at all. Hmm. Perhaps I should have started with that. Heh, put the words ‘muscleman’ and ‘giant cock’ in the first paragraph of a post and you’re almost guaranteed that the average MG forumer’s eyes will move onto the second. But I’m waffling, and he’s getting impatient. I suppose I'd better start at the beginning. Elicit pathos, that kind of thing. So...right. The auditorium. Man, that seems like a long time ago now, though it's only been a couple of hours. The auditorium, when the music began. Here we go. * The music began and Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I’m going with first names here. Paul. Not ‘the muscleman’ or ‘the bodybuilder’. Not some random, cliched appellation hanging on the end of a definite article that’ll do little more than keep you at a distance. We don’t want you at a distance. Paul, certainly, doesn’t want you at a distance. He wants you to know him. To feel what it’s like to be him. You’ve got to get to know him for any of this to make sense. Am I…eliciting pathos yet? Probably not. So. The plastic chair groaned in protest under Paul’s tremendous, heaving bulk, each of the metallic legs offering a pitiful creak as the stainless steel warped. Like most things on the planet, it hadn’t been designed with men like him in mind. He was surprised that it had held up this long, and knew it wouldn’t for much longer. But it wouldn’t have to. Soon he would be leaving the chair and – if he didn’t throw up first from nerves – getting up on stage in front of all these people. Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t nervous about showing off his mass. Hell, what was the point of being 620lbs of striated muscle if you didn’t like showing off? All bodybuilders have a narcissistic side to them, and Paul was no different. So there, now you’ve learned something about Paul’s personality. He’s no longer just a name and a massive cock. And I know what you’re thinking: while some of you may get a rise out of narcissism, it doesn’t exactly engender sympathy. Which is, after all, kind of what we’re going for here. But keep reading. Oh, and you did note the 620lbs, right? Even the least muscle-obsessed person (and why would you be on this site, reading this post, if you weren’t muscle-obsessed?) would acknowledge that’s not exactly normal. Just an extra little titbit there to keep you reading. To keep you hooked, so I can finally reveal what this is all about. Anyway, GM, sympathy. Gotta work on the sympathy. So where was I? Oh, yes, Paul’s narcissism. He loved the idea of showing off his hard-earned gains in front of a crowd. What hulking, sweat-drenched, striated monster bodybuilder doesn’t? It was the reaction to said gains that he was worried about. The audience’s emotions. He had never exposed himself – is that the right word? Got another anal twinge and my lexis has just gone out of the window – to such an enormous crowd, and he worried about that much revulsion directed towards him. He could handle such raw disgust from groups of people, trios and quartets, when he lumbered through the city streets. At the gym, he was used to working out with over twenty people watching him, flooding his brain with their abhorrence. But this auditorium was on another level. There must have been – what? – five or six hundred people here to watch the Olympia. That was a lot of revulsion to take. But it could be his only chance. The music rose to a crescendo and the hall about him erupted into clapping and whistles as the announcer read out the list of superheavyweights. The little people around his broad shoulders had come to their feet to better view the stage, and there was a bit of an altercation between them and the people behind them, whose view they were now blocking in turn. All arguments stopped when the mass monsters strolled onto the stage. Hmm, I should probably pause this here. You know what revulsion is, right? Those of you who read the title of this post incorrectly and are now wondering why you’re not currently reading about France circa 1789 should probably get your kicks elsewhere. The others who saw this topic and thought “What the fuck does revulsion have to do with muscles?” need to get your hands on a dictionary. Go ahead. I’ll wait. Still here? Fuck it, okay; I’ll tell you. Here’s dictionary.com’s definition: 1. a strong feeling of repugnance, distaste, or dislike Now, sure, we’re muscle addicts right? That’s the main reason I’m writing this post to you guys. The idea of finding huge muscle mass repugnant is bizarre to most of us. Or so I hope. But the average member of the public is kind of different. They’ll accept some muscle mass. Hell, with the rise in popularity of Men’s Physique competitions, the majority of the public can handle – what’s Jeff Seid? 200lbs? – a decent amount of striated brawn without cringing. Once you get past 300lbs though, all bets are off. For many, that’s getting into circus sideshow territory. Now project that forward. 400lbs. 500lbs. 620lbs. So yeah, Paul was fucking nervous about getting up on stage. On a side note, I need to use the word repugnance more. It’s a great word. Maybe I’ll slip it in later. Anyway, back to the guys who waddled onto stage, while Paul was still twitching in his seat. Ten there were, the biggest, most freakishly muscular men on the planet (well, compared to the average person). Paul’s big brown eyes flicked from one face to another, from one clenched sweep of pectorals to another, from one hyper-flexed, steel-hard, skin-straining thigh to another. These men had been his heroes. The gods he had idolised, the standard of muscular perfection he had once devoted his life towards attaining. These days, of course, he was twice as big as the biggest of them. Paul knew that when he reached the stage – when he fought down his goddamn nerves, stripped off the layers and layers of thick clothing that hid his musculature, and didn’t throw up in the process – he would dwarf every man up there. Yeah, I know I’ve used “dwarf” twice. So sue me. Anal pain, rearranged insides, difficulty thinking etc. Gritting his teeth so hard that the tendons in his pale neck stood out, the giant bodybuilder hauled himself out of the seat. Seven feet of man doesn’t go unnoticed and Paul felt the steady trickle of curiosity from those around him rising to a stream, then a torrent, as more and more heads turned to face him, eyes drinking in his enormity, his misshapen mass bundled under a motley of oversized clothing. Curiosity he could handle. It felt like rain on his skin. Mildly uncomfortable, but tolerable. Trying to stop his big fingers from shaking, Paul strode towards the stage, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. * His best friend Ben had called it a super-power. Paul didn’t know what to call it, but he had to admit, his origin story did read like a comic book. Oh, we’re doing a flashback now, in case I’ve caught you off-guard mid-wank. Backstory crap. Making Paul a more well-rounded character. Workin’ on that sympathy. Being both overweight and something of a computer nerd, Paul had been the victim of school bullies on and off for most of his teenage years, and had finally taken up bodybuilding shortly after his seventeenth birthday in order to put some muscle on. His hope, initially, had been to get big or strong enough to make the adolescent bullies think twice before jumping him. But the bodybuilding bug bit him hard, and suddenly simply getting big and strong enough wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted to be the biggest in his class. Then in his school. His goalposts moved, and moved again. As his eighteenth birthday rolled around, Paul found himself at 170lbs of iron-hard, shredded muscle, and eager for more. A lot more. “Who knew a body like that was hiding under all that flab!” Ben had joked. The problem was, Paul’s body stayed “like that” for the next few weeks. He had reached a plateau. Sure, everywhere he went, he could feel the eyes upon him, could sense the admiration – and sometimes, from the men, the jealousy – that his ripped teen physique drew. Most people would have been satisfied with that, but it wasn’t enough for him. Every day he would return from the gym to face the hulking superheavyweight bodybuilders gazing down at him cockily from the posters on his bedroom walls, and wonder what it would be like to look like them. To be regarded not just with admiration, but awe, respect…and maybe even a little fear. That was when his best friend pointed something out to him. Something that would change his life forever. “You can sense what people are feeling?” Paul hadn’t thought about it much, as focused as he had been on his bodybuilding goals. But yes, sometime around his eighteenth birthday, he had started to pick up on people’s emotions. Only those directed at him, and only if people weren’t trying to hide their feelings. His maths teacher, for example, was a closed book – but he knew for a fact that she had a crush on him, because he had overheard a conversation between her and a colleague where she had gushed about his body, barely contained in the school uniform, and what she would like to do to him – in detail – once he graduated in May. Yet when she was standing in front of the class, lecturing them about algebra and quadratic equations, Paul could feel no more from her than he could from the waste paper basket. She was an emotional blind spot. It was during this thread of the conversation that Paul admitted he couldn’t read Ben’s emotions either. Then, following a rather long, uncomfortable silence, Paul leaned forward – he was a lot more confident now than he had been one year earlier – and gave his best friend a small kiss. “I didn’t know you were gay,” Ben had whispered. “I didn’t know either,” he had whispered back. * Flashback working for you? Paul was reluctant to tell me his coming out story – even more so for me to share it with you guys. But I figured his character needed depth for this to work. Now in your minds he should be huge muscles + huge cock + narcissism + empathic + terrified of the way people see him. He’s gaining layers, right? He’s becoming well-rounded. He’s also growling at me to continue. It’s kind of a sexy noise. Bestial. But kind of terrifying too. So. Anyway. Back to the auditorium. * It was like a scene from a cowboy film. You know, when a stranger walks into the saloon? The cheering stopped, the bodybuilders stopped, and finally the music stopped, when Paul stepped onto the stage in his too-small posers, the only sound the straining of his massive thighs clenching into freakish hideousness beneath his pale, paper-thin skin as they supported his weight. I ask you, who turns off the fucking MUSIC? It was awkward as hell. I mean, sure, for me, cra-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-zy hot, but painful too. He tells me he had planned on speaking. Something arrogant, cocky – that always seemed to get the best reaction. But he could feel the pin-pricks of revulsion slicing against his skin, spreading across the vast, twitching mass of his swollen physique, growing into tiny razor-blades of disgust as more and more of the audience recoiled at his appearance. And he knew he had to get this done quickly. So he turned, and, smirking down at the thousand eyes glued to his unreal body, raised both arms into a double bicep. Everything about the pose was practised, from the stance, to the smirk, to the flex itself. He may have been thinking “I hate this; I can’t take it – I just want to crawl off stage and hide myself away forever”, but he was exuding “LOOK AT MY FUCKING GODLY MASS, YOU PUNY LITTLE SHITS!” A lot of bodybuilders are actually really insecure. I mean, we worship them as muscle gods but many of them are just frightened little boys inside. Wow, that came across as really poignant. Paul’s growl has hit a kind of bass scariness. He wants me to get back to them biceps. So. His arms – 58 inches around at last count – nearly erupted from the skin as they swelled and hardened into twin Everests of pale flesh, seeming to grow bigger and bigger still as he SQUEEZED mass into them. Thick veins, pushed to the surface by the grotesque swelling of the unimaginable muscle mass of his biceps and triceps, spread out across the steel-hard surface of his giant arms, pumping hot bodybuilder blood into the muscle, causing the brawn to harden still MORE, the clenched mass to STRAIN BIGGER. 60 inches of god-muscle. “Nggggggggg,” was all he was able to manage. For me, that grunt was insane. Like every cocky, muscle-hungry bodybuilder’s wishes for freakish size condensed into a single-syllabled grunt. I mean, yeah, it was audible, but I swear it was physical too. I felt that grunt shuddering through me. My cock – without even going through the trouble of getting hard – just spat cum down my thigh. And I was like, right at the back of the auditorium. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for those in the front row. Well, actually, I can, because Paul told me. In short (and fuck, MG forum, you’d better be practically dripping with sympathy by now): The razors became knives of loathing as the audience emoted their disgust. “Look at him – he makes the other Olympians look puny!” “He’s a monster!” “A freak!” “How can anyone stand to have that much muscle mass?” “He’s so huge he makes me want to puke!” Paul slipped effortlessly into an ab and thigh pose, the adamantine cubes of his ten-pack hardening into INHUMAN FREAKINESS as he strained the sinews to near-breaking point. His thighs, writhing like thick, striated pythons beneath the skin, bloated outwards hideously, gargantuan quads GROWING past 100 inches, 110, and finally, legs looking like they were about to split apart with so much muscle fibre vying for godlike growth, settling at a vomit-inducing 118 inches of straining, freakish mass. Revulsion slammed into him, a wall of jagged knives that cut him to his core. Through clenched eyes Paul saw the faces of the audience, some pale with disgust, others turned away from the sight of his steaming, iron-forged god-mass in horror. He slipped painfully into a most-muscular, the great mass of his brawn shifting like continental plates, his grunts and strains becoming words: “I’M FUCKING MASSIVE! AND I’M ONLY GONNA GET BIGGER! SO MUCH BIGGER! I’M GONNA TEACH YOU PUNY LITTLE SHITS THE MEANING OF THE WORD HUGE!” Paul said that it just slipped out. That never before had his cockiness asserted itself in quite so drastic a manner. I mean, the guy was feeling TERRIBLE. I think it acted as a shield. You know, like when fat kids introduce themselves as “Tubby” or “Lard-ass”; they want to own the word so that it has no power over them. Paul wanted to own massive. Wanted to own huge. Wanted to own bigger. You know, so the revulsion wouldn’t affect him. He says it worked, a little. He’s also saying he wants me to come back to bed. Why is it that my insides seem to ache when he says that? Are they expressing their opinion about being rearranged again? I’m almost finished, Paul. We’re almost done. Back to that most-muscular – how my dick is even able to get hard again at the memory, when the rest of my body just feels bruised inside and out, is beyond me – and the reaction of the audience: It wasn’t only revulsion that he felt slicing into his sinews. There were other emotions. Jealousy, of course, from the superheavyweights cowering in his shadow. Admiration and not a little awe and excitement from some of the more hardcore bodybuilding enthusiasts in the audience. But these emotions were mere particles, lost in the furious maelstrom of revulsion that threatened to drive him off the stage. And besides, they weren’t the one emotion he was looking for. The emotion he craved. The emotion that had enabled him to grow this size. Lust. * Yup, you read that right. Lust makes Paul grow. Well, when combined with sex, anyway. And you thought reading people's emotions was the stud's only superpower? (And what, he got his mass after being bitten by a radioactive protein shake?) Here's when he first figured it out: * To most people, 10lbs would not have been that noticeable. Paul, ever body-conscious, had noticed immediately. “You’re telling me that sex with me made you grow?” Ben had asked, nuzzling one of his lover's striated teen pecs. The two were intertwined on his bedroom floor, some forty minutes after their mutual declaration of affection. Er, yeah, this is another flashback. Only two thirds of an hour after the previous one. Sorry if you thought this was just a fapping story and have now lost the thread of the plot. For those of you still on board, here goes: Paul was immediately keen to try again. Forcing his lover’s skinny legs back and allowing them to rest on his twitching delts, he pushed his thick cock inside his best friend’s sore anus. The first time they had fucked, he had to force the sphincter to stretch to accommodate his cock, but now it fit deliciously about his erect member, like a tight, warm, fleshy glove. Almost. “Ngg,” Ben had said. “Your muscles aren’t the only thing that have grown. You feel…bigger inside me.” Paul admits that he felt proud, when he saw the awe in his best friend’s eyes. When his skin prickled with the thick atmosphere of man that resonated off the fucking WALLS of Ben’s bedroom, and his nostrils flared, drinking in its testosterone-drenched magnificence. When he noticed how his hands deftly fit around the entire waist of his smaller lover. When he saw the head of his own fucking dick pressing up against the underside of Ben’s abdomen, causing a small lump to rise on the flat, glimmering, sweat-bedecked plain of the skinny boy’s stomach with every thrusted HILT of his mega-cock. Would any of you have felt differently? Eager to grow once more, Paul started to rut furiously, the sound of his big balls slap-slap-slapping against flesh nearly drowning out his grunts and his best friend’s squeals of pleasure at being stretched, ravaged, dominated so effortlessly. It took longer for them both to orgasm the second time, but it was well worth the effort. Whereas before, Paul had only noticed the growth after the act, this time, he actually felt his muscles dividing, thickening, hardening, his ripped mass broadening into something new, something stupendous. Ben felt it too. “Fuck…your penis…ow!” The little man had gasped, eyes screwed up in pain. It had taken Paul a moment to feel it himself. His dick was growing, swelling into a thick, vein-coated log of man inside his lover’s already-stretched anus. He pulled out with some difficulty and let Ben’s legs rest back on the floor. The poor boy’s arse looked enflamed. He had really done a number on it. Paul’s gaze didn’t linger on Ben’s rectum for long, however. His eyes caught his physique in the mirror. “Holy shit,” he had murmured. “I’m huge.” He flexed a bicep and watched the peak swell into a hard ball of mass. “Fuck.” He had Ben fetch a scale for him. “200lbs. Heh, that’s 30lbs more than I weighed when I woke up this morning. The effects must be cumulative – the first time we had sex I gained 10lbs, the second 20lbs…” Ben was in awe of his much more muscular best friend, though he was in too much pain to do much more than offer a wincing nod. I kind of know how he feels. To be honest, I’m surprised he could even fetch the damn scale. I was practically comatose after the first time that we fucked. Not sure why I wrote ‘the first time’. I mean, it’s been the only time. Paul’s growling again. The only time…so far. Can I get back to Ben and the flashback? Right. So Paul, striated, freakish pecs glinting in the light from the sweat-fogged bulb hanging from the ceiling, had turned back to his small lover. Ben looked so cute, so delicate, so weak – the thoughts made his newly-forged cock stiffen and thicken to its full 11-inch length. He grinned down at the shivering teenager before him. “Fuck, if we keep having sex, I could be over 500lbs by the end of the day. Or maybe even bigger.” “Bigger?” Paul tells me Ben had kind of gasped at the idea of him at that size. “Yeah! I mean, who’s to say I should stop at 500? I could keep going…I mean…well, forever!” His handsome, pale face split into a broad smirk. “I could become a GOD OF MUSCLE!” * Ok, ok, I'll get on with it. Flashback over. Sympathy (hopefully) elicited. Paul’s character (hopefully) well-rounded. Just don't forget about that opportunity I was telling you about earlier. So, anyway. The auditorium. Olympia. Horrified crowd. Paul's most muscular. Here we go: * Paul’s most muscular caused his striated mass to swell so much that he completely blotted out the Olympia logo on the stage wall behind him. At 620lbs, some might have called him a god. His last lover had called him a freak. Yeah, I’m going to talk about some of the other lucky bastards who got to feel the stud growing inside them and around them. A final sympathy pitch, if you will. So. Previous lover. Revulsion after he had grown. Not at first, of course. Not when he had been 520lbs. Then, he had been a "Titan". A "Stud". Nice nicknames, spilled from drooling lips while the man fondled Paul's pecs. But afterwards. Stretched out, exhausted and horrified, with barely enough energy to muster a disgusted tone, he had said it. "You GREW when we fucked? You're..." Here we go, Paul had thought, beginning to feel the icicle of emotion stabbing into him. "You're a freak! You're too big." Paul was brazen to revulsion like this. It's what he told himself, anyway. From Ben on the bedroom floor, to the personal trainer in the locker room at the gym, to the hulk in the back of his van parked outside B&Q, to the size fetishist on a yoga mat at the YMCA...everyone radiated smoldering lust at first, an emotion that quickly gave way to revulsion once he grew. These days, though, even a spark of lust, a goddamned cinder, was getting harder to find. It had been nearly three months since the pec-fondling size fetishist. He had even tried to entice his former maths teacher to jump in bed with him, but the spear of revulsion that she had thrown at him the minute she opened her front door as gazed with horror on his twitching, sweat-drenched hypermuscularity was so sharp he had nearly passed out from the pain. Ben was no better. They were still friends - to an extent - but the little man had made it clear that Paul was simply too big for him, and he didn't find him attractive any more. Hadn't done since he'd helped the bodybuilder - with no small amount of coaxing, or lube, on Paul's part - reach a jaw-dropping 320lbs of mass. Paul grunted on the stage, SQUEEZING his most muscular as though coaxing his blood-engorged muscles to EXPLODE out across the auditorium. Like there was any such thing as "too big". Which is what had brought him to the Olympia. If there was one event sure to attract guys into huge, freaky muscle, it was this one. So here he was, on stage, a superhuman, muscular god compared to the oiled up wimps cowering at the side of the stage, putting himself on display like a piece of meat, exposing himself to wave after dolorous wave of loathing and disgust, on the small chance that someone out there...someone among the hundreds of faces twisted in revulsion...would be attracted to him. It was the single most glorious, and painful, moment of Paul's life. * My most painful moment was when I took him up on it. I never thought I'd ever find a man big enough for me, but Paul proved to be just that. And then some. It was really embarrassing, being singled out by him like that. Well, kind of embarrassing and exciting at the same time. He stepped down off the stage, muscles pumped bigger than the Hulk's, that big battering ram of a cock of his swinging side to side in anticipation, barely contained by his overstretched posers. The crowd parted like the red sea. It was like they couldn't stand being touched by him. By the freak. The monster. And then he thundered over - I have to say thundered; there is no other verb that adequately conveys the sound of all that muscle approaching - and was suddenly standing before me. "You like huge muscle?" He said to me. An odd sort of first sentence, really, soon to be outdone by the second: "You want to fuck?" Now I can't sense people's emotions the way Paul can, but I swear I felt my skin prickle as some of the crowd's revulsion was directed at me. So here we are. Here we are, MG forum. I've got him to 720, my fellow MG forum chums. Seven hundred and twenty pounds of striated man. We broke the hotel bed. I mean, almost immediately. And then Paul proceeded to nearly break me. He wants to go again, to get to 830lbs. But I'm too knackered right now. Paul, stop growling. I feel like my insides have been rearranged - which, in a way, I guess they have. My lust has been sated. I persuaded Paul to tell me his story while I - what? - recovered, for want of a better term. Then I thought about you guys. You see, pretty soon Paul's going to be too big for me. Maybe not the next growth spurt, or the next...but everyone has a limit, and soon I'll reach mine. But I know that some of you have limits beyond mine. You want your men to be huge. To be gods. I think Paul is almost there. He says he's nowhere near. I don't want him to experience revulsion ever again. He's had enough for one lifetime. I have helped you experience how that feels, right? I’ve even channelled the imagery of jabbing implements – knives and razors – into my writing, to make his own experiences of repugnance (told ya I’d get that word in sometime) more vivid. So when I start to feel he's getting "too big"...I want one of you to take over. To keep growing him. And then, when you reach your limits, pass him onto the next MG forum member. And so on. Paul says he feels a bit embarrassed, being treated like a piece of meat, but if his erection is anything to go by - damn, my arse is hurting just looking at that thing - he's kind of excited by the idea. Have I elicited enough sympathy for you? I really tried my best with those flashbacks. Or maybe lust? I was channelling my inner Shakespeare when describing that most muscular. ... Anyway. Those 17 inches aren't going to take care of themselves. I'd better sign off. Let me know if you're interested in an 830lb bodybuilder. Or maybe a 950lb one, if my lust holds out. ...ok, maybe 1080lbs. We'll see. Catch you later, MG forum. Goremeridian (GM for short).
  8. I pulled my car to the curb as the headlights illuminated a scene I’ve seen far too many times before: the main street of a small Midwestern town – demolished. The acrid smell of smoke hit me immediately as I got out of my car and I could see one or two fires that the fire department was still putting out. There were huge craters and steaming crevices opening up all up and down the street. Cars flipped on their sides, on their backs, or smashed to hell and scattered in pieces across the entire area. There was even a Ford sticking half way out of a building’s shattered second story wall. Hmmm… that was a calling card. I’d seen it before. This thing had a Hard Rock Café fetish. Most of these buildings were seriously damaged with huge gaping holes in the side. Some of them had been completely demolished. Powerlines were down and sparking. And of course, there was the usual scattering of dazed and bewildered people wondering the streets. I did a quick survey of them to see if any of them were naked or near naked. That was always a give-away, but no such luck. I did a second pass to see if any of them looked nervous our guilty. Again, I came up empty. I guess I’d have to do this one the hard way. The harsh flashing of red and blue emergency lights lit up the street. I made my way to one of the cop cars and quickly identified the man I was looking for. “You the Sheriff?” I asked, getting the man’s attention. “Yeah,” he said, looking me up and down and giving me the standard lawman’s appraisal. He was a middle aged man, tall with a big frame and surprisingly still in good shape. Usually, the small town law men let themselves go and developed doughnut guts, but this guy had managed to avoid that fate, filling out his tight fitting uniform nicely. “You the guy?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said, producing my ID card. “I’m the guy.” The Sheriff took it, looked it over and handed it back to me. “A Hunter, hunh? I hope you can help us,” he said. “We’re not used to this kind of thing around here.” “Sheriff,” I said. “They’re not used to this kind of thing anywhere.” I looked around at the professional efficiency of the local emergency response team. “Still, your people seem to have things well in hand.” “They’re accustomed to tornados,” said the Sheriff. “But this is a little different.” I looked back out at the scene. Yeah, the destruction here could have easily been caused by a tornado. But it wasn’t. “Anyone killed?” I asked. “Not that we’ve found,” he said, “but we’re still surveying the damage.” “Any witnesses?” I asked. “Plenty,” said the Sheriff. “Where would you like to start?” I’ve had a lot of experience interviewing dazed people. The challenge is to keep them on topic and ease up before they get hysterical. And they tended to get hysterical. But as the interviews progressed, I got pretty much what I was expecting, descriptions of a massively muscled green giant 8 to 12 feet in height, with a stomach like a cinderblock wall, gigantic, striated, globular pecs, biceps carved, veiny and maybe 60 inches around, impossibly thick neck with mountainous traps and colossal shoulders, a back wide as a building and made from enormous concreate slabs of muscle, and a pair of legs like bulging twin muscle pylons. This thing tore through buildings like they were paper, picked up and tossed cars like they were Matchboxes, and pounded huge craters into the street with just his fists. No one had seen where it’d come from and no one had seen where it had gone. Typical. And that’s the problem: It was typical. And this time, I wasn’t looking for typical. “Did you see it, sheriff?” I asked. “No sir,” he replied. “Too bad,” I said. It was always helpful to get a description from someone who was trained to make quick and accurate observations, the way law enforcement officers were. The civilians were describing a creature 8 to 12 feet in height. But these people were unable to judge size accurately, and often, the size of these hulks got magnified by fear. Now most of your hulks were 8 or 9 feet tall, weighing somewhere between 1 and 2 tons. Once in a while you’d get one as big as 10 feet, but that was very rare. Lately we’d been hearing rumors of an uber hulk, 12 feet tall and more massively muscled than anything on record, 4 maybe 5 tons. If this were true, it meant that the hulks might be continuing to mutate. There was even the chance that they’d found some way to make themselves bigger and even more impossibly jacked. That would be bad. So, we needed to know if this was just a rumor or if there was any truth behind it. But as the interviews continued, all I got were height estimates in the 8 to 12 foot range, completely unhelpful. “I don’t get it,” said the Sheriff after our last interview. “How do you stop a thing like that?” “You don’t,” I said. “You see one; you run and hide. Don’t come out til they’re human again.” “Now, that’s where I have a hard time with this,” said the Sheriff. “You’re saying these things are sometimes human?” “Most of the time,” I said. “That’s how they hide.” “And they just get huge and green whenever they’re pissed off?” he asked. “Yes and no,” I said. “It’s easier if you think about it like shouting.” “Shouting?” “Sure, you can shout whenever you want, right? But you don’t. Sometimes you do when you want to be heard a distance away, or you want to get someone’s attention, but most of the time you just use a normal conversational tone. But when you get mad, you just start shouting automatically. You don’t even think about it. It’s kinda like that.” “You been doing this a long time?” he asked. “20 years,” I said, “since The Event.” “Yeah,” said the Sheriff. “What happened there?” “Small town, like this one, accidental catastrophic Gamma Radiation exposure and tada, thousands of these things running loose in the countryside.” “Everybody in the town?” asked the sheriff. “Yup, every man, woman and child.” “You mean there are women things like that?” “Oh yeah,” I said. “But you wouldn’t know they were women by sight. When they change, any boobs they had are completely overwhelmed by massive, shredded, pectoral muscles. Their larynxes expand and their voices drop about 5 octaves. The only way you could really tell is to pull down their pants… and I really wouldn’t advise that.” “…and kids?” “Well, The Event was 20 years ago. They’re not kids anymore. But back in the day, they were still pretty dangerous. I once saw a toddler shoot up to 5’ 4”and grow biceps big as your head. He picked up an SUV and hurled it at me.” “What about… their kids?” “They can’t have kids. Gama irradiated sperm eradicates eggs and vise versa. They’re essentially sterile.” “So there are thousands of these things running around?” “Not nearly so many these days. I’ve caught 523, myself, and there are dozens of us out there hunting. But, you know, all modesty aside, I’m the best.” “Well, we’re certainly glad to have you with us. You let me know if there’s anything we can do to assist.” “Actually, there is. Most of the time, these guys are loners, living off somewhere by themselves. Usually, they move around a lot. So, if you’ve got anyone new in town who fits that description, or maybe a vagrant?” I was just hunting a vagrant hulk out on highway 12. But he hitched a ride with some trucker and I lost him. But, I’d get him eventually. I always did. “Anyone like that…?” “Not that I can think of offhand, but I’ll ask around,” he said. “You do that, Sheriff,” I said. The man tipped his hat and walked away. That was ridiculous; every town had someone like that, every single one! So, why is the sheriff holding out on me? I mentally added the sheriff to my persons of interest list. You could never be too careful, never. I had one guy who lived in a small town for a decade without incident. Then one day something happened and he just let loose in a bar right in front of all his buddies. He nearly doubled in height and exploded into about a ton and a half of mountainous, chiseled muscle, writhing beneath paper thin green skin. Roaring and gloating over his impossible mass and power, he proceeded to put several of his “buddies” through the wall and then to take apart half the town. The guy felt sorry in the end, though. Actually turned himself in. Hard to take credit for that one. But, you know, I did. For these people, the temptation to change is always too much. All that muscle and power raging just under the skin is ultimately impossible to resist, gets them every time. And that’s when I get them. I began to inspect the area, looking for anything that might give me a clue as to where it started, where my guy blew his gasket, muscle exploded right through his clothes and began tearing apart the town. No place really seemed any more likely than another. But I did notice one or two puzzling things. With hulks, you got your pounders and your hurlers. Your pounders like smashing things up with their fists; nothing they like better than ripping apart a building with their obscenely muscled arms and their giant, bare, power shovel-like hands. Your hurlers like throwing things, the bigger the better. Their massive backs heaving with tectonic plates of muscle as they hoist a car or a pickup over their heads and let it fly right through the local post office, annihilating both vehicle and building. Don’t get me wrong; they all did both. But each hulk seemed to favor one or the other. But in this case, there appeared to be plenty of both pounding and hurling. Hulks almost never mixed. I guess it was because they liked being the biggest, baddest thing around and didn’t want any serious competition. But in this case, could I be dealing with two beasts? I’d run into two hulks only once before, not something I’d like to repeat. The creatures leveled an entire town trying to prove which one was bigger and stronger. Got them both in the end, though. And then I saw it, the gas station. There was a demolished building on the right side of it and one on the left side, but the station with its minimart was untouched. My first thought was, “Lucky thing, if those tanks had blown, it could have taken out the whole block.” But then I thought, “Maybe it’s not luck at all. Maybe that place was spared for a reason. Even the lights were on… and hell, it was open for business!” I moseyed on over there and in through the small store’s open glass door. The bright florescent lights over lit the place, making me squint and giving my cranium notice that a headache was on the way. The store was pretty much like every minimart you’ve ever seen, completely ordinary. Shelves lined with junk food, pain killers and magazines; there was no indication as to why it might have been spared by the titanic raging muscle beast who had destroyed the rest of the street. A couple of emergency workers were lined up at the cash register buying coffee and snacks from the teenage cashier. Other than that, the place was empty. When the Emergency Workers left, I walked up to the kid at the register. He was about 5’ 8”, thin as a rail and needed a haircut. He had a boyish face that made him look too young to be working there. He was letting his side burns climb down his round cheeks and trying to grow a Van Dyke – looked pretty scraggly. The kid was obviously trying to look older than he was; a boy apparently frustrated by the slow pace of his burgeoning masculinity. He looked up and smiled as I approached. Dazzling blue eyes and a killer smile, if he added a little beef to his frame, he’d be a real knockout. I peered at the name tag on his shirt. “Ollie,” it said. “See the show, Ollie?” I asked. “Hunh?” he asked. “Did you see what happened? Outside. All the damage?” “Oh, hell yeah,” he said. “Most fucked up thing I ever saw. The size of that dude and his fucking enormous-ass muscles… And he just kept roaring and throwing cars at buildings and there were explosions and fuck…!” Hmm, the sheriff didn’t put this kid on his witness list, another red flag. “Lucky he missed this place,” I said. “I guess,” he said. “You guess?” “Well, if he’d smashed it up, I wouldn’t have to work tonight,” he said, smiling sheepishly. God, that smile… “You often work the night shift?” I asked. “How old are you?” “I’m old enough,” he said. “I’m 18.” “You got ID?” “Yeah, sure,” he said pulling out his nylon and Velcro wallet and handing me his drivers license. I looked it over carefully. Yup, it was genuine. I checked the birth date. This kid was actually 18. No wonder he was trying to grow a beard. With that pretty baby face, he hardly looked 16. But I had to check anyway. I’d seen guys who looked this young who were actually over 20, and if he were over 20, he’d definitely be on my list. “Hey, are you a cop?” he asked. “No, I’m not a cop, kid,” I said handing him back is license, “but I’m helping them.” “Helping them?” he said. “What? Find the giant green muscle guy?” The kid cracked a smile. “Yeah,” I said. “What’s funny?” “Mister, that guy had massive carved biceps the size of truck tires. You go against him and you’re gonna wind up a stain on the bottom of his giant, green foot.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said. “No wonder your boss has you working nights.” “Oh, I don’t usually work nights, because we’re usually not open nights. Just, you know, all the shit going on. My boss, Mr. Gunderson, thought we’d make a killing on coffee and doughnuts – you know, all the cops.” “Your boss, this Gunderson, you see him tonight?” “Nah, he just called and asked me to keep the place open.” “You see him a lot?” “No, he kinda keeps to himself. It’s one of the best things about this job.” And the kid didn’t think that was a little strange? Well, at least the boy still had his looks. “Does he live near here?” “He’s got a place just outside of town, lives there alone.” The only undamaged business on the street and it’s owned by a loner. It was perfect, a little too perfect. I began to smell a trap. It wouldn’t be the first time one of these things had tried to set me up. “Are you being straight with me, kid?” I asked, looking him in the eye and trying to read him. “Whaddaya mean? Yeah… course, I am,” he said, but those sparkling blues of his were darting around a little too much. I wasn’t buying it. There was something about this kid. He was definitely hiding something. “It’s got some kind of hold on you,” I said. “A hostage, is that it? Maybe a girlfriend or a relative?” The kid looked terrified and glanced up. I followed his gaze. Damn, a surveillance camera. I should have thought of that. This whole thing had been on hulk TV. I pulled out my gun and shot the lens out. “Come on, kid,” I said, “we gotta get outta here.” “But… but…,” he said. “No buts,” I said. “It’s gonna assume you told me everything, and it’s gonna be coming! We gotta go. NOW!” I grabbed the kid and dragged him bodily from the store. We ran a couple of blocks and then ducked into an alley way and hid behind some rubble. The kid was nearly in tears. “My ma!” he said. “You’re what?” I asked. “My ma,” he said. “The massive green muscle guy’s got my ma. And now he’s gonna squish her. That’s what he said; he said he’d squish her!” “What else did he say? What were you supposed to tell me?” I grilled him. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you nothing,” said the kid. “I was just supposed to get you to go out to Gunderson’s.” “Why? What was going to happen there?” “I don’t know. I was just supposed to get you to go there, and now my ma…” the kid trailed off as the ground shook and we heard an earthshaking thud. The thing had arrived at the minimart. I pulled the kid down into the shadows behind the rubble. We head the sound of smashing glass and metal followed by a bellowing roar, probably as the thing discovered we’d gone. “It’s gonna come lookin’,” said the kid. “What do we do? It’s gonna come lookin’.” “Don’t worry, kid,” I said softly. “These things are great at smash and grab, not so good at hide and seek. We’ll just stay here quietly for a while, until it goes.” We peeked up over the rubble pile and saw the thing. It was massive, but just an 8-footer, not my Uber. No matter, it still had to be stopped. The impossibly muscled behemoth was stomping around overturning cars and dumpsters, with just the slightest effort of its massive, corded forearm, just a flick of its giant green wrist. And letting out the occasional bellow of frustration. Stealth was just not an option for these guys. We shank back into the shadows. “Hey, what do I call you?” asked the kid. “I’m a hunter, kid. Best if you just call me Hunter. It’s too easy to track a man by his name these days, and I’d just as soon no one tracked me.” “Hunter, that thing scares the shit out of me,” said the kid. “My stomach… I think I’m gonna be sick.” “Hold it together, kid,” I said. “Or you’re gonna be useless to me.” “I’m not useless,” he said, “just a little scared.” Fuck, looked like I hit a nerve. I’m not too good with Millennials. Another bellowing roar. “He’s probably not scared of anything,” said the kid. “He’s afraid of me.” “Then why aren’t you out there looking for him, instead of him looking for us?” “Because I meet these things on my terms, in a place and time of my choosing, not theirs.” We head another roar and a tremendous crash. The thing probably tossed one of those dumpsters through a building. They usually did that kind of thing when they got frustrated. “But, don’t worry,” I said. “This one’s not really serious about finding us.” “It sounds pretty fucking serious to me!” he said. “No, I had one destroy an entire city block trying to flush me out… or crush me beneath the rubble.” “No shit. How did you stop it?” “The same way I always do, kid, by using my head.” “You mean they’re stupid?” “No, not stupid. They just think with their muscles.” “They think with their muscles? That just sounds like another way of saying they’re stupid.” “No, kid, it just means they think their muscles are the answer to everything.” “And muscles like that? They’re not…?” “No.” The kid looked scared. I obviously wasn’t convincing him. “Don’t worry kid; we’ll get through this.” But I kept thinking about what I’d said to the kid. This hulk really wasn’t serious about finding us. Why not? Why wasn’t he tearing these buildings to pieces looking? I looked down at the crouching kid. Was he the answer? “How well do you know this thing?” I asked. “I don’t know him at all,” said the kid. “He just grabbed my ma and started giving me orders.” “Did you know him when he was human?” I asked. “Human? That thing’s not human!” he said. “Not now,” I said, “But I’m beginning to think he knows you. Maybe he’s sweet on you.” “What?” said the kid. “Fuck no!” “Well,” I said. “You are kinda pretty.” “Fuck you!” he said. “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?’ “Kid, I am hot shit. I’ve stopped hundreds of these things. They may seem like impossibly powerful and unstoppable creatures, but by the time I’m done with them, they’re whiny, sniveling little bitches.” I put my finger to my lips, shushing the kid and we sat there for a moment listening to the silence. “I think it’s gone for now,” I said. “It should be safe to go out.” “What do we do?” he asked. “We’ll get your ma, kid,” I said patting him on the back. “Know where he’s got her?” The kid nodded. “Warehouse, ass end of town.” “Show me,” I said. I wasn’t convinced I wasn’t still heading into a trap, but one way or another I was going to get this beast. And if I kept my wits about me, I should still be ok. We made our way stealthily through the back streets and alleyways toward this warehouse. “I don’t know what I’d do, if I ever lost Ma,” said the kid. “Pa, he comes and goes. Sometime he’s there, sometimes he’s not. A free spirit, Ma calls him. But Ma, she’s always been there for me, always.” “Don’t worry, kid, I’ll get this thing.” “How?” he asked. “Sorry, kid,” I answered, “trade secret.” “What if I became a Hunter?” “Sure, kid,” I answered, “maybe someday… when you grow up.” “I’m 18!” he protested. “Kid, I’m gonna keep it real. It takes nerves of steel to be a Hunter, and I gotta tell you, getting sick under pressure… just ain’t gonna cut it. I don’t think you’ve got the balls for this.” The kid scowled and muttered, “I got balls. I got plenty ‘a balls…” But I just let it rest. All the way, I was on the lookout for anything that hinted at massive green muscles, but we arrived at our destination without incident. “In there,” whispered the kid, while pointing at a derelict building. “My ma’s in there.” “Stay here,” I said, and I crept up to a small window by the door and peered in. Sure enough there was a middle aged woman tied to a metal folding chair. The massive green behemoth was nearby doing shoulder presses with a Buick. I strained to get a good look at it. No matter how many times I saw one, these things never failed to awe me. It had truly massive shoulders and I could see every ridiculously thick muscle fiber bulging in its enormous delts as it pressed that car up and down. I followed garden hose sized veins down off those pulsating shoulders and over colossal biceps, which changed from thick veiny slabs to chiseled, throbbing boulders, as its arms bent and then straightened out. It had gigantic globular pecs which flexed and bugled enormously as it lifted. Its stomach was like armored steel plating clenching together and releasing as it moved. Its legs were slightly bent causing its enormous sculpted quads to bulge out to impossible proportions as they handled part of the load. The thing was clad only in a pair of ragged tattered shorts, practically the hulk uniform. Most of these things retained enough intelligence that they could clothe themselves properly, but none of them ever did. I think they wanted everyone to see their impossibly overdeveloped physiques… and I imagined they enjoyed looking at it themselves. “Are you going to need help? Should I go get the Sheriff?” I looked over and the kid had ignored me and followed; he was now peering in the window, too. The sheriff? What did he think the Sheriff could do against that green, carved mountain of muscle? Wait a minute. Things were starting to click into place. This was definitely a trap and I was almost in it. There had to be two of these things; the one in the warehouse was a distraction. They were expecting me to assume this hulk was acting alone. The Sheriff had to be the other one. They were gambling I’d be so focused on the obvious hulk that I’d never see the Sheriff explode into a muscle beast until it was too late. The kid was setting me up. I wondered if he even knew it. I hoped he and his mother got out of this alright, but once the hulks started smashing, nothing was certain. Fortunately, I had an ace up my sleeve they had no idea about. “Yeah, kid,” I said. “Go get the Sheriff.” The kid disappeared and I briefly contemplated trying to get his mother out of there so she wouldn’t get injured in the crossfire. Well, I say crossfire, but it’s only an expression. Bullets didn’t have any effect against these monstrously muscular things. Only one thing did. The kid was back quickly with the Sheriff. I would have said too quickly if I hadn’t already figured out what was going on. “What’s the situation?” said the Sheriff. The time for roleplaying was over. I reached into my jacket pocket, removed my injector and injected the trank right through the Sheriff’s shirt, directly into his forearm. “AH!” he yelled, instinctively recoiling and grabbing his forearm. “What the hell was that?” I wasted no more time. I hit the sheriff in the chin and knocked him on his ass, and then swiftly grabbing the night stick from his belt, I rendered him unconscious with it. “What’d you just do?” gasped the kid. “What the hell did you just do?” “Keep calm, kid, I know what I’m doing,” I said. “Now we’re gonna go in there in a minute and I want you to concentrate on getting your mother out of there. Let me worry about the big green muscle beast. He’ll be far too busy with me to pay any attention to you. So get your mom out of there fast, and the two you don’t stop running until you get home, understand?” The kid nodded rapidly. “Good.” I reached down, disarmed the sheriff and then cuffed him with his own handcuffs. He was starting to come to. I slapped him back into semi-consciousness and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, buddy,” I said. “You’re coming with me.” Shoving the Sheriff in front of me, I kicked open the door and went inside. The kid followed behind. “What the hell is this?” I heard and felt the over amplified base this thing used for a voice. There was discernable wind and even a slight rumble in the ground. “He’s got me,” said the Sheriff. “I feel woozy and… I can’t change!” “That’s right, Jumbo,” I said to the green muscle beast. I leveled my gun at the Sheriff’s head and said, “Now you’re gonna shrink down or I’ll ventilate his ear drums!” “I’ll fucking smash you!” thundered the beast. This threat was remarkably consistent and I’d probably heard it about 523 times before. “You can’t smash me without also smashing the sheriff, here,” I said. “Maybe I don’t care about that,” it said. “If that were true, you’d have smashed me already,” I said. “What’d you do to him?” it roared. “And now we come to it,” I said, “the reason for this whole elaborate trap. I catch you guys for a living and you don’t know how the hell I do it, do you? It defies your limited hulk logic that a little puny guy like me could lay out your over muscled asses. You’re scared to risk a direct confrontation because you don’t know what you’re going against.” From the look on the creature’s face, I knew I’d nailed it. “Well, as soon as you shrink down,” I said. “I’ll be pleased to demonstrate… AH!” I suddenly felt an iron grip on my arm as the gun was ripped from my hand like a toy might be taken from a child. I whirled around and saw the kid had grabbed my gun! “Hey Hunter,” he called mockingly. He grinned evilly, and flexed. RIIIP! Massive veiny biceps erupted out of his skinny arms and blew apart his sleeves! He laughed, gloating over his suddenly powerful, chiseled appendages. Fuck! The kid was one of them! He was goddam one of them! But how..? He was too young! “Didn’t see that coming, did ya, Hunter?” he said. “How ‘bout this?” He threw back his head, let out a euphoric moan, and suddenly blew up bigger, much bigger. He shot up at least 4 inches, his weak chest and narrow shoulders exploding into huge pecs and bulging delts. His formally loose minimart shirt was instantly skin tight, or maybe I should say muscle tight. Then his stick legs blew up into huge quads and hams, showing their deep cuts and thick ridges right through his uniform pants. “Fuck, that feels good!” he roared! Damn, I’d been right. Those boyish good looks and all that muscle… This kid’d stop traffic! Then he reached into my pocket, pulled out my injector and easily crushed it in his suddenly huge and powerful hand. “That’s the end of your secret fucking weapon,” he gloated. “Now see mine!” Grinning he flexed his giant carved biceps again. I watched the shreds of his sleeves slide off those, large, expanding boulder-like biceps and bunch up below his expanding bulbous shoulders, getting caught for an instant between the two ballooning masses of muscle, until… Pop, pop, riiiip, and his sleeves just broke apart, shredding and rolling back like the peel on a banana. “FUCK!” he bellowed! “That feels SO FUCKING GOOD!” I had to get out of there! I hadn’t taken a step before he grabbed me by the front of my shirt. "Where you goin’, little man? I played your game; now you’re gonna play mine.” With that he hoisted me up by the front of my shirt with both hands and started doing curls with me. “Check out the bi’s, Hunter,” he gloated as we both watched them expand another chiseled inch. “My nerves might not be steel,” he bared his teeth in a manic grin as, with every rep he completed, his huge biceps bulged bigger and bigger and bigger, “But… I make up for it… with my HUGE… FUCKING ARMS!” The kid’s breathing grew heavier and he began growling softly as he watched them evolve into carved, iron mountains of flesh and huge veiny peaks began to form. And with each rep, the kid got taller. “Oh fuck, I like this!” he roared, his voice booming with a new power, as he bulged bigger and bigger with sculpted muscle. “What do you think, tiny?” Ever seen one of us change like this before? “No,” I gasped. “Usually happens a lot faster.” “I know,” he said, smiling. “I’m drawing it out, taking my time, having some fun.” Fuck, they could do that? I didn’t know they could do that! Then, his dazzling arrogant smile getting almost as big as his arms, he dropped one giant bulging arm and carried on curling me with just the other one, enjoying the sight of his own biceps continuing to expand and bulge into huge and veiny, muscular sculptures. “When I was a kid, Hunters were, like, the fucking boogie man,” he said. “I was fucking terrified of you! But now… Without your fucking toy…!” He smirked down at me and then laughed. “What can you do but watch me become a god?” and as he spoke his voice got deeper and deeper, dropping at least an octave and it wasn’t hard to see why. His neck was getting wider and wider with thick, corded muscle. His larynx was expanding, his Adams apple enlarging. His straining collar finally blew apart as bulging, mountainous traps erupted out of his back and tore it to pieces. Then, striated boulder-like shoulders swelled up and blasted out the rest of his sleeves. The kid paused in his curls and looked down at his hugely muscled chest which had finally stretched his shirt to the limit. “Watch this,” he said, as giant juggernaut pecs swelled up and exploded out of his shirt front, shooting buttons everywhere. And yet somehow the garment remained intact around his remarkably narrow waist. He started flexing his huge pecs, making them bulge bigger and bigger, and holding me up with one of his gigantically muscled arms so I could see. And I couldn’t miss them, not even if I tried. He wouldn’t let me. He started curling me again and as his monstrous carved and shredded biceps brought me up with each curl, he rammed me into his fucking iron-hard chest, which got bigger, rounder and harder every fucking time. “Ops!” he said, “Sorry. Ops! Sorry. The pecs are getting so huge I just can ‘t help hitting them!” he laughed, putting me down on the ground. I looked up at him. Damn, that magnificent muscled out kid was almost 7 feet tall. “Feel this!” he said taking my hand and placing it on one of the warm, pulsing, striated boulder-like pecs. It was stone hard. “Go ahead show me how you’re gonna beat me with your head! Sounds like a match to me, your head against my pecs! It’s about the same size as one of ’em,” he snorted derisively. Then suddenly he shoved my hand in between his two boulder like pecs and squeezed. “AHHH!” It was like a vice! Then laughing, he started getting taller again. I had to stretch my arm higher and higher as he rose up and up, my hand inescapably clamped between those two steely orbs! I tried and tried to pull lose, but it was no use. And suddenly I was lifted off the ground and found myself dangling from his monstrous, shredded pecs. “Well, what are you gonna do now, Hunter?” He laughed. “Nothing you can do, is there? I’ve already beat you with my pecs, just my pecs! What are you gonna do about the rest of me? What are you gonna do when I’m twice this fucking big? He squeezed his pecs a little harder and I thought my hand would break. “AHHH! You better stop this right now,” I gasped. “I better…? Oh wait, I was forgetting; Hulks are scared of you! That must be why my stomach feels so funny, ’cause I’m so scared of you. Hahaha! Whoa, somethings definitely happening to my stomach!” From my position, hanging beneath his massive chest, I suddenly saw big chiseled abs explode out of his waist. The big impressive muscles pressed against the lower shirt front for just a second before they blew the last remnant of the garment apart, shredding it to pieces and releasing the powerful brick wall of muscle which continued to throb and bulge and expand. “Ah, that was it!” he said with an exaggerated tone of discovery. “It was just more fucking muscle!” He relaxed his pecs and I dropped to the ground. The kid leaned over and shoved his brick wall stomach right in my face. “Like my abs, Hunter? They’re hard like diamonds, like diamonds. I had a car hit me in the abs when I was 12, just 12. I totaled it. Ever total a car with just your abs, Hunter. Know what that feels like? Hey, about another contest, you against my abs? Yeah, you’re right. Eight abs against one Hunter, that wouldn’t really be fair. Ops,” he said as 2 more dense, carved muscle bricks exploded out of his mid-section, “make that 10 against 1.” He laughed again, stood up and wiped the last shreds of his destroyed mini mart shirt from his titanic, muscled frame. “Ah, that’s better! Fucking tiny, cheesy shirts! I hate em! And I also HATE CHEESY PANTS!” He bellowed as he blasted his pant legs into shreds with his behemoth hams and quads in all their veiny, chiseled, ripped-up glory. “Fuck! I hated being small,” he thundered. “I don’t know how you fucking stand it all the fucking time!” He raised his arm and blasted out a colossal bicep flex. “Fuck that feels good! Muscles feel so fucking good! Gonna have to take my word on that, Hunter, ‘cause there’s no way you’d fucking know.” Damn, those things had to be a massive sculpted 40 inches… and they were still pulsing, throbbing and growing… “Gonna, get bigger now, Ma, right?” he called across the room. “Gonna show the little man just how big I can get!” Then he grabbed me. I felt his hand on my arm like a padded steel pincer. I tried to break away, but forget it. He was already so inhumanly strong he could’ve broken me into pieces without even thinking about it. “I bet you’re sorry you fucked with us now,” he said, grinning that boyishly beautiful cocky grin. “Let me go,” I said. “Let you go?” he repeated mockingly. “But I want you to have a front row seat!” Then he swung me up and dropped me on his flexed bicep. Damn I was straddling this massive kid’s gigantic carved mountain of a bicep. It was hard and warm and he didn’t even seem to notice my weight. “Try squeezing it with your legs, Hunter. Go on! TRY IT!” The force of his voice almost knocked me off my perch. Left without a choice I squeezed it between my legs. It was like squeezing granite. “Give it up, Hunter,” he laughed. “You’ll shatter your puny little legs before you dent one of my massive biceps! Ready for a ride?” He grinned down at me once again and suddenly threw back his head and let out an almighty roar! His body began exploding with muscle. Fuck. I mean I’d seen hulk-outs before – plenty of ’em. But nothing like this… Veiny, carved muscle just kept erupting up out of this kid, as he roared with ecstasy, growing bigger and more sculpted and vascular-- all over. And beneath me his bicep kept surging and pulsing huger and thicker and harder, making it difficult for me to straddle. And as the roar died, he started flexing again and again and laughing as his mountain of a bicep tossed me in the air again and again like a mechanical horse at a western bar – except I’m sure the horse would have been softer to land on. Fuck his arm was impossibly gigantic, carved iron! I would have been thrown off, if I hadn’t grabbed on to the firehose sized vein that was snaking over his stony bicep peak. “Watch the little Hunter bounce,” he laughed the behemoth sculpted muscle boy, his massive abs bulging and heaving. “Can you hold on, little tiny Hunter? Can you hold on through this?” And suddenly he threw back his head and roared again as monstrous traps rose out of his broadening back and his chest grew from concreate melons to basketballs to fucking medicine balls. His chiseled abs bulged up to the size of my fist, then doubled in size and doubled again. I saw his shredded pants completely fall apart, destroyed by ridiculously huge, carved hamstrings, quads and glutes. He was wearing something under there resembling black boxer briefs. I don’t know what it was made of but it sure as hell stretched. And as all these muscles erupted out of him, he was shooting upwards, getting taller and taller, while all the time his massive stony bicep stretched and thickened and grew until I couldn’t hold on any longer and just flew off. I hit the ground and looked up at the monstrously muscled, baby faced beast. “Haha, little Hunter,” he called down to me. “You said I could join you when I grew up. Am I grown up enough now? Or maybe I should grow a little MORE!” He howled with rumbling, mocking laughter as his lats broadened and his entire torso widened like the hood of some massive mutant cobra. He laughed again and flexed as his biceps bulged up even more inconceivably massive and his shoulders swelled into colossal, striated orbs. His pecs evolved into beyond monstrous iron-like masses. And still up he grew. “Am I grown up enough yet?” he bellowed down at me. “No? Okay, just for you I’ll get BIGGER!” Taller and taller and wider and thicker, he got. And as he regarded his impossibly massive, insanely beautiful and tyrannically powerful physique, his laugher changed back into a bellowing ROAR! The power in this kid’s body was inconceivable. His muscles size and definition defied description. He flexed every muscle in his impossibly colossal physique at once. I couldn’t imagine what the physical sensation of that much power must be like. I’d wager it would drive anyone insane! “I’M THE FUCKING MAN!!!!” he bellowed, shaking the building as he gloated over his carved up, veiny, mountainous biceps! “THE BIGGEST FUCKING HULK THAT EVER EXISTED! AND YOU’RE A HELPLESS LITTLE ANT I WANNA STEP ON!” I stared up at this beast, who absolutely topped 12 feet and who had biggest, thickest, most ripped-up, impossibly muscular physique I had ever seen. The kid had become a titan of unstoppable massive, heaving power, and I didn’t know how I, or any other Hunter (or any army for that matter), would ever be able to stop him. I’d finally found my Uber Hulk. But I’d fucked up and he’d found me first… But how was that even possible? He hadn’t been at The Event. He was too young! “Look, ma,” he bellowed in an impossible base. “Look how big I got this time! Bet I could crack the world open with one fucking punch!” The kid flexed and posed his outrageously massively muscled body. “Wanna see me try?” Fuck, the kid’s thunderous voice, alone, was almost shaking the building to pieces! I looked over at the poor terrified woman, tied up in her chair, just trembling. “You think that’s gonna make your mom proud?” I said. “Look at her. She’s terrified of you!” The kid laughed, a big thick rolling sound like a diesel engine just turning over. “You’re pretty stupid, aren’t you, puny man. Maybe it’s because you got no muscle to think with. That’s not my ma,” he said pointing at the terrified woman. “She’s just window dressing, bait for the trap.” The kid reached over and, with one giant finger, snapped the woman’s bonds. She lost no time in running for her life. The kid chuckled. “That’s my ma,” he said pointing to the other hulk. Holy crap! That thing was his mother? My head reeled. This had huge consequences! “But all the tests…,” I muttered, nearly incoherent with shock. “They proved it. You can’t have kids.” “Oh, it doesn’t work with a human,” said the mother-thing. “But with each other, when we’re hulked, that’s a different story.” Hulk sex? I could barely imagine what that must be like. The act would probably level a city block! What hadn’t anyone ever thought of that? Because these things didn’t associate with each other, hardly ever! I suddenly looked over at the sheriff. “You mean…?” “Yup,” bellowed the impossibly massive muscle kid. “Meet my Pa, the free spirit.” Holy crap, a whole freaking family of hulks. “You’re a family?” “We are,” said the mother-thing. “’Course it wasn’t easy. Raising a family was such a challenge. When I first pushed him out, he was so puny and pink and weak. Poor thing was so fragile when he was a kid. Kept thinking I was gonna break him. He didn’t start hulking til he hit puberty, and now… well, look at him! He’s way bigger than either of us!” I could see her set of enormous, shredded pectorals swell with pride. And I think the beyond massive muscle kid was blushing. His green turned a little greener. “Of course it wasn’t until high school, that we discovered his special gift. He was fooling around with one of his little classmates, as boys do, you know, being boys, when… Oh now wait a minute. I’ve almost gone and spoiled the surprise.” Surprise? Not another one. “Can I play with him first?” asked the young muscled nuclear powerhouse. He leered evilly in my direction and advanced toward me. Crap, this kid was so big I could feel the gravitational pull off his bulging, vein-covered left quad, alone. “I wanna play with him some more!” “Haven’t you had enough fun already, Ollie,” the mother-thing said. “But look what he did to Pa!” Ollie protested. The Sheriff staggered around and looked up at his mountainous, chiseled, muscle son, and said “Don’t eat any green bananas!” “See Ma, he’s gone all funny!” Suddenly his deep tone turned from maliciously playful to threatening. “And I sure hope for your sake that’s not permanent!” Suddenly, a light at the end of the tunnel. I might get out of this yet. I had a bargaining chip. “I could help him,” I said. “There is an antidote. But you gotta release me to go get it.” The impossibly huge, carved, veiny, young juggernaut looked uncertain. He turned to his mother. “Ma?” “Hell no, Son,” she said. “I think it’s time to show him your gift.” “YEAH!” thundered the gigantic, colossally muscled boy-thing. “Check this out, Puny Hunter!” And he reached down and ripped those boxer briefs free from his massively muscled groin. Out tumbled the biggest broadest cock that could possibly exist. The thing was at least 3 feet long and hanging low across a set of melon sized balls. “Whadaya say, Hunter? Still think I ain’t got the balls? Haha. Just one of my balls is fucking bigger than your entire puny little head!” As soon as it was free, his cock instantly started to fill with blood. The kid got a kind of hungry leer on his face as he watched his giant veiny shaft swell bigger and thicker and longer, oddly echoing his own recent transformation. When it was done, the kid had what looked like a 5 foot long, 4 foot around massive green battering ram extending from his groin. His lips parted slightly and his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned, “Oh man, you have no idea what it feels like to have a gamma cock. Think how much more power my arm has than your puny little twig, then apply that to a cock—the sensation, so dope.” So this was the kid’s gift? I had to admit it was one hell of a gift, but I didn’t quite get the relevancy. “Now, son, do it now,” said the mother thing. The kid’s eyes snapped open and he grinned down at me. Oh shit, I began to guess what was coming next. My eyes instinctively sought out the exits, but I knew I’d never reach one in time. Fuck it, I tried anyway. But like I predicted I didn’t get two steps before the humongously built, ridiculously hung and impossibly muscled youth snatched me up in one of his power shovel hands. I knew I was fucked—literally. I struggled, but all I could offer was a token resistance. Fuck, this kid’s forearm was wider around than my entire body. I could see muscles and tendons bulging and flexing inside it that were bigger around than my legs. “How does it feel, hunter?” gloated the impossibly massive and muscular boy. “How does it feel for you to be so small and weak, like a sniveling little bitch, to be completely helpless and hopeless, like you left my poor Pa?” He squeezed a little and I felt like my bones might shatter. “I could crush you right now, puny man,” he said, “easier than squashing a bug would be for you. I can’t believe I was scared of you, afraid you’d take my ma away. I can’t believe my whole life we’ve been running from puny little Hunters like you!” He squeezed again. More pain. “Feel how strong I am? Know how much power I have? I’ll give you a hint. If I let loose and squeezed as hard as I could, you’d be completely pulverized, crushed into atoms, gone forever without a trace! And I can do it anytime I want.” I nodded rapidly. “If only I’d known, when I was a kid, just a scared little kid running from Hunters… If only I’d known this was waiting for me.” and then he flexed one of those planetoid biceps of his and swung me around to get a close look at the sculpted, veiny, mountainous mass. “I know now,” he grinned. Then with one stroke, he ripped off my pants. Fuck that hurt. I remember thinking I was lucky my belt snapped before my back broke. But there I was, naked from the waist down and clamped inside this beyond massively muscular kid’s giant paw. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he sneered. “All fucking night I’ve been waiting for this. Ever since I first saw your puny ass walk into the minimart, I knew this moment would come. All night I’ve been listening to you hate on me, hate on the hulks… I wanted to muscle explode and stomp your ass so many times… But I held back. We had to know how you did it. But, I knew this time would come… when I would be all enormous, veiny, and iron-hard, and your puny little ass would be my helpless little toy. I knew it would come and now it’s FUCKING HERE!” And then suddenly he took that battering ram of his and rammed it up my butt! “AHHHHHH! FUCK!” I yelled! It was iron-hard! So much pain! It felt like my pelvis would split in two! The he started pumping. FUCK! This kid was gonna rip me apart! He was gonna rip me apart on his massive iron cock! That was his revenge! Who’d have guessed that’s how I’d go out, fucked to death by a hormone ravaged, teenaged hulk? And then something began to build in the atmosphere. Even through my agony I felt it, a kind of vibration, a thrum… It kept building and building, permeating everything around. It was the kid. Somehow I knew it was emanating from the kid and his monster cock. And as it got more and more intense, rattling the very air, his heavy breathing took on a kind of carnal snarl. The vibration was now world splitting. His growls grew in intensity until I thought the deep rumble would explode my eardrums. Then every muscle on that impossible mountainous body tensed, massive arms bulged, veins popped, pec striations deepened, brick-like abs clamped together and with a universe shattering bellow he came like an erupting volcano! The building shook to its foundations. Windows shattered! Debris fell from the ceiling! There was a rumbling all around like an earthquake as I felt him coming inside me. It was like acid, like acid under an insane pressure, shooting up through my body, all through my body. I was burning inside! It seemed to go on forever. Then he popped me off his impossibly massive cock and let me tumble to the floor. I looked up through the haze of intense burning pain and saw his giant engorged cock head. The fucking size of it. It was wider around than me! I remember thinking, “I had that thing inside me? How am I alive?” And then I felt it. The burning was changing, not lessening, but changing. It was becoming more electric, more charged, like energy, like an insane burning energy! “Are you on fire yet, Hunter?” said the insanely mountainous muscle boy. “You’re sure squirming like you are.” “I’m burning!” I gasped. “Hey Ma, Pa, come here,” cried the kid. “This should be good!” His cock had deflated and he was now standing over me looking like kids usually look when their favorite TV show is about to start. And then I felt it. I’d like to say I was swelling, but it was more like I was exploding in slow motion. Muscles were surfacing and swelling, turning my ordinary limbs into throbbing landscapes of cords and tendons. I could feel my sleeves getting tight as my upper arms swelled into large, hard masses. And under my shirt, my pecs were pushing out of my chest, growing rounder, fuller, and harder. The burning sensation was getting stronger and stronger and I could feel my body getting harder and thicker from top to bottom. And yeah, I was getting taller. I felt myself stretching. Those bastards! They were making me into one of them! And then I felt my growing body surge inside a shirt that suddenly was way too tight. I could feel my iron-hard body pressing against it. The cloth was straining. Seams were stressing. I felt compelled to flex my arms and felt the sleeves get so tight, they would normally have cut off my circulation. But not now. And suddenly RIIIIIIIIP! I felt the sleeves explode as big veiny balls of rock hard muscle just erupted out of them. Now I felt two boulders pushing their way out of my chest. I watched the front of my shirt stretch out as I felt my pecs grow inside it like expanding globes of steel, pulling it tighter and stretching it to the limit. Fuck, the problem was, this didn’t feel bad, not bad at all. In fact, I kinda liked it… I flexed my new huge iron-like chest, and enjoyed the feeling of it bullying the flimsy cloth, pushing the front open, making those buttons hold on for dear life. Then POP! One of the buttons exploded off. POP! POP! POP! The rest of the upper buttons flew off and my shirt peeled back revealing those two expanding, striated globes of muscle thrusting out from beneath. I rubbed my hand over my giant pecs. They felt like iron, like fucking iron. Fuck! I was really starting to enjoy this! I ripped open the rest of my shirt, sending buttons flying and revealing my stomach. At first it was as svelte as always; but then I felt it, steely lumps forming under the skin as the outline of a six pack started to appear. Man I could feel the muscles just growing bigger and harder until I actually had abs. I passed my hand over them. They felt hard and solid. But it didn’t stop there; they kept getting larger, pushing out, and bulking up, like huge swellling rocks. In seconds my stomach had solidified into a wall of powerful, iron abdominals. Why did I like this so much? And then I felt my back grow wider and thicker, and stretch the hell out of my shirt. Threads began popping and cloth began tearing as I felt great, thick lats erupt from my body. “Oh fuck!” I cried. Seconds later I felt my shirt rip open releasing my thickening muscular back, “DAMN!” I yelled and huge globular shoulder muscles exploded from my body and tore out of the sleeves. “FUUUUUK!” I cried as my expanding muscled torso continued to rip my shirt into shreds and reduce it to pathetic rags which slid off my heaving, throbbing, swelling iron-like bulging muscles and fell into a heap on the ground. And suddenly I was dizzy again. I could feel myself stretching. Legs, arms, everything was getting longer, and the big warehouse seemed to be getting smaller, closing in on me. I stood up. Fuck, I was way over seven feet tall now. The sheriff was now looking up at me past my huge shredded pecs—He looked so tiny, but that was because… I was fucking gigantic! “Oh my fucking God!” I shouted and flexed. My upper arms swelled into gigantic twin granite peaks. The shoulders above them were the size of cannonballs. My forearms were great wedges of muscle leading up to my thick heavy fists. Ahhhhh….AHHHHHHHHH! FUCK!” I yelled and exploded upward, my mammoth muscles expanding in proportion, making my newly monstrous frame unbelievably massive. “SO FUCKING BIG!” I shouted as my shoulders stretched out further and further as grew into huge balls of rock hard flesh. Colossal traps rose up and merged with my thickening neck and I could feel my back getting thicker and wider behind me. And God, I had to be more than eight feet tall! My pants tore up the sides, releasing two Goliath-like thighs which were bulging out to an amazing size. In a moment those huge muscles, writhing and swelling under my skin, shredded my pants to bits, leaving me naked. I felt my cock begin to respond to the change, to the all-pervading feeling of impossible physical power that was racing through every inch of me. And as it started to swell and throb, I couldn’t believe the sensation! The kid had been right! My old cock had been but a pale reflection of the giant gamma shaft I now had exploding from my groin. How had I lived my whole life without this fucking feeling?! It was fucking glorious! I flexed my gigantic arms and let out a roar. I felt like the embodiment of male physical perfection! But I wasn’t done yet! I flexed my already massive arms and watched them bulge up into veiny peeked mountains and then grow even larger. My shoulders continued to stretch outward, further and further, exploding into incredible globes of an unbelievable size that could only compare to my titanic pecs. My back pushed out further, causing my entire upper body to grow wider and wider as I continued to grow taller and taller. I was just fucking mountainous now. I looked down at the sheriff now, way, way down. He was like a toddler, lost in the shadow of my massive, expanding form. And then it was over. I pulled a most muscular and every one of my incredibly large, incredibly powerful muscles bulged out all over me. It was a feeling not to be believed. I let out a roar and my gamma shaft exploded. The force of the inconceivable orgasmic sensation almost knocked me on my gigantic bubble butt! For a second I got completely lost in how huge, and impossibly muscular and powerful I felt. I had to be somewhere near 10 feet tall, weighing a couple of tons. The fucking size of me… I was a fucking monster… and I loved it! I looked over at the magnificent kid. He still towered two feet above me and his muscles… well, fuck, he must weigh at least twice what I did! But the mother, she wasn’t more than 8 feet tall and actually looked kind of small, even dainty, to me now. “See, dear,” she said to the kid. “He’s one of us now. Try asking him about your Pa again.” I looked back down at my monstrously muscled body, and the consequences of what had just happened began to sink in. I was a hulk now, a pretty damn big one, massively muscular and powerful beyond imagining, and it felt good, real good. I reached over and grabbed the Buick the kid’s Ma had been using for shoulder presses and easily lifted it up over my head with one massive, bulging, veiny arm. It was so light, so easy. I was so fucking powerful now. I laughed with exultation. I couldn’t help it. I don’t know if it was the thrill of lifting the car or how amazing all those massive iron-like muscles felt bulging out of my body. But I was a Hunter, had been for 20 years; what did I do now? The phrase, absolutely any fucking thing I wanted, came to mind. It was ironic, I thought, looking down at my massively muscular and veiny arms, I’d been a Hunter for 20 years, and now that I finally had the tools to do my job properly, I was no longer qualified to do it. And to top it off, I had information that would revolutionize the Hunter profession. Hulks could mate with other hulks and they had Uber Hulk kids, and their Uber Hulk kids – at least the boys – could make other hulks. I could just imagine the uproar. But none of that mattered now. As soon as they discovered what I’d become, I’d be tranked and sent to live in the camp, just like all the other hulks. No way, no fucking way! “Your Pa’s gonna be fine,” I said, marveling at the deep timber of my voice. “That shit wares off. He’ll be dizzy and confused for a couple of days, but then he’ll get over it and be like he was. He’d need to be constantly dosed to keep him from changing permanently.” Both the kid and the mother looked relieved, but the Sheriff just looked up and said, “Is it Tuesday? I thought it was Tuesday.” And now I felt a burning energy and an impossible strength. I just had to know what this massively muscular behemoth body could do. I reasoned that the town had already been largely demolished before I’d even gotten there. What harm could it do to crush or throw a couple of previously wrecked cars around? Actually, I thought, feeling my massively powerful arms flex, I wouldn’t mind finding an oppressing army to lay low either. But, you know, one step at a time. “Hey,” I said to the kid. “You down for a game of Toyota Toss?”
  9. 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?”
  10. Many thanks to the admins who approved of me posting this story. I dedicate this to you! ~SW THE DILDO OF THE DEMIGODS My heart was beating so hard I wondered if it was going to shatter my ribcage, not that that would matter if I succeeded tonight. So the rumours were true – all of them – but the singular fact that Jarrett Nicklinson hadn't yet abused the awesome power of the artefact spoke wonders about his naivety. To his credit though, the once scrawny captain of the chess club was now a broad-shouldered, musclebound hulk of a man who literally benched trees for fun, but to think he could have done so much more and chose not to! Shrouded in the dark of night, I pulled over in the school's parking lot and hurried up the stairs that led to the hidden, faculty-only entrance. To think Nicklinson would keep the relic in the locker room, of all places, the very thought threatened to blow my mind but still I forced myself to remain calm. First things first, I stopped by the vice-principal's office, kicked down the door, and grabbed the crowbar he had confiscated the other day. I was going to need it, not because I expected anyone to stop me, but because I wasn't going to waste any more time trying to do this quietly. In all my years as a gym teacher, nothing was going to come close to what I was about to accomplish! Nothing! The stink of musk and sweat hung in the air as I barrelled into the locker rooms and made my way to locker 969A. This close, I could almost feel the power emanating from the artefact, and so I rammed the crowbar into the lock and all but wrenched the door off its hinges. As if acknowledging its new master, the relic unleashed a blinding burst of golden light, cleansing the air of stink and causing my heart to flutter. There, sitting inside Nicklinson's locker was the legendary Dildo of the Demigods – a legendary artefact from ages past said to grant the wishes of anyone who could take it up their wanting rumps. Despite the urgency of the present situation, I couldn't stop myself from pausing to appreciate the magnificently sculptured, gleaming-gold phallus before me. To describe the Dildo as colossal would have been the understatement of the year. Fully two feet in length and thicker than my forearm, it was small wonder how Nicklinson managed to take this in with his build and his alleged lack of experience. Not that I would have such a problem of course, for twenty years of selling my ass on the side had prepared me plenty! And so I grabbed the enormous Dildo and sprinted back to my ground floor office, locking the door behind me and kicking my chair away so I could place the relic behind my desk. It was still dark and quiet; the only illumination in my office came from the parking lot just outside and the slightly glowing Dildo. There was enough light for me to regard my reflection in the mirror, and I couldn't help but smirk at the forty-something gym teacher staring back at me. I still looked good for my age – I had retained my huge quads and thick arms and broad shoulders – but my belly had gone soft, my pecs had started to droop, and my hair had started receding fast. With the Dildo of the Demigods right there before me though, it almost felt as though I was young again. Why, my cock had grown so swollen with blood at the prospect of taking this thing up my ass it was actually starting to hurt. Sure enough, when I all but tore my trousers off I saw a cock so engorged with blood that it had turned a deep shade of red. At six inches solid, it was a respectable if not average size... for the moment. The Dildo of the Demigods seemed to gleam as I eased myself against it, almost purring with delight as the unnaturally slick surface kissed the rim of my hole. I would not need any lubricant for this, so I began breathing deeply, enriching my limbs with oxygen as I coaxed myself to relax. All those years getting my ass pounded was beginning to pay off, for I was soon tugging my chute further and further apart, stretching the sensitive flesh and wrapping the bulbous mushroom head as much as I could. "J-Just... a little... more...!" I breathed, grasping at my nipples through my polo as I wiggled my way down the monstrous phallus. With a soft pop, the cockhead of the Dildo plunged into my hungry hole, so smooth was its surface that I sunk four whole inches of it into my ass. "WOOAAHHH!" I wailed, loudly and shamelessly, my cock firing off a thick rope of cum as the Dildo punched me in the prostate. There was another blinding flash from beneath me, and the Dildo of the Demigods made its connection with the core of my being. As untold power surged through my prostate and burst through my quivering hips, I felt my consciousness expanding, reaching out until I was acutely aware of every cell in my being. I breathed, slowly and deeply, and made my first wish. At the other side of town, Jarrett Nicklinson found his muscles deflating like popped balloons, punishment for all the damage he had caused once he turned into a gigantically muscular, yet cocky and violent sonofabitch. Once satisfied, I shifted my attention to the destruction he had wrought. I regrew all the trees he had ripped from their roots, repaired the equipment he had broken, before finally mending the bodies of the jocks he had put into hospitals. Tomorrow, some semblance of normality would return to the school. No more fallen trees, no more broken bones, and no more government agents swarming the campus with strange machines, hopefully. I did feel a little bad for Nicklinson, having lost those amazing muscles and all, but he did beat a hundred high schoolers half to death, so I suppose he had this coming. With the housekeeping done, I poised myself to satisfy some more... intimate needs. At my command, the street lamps outside ceased to be, bathing me in darkness save for the soft glow of my precious Dildo. With a wave of my hand and the snap of my fingers, my desk drifted off to the side and my office was bathed in warm lights only I could see. As I beheld myself in the mirror, still wedged on the monstrous Dildo and clad in nothing but a bright green polo, I couldn't help but smirk. So I parted my thick legs a little more, gasping as another inch of Dildo was stuffed into my ass, and made my second wish. It came slowly at first, but I felt it instantly – some kind of vitality surging through my veins from where the massive Dildo was splitting my ass apart, charging me with a youthful virility I had not felt in decades! I wanted to go for a sprint, or a workout, the last thing I wanted to do was sit here but I forced myself to remain. The pulsing was getting stronger now, every second of it feeling so frigging amazing I just wanted to spring up and whoop. Tight on cue, the clock began turning back on my body. All over my skin began prickling, tightening around my now firmer flesh as old blemishes began to fade. My eyesight came back so quickly I soon had crystal clear vision without the need for my glasses. Upon my crown, a great burst of crimson sprouted from where my hair had started to thin, my glorious new mane tumbling down the sides of my face and feathering down the back of my neck. Then, I chiselled myself a harder, manlier jawline before dusting on a grizzled coating of lush facial fuzz. The sensations that flooded me next were unbelievably intense, accentuated by my now youthful virility. My tingling muscles were growing so pumped, engorged with blood as though I had just put myself through a brutal workout. I drew in a deep breath and let myself moan as my body began expanding outward and upward. My polo tee felt it first, the soft cotton stretching and straining as my arms began bulking up. They had always been big, but now my biceps were growing into huge, rippling moulds that made my sleeves ride up to my shoulders, which were swelling into massive, cannonball deltoids! Aww fuck yeah this was good, this was very good. I brought my arms back and arched my back, shuddering as the Dildo's power poured into my chest and shoulders. Before me, my sizeable pecs began growing so huge and thick with mass that they pulled down the collar of my polo. I inhaled, flexing my shredded new muscles and marvelling at how tight my shirt had become. BANG! POP! The upper two buttons burst free of the polo! My pectorals were so big now, so big and strong and ripped that they pulled the material as far apart as it would go! Across my stomach, all the fat I had accumulated since varsity melted away, revealing the faint, cobblestone abdominals I knew were hidden beneath my shirt. The energy pooling in my gut began to roil, my entire body tensing and flexing as I grew myself the six... no, eight-pack of my dreams! Rock hard muscle began pushing out of my gut like chiselled ridges and deep valleys, showing through the shirt due to me keeping my waist narrow and taut. I gasped, suddenly realising I had been holding my breath all this while, before going right back to growing my muscles even more! My shoulders continued to expand, filling with mass as my biceps and triceps fought for their share. Beside me, the lats I had been neglecting for years began swelling with size, pushing my arms away from my body until almost thirty extra pounds of muscle bulged from my torso! Fuck! I looked like a frigging bodybuilder now, so huge and so ripped! I was built like a shithouse and eager for more! Directing my attention earthward, I began pumping up my awesome, gym coach quads, causing great slabs of rippling muscle to bulge from my thighs. They fused quickly into my quads, heaving and straining as they split into their individual muscle groups. I couldn't resist crushing my cock as the huge muscles surged past thirty inches around. If my cock was harder than a rock then my massive quads were even harder! Needless to say all this grinding resulted in hot a, if brief, eruption of seminal fluids that spilled into a puddle from between my heaving thighs. Willing my orgasm in check, I quickly spread my legs apart, wiggling my toes as my growth shot down my calves and into my feet. Bones began popping and snapping and suddenly I found my shoes uncomfortably tight and showing no signs of breaking. I wished them away, oohing as my bare feet stretched across the parquet until they were one size too big for anything I had at home. As my transformation slowed to a close, the sight in the mirror before me was positively orgasmic. I hadn't grown any taller, that was for sure, but I must have packed on fifty pounds of pure muscle! My shirt was comically small now, my chest and shoulders so heavily muscled that the soft cotton had ridden halfway up my waist, exposing the lower four of my glorious eight-pack. I grasped at my massive arms, arms with muscles so huge they were threatening to bust the sleeves of my shirt, knowing that they measured almost twenty inches around, all of it solid cords of iron that rippled and swelled with every flex. Fuck! How long had it been since I felt so alive, so big... so strong... so virile? I needed to free myself of this polo, to strip myself naked so I could bask in the glory of my musclebound new body. And so I planted my feet firmly on the ground and lifted myself off the Dildo of the Demigods, a gentle flash signalling the end of its connection with me as I reared to my full height. In the soft lights of my office, the sight of myself still stunned me. I was an inch from the mirror in a moment, running my hands across my new face and flexing my enormous, trembling muscles. And then I ripped off my polo, the cool air caressing my magnificently sculpted muscles as I ran my huge palms all over. So close... so close to the point of no return, that I was turning myself on and on was doing my swollen cock no favours. In a bid to distract myself, I strode over to the weighing scale, gasping when I realised I now weighted two hundred and twenty pounds, almost all of it muscle! My dick throbbed angrily between my legs, before gorging itself on so much blood it turned a deep shade of purple and began arching upward. I momentarily considered stroking myself off right there and then, blasting my seed all over the mirror in celebration of my massive, youthful new body. But then the Dildo of the Demigods caught my eye with a subtle shimmer, and I was instantly reminded of just how huge and monstrous Jarrett Nicklinson had gotten. That now-scrawny nerd was literally an entire head and shoulders (and half of his chest) taller than I was when he tore through the gym last week, to think I could be that big in a matter of moments! I bounded back to the Dildo and caressed its gleaming, golden surface. Just looking at it relaxed the sphincter muscles guarding my ass chute. Holy shit was I really going to do this? It had long dawned on me that, with but a simple wish, I could be a hundred times bigger than Nicklinson ad been, with colossal muscles the size of tanks exploding out of my body as I hulked up bigger and harder and stronger! The thought was drowning my cock in so much pleasure and I couldn't say I wasn't at least a little tempted. I considered my options. There was a good chance I would not be able to carry this massive phallus with me everywhere, which meant I would have to leave it unguarded when it wasn't pleasuring my hungry hole. Growing into a gigantically muscular bodybuilder-god wasn't a feasible idea either, judging by how quickly both the FBI and CIA had responded after hulk-Nicklinson began posting pictures of his new body to the internet. To top it all off, I was keenly aware that the legends surrounding the Dildo were slightly exaggerated. Its power was incredible beyond measure, that much was certain, but even this power had limiters it could not circumvent. Nicklinson could not wish himself to godhood (although he definitely would pass for one), and he could not scrub clean the memories of those who had witnessed him using the Dildo. Which pretty much meant everybody come to think, he had been posting tons of videos as of late. I was still contemplating the next course of action when the Dildo shimmered softly, as if in warning. Sure enough, when I turned to glance out my window I spotted the headlights of a car careening down the road to the high school. No time to waste! This time, I had a much easier time plunging myself onto the gargantuan Dildo. So pleasurable was the feeling of it pounding into my prostate that it put stars in my vision and made my cock spit out another wad of thick cum. Somehow, I managed to make my wish, the Dildo casting my mind out so I could better regard my unwanted visitor. Sure enough, it was Nicklinson – the meek and scrawny version of him – furious and out for blood. Hot on his tail was a small army of cars, mostly coppers with one or two FBI or CIA vehicles trailing behind them. If any of them so much as spotted my car I would be royally screwed! Without skipping a beat, I wished my humble wheels home just as Nicklinson came speeding into the parking lot. He didn't even bother waiting for his car to stop, all but tumbling out and scampering up the stairs to the front door. That suited me just fine, more time to begin undoing the very slight damage I had- Oh wait, looks like someone forgot to lock the front doors again. Quickly as I could, I put the door back on Nicklinson's locker and returned the crowbar to the vice-principal's office. The Dildo's former owner was charging through the corridors so fast now I only just managed to wish the VP's office door back in time. It seems the police and the FBI had split into teams as well, each one pouring through different routes of the school. They had left their CIA buddies back at the parking lot, although judging by the way those two were just standing about I figured they had decided to sit this one out. Beneath me, the Dildo gave me another cautious shimmer. The police had taken a detour and were now stumbling through the sports wing, where my office was. I breathed in deeply, drinking in the dangerous thrill of discovery. I double checked that my door was locked and that my lights were off, before shifting my mind to the intruders. Oh... Oh wow some of these guys were stacked! No wonder they moved so much slower than their FBI counterparts. All my life I had been such a sucker for muscle and today was no different, magic Dildo or not, and just watching those heavy pecs bounce and flex as those big boys sprinted... damned! I couldn't help myself now, having peeled away their clothing with my mind's eye, even as they came dangerously close to uncovering me. One simple wish couldn't, wouldn't hurt. The throbbing in my cock intensified and I gritted my teeth as liquid testosterone was pumped into my swollen member, causing the sensitive flesh to stretch and thicken and grow. "Oooh yeees!" I whispered, pinching my nipples as I pushed out an additional inch of cock from my muscled crotch. It was time to get big, real big! My mind's eye continued to follow the larger, more muscled members of the police, my tongue rolling out from between my lips as I imagined myself crushing those hard, firm butts. Those asses almost demanded the biggest and juiciest of cocks, so I began growing my erection even further. I moaned out loud this time, blatantly and indiscreetly as huge veins pulsed across my fat, bloated cock. They were feeding my cock with hot growth juice, more and more flesh building at the base until another inch of dick surged from my crotch. Fuck! Eight inches of man throbbed and pulsed in the air before me, angry and red and hotter than sin. Could I use another inch of cock? Damn right I could! I thickened my dick and commanded my hardest muscle to grow another inch! "Aaaaahhhhhh!" I cried, my hips bucking and causing me to sink even more onto the Dildo. The sensations of cock growth were orgasmic! It was almost as if I was having another orgasm right there and then! That my trembling body craved so much more mass up my ass only served to pleasure me further! Nine inches of cock, I had a nine inch tool drooling cum onto my floor! By the gods I almost felt like storming out of my office and tackling down one of those buff-ass studs trying to capture Nicklinson. Thankfully, I had sufficient clarity of mind to know that would be a terrible idea. In an attempt to distract myself, I turned my attention away to where Nicklinson had just tumbled into the locker rooms. With the police and the FBI so close, it was no wonder he moved much faster than he ever did in my classes, but he was still going to find a locker bereft of the Dildo. Unless... With a grim smirk, I wished into being a perfect replica of the Dildo and placed it into his locker. This one lacked the life charging magic currently surging through my prostate, but would nonetheless serve as both a deserving punishment and a perfect distraction. Nicklinson reached his locker with a triumphant shout. Almost immediately he hauled the thing out and dropped his pants, revealing his bony legs, bonier ass, and a member that was undoubtedly the primary reason people picked on him in the showers. "Freeze!" shouted the first FBI agent to see him, brandishing his firearm. Uh-oh, that wasn't good. I quickly wished for every gun on campus to jam the moment their triggers were pulled. "You'll never take me alive, coppers!" Nicklinson squealed as he hopped onto the Dildo threateningly, "I'm gonna break you all just like I did to the rest of those freaks!" The police showed up next, squeezing into the opening at the other end of the row. "Get off that uh... dildo... Nicklinson!" yelled one of the policemen, who waved batons as opposed to guns, "Let's talk this out like men!" "The only talking man tonight's gonna be me!" Nicklinson declared, before plunging himself down on the false-Dildo, "AaaaaAAAAHHHHHHH!" "Fuck that shit!" yelled an FBI agent standing in the back, "Waste him!" "My gun's jamming chief!" was the reply, "I can't get it open!" "Mine too!" voiced another. Nicklinson was beside himself. "Yes, YES!" he screamed, almost convulsing on the pseudo-Dildo, "I CAN FEEL THE POWER OF THE GODS SURGING THROUGH MY VEINS!" "Someone do something!" yelled the FBI chief. The police were the first to move, barrelling down the corridor like a living wall of muscle. Nicklinson wasn't even slightly shaken, for he immediately yelled again. "YES, YES COME AT ME!" he roared, raising his flimsy arms, "HERE ME BODY, GROW ONE THOUSAND POUNDS OF MUSCLE! RIGHT! NOW!" Needless to say I had to spend the next few minutes subtly repairing the damage Nicklinson's ribs had sustained, not too much and not too little, but enough such that he wouldn't go into shock while waiting for medical care. The FBI had wasted no time reporting their success to whoever they reported to, even as the policemen bundled Nicklinson up in some kind of straitjacket and hauled him from the locker room. "I don't understand!" wailed Nicklinson from inside the police van, "I was worthy! I AM worthy! I even felt the power! Why didn't I grow?! This isn't fair! THIS ISN'T FAIR!" As the police drove off with Nicklinson, I returned my attention to the locker rooms, where the remaining FBI agents were nervously trying secure the Dildo without, as I imagined, being tempted by its incredible power. Phew, crisis averted. If I had pulled this off right the government would think the Dildo to be in the possession of the FBI and not with Nicklinson's dashing, hard-bodied gym coach. I continued following the FBI as they cradled the Dildo out to where a large armoured truck had arrived. Just about every vehicle outside belonged to the FBI now, and there was even a helicopter puttering about. For some reason, I couldn't find the two CIA fellows or the little car they had arrived in. They must have gotten chased off by the FBI, rivalries and all that. Not that it mattered to me. My work here was done, and I still had all night to play with my new toy! Smirking, I wished myself home and mused as my office melted away to reveal the soft brown tones of my apartment. It wasn't a very large one since I lived alone – one bedroom, one bath, and one living room with an attached kitchen – but it did occur to me that with the Dildo I could soon be living in a palace worthy of kings! What fantasies I might have had about my accommodations were quickly superseded by the glistening Dildo skewering my ass. All alone in the privacy of my apartment, where the deepest and darkest of my fantasies had borne many fruit, it wasn't long before my mind was running and running wild! How many times have I wondered what life would be like if I were a colossal muscle-beast? To have muscles that constantly exploded with more size, more mass? I was breathing hard now, my deep breaths made all the stronger by the huge muscles brimming from my new body. Fuck this was too hot, too sexy! I needed to cool off before I made a wish I was going to regret! Detaching myself from the Dildo, I left my toy in the living room and sauntered over to the showers. Even with the water set to freezing I felt my loins burning with a fire that would not ease. Oh to hell with discipline! I shut the shower off and threw myself onto the john, grasping my monster dong with one hand and pinching a sensitive teat with the other. I was shooting in seconds, loud moans and louder gasping filling the air as I rocked my bod with one orgasm after another. It almost felt as though I was in the throes of puberty again, only this time my very muscles were turning me on endlessly and my huge fucking cock burned with a need I could not satisfy. Over and over again did I cum and cum, until suddenly it dawned on me just what was keeping me from my much needed satisfaction. My cock still spurting cum, I stomped out of my bathroom, my face twisting with glee at the gigantic sex toy sitting innocently in the middle of my living room. With my new strength, I hefted the Dildo up with one arm and made for my bedroom, not caring that I was somehow still wet and drippling water everywhere. Just as I left it, my cosy bedroom comprised a single queen-sized bed and a small desk for my computer. After shuttering the windows, I plopped myself onto the bed and readied the dildo before my hungry hole. I was alone here, fuck discipline! And then I slammed my ass down. "OoooooOOHHHH YEEAAAH!" I roared! I came, I came harder than ever as the Dildo crushed my prostate flat and plunged deeper than it had ever gone. My dick, oh god my huge fucking dick, it was spitting juice like crazy and I haven't even made my wish yet! Not wanting these waves of euphoria to end, I wished for my Dildo to fuck me, to thrust through my ass as I moaned and convulsed. And it did so, slowly yet steadily, the huge fucking girth splitting my ass wide open as it ploughed through my cheeks and pulled out for another go. I must have laid there for hours, squealing like a pig in heat – a big strong bodybuilding stud and his enormous golden sex toy. To say I was delirious would have been putting it lightly, but even in my delirium I could feel my dark fantasies growing stronger by the minute. My mind was filling with visions of size, of having colossal muscles that would not, could not stop growing and bursting and bulging out from all over my monstrous, heaving body. I bore witness to myself hulking out of my skin, a gargantuan god of brawn whose ludicrously huge muscles bust through his clothes on a regular basis. "Aww... Fuck... YEEEAAAHH!" I bellowed, after the Dildo pumped out what must have been my tenth orgasm that night, "Grow me... Grow me! Into... grow me into... into a must... into a MUSCLE GOD!" A suddenly stillness consumed the Dildo, and then... "WOOOAAARRRGHHHH!" I screamed, convulsing on my bed as a tremendous explosion of raw power surged through the Dildo, EXPLODING into my prostate before rocketing across my thrashing, sweating form. It was like an adrenaline rush only a thousand times more intense. I could feel it in my arms, my legs, every muscle in my body was brimming with pure strength. It was filling me to bursting and overwhelming my senses, but it was so frigging amazing, so frigging intoxicating I just cast myself back as the sensations consumed me. And then I was heaving, bulging, pulsing, my body trashing against the bed as the incredible physical power of my muscles magnified tenfold. My massive, rock hard muscles, already pumped the limit, rapidly expanded as the Dildo slammed into my ass with a force of a thousand men. "RRAAARRGHHH!" I boomed, my voice low and guttural. My monstrous arms were erupting all over, herculean boulders of shredded muscle bursting out as though muscle bombs were going off under my skin. They were going so huge, so long, so much rippling mass exploding from my bones my fucking biceps had biceps! Aww fuck yeah grow me big, grow me hard! My triceps were swelling past the thickness of car tires, my arms were bulging out with mountains that split into frightening peaks, my giant hands were huge enough to crush my own head, fuck! I drew in several monster breaths, growling as huge cords of muscle surged through my shoulders like iron cables, causing them to explode with size and surge across the surface of my bed. The Dildo was pumping me full of molten muscle mass, bulking my shoulders up until my delts swelled to the size of beach balls – hulking, massive, muscular beach balls. Oh god yes, give me more, MORE! Gargantuan muscles blew out from my traps, devouring a neck that was thickening to the girth of a pillar! My chest, fucking hell my pecs were huge and flexing and growing! Ggrrr! RRRGGHH!! Swell! Bulge! Grow! My pecs were fucking mountains now, twin peaks of swelling, heaving brawn. I had gotten so muscular that my nipples were forced to point down! Holy shit even my nipples were growing muscular! They were thickening, hardening, lengthening as the pulsed with my power and quivered with need. No! There is only one need! I needed to grow! To get bigger, stronger, HARDER! "MOOORRE!" Great big wings of pure power exploded from either side of me, my fucking lats growing so thick and so heavy with muscle they dared to force my hulking arms away from this glorious body. I commanded the Dildo to fuck me harder, to pump me with even more muscle! There must be more muscle, more size, more power! Huge slabs of muscle began bugling out of my back, growing my body thicker, wider. They were fusing into my lats, reaching down to where my narrow waist heaved with incredible power. My abs were bulging up like slabs of prime meat, punching their way out of my gut and morphing into titanium bricks that gleamed and glistened with my sweat. As the rest of my torso stretched up and out, incredible amounts of sinew streaked around my lower back, retaining my pillar-like waist and giving my body the legendary Y-shape I so craved. "LEGS!" I thundered, 'HUGE, FUCKING LEGS!" Gigantically muscled quads exploded from my amazing thighs, roiling and heaving. Monstrous mountains were surging out, growing my thighs to freakish proportions and causing my bones to lengthen in a desperate bid to contain my new power. I stretched my legs out, causing them to grow over the edge of the bed. My calves began hulking out, diamond-shaped boulders bursting into being from beneath my thin skin. My feet crashed into my floorboards, shattering them as they blew out to the size of tennis racquets. "OH MY GOOOOD! YEEESSS!! ARRRGHHHH!!!" My body convulsed, monstrous biceps flexing with impunity as I flexed and roared and arched my back. So much size, so much muscle, just blowing up all over me! I was growing into a massive, monstrous muscle god! My shredded, freakish thighs were so fucking huge I could crush girders between them! My biceps were huger than basketballs, just bunching and rippling with even the slightest thought! My forearms were humongous masses of rippling, shifting sinew that were growing bigger and bigger and bigger! FUCK! I was wider than my fucking bed, than my fucking doorway! And I was still GROWING! My abs continued thrusting out of my gut, growing and widening into monstrous anvils of bulging brawn. They heaved violently with every monster breath I took, growing in the shadow of the hulking pectorals that were erupting with barely contained power! In seconds they surged past the size of wrecking balls, huge and ripped and fucking glutted with monstrous mass. Such strength, such power! I raised my gargantuan feet and threw myself off my bed, smashing craters into my floor as I morphed into a colossal muscle-giant. "ONE... MORE... BURST!" I commanded, before crushing more and more of the Dildo into my musclebound ass, "AAAHHHHHH!! AAAAARRGHHHHHH!!" Every gigantic muscle of my body, clearly defined and heaving with power, began pulsing with renewed vigour. My body began blowing out, giant blocks of boulder-sized brawn bursting out of my back as the rest of me rocketed toward the ceiling. I was a fucking massive muscle monster now, with a thick fucking sequoia neck and planetoid pectoral muscles bulging out of my chest. My arms were punishing world-destroyers huger than my monstrous quads were thick! I was growing, thicker and harder and taller! Fuck yes, FUCK YES! Finally, as my head graced the ceiling of my room, the awesome power of the dildo, now fully plunged into my pulsing hole, surged back from my limbs and seared a path down to where my cock – pitifully small compared to the rest of me – sat ready and eager for growth and power. "OOOHH FUUUUUUUCCKKK!!" I exploded, falling to my knees as the Dildo drowned me in pleasure and caused my cock to shoot out by the feet and fatten by the inch. In a single second it had doubled in size, a hot river of cum sloshing from my quivering cock hole as my hips bucked and thrusted. My godly Dildo was still fucking me senseless, now a perfect fit for my brawny new butt, and every time it slammed into me my cock just hulked out more and more! Ggrrrr!! GGGGRRR!! More cock! MORE MUSCLE! That's it... grow... GROW! My superhuman schlong exploded to the thickness of a fire hydrant, white hot sperm spraying onto my floor as it trashed and flexed before me. More pumping, more growth! Yes, yes, YES! The monster that crashed against my pecs almost rumbled, heavy with the weight of potential as my puny balls began swelling monstrously, shooting past the size of basketballs and growing amazingly hot against my massive thighs. The power within was building, boiling within my growing pair, my colossal testes visibly churning with my seed until the dam suddenly broke. I bellowed, enraged that my balls would dare defy me, and threw myself back just as my cock exploded in a storm of sex and cum. As my humongous testicles crashed against the floor, roiling and flexing and pumping me full of liquid testosterone, my cock surged with newfound power, shooting past four feet, then five feet, until the swollen mushroom head grew past my head and denied me the pleasure of mouth-fucking myself unconscious. But at this point I had gotten so muscular, so monstrous, so overcome by the most primal of needs that I didn't give a fuck. Two titanic hands crushed against my tree-sized tool and flogged it for all it was worth, each deafening stroke causing a shockwave to erupt from my godly bod as my eruption tore off great chunks of ceiling. As my orgasm reached its climax, my cum jets grew so great they lasted almost five whole seconds each. So much spunk erupted and sprayed from my monster that my bedroom was soon flooded with my power, even spilling out into my living room as I painted the walls and ceilings white. And then a dark fantasy returned, and with guttural moan did I make yet another wish. Before my massive chest, my gargantuan pectorals began flexing and bouncing beyond my control. A great streak of white split my senses apart, blinding me with lust as my nipples thickened massively and began exploding with orgasms of their own. Out of sync with the eruption taking place between my huge quads, I was soon flailing and screaming, unable to control myself until the electrical storm crashing through my neurons grew too great even for me. I made one last attempt, one last try to form a wish in my head such that I could continue this orgasm to end all orgasms, but in the end my nerves gave out first, hurling me into the abyss as my body finally calmed. I didn't know for how long I had slept, no more than five minutes if I guessed right, for no light streamed through my windows and the great stench of man and sex was still fresh and strong. There was a loud pounding coming from somewhere. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! Aww shit I could barely thick straight after such a release! My entire body was drenched in seminal fluids and practically smouldering! Why the fuck was something at the door now? I couldn't let anyone see me like this, no matter how I wanted to! Struggling to regulate my breathing, I wished away all the cum coating my apartment, reversed the damage I had caused and, after much deliberation, reluctantly wished away my superhuman musculature and the cardinal crown of hair I had been wearing. The feeling of my herculean brawn just draining away left in its place an emptiness that only worsened the sensations of weakness that now stung at my arms. Once satisfied that my house and body looked as unsuspicious as possible, I propped myself off the Dildo and left it by my bedside, but not before wishing myself a fresh set of clothes. Just another polo shirt and some khakis, nothing fancy. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! Geeze I'm coming already! Hold on to your horses! Fuck, it sucked being so small and weak, once I got rid of whoever these were I was going to get right back on my Dildo. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! "What?!" I hollered, all but wrenching my door open and then doubling back when I realised I recognised the two men standing before me. "CIA!" one of them barked, brandishing his golden badge, "Put your hands up chump!" Fuck! I complied, my still-trembling hands shooting up at the sight of the gun barrels mere inches from my face. Oh god oh shit oh fuck how could I not have checked my visitors first? How could this have slipped my addled mind? "Why're you shaking bub?" challenged the taller of the pair, "Got some drugs in you don't we?" "I think we both know what he's got," chuckled his partner. The shorter agent pulled out some kind of photograph, utterly black save for blotches of red, blues and greens in the shape of a man and a sex toy. "Yeah you know what this is," he sniggered. And he was right, the thermal image was clearly of me – well, a much more muscular and long-haired version of me – with my legs far apart and my ass plunged upon a very long, very thick, very familiar shape that radiated an unusually uniform heat signature. "How?" was all I could muster. "You were so distracted you didn't even notice us by your window," answered the taller agent, "To think you managed to replace the FBI's Dildo with a fake, clever, but that's what the CIA's for." The two men pushed their way into my apartment and locked the door behind them. They then led me to my sofa and handcuffed my wrists behind my back. From here, I was only slightly relieved to see that my bedroom door had partially closed, blocking the Dildo from sight. If I could just reach it... "Keep your gun on him at all times," ordered Mr Tall, "I'll search for the package." "What?" retorted Mr Short, "Why do you get to look for it?" "I was a detective for years before this," countered Mr Tall, "And besides, you need to learn the ropes, and guarding the arrestee's part of that." What hopes I had had for a confrontation were dashed when Mr Tall seemed to relent. "Alright, alright," he breathed, before pulling away from my bedroom door, "You can search, but remember the mission." Mr Short was almost bouncing with glee at the news. Without another word he lowered his gun and sprang off toward the kitchen. The thunderous crashing of many pots, pans, and plates soon followed. "While he's busy," whispered Mr Tall, the barrel of his gun kissing the sides of my head, "You'll tell me where you're keeping the Dildo." I drew in a deep breath, trying and failing to still my nerves. "It's in the kitchen," I lied, "He's going to find it soon." "No he's not," chuckled Mr Tall, "I spent the first fifteen years of my career a detective, you aren't fooling me." The agent pressed the gun against my forehead, more forcefully this time. "My bedroom," I hissed, still shaking, "It's in my bedroom." "Ah, that's a good boy." Still training his firearm on me, Mr Tall began inching away from the sofa and toward my slightly ajar bedroom door. His eyes were not on me though, utterly fixated on where his partner was turning my kitchen upside down. I swore under my breath. How could it have come to this? How could I have been so... careless... like Nicklinson was?! Staying back at the school instead of wishing myself home immediately was a mistake I was never going to live down. I should never have stayed back, I should never have gawked at those police officers as they chased Nicklinson to the locker rooms, I should never have... jammed the guns of... everyone on... campus. I threw the CIA guy an angry stare, and saw to my horror the gleaming golden Dildo shimmering as he pushed the door apart. "Oh..." he gasped, "Oh yes." "NO!" I bellowed, springing off the sofa and charging him with all the strength I could muster. Even with my arms tied behind my back I knew how to throw my weight at someone, and in the scant two seconds it took me to close the gap I had shouldered Mr Tall flat onto the floor before rolling off using the leftover momentum. "WRONG MOVE!" shrieked Mr Tall from behind me. There was a loud click as his gun jammed in his fingers. "Fuck!" he snapped, before I kicked my bedroom door against his head, "FUCK!" It wouldn't shut, and suddenly it just burst open again as Mr Short came barrelling through. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the Dildo, just sitting there unattended. Mr Tall seized him by the ankles before he could take another step, sending his body to the floor and his hands to my trousers. I was still moving, and despite two grown men trying to hold me back my big, strong legs proved stronger! RIIIP! My pants were torn clean off, Mr Short's fingers tugging the waistband of my underwear all the way down and exposing my gaping, winking hole. Hah! This was almost too perfect! I gave Mr Short a swift kick, freeing me from his grip and causing me to stumble backward. "NOO!" they cried in unison as I threw myself onto the Dildo. "FFUUUUUCCK!" I screamed, "I CAN FEEL IT!" The very building seemed to shake as the Dildo's power exploded into my prostate once more. "AARRGHHHH! THE POWER! I CAN FEEL THE POWER SURGING THROUGH MY VEINS!" My cock began gorging itself on my blood, thickening and swelling and arching upward as it hardened like iron. And then they were off, falling and tripping over themselves as they fled from my apartment. I could hear them cursing and swearing even as they reached the hallway. They were calling for backup, for all their backup, I could have sworn I even heard them trying to call in the National Guard! Gods, I couldn't stop myself from breaking into laughter, tears of relief streaming down my face. My body was still the bulky-yet-flabby body of a gym teacher. I hadn't even made any wishes yet! While it was true I could feel the Dildo's power surging into my body through my prostate, the truth was so much simpler. I was a fucking ass-man, man! Having such a massive, oversized cock up my ass was just turning me on beyond belief! I wished away the handcuffs from behind me and flexed the muscles of my old body. Fuck I could be so much bigger, so much stronger and so much harder in mere moments! But first... Mr Short was the first to cry out as his shoelaces miraculously untied, his face leaving quite the impression by the curb and sending Mr Tall tumbling over him. I then swiped their radios away and, imitating their voices with the aid of the Dildo, directed everyone at the other end to 18 Pounding Boulevard, where a very drunken, very under-aged party was just about to hit its climax. Teach those kids to purchase alcohol with fake IDs, I was gonna! Still magically interfering with their radio, I borrowed the voice of someone else on the airwaves and practically yelled about how Mr Tall and Mr Short had gone rogue. I wasn't usually one for schemes, but twenty years of high school would teach you a thing or two about that. The CIA responded awfully quick, especially since Mr Tall and Mr Short's car was now shooting down an empty highway at breakneck speeds toward a certain foreign embassy, with the totally-legit Dildo of the Demigods in the boot, no less! As for the dynamic duo, they were off spending some time in a foreign country somewhere. I had heard many nice things about those... international prisons facilities, and I figured the two would benefit from some time off work after all that's happened. I inhaled deeply, savouring the sweetness of my victory before dusting my hands off the matter. At last... at last I was alone again... along and ready to grow so big, so fucking big... I held myself back, closing my eyes and trusting myself to wish a small, simple wish. A wave of static swept over me, and once again I felt the vigour of youth returning in full. This time though, I chose instead to retain the flab around my belly and the glasses upon my face. No all-consuming muscle growth for me, not with sunlight starting to stream through the shutters and not with my principal blowing up my phone with pictures of the FBI swarming the school. There were still hockey teams to nurture, swim teams to coach, and plenty of frantic high schoolers who no doubt needed a firm guiding hand through this phase in life. I drew in another deep breath, pulling in the Dildo's power and releasing it deep within my gut. All over me my muscles began to tingle, growing hard and strong and firm as if I had never once slacked off since the start of my career. The strength that filled me now was nothing short of incredible, even after I had tasted the monstrous potential of the Dildo, and was made all the more delicious by the flabby 'disguise' I now wore. They would be none the wiser, all of them, and so long as I presented myself as I did in my old life they would remain so for as long as I needed. And yet, I suppose now would be a good time to start... exercising and dieting again. How would the bodybuilding team feel if their coach wasn't big and buff and just bulging with brawn? It was going to take time to lose all this excess baggage after all. Surely they wouldn't mind if their coach joined in on their weightlifting sessions. I was actually growing harder at the thought. They were going to gawk and gasp and gurgle in awe as my progress outpaced their own. I was going to get lean and tight and hard, and then I was going to get huge and hunky and harder. Soon I was going to start wearing speedos again, makeshift posers for when I had to teach the senior team just how to show off their magnificent bodies on stage. The Dildo of the Demigods thrummed against my prostate. Oh... why had I not thought of that? I've been so selfish... too selfish. My tongue actually quivered in delight as I wet my lips. I could see them now – Jerrold, Yates, Corrigan, Tomas, and even wee little Ronaldson – slowly broadening, thickening, their athletic frames growing heavy with the weight of more and more brawn as I showed them just what time in the gym would do to them. The coiling smirk returned to my face as I lowered my head to regard the Dildo. It was time, time to see just how big and strong those young gods were going to get!
  11. It has been many years since I have written a muscle-growth piece! I'm happy to be part of the storyversary, this one written for the purpose of the forum... it gets pretty kinky, but I hope you enjoy! - Achilles aka BeastPup http://beastpup.tumblr.com MEAT “Tell me what you want… what you really want…” his voice said, whispering in my ear from behind. I could feel his heat upon me; my cock throbbing painfully tight in the confines of my jeans, harder than it had ever felt. He had me right where he wanted me. Painfully aroused… heart beating in my chest like crazy. I didn’t answer him right away; couldn’t, a moan was escaping my lips. His hand had reached around from behind, and was not only exploring the mounds of my pecs, but was actively teasing the nubs of my nipples through the fabric. It was like he knew all my buttons. Shields were down. Direct hit. “I want…mmmf…” “Say it. I want to hear you say it, puppy… just like you said online last night…” I swallowed, some of his saliva from our frenetic kissing mixing with my own. Turning to look him in the eye; he was nothing like me, half my size. Yes, I was a bodybuilder; I’d done a few shows, but still a long way from my full potential. 260lb offseason was nothing to sneeze at, but still a long way from the monster pros that I admired. Would look even more impressive if I wasn’t so tall, being 6ft 3. But he was so…. Unassuming. Yet so powerful. His head only came up to my chin, weighed about as much as I could shoulder press for a max. But he caught me with his captivating, knowing gaze from the moment we met, deep steel-blue pools that were windows to an inner strength and confidence I’d never had. For though I had blown myself up into the epitome of the alpha male, underneath all that flesh I still felt like a boy, sometimes. Stumbling through the world. But he… was a man. And what a man… nibbling even now at my earlobe, waiting for my response… “I… want to be meat… I… want to be used… a playth-” I wasn’t able to finish my sentence; my head was commandingly turned, and my lips were locked with his again, hungrily devouring my mouth, my words of wanting, taking them into himself. I had no choice. Finally he parted. “Are you sure that’s what you want? Say it one more time and it will come true.” He thumbed my nipple again and I melted. No hesitation. “Y-yes! Please Sir… I’m yours! Just make me…” “... meat.” he finished, with a grin. “You are going to be my meat.” And true to his word, that is exactly what I became. And this is that story. * * * Before that night - the night I gave myself over to him - we were very much more than strangers. By then he was already deep inside my skull. When I got his first message, I thought he was another online fan. There were plenty. Though I shied away from the exposure of dating apps, I kept my own little blog keeping track of my progress, my aspirations, and slowly hundreds of guys came to cheer me on. Not all wanted to get into my pants, but many did. I enjoyed answering their notes. I don't know how he sniffed out what it was I truly craved - a man to own me, a man to guide me. I didn't even realise it myself. But he surely did. He casually introduced himself as an admirer. A few more notes were sent between us and he shared little glimpses of his life, and it turned out we lived in the same city. He was nice… polite. Not straight to sending me pictures of his cock or ass like most guys. Then we started messaging in real time and things really took off. I'd send him pics when I was hitting the gym and he would lap them up, telling me how good I was looking, telling me how much he wanted me to get even bigger, as did I! He started filling my head with growth and worship fantasies, telling me I could never be big enough for him, that he would love to see me four hundred… five hundred pounds thick! And I lapped that up in return. It was a spark, alright. Eventually he got me opening up… telling him about all my deep desires. Spilling out how much I wanted to just surrender control and grow for someone forever… be their plaything… be… Meat. Meeting up with him was inevitable; I put it off for awhile, work and training kept me pretty busy. I was shy. But eventually he could not be denied… the date and arrangement was made. A bar in town… a place I felt comfortable… An awkward introduction on my part; confidence and ease on his. His name was Craig; he already had a beer waiting for me when I arrived, in my too-tight white t-shirt, pectoral cleavage visible in the V. I wanted to impress him. Be the object of desire I tried to be online. I needn’t have gone to so much effort; two drinks in and I was very much putty in his assured, accomplished hands. He could make me laugh, make me blush… always so easy to talk to, but with a knowing, ever-present smile on his lips the more we chatted. By the time we moved from the bar, into one of the more private rear booths, he wasted no time in getting his hands on me. I flexed… I let him touch wherever he wanted… and he turned me on so much, this little guy… knowing he wanted what I wanted… That was when he whispered in my ear. That was when I felt the first wall of any resistance to him crumbling away. It would not be the last. * * * “Drink, meat.” I heard his voice say, commandingly. I looked down at the full shaker cup thrust before me. My body was shaking - every muscle aching, pumped, rivulets of sweat covering every thick inch. My stomach was so tight - I suppressed a groan - but the cup was brought to my lips, being tipped into my mouth, and I parted my lips, finding the thick sludge mixture being force-fed, he wouldn’t stop. I lifted a shaking, engorged arm, putting my hand to the cup to steady the flow, the thick iron chain around my wrist jangling where it dragged across the concrete floor. “Good boy. Such a good boy. Drink. Grow.” Drink. Grow. It had been a week. Drink. Grow. Lift. Inject. I had gained 40lb. In a week. Drink. Grow. Lift. Inject. CUM. I had no clothes; I was meat. I didn’t get clothes here. I was a prisoner to my own desire… and that was how I wanted it. And who could argue with the result? 300lb seemed so far away before… but whatever he was feeding me… injecting me… was making all my… our desires for size come true. Once the cup had all gone, he lowered it again, smiling and wiping away the excess from my lips. “Good boy,” he said again, lovingly, like a farmer to his prize bull. “You are such a good boy. You know what time it is now, don’t you meat?” He brushed his thumb over the throbbing weapon between my legs, making me groan as I nodded dumbly. My muscles weren’t the only thing that had grown, and yes, I was rock hard. He measured his meat every day, and my tool was on the verge of hitting 13” and showed no signs of stopping. None of me did. “I’m never going to stop growing you, meat,” he said to me, the first time he chained me up in that basement gym - my home, my world now. The lock went on. “You want that, don’t you?” “Y… yes…” I shakily replied, my desires betraying me. “Yes? Yes what?” He touched his ear. “Yes Sir!” I blurted, blushing. He was still training me. I wouldn’t make that mistake now. “Good boy. You’re going to get everything you want. I love you.” Pulling me in for another possessive kiss. My heavy chains around me shook as I took in my new home. It seemed like a dream come true…all the weights I could ever use. Full length mirrors with perfect spotlights. Benches with straps… a stocked fridge… nipple pumps… cock pumps… All I had to do was give him everything. I am not crazy; when he asked me to give up my job and move in with him so he could focus on growing me into the meat trophy he knew I longed to be I was… hesitant. Things were moving so fast. But there was such peace in his presence… such reassurance… it was like he had me under some kind of spell, and certainly he had such magic fingers the way he milked my cock… whenever he could… in the bathroom… in the bushes at the park… we had a couple more dates and I knew in my heart what I had to do. I had to give it a go or I would regret it the rest of my life. So here I was; 300lb of blown, roided muscle slave, my engorged cock being played with as he led me, waddling, to my “recovery” bench. It was set at a 45° angle to the floor, thick with black upholstery. I felt it’s cool fabric on my sculpted bubble butt as I positioned myself like willing cattle. Glad to rest. Within moments my ankles were in the restraints. He was slowly jerking my drooling cock as my aching, 26” arms were lifted into position above my head for the wrist restraints to go on. Before my neck was strapped in I could look down slightly, and my now-plumped pecs were brushing against my chin. I loved every sensation. Completely captive now, a muscle toy, he forced such kisses onto me. “Good boy. Good meat… time for your programming…” He spat on his hand, lubing it up, as he began to wank my incredible cock, worshipping it, growling in my ear. “You’re meat. Meat, boy. What are you?” “M… meat!” “And what is meat for?” “Meat is… for use!” Faster. My eyes rolled back in bliss. “Who does meat belong to?” “Sir!” “What does meat have to do?” “Grrr...grooow!” “You’re for use…” “Meat f-for use…” “And you are going to keep growing for me?” “Y-yes Sir!” “How big is meat going to grow?” “N...never stop…” Faster. Faster. Words deep into my mind. “Never ever. Grow your cock until it is useless for topping. Huge meat trophy cock. Bottom meat for use. Too huge to move. Is that what you want?” “Y… yes!” “Do you want your programming, meat? Do you want me to stop?” “N… no!” “Tell me what you want, meat.” “I… w… want… t-to grow… w-want… to be used… meat for use… meat for use… meat for…. Ahhhhaaa!” My words mixed with pleasure as I had my third orgasm of the day at his hand; heavy over-productive balls contracting to spray thick wads of my roided bull cum all over my stomach and pecs as he aimed my cock precisely to coat myself. I grunted and huffed in exquisite pleasure, the happiness not fading as he brought his sticky cum-streaked fingers up to my mouth to clean, which I did, gladly. Drinking my own essence; I needed every drop to grow. I didn’t have too long to bask in the afterglow; he used my own fluid to slick up a mighty pair of nipple pumps, and soon had them twisted onto my sensitive bull nipples, plumping them out with engorged force. I gasped every time at the mixture of pleasure and pain. But it felt so good when they came off and he would spend an hour just suckling on them… I finally settled in as he kissed me one more time, my cock finally starting to go limp. “Good meat. Proud of you today. Rest. Grow.” From behind the bench, he slipped on a pair of headphones, followed by a blindfold. A gentle peace washed over me every time as he gave my arm one last reassuring squeeze. In darkness I was left to doze, muscles absorbing my fuel… and over the headphones came his comforting voice. “Grow meat. You have to grow. You love Sir. Such a good boy. You love Sir. Meat for use… growing meat… meat for use… meat for use…” * * * I lost myself. Lost track of time. The days blurred together; he was injecting me more often now, all over my body. More food. More roids. More training. I wore a hood all the time now. Black leather, like an executioner’s hood The person who had come into that place had gone; all I was now was meat. A huge roid monster with a blown out gut… the numbers on my daily measuring climbed higher and higher… at some point blowing me past 400lb. 33” arms, lined with veins and stretch marks. I think he had started putting viagra in my food as well as roids; I was perpetually horny, saturated with testosterone and my own musk. The whole basement stank of it… stank of sweat, stank of sex, of me. I hadn’t been allowed to shower, you see. He liked my smell. Made me feel even more like the animal I was. I wonder what they made of it. The men who he brought in to have their turn with meat… I never got to see their faces or ask them questions it started sometime after I hit 400lb. I was blindfolded on my recovery bench… but instead of headphones, a gag was put on me instead. I couldn’t talk. Couldn’t tell Sir how much I wanted to keep growing for him. But I would hear the door to the basement open… footsteps, more than just his… Some of them couldn’t help but make remarks. “Fuck. Look at this roided pig…” “Jesus. It’s hanging past his knees. How…” “Oh god. I thought you were sending me morphs… he’s real!” “Fuck yes…” That was when meat was used. Every which way. Some of them wanted to just worship my body… tongues and lips over every inch, especially my nips which had grown fat and begging to be sucked. Others would have a go at wrapping their hands around my two-foot long throbbing pole. Taking two arms to jerk me off so they could get a taste of my bull milk. Trying to suck the head but too big for ordinary mouths now. Or being untied from the table and being fucked, used as a cumdump for others. Rimmed over and over again. The one thing I could never do again was top; I was too big for it now. My cock was now a trophy cock. Trophy meat. I kept growing. One worshipper at a time became two. Three. Eventually I’m sure my Sir must have had me milked up to eight times a day by over thirty different guys. I was never addressed as anything other than meat; never permitted to talk. Just used, as I’d been programmed. Sir never stopped programming me, loving me. I loved Sir. Loved being meat. But more was yet to come. * * * “What does the scale say, meat?” “I… I can’t…” panting, grunting, my breath coming up short. “Can’t what?” “Can’t… see… chest… in the way...” “I know, meat. Just teasing. You want me to tell you, don’t you? I’m so proud.” “H-how much today Master… did… did we make it?” I felt his hand on my rear. Could hardly bend any more to see him next to me, just frozen like a muscle statue on the customized scales, the full length mirror on the other side of the room transfixing me with my inhuman, overblown shape. A pat of reassurance. Of love. “Yes meat. Five hundred and one. I’m so proud of you.” I shook a little with excitement. My cock, which was semi-hard, got harder at his words. I could feel the monster stirring. He stroked my thigh, and my already bow-legged stance got a little wider as I allowed my owner access. Grunting pleasure. I was fully programmed meat for use. Meat for use. And yet, his hand pulled away. “Mmm… no meat. No milking today. Today you have reached a milestone… just in time, as I planned. Today is going to be different.” “... Sir?” “Go to your bench press, meat. While you were training… I have laid some things out for you.” Through a fog of lust… I could make out his words, slowly understanding what it was he wanted me to do. Anything not part of the routine… of endless lifting and sex and growth… took my brain time to process. I turned, like a battleship maneuvering in the water, and began waddling to the other side of my captive environment, cock leading the way followed close behind by my jutting pectoral shelf, arms stuck out at my side at a sharp angle by the swell of my lats. Stopping short of the bench press - still racked up with a 750lb barbell - I bent at my roid-gutted waist, grunting, to look down at what was laid there. A big shiny piece of purple fabric. A pile of leather straps. A large chain and lock. And… what looked like another hood. But this wasn’t like my executioner hood. No… it seemed to be something custom. Something beastial. With horns. A bull hood. My mind raced, dribbling a little as I grunted again, taking it in. Finally I heard my owner’s voice behind me. “These are your clothes, meat. We’re dressing you up today. Remember clothes?” I grunted. “I… why do I need…” The door opened. Three men came in… younger, twink-ish guys… they were shirtless with leather harnesses on, carrying buckets, sponges, towels. They approached… looking so small… making me get hard. It was the first time I had looked another person in the eye apart from my Sir since I had given myself over to him. They blushed and looked away, standing to the side, as if waiting for their own orders. “You’re going out, meat,” Craig said with a grin. “Time to celebrate your milestone. Be good meat and let them wash you; no cumming. You are going to save that for later. Is that understood?” “Y-yes Sir!” “Good boy. I love you so much my property.” He pulled me down for a passionate kiss, making me throb, before finally he let me go to the tender care of the assembled boys. For even though they were in their twenties, they were but boys compared to me, a hypermasculine bull. I knew that was why he had gotten me the hood; I was milked like a cow daily. Only fitting I would look like one when he took me… wherever he was taking me… They got to work in silence, furtive glances exchanged as I lay back and let them wash over every inch of my swollen form, sponges working their way over the mountains of my flesh, in between the cracks where muscle trapped muscle and skin, over the veins. As much as I had enjoyed my time as an unwashed sweaty animal, it was such a good feeling, all their tender hands over me. I could feel myself getting hard, and they were obviously all tenting hard in their jeans as they washed me, but I tried to focus and didn’t lose control. Eventually they were done; the last thing they did was “dress” me, if you can call the scant garments put on me covering for clothes. The harness went on first; it took all three of them to put it around me, going over my torso in an X shape. It must have been custom-made, the biggest of its kind ever produced. Studs of metal along the thick black bands, the whole piece enhancing my freakishly inhuman shape, putting my immense muscle-tits even more prominently on display. Then they put on my pouch; it was an engineering marvel, really, how it wrapped around my colossal, practically floor-dragging cock, football-sized balls, the whole package thrust forward by my quads which were each thicker than the boys were wide themselves. The blimped bulge hung there in purple in front of me obscenely, the fat head outlined for all to see. To top it off, it was cut like a jockstrap at the back, leaving my outrageous shelf-like rear exposed for all to see. These two items completed, they withdrew, parting with longing touches as I stood admiring myself. I was in the motions of my arousal testing the fabric and my hands wandering across my nipples when I felt the presence of Sir, his hand wandering over my back. Hadn’t even noticed him coming in, I was too distracted, which elicited a heartfelt blush from me. “It’s okay meat, you were enjoying yourself. But you are not yet ready; kneel.” He spoke in the tone that made me obey instantly. Meat for use. I grunted with the motion of getting down on both knees in front of him, my mass competing with itself in both lower and upper halves as parts of me that didn’t want to fold any more were forced together by my limbs. Breathless, I felt his hand on the back of my column-like neck, traps reaching for my ears… followed by a heavy chain draped over the nape, the cool metal like ice on my super-heated, bronzed skin. I shook as he brought the chain around my neck, and brought it together fastened with a sturdy, huge padlock. The kind you’d put on an outbuilding or safe… not a person. But on me, with the thick metal links in place, holding it above my impossibly swollen pecs, it looked perfect. Beastial, masculine. “So that everyone knows, you are owned when you are out there… and this…” I felt something heavy going over my head. The bull hood. The dark leather slid over my brow and eyes, putting me in pitch black for a second, before the holes lined up and I could see my Sir again. “...is so everyone knows what you are. An animal. Meat. Come, stand…” Heart beating fast at all the new stimuli, I put my knuckles to the concrete floor, and had to give myself a giant push to get my mass with momentum enough to stand, my body a symphony of rippling muscle as I slowly rose up and up. The mirror was still there in front of me, and I couldn’t help but stare at what I’d become for Sir. What he had made me into. Now decked out in all these garments… I looked like something out of a fantasy… the kind of morph I used to masturbate to, back when I had a life… back when I had been small… another life… He took my hand in his. “Come, meat. Before you get too worked up… it’s time the world saw you for what you really are,” he said with a wicked grin. * * * A horse trailer. They actually loaded me into a horse trailer. For livestock. An animal… I couldn’t help but let myself muse upon it deep in my meatspace as I sat on the floor with my gargantuan thick, wide back pressed against the wall. Sir gave me a portable mp3 player and headphones while we travelled. I could see it was dark, night-time outside. In my head his words were repeating; similar to my basement programming, but subtly altered. “You are meat. You are such a good boy. You love being meat. Love being on display. You love making your Sir proud. You like showing off. You are for use. You are for touching. Meat for use…” Breathing heavily and feeling my cock twitch inside the pouch, I couldn’t help but play with my oversized nipples, drooling a little as we travelled. It didn’t seem to take long… the vehicle slowed to a crawl… the night sky seemed to begin to be filled with flashes of color, and despite the words playing in my head I could detect the heavy thump of loud bass music coming from the street. My curiosity grew, and suddenly my dark prison burst open as the door was lowered, practically blinding me. Standing there, a silhouette against the gaudy profusion of neon lights, was Craig, my beautiful, perfect owner. He had his hand extended. His recorded words were still looping, but I saw his mouth open and lip-read his simple command “Come.” Getting to my bare feet with the same heavy effort as before, I staggered towards him like a toddler learning to walk for the first time, my constant gait at over five hundred pounds blown up on my frame - still 6ft 3 even then. The headphones dropped from my ears, falling to the floor as I left the Mp3 player behind, and the music grew louder. A wonderful dance beat… there was glitter around Master, lots of people behind him… some kind of celebration? A street party? As I walked out from the float into the street, everything overwhelmed me at once. So many bodies walking and dancing… fat and thin, fit and toned, muscular, bears, twinks, young and old… so many in costume in front of me, and lining either side behind barriers a huge crowd of people, from behind my hood I saw the incredulous looks start to ripple through them, fingers starting to point in my direction, while the lights swirled and the music was a fierce beat that drowned out the pounding of my heart. “Welcome to Mardi-Gras meat,” he slipped behind me, sensing my hesitation, my awe. A firm hand patted my beach-ball sized ass-glute. “Gay pride day. And you’re my parade float,” he whispered. “Sir…” There was a clink. I didn’t realise it, but he had in a second attached a long, silver leash to my chain collar. I was still standing around in a stupefied gaze when I felt the first insistent tug in front of me. “March, meat. Walk for these people and show them what a real freak looks like.” My chest tight, my legs were forced into motion… with every step my cheeks behind the hood reddening as my freakishly enhanced junk bounced over my quads and knees, obscenely leading the way. My arms forced to the side… barely able to see my feet in front of me due to the breadth of my chest, I really did feel like an overblown parade float. We weren’t marching alone; we were flanked by many more harnessed leatherboys of the kind who had washed me. Friends of Sir? How many of them had blown me, milked me in the dark I wonder? None of them seemed phased by my appearance as I waddled along… but the public… oh the public… I was such meat for display… I wasn’t able to avoid them. Master tugged me up to the barrier. He had me stop still in front of them… and flex. Their eyes bulged out of their sockets. They gasped. Some recoiled. But mostly they looked on me with awe and lust. I heard their words burying deep into my skull. “Wow man… what a freak! He’s a real prize bull!” “Oh my god is that thing between his legs real? How does he even…” “Woof! Oh I gotta get a photo of this… and Mark thought he was big, your arm is bigger than his whole body!” They lavished praise. Some jumped the barrier just so they could get close to me. Photograph me. Master ordered me to flex again and again and again… popping pecs.. Arms ballooning while they were groped and fondled… the boldest gays were hefting my junk, pulling away the fabric slightly just to see how real it was. I was such fucking meat! And not asked to talk… just objectified… used… My slow waddle went on and on… the night grew late and I grew dizzy and overwhelmed with sensation. My feet ached from having supported my bulk for so long, body glistening sweat and shining from exertion. We reached the march terminus; hundreds - thousands - of gays clustered themselves at the finish, celebrating with their floats, kissing each other in abandon, riling themselves up for the after-parties to come. I paused, groaning with pent-up lust, as the leather-brothers I had walked with drew tight around me as we were cooped up together. I felt familiar hands wandering all over me. Tweaking my fat nipples… cupping my cock and making it swell even more… looking around for Sir, I gasped and realized the leash had slipped off and he had gone, at the same moment feeling hands yanking down my pouch, leaving me fully exposed. “Meat for use… meat for use… meat for use…” they chanted, ringing me in, hiding what was happening from view of the crowd even as I felt a hot wet tongue enter my rear, a forced mooing moan of pleasure escaping my lips, my cock having no choice to swell to fully erection as three… four pairs of hands began to jerk me off! Sir had planned this whole thing! I closed my eyes, shaking, groaning, flexing, feeling like a god amongst ants, the music around us surging as I was forcefully milked and used in public. I could feel my heavy balls desperate to release and draw tight, an orgasm seemingly inevitable, when suddenly they stopped, leaving me on edge and fit to burst. To the side, I heard his voice, clear as day. He had come back. “Have you had fun, being my meat? Did you have a good time?” “Y… yes!” “Good meat. But now…. You have a choice.” “S….sir?” I throbbed uselessly, the boys holding fire, just teasing me enough to stop my dick from going down, or move an inch. I couldn’t even turn to see his face due to the hood. “Once this parade is over… you can leave. You don’t have to be my meat any more. You have made me so proud; but after today, there is no turning back. If you come back with me to the basement… I’m never going to stop growing you. You will never breathe free air again. You will get so big you won’t even be able to move. You will be that big. Is that what you want?” My heart lurched. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to cum… I wanted to be his… but… there was a shard of me left. The old me… before I walked into that bar… before I’d given myself to him. It fought to ask one simple question, through the fog, through the programming. “H… how…” I felt his hand in mine, squeezing it. I knew his palm so well. “You know enough to know none of this is possible… good meat. I am an incubus; I feed on your desire, your sexual energy. I have looked a long time to find the partner that is right for me. The energy you give sustains me; some of it I feed back to you… growing you as you desire… it is the perfect harmony. Balance between us. But now I can release you… if that is what you want.” “No…” He squeezed harder. “You are sure? You need to think about this… are you ready to give yourself, completely? “I’m ready…” I murmured… “I’ve always… been ready… I…. am… meat… I love you…. Sir…” His hand slipped away from mine. “Then I’ll do it. I’ll take you away… the pleasures you felt before… are nothing of what to come… my growing monster… my partner… my lover… my meat… forever… and when you cum… the energy of your release will be the start of a new age for us both…” Their hands started again. The pleasure grew and grew… and grew… and grew… I felt myself expanding in size, the harness snapping off… and it was true, it was really true… he was feeding the sexual energy of the crowd into me… making me blimp, balloon… giving me what I wanted…had always wanted… locking my muscles even further in mobility… And all I had to do was give him me. But there was no me any more. I came, my world exploded into pleasure and release. My mind let go. Only meat remained. Forever. END
  12. Hey guys, I am so sorry for posting so late, but I came down to the wire on this one. My original idea was more expansive but I had to rework it make it more manageable. I hope it still works for you guys. Enjoy! A Stranger's Fantasy The bus rolled along as it carried me to work, my face looking down at my phone, doing anything I could to alleviate the boredom of my long morning commute. Besides liking dudes I lived a pretty ho-hum life. Average job, average love life, average apartment. I longed for something to shake my world up and shake me out of this rut I lived in. But that wasn’t likely going to happen to me on the bus while I played games on my phone. Still about 40 minutes from my destination it stopped to let on a new passenger. I glanced up in slight curiosity to see the person getting on as is my usually my instinct, but instead of quickly returning my sight to my phone like I usually do my eyes froze on a perfect vison. He had messy short blond hair and deep golden tan which he showed off with a tight ribbed white tank top. The body the tank clinged to was rippling with muscle, veins criss crossing all the way down his arms. He wasn’t as big as a bodybuilder, but more of a fitness model. He wore black jeans that had to be custom fitted the way they perfectly followed every bulge and curve along his legs. He paid the man his fare and turned to walk down the aisle. Walk was the wrong word. It was a swagger. Every movement oozed confidence and sex. His mouth was set in a certain smirk that said he was the sexiest person here. As he came further down the bus his stunning face became more detailed. He had piercing green eyes that shined with mischief and sensuality. His smirk was causing two small dimples to form just under his high cheek bones. A darker blond 5 o’clock shadow covered his face down to his square jaw with a dimple in the chin. He continued down the aisle he stop just short of where I was sitting, turned his head and then locked eyes with me. His look penetrated me. Boring deep down into my core like he was searching for something. I stayed captured in his gaze until his voice brought me out of the trance. “Is this seat taken?” he said. “Um..yeah, sure. I..I mean yeah, it’s open.” He smiled a perfect smile and proceeded to sit down next to me his hard broad shoulders brushing up against me. . I noticed a glint nestled into cleavage of his pecs. Some sort of metal disk on a silver chain. It had a sinuous line running down the center making resemble a yin yang symbol with one side gold and the other silver. There were strange characters etched along the outer edge. I looked around and wondered why he chose to sit next to me. The bus was pretty sparse this trip with maybe ten or twelve people tops with plenty of open seats. I guess I was just lucky. Or unlucky depending on how you looked at it. This guy was designed to push all my buttons and the last thing I needed was to pop some embarrassing boner. I decided to bury my face into my phone to distract from him so I wouldn’t humiliate myself when I heard his deep, sultry voice vibrate me to my core. “So, do want to hear my fantasy?” I turned my head. “I’m sorry, what?” “A fantasy. Something you keep buried in that deep, dark corner of your mind” His look and smile were absolutely pornographic, leaving little doubt what kind fantasy he was talking about. “I don’t really think…I..I mean I am not really comfortable with…..” “Shhh…” he said as he pressed his finger to my lip. “Just let me share my fantasy with you. I’m sure you’ll love it. You see I’m sitting on a bus with this unassuming guy next to me. I can tell he’s into my body but he’s afraid to say or do anything.” He began to subtly squeeze and flex his various muscles increasing the tension in the air. “But eventually he works up the courage to just brush my thigh, so he can feel if this muscle is real.” To my surprise I found myself slowly bring the back of my hand back and forth across his denim encased leg. I didn’t even think about it, it just happened. My eyes darted around to see if the other passengers where staring at me but they all seemed to be occupied with their own thoughts. “He grows bolder and just full on grabs and strokes my leg, kneading the muscle.” I looked back down and…and it was true. I was now just rubbing my paw across the top of his thigh. Just squeezing and messaging it as he flexed his quads for me. I tried to pull my hand away but when I did I just couldn’t. Moreover I realized I didn’t want to. What he said is what I wanted to do. I was scared and….excited. “Oh, yeah!” He exclaimed as he bit his lower lip and watched me work his legs. “But do you know what the best part is? What this guy doesn’t know is that when people touch me I get super turned on and when I get turned on I grow.” I could feel a rippling in his thigh. I thought it was him flexing but I could soon hear the material of his jeans creaking and groaning. The subtle sound of stiches popping began. It grew louder until the seam on the side was rent open exposing the flesh of his increasingly striated leg. The rips grew more numerous as now both his legs were expanding from my attention. One of them was forming just beneath my hand. I griped it and opened it further so I could get direct contact with hot writhing sinew. As I slid my hand into the ever widening hole the direct contact seemed to cause the growth to accelerate. More tears and stretching were coming from his other leg and spreading all the way down to his calves and feet destroying his shoes and turning the rest of his jeans to rags. “Fuck! Oh shit!” the guy said in a breathless voice. The growth itself must have been pleasurable for him. Every time I stroked his muscle he groaned like I stroked his dick. It was like he was a living full body hard on. Part of me registered that the whole bus should have been staring at us, disgusted with us. Hell someone should have called the cops at this point and have us arrested. But now the greater part of me didn’t care. Whatever this fantasy he was telling me about I was now fully enthralled in it. “Next he works on my upper half.” He scooped me up in his left arm handling me with a strength that is much greater than his size, or at least his upper half. He sat me on his lap facing him. Though the growth in his legs had slowed down I could still feel the muscle fibers splitting and shifting underneath me. He ran a hand up back until he grabbed me behind the neck and brought me in real close to his face and turned my head so he could whisper in my ear. “Now he starts feeling me up all over my torso, worshiping me, making sure I can catch up with my lower half, and I’m already so excited so start growing even faster.” Before he even finished the sentence my hands went down to his hips and I slowly brought them up his sides. My thumbs slid past the deepening ridges of his Apollo’s belt and past the growing definition of his obliques. As I grabbed on to the lats I could feel the increasing size weakening the seams of his tank as tears form under his arms rending the fabric down the sides. I squeeze them hard, unyielding to my grip and beginning to spread my hands apart. He began to nibble and lick at my ear to egg me on. I continued to work his lats until his back was wide enough to cover half of my former seat and the sides of his shirt were almost completely blown out. I moved up to his pecs caressing his already considerable plates of muscle and felt as they inflated like balloons, and stretched the front of his shirt taut. A tear began to form at the top and unable to wait I grabbed it and ripped it open so I feed his muscles with my desire more directly. As I squeezed, grabbed and punched at his pecs he would flex them causing a tidal wave striations to roll across my hand and letting me feel each of the individual muscle fibers shift and grow. When his chest had grown so big that I thought I might be pushed off his lap I moved up towards the head. I rubbed his traps causing them rise up his neck like a second set of shoulders that were growing out the top of him. It spread to his neck causing it to thicken like a column. The necklace I had noticed before was now like a choker, almost digging into his neck. I moved down to the shoulders and felt as the separations expanded and multiplied, broadening his frame further growing to the size of basketballs. As I continued to massage his shoulders I leaned down to begin to bite and kiss his neck, enjoying the feeling of the stubble against my face and the pulsing of the veins on my tongue. His shoulder rippled and moved and I knew he was moving to a double bi pose. I took my cue and worked my way down his left arm. His bicep was already at least 17 or 18” but as I moved my hand across the peak I could feel the skin stretch tighter and fill up my hand. The split grew deeper as felt the fibers of the muscle grow more distinct. 20”, 21”, 22” his bicep and tricep grew until it was as big as his head. I moved on up the forearm and watched as it pushed out my grip along the way. Thick veins branching out from the elbow fed the growth as I worked my up. I repeated the process the on the right arm until they were matching mounds of muscle pulsing with power. I leaned back and took a look at him. Where there was a hunk before there was now a god. A veritable Greek statue of a man cover in inhumanly sized, deep, ripped muscle draped in the tatter and rags of his former clothes. He pulled me in close with his newly enlarged arms and brought his face to mine his lips less than half an inch away from mine. I leaned and press my lips to his. He moaned into me with his now impossible deep voice and opened his mouth to let his tongue invade mine. We kissed deeply for a couple of minutes when I felt a stirring between my legs. The crotch and waist of his jeans was still relatively intact but now I could see the zipper begin to bulge apart. The guys smiled at me and said “And then he moves on to one last thing to complete the package.” I reached down and began stroking him through tortured material and he responded with deep growl. I could feel the shaft swelling in my hand followed by the sound the zipper teeth snapping causing the fleshy head to peak through. I reached in and pulled his fly apart further to help free his hardening monster while my other hand reached up to tweak on of his huge silver dollar nips to arouse him even further. The blissful yell I received in return confirmed that is was working as did the increasingly large rod that grew up between us. It shot up like a magic bean stock and wedged its way in between us. I continued up until the softball sized head wedged firmly inside the crevice between his pecs a river of precum flowing down the shaft. My hands stroked up and down his thick cock getting coated in the pre. I stuck my fingers into my mouth for taste and found myself intoxicated. I lapped up the copious flow with abandon and worked my tongue all the way to the top while he shivered with pleasure the whole time. Finally, at the top I reached the bulbous head where I stuck my tongue into the slit to take it in from the source. But it was this move that finally sent him over the edge. I could feel him tense all his muscles before yelling in orgasmic bliss, “And…then…I…CUM!” I felt it race up in great pulses with the first shot firing towards the back of my throat and filled my mouth a thick creamy load. I tried to take in as much as I could but the volume overwhelmed me and removed my mouth and let him shoot his load freely into the celling. As his jizz splashed against the celling of the bus and rained back down on us, I let loose my own load soaking the inside of my own pants. His load continued to spurt strong for another minute and then slowed down until it just dribbled out and slid down his cock. After the bliss wore off I realized we were in the middle of a bus but as I looked around in panic I saw that everyone else on just seemed to continue on like nothing was happening. The guy saw me looking around and said, “Don’t worry about. They’re not really paying attention.” “What just happened?” I said now more lucid. It seemed this guy’s thrall was wearing off. “Well, that’s a little complicated. For right now let me just say thanks for helping me out.” He leaned down and gave me a deep kiss taking extra time to lick up the cum that had landed on my face. When he broke the kiss I saw that his necklace had changed. The gold half of it was there but the silver half was missing. “Look down.” He said as if he could read my mind. I did and I saw the other half of the necklace on chain around my neck. “What is this?” I asked. “Think of it as an IOU for what you did for me. Now it’s time to WAKE UP!” I sat up with a start. I was back on my seat on the bus and by myself again. I looked towards the other seat and saw the mystery man wasn’t there. Everything looked the way it was before. No puddles of cum. No shredded clothes. ‘Oh God!’ I thought ‘Was that really all a dream? It felt so real’. Everybody on the bus seemed to be acting normal as they were before. I thought maybe it was dream. Except, I could feel something around my neck. The necklace! It was real enough. The same one he had given me. As I held it in my hand I thought about what he had said about an “IOU” and wondered what he could have meant.
  13. Disclaimer: The main characters in this story are underage. Reece Torch and the Sorcerer’s Merit Badge A short story by scriptboy HAPPY EASTER!! Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. - 1 John 3:18 (NIV) Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth. - 2 Timothy 2:15 (NIV) Reece Torch was one lucky kid. His mom had signed him up to join the Boy Scouts the year he turned 11-years -old and he loved it since the day he walked in to the first meeting. He started working on his first Merit Badge right away and he made a ton of new friends. The weekly meetings were held in a small room on the property of the local church, which was just down the street from his house, so he could walk over there no matter what. To make things even more fun was the fact that his best friend in the fifth grade, Zach Baker, also joined as soon as he heard about it from Reece. Reece and Zach were classmates in the same school so it was just natural for them to be in the same troop as well. They started to attend the weekly meetings and they became even more fired up when they each had earned their first Merit Badges. When the announcement was made that the troop was going on a camp over the weekend, they were elated! They would finally go camping with a bunch of guys from the troop! Hoe awesome was that? So, the boys had packed their backpacks and they met in front of Reece house before they walked to the building by the church. This was the biggest event of the year for them. They would finally get to go on adventure away from home and without their parents! They were nervous, of course, but that was perfectly normal. Both boys were only 11 years old and they were short and scrawny. But, that would not stop them from having a fun weekend with their troop in the woods! On the way, over to the meeting place, the boys walked past an old house. The house almost looked like it was deserted and the boys normally didn’t pay any attention to it. This time, however, they spotted a leather bag on the ground, right in front of the path to the house, and right in the middle of the sidewalk. There was no way for the boys to miss the bag since it was open and since it was clearly visible that the bag contained several gold coins! “Dude! Check that out!” Zach said as he stopped in front of the small bag. “Hey! Leave it alone! It’s not yours!” Reece said angrily while Zach bent down and took a coin out of the bag. “Still! This bag got left out here, in the middle of the sidewalk?” Zach whispered. “We found it! Let’s take it!” “NO!” Reece shouted, as he pulled the coin out of Zach’s hand and tossed it back in the bag. “Are you crazy? That’s stealing!” “So?” Zach shrugged. “Finders’ keepers!” “NO! Scout’s Law! Have you forgotten about Scout’s Law already?” Reece sneered, as he bent down and picked up the bag. Then, he turned around and started to walk towards the front door of the house. “Oh, come on, dude! Screw Scout’s Law!” Zach grumbled out loud as he remained standing on the sidewalk. “We found those coins on the street so they’re ours! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Reece walked up to the door and knocked as he turned back and faced Zach. “I’m gonna give these to their rightful owner. Scout’s Law!” Zach just stood there and let out a deep sigh as he waited to see what would happen. Reece stood at the door and waited for a few moments and he almost just turned around and walked away when the door opened and an old man with a bald head appeared standing in the doorway. He looked down and saw that Reece was holding the bag in his hands and he just smiled as he took the small bag from him. “Uhmm… Someone left this on the sidewalk in front of your house, sir…” Reece said to the man. “Oh yes, one of my clients had left that for me a few minutes ago and I just haven’t gotten outside yet to retrieve it. I so appreciate your honesty in getting that for me! Thank you so much, young man! Most people who would have spotted this on the sidewalk would have taken it and they would have stolen this from me!” the man said quietly. “Oh, brother…” Zach groaned softly as he rolled his eyes. “Oh, not me, sir! I’m a Boy Scout and I follow Scout’s Law! I won’t steal stuff that isn’t mine!” Reece stated. “And this clearly belonged to you and that’s why I wanted to make sure you got it back before somebody else came along and stole it!” The man looked down at Reece and smiled. He reached out and placed his hand over the boy’s forehead. “I sense that you’re a Boy Scout. You are destined to do great things. I will give you something which will help you fulfill your destiny.” The man stated. He turned around and walked away, returning a moment later with a small necklace containing a medallion. He gently placed the necklace around Reece’s neck. “What’s this?” Reece asked him. “There! This is a Merit Badge from me. Let it be known that I am a sorcerer, and that this medallion possesses tremendous power! This will give you amazing physical strength when you need it, and you will need it soon. The medallion is yours today, it’s your reward for your honesty, and the strength will be yours forever! Have a great journey, my young friend!” “Uhh… What?” Then, the old man turned around and walked back in the house. “Uhh…. You really don’t need to reward me with anything, sir! I’m a Boy Scout and it is expected of me to always be honest and loyal! You really didn’t have to give me this nice med—“ Reece started to say when the man just closed the door. “Uhh… wow!” Reece shrugged as he just turned around and walked back to where Zach was standing. “Can we go now? Next thing you know, we’re gonna be late!” he grumbled. “And, it’ll be YOUR fault!” “Dude! The old guy was a sorcerer!” Reece replied. “Look what he gave me!” “Oh, come on! Gimme a break…” Zach said sarcastically. “So, now you’re Harry Potter, right?” “Oh, come on! You’re just jealous that the old guy gave me something!” Reece giggled as the two boys continued their walk to the small meeting room which was located on the property behind the old church. Once inside, they were greeted by their Counselor, Mr. Towers. He was a middle-aged man in his early fifties, with a big belly and light brown hair. He wasn’t very tall but he was always very friendly. “Welcome, boys! Are you guys all ready to go to camp?” he asked the younger Scouts. “Yes, sir! We’re all ready! And, prepared!” Zach smiled. “Ahh…. Scouts are always prepared! Okay, take your seats at one of the tables and wait until we’re ready to get on the bus!” Mr. Towers instructed. Reece and Zach sat down at one of the round tables when they were approached by two bigger boys who were clearly about two years older than them. Their names were Kyle and Jake. They looked like basketball players. “Well, the little guys have arrived!” a tall boy named Jake sneered. “I hope you guys can swim, because the current is strong and the water in that river is deep and very, VERY cold!” “We can swim!” Reece nodded. “I took swimming classes!” “Good! Because if you fall overboard… Nobody’s gonna rescue you!” Kyle added. “Yeah… And we’re not bringing any floaties for you little guys to wear!” Jake laughed out load. “Pffff…. Idiots….” Zach mumbled just as Mr. Towers announced that the bus was ready to leave. The Scouts all lined up and everybody boarded the bus. Once they had taken their seats, the bus drove off and took them to a small building which was located near the entrance of the park. From there, the boys hiked to the camp site where they set up their tents. The site was located walking distance from a small lake where the boys could go swimming. After the boys had set up and enjoyed a light snack, they walked over to the lake. Once there, they all got into their swimming trunks and enjoyed the afternoon splashing around in the water. It was there that Reece first started to notice something odd. He was swimming farther and faster than before, and he didn’t get so tired. When he got out of the water, he realized that his arms appeared a little thicker than before. As he looked down at himself, he noticed that his chest started to bulge and his flat stomach began to show what appeared to be a nice six-pack. What’s going on? “Hey, get dressed! We’re gonna go back and have a campfire!” Zach said to him. “Umm… okay…” Reece said, as he got out of the water and made a fist, flexing his arm in front of his best friend. He realized that his biceps seemed bigger and harder than before. “Oh, what now? Feeling like Hercules, are we?” Zach sighed, rolling his eyes. “Uhh… Dude… Do I look any different to you?” Reece asked his friend. “I think you got a slight tan from being out in the sun all afternoon… Maybe that’s why your muscles look bigger…” Zach shrugged. “Oh…. I guess you’re right…” Reece sighed, as he dried off and put his clothes back on. The boys marched back to the campsite where they built and lit a large fire. First, they ate hamburgers and chili which they heated up over a flame. Then, they all sat around the flame and they heated up marshmallows and told ghost stories and jokes to one another. Finally, around 11 o’clock, they all crawled into their tents and they went to sleep in their sleeping bags. Mr. Towers blew his bugle around 5:30 in the morning, waking up everyone at the camp so they could get ready for the boat ride down the river. The boys crawled out of bed and got dressed before they packed their gear for the ride. Then they started the march down the trail which led them to the dock where the small boat was tied which they would use to pedal down the river. Even during the hike to the dock, Reece was constantly feeling a cramping sensation all over his body. It felt like he had been working out the whole time. It was a slight burning sensation, as if he had lifted something heavy using his arms. His legs felt as if he had run a marathon. The burning feeling would flare up and subside again, over and over. Every time it returned, his muscles felt like they had become harder, bigger and heavier, making him feel stronger at the same time. The boys continued their hike down the clearly marked trail until one of them stopped. Then, they all stopped. Reece couldn’t tell what was holding them up at first because he was one of the shortest kids and because he was walking all the way in the very back of the group. Several of the Scouts started to talk amongst each other since it seemed that there was a large, heavy tree branch that was blocking the trail. “Golly! Can’t we just lift it and move it out of the way?” one of the boys had asked. “It looks really heavy! We need a couple of the strongest and biggest guys to lift it up and move it out of the way…” “Darn! This thing weighs a TON! Come give us a hand, you guys!” “Let’s just climb over it!” Reece was hearing all these remarks while he slowly walked closer to the large, fallen branch, when he began to feel that strange tingling in his muscles again! In fact, it got more intense as he listened to the other Scouts while he glanced at the large branch at the same time. Several Scouts had tried to lift the large branch at one end but they just couldn’t get it off the ground. It was too heavy for them and it wouldn’t budge. As they tried and tried, Reece felt his muscles increase in size. He felt stronger and stronger with every passing moment! When he looked down, he realized that his biceps had grown to the size of baseballs and his arms had become very thick by now! Not only that, but his chest was pushing out of his shirt and it was straining his uniform considerably. His calves were so big, that they were pushing his long socks down his legs and his quads were filling out his khaki shorts due to all the increased muscle. His unform began to feel very tight and constricted on him! “Uhhmm… Let me try!” Reece suggested as he walked over to the end of the large branch. “Ohh, come on, Reece! If WE can’t lift the thing, surely YOU can’t lift it!” Kyle sneered. “Certainly not all by yourself!” Reece just ignored all the comments as he placed his hands on the edge of the big, wooden piece and took a deep breath before he actually lifted the large branch about a foot off the ground! “Arrgghh!” he groaned as the branch rose off the ground. “HOLY CRAP! He’s doing it!” Eric gasped out loud. Reece then started to walk towards the side of the trail, pulling the side of the branch with him, clearing the trail from the big branch which was blocking the way. Once Reece was standing off to the side, he let go and dropped the heavy branch to the ground, much to the amazement of all the Scouts who were standing there and who witnessed his amazing feat of strength! “Well… How did you do that?” Kyle wondered out loud. “I wouldn’t believe it had I not seen it with my very own eyes!” “Hey! The little guy has some muscle in him after all!” Jake shouted for all the others to hear. “Wow! He reminds me of another kid who was here a few years ago, and he was really big and buff, just like Reece!” Eric said. Eric was another one of the Scouts in the troop. “I think his name was Tristan!” “Alright! Let’s continue on to the dock!” Zach shouted, leading the way for the troop so that they could start the trip down the river. Reece just smiled as he continued to walk behind the rest of the guys while he flexed and looked down at his enlarged muscles. What was going on? Why were his muscles growing so fast? What was happening to him? Did the sorcerer have anything to do with this? Reece was feeling anxious, confused and excited at the same time. He had never felt so strong in his life! But, why was this happening to him? And what would happen to him, once they were done camping? Would he lose all his muscles and strength? He had so many questions going through his mind at that moment that he didn’t realize that they had almost arrived at the dock where the boat was. “Alright! Everybody get on board! We all sit in rows of two-by-two! The pedals are in the boat!” Jake shouted. “Reece and Zach get on first since you guys sit in the back! Everybody has to wear life jackets!” Reece and Zach sat in the back, followed by Eric and Stanley in front of them, then James and William and finally Kyle and Jake up front. Kyle untied the long, 20-foot rope that was keeping the boat tied to the dock before the boys were off on their trip. The first twenty minutes of the boat ride were uneventful. That part of the river was deep and the water was very calm. The boys just pedaled together and the boat just moved forward at a constant speed. “Guys! We’re coming up to a shallow part where there are some large rocks in the middle of the river, so be ready! There is a chance the boat might get capsized! Check your life vests!” Kyle shouted at the rest of the troop. Both Reece and Zach made sure their vests were on tight. And, it was in the nick of time! The water started to get rough and the stream was picking up. Suddenly, they spotted large rocks in the water! “Turn! Turn left! NOW!” Kyle ordered. The boys pedaled hard to make the boat turn to the left side. The ride got bumpy as the rocks caused the boat to rock from one side to the other. “TURN RIGHT! RIGHT! NOW!” Kyle shouted. A large wave picked up the boat as it glided over one of the flat rocks and then came down hard over the water, hitting the water with a hard BUMP which caused all eight boys to nearly slide off their wooden seats in the boat. “Auwww! Okay hold on tight, you guys! This is the rough part!” Jake shouted. “Now, go left! LEFT!” The boat was heading straight for a large rock in the middle of the river! All the boys were trying their hardest to steer the boat away from the rock as quickly as possible when there was a loud CRACK! “JAKE! There is water in the boat!” Eric shouted. “DUDE! We’re taking on water!” Stanly said. “GUYS! Start pedaling towards shore! NOW!” Kyle ordered, as he pointed to the river bank. “WE’RE SINKING!” Zach screamed. But the stream was getting very strong and it was pushing the boat farther away from shore. In fact, it was pushing the boat towards another row of rocks! “LOOK OUT! WE’RE HEADING TOWARDS THE R---“ Kyle screamed as the boat slammed another rock with its bow. The jolt made all the boys fall of their wooden seats. CRACK! The bow slammed into the rocks! “WHAAAAH!” Reece screamed as he lost his balance and fell overboard. PLUNGE! “MAN OVERBOARD!” Zach shouted. “Reece! REECE!” Luckily, after a brief moment, Reece came up, thanks to his life vest. “I’m gonna swim to shore!” Reece said as he began to swim to the muddy shore. He was very close! “REECE!” Zach screamed, as the boat got farther away from his buddy. Thanks to his larger muscles, Reece was able to swim to shore right away. His thick quads and calves, along with his mighty pecs and biceps, gave him a tremendous thrust to move across the river water and to make it to the shore very quickly. Once he reached the shore, he crawled out of the water and he removed the vest. He then looked over and saw where the boat was and he started to run along the shore as quickly as possible, catching up to the boat with the rest of his troop. Once Reece had caught up to the boat, he started to shout out to the other campers, who were still on the boat. “ZACH! TOSS ME THE ROPE!” he shouted at his buddy, who was sitting at the back of the boat. “HURRY! GET ME THE ROPE! NOW!” Since Zach was sitting right by the stern, he grabbed the long rope and threw it in the water. He tied one end to the hook on the stern of the boat. Reece waded in the water and grabbed the end of the rope which was floating in the water. Once he got hold of the rope. He got back on shore and he started pulling. “Time to get back on land, you guys!” Reece said as he gave a HARD tug on the rope. “WHAAH!” the guys shouted, as the boat got jerked backwards. It was all thanks to Reece and his big muscles! The stream was pulling the boat further away, but it was no match for Reece big, bulging muscles! Reece kept on pulling and pulling, dragging the small boat back towards shore, with the seven boys on board. As Reece got the boat closer and closer to shore, he felt his muscles grow in size and strength! He felt his biceps, his pectorals and his abdominals grow as he quickly reined in the thick, long rope as the boat fought against the strong current. It was just a matter of minutes before the boat was dragged across the dirt and the boys were able to step back on land again, all thanks to Reece and his amazing strength and his huge muscles! The boys were completely amazed by Reece and his amazing strength! They cheered him on and they thanked him for rescuing all of them from the leaking boat on the river! After the boys had marched back to the campsite, they had told the counselor, Mr. Towers, what had happened, and he was totally amazed as well! He said he would give Reece a special award for bravery at the next scout meeting. The boys packed up the tents and they got back on the bus. A few minutes later, they all met at the building near the church, where they talked about the boat ride and Reece’s remarkable rescue! He was the hero of the day! “Before we all leave, I want you guys to meet my nephew, he was a Scout at this troop five years ago… His name is Tristan Towers!” Mr. Towers said. A large, hulking young man walked in, wearing a nice polo shirt and sweat pants. He was extremely muscular, with thick arms, wide shoulders, and big, bulging legs. He walked up to Reece and shook his hand. “Hi there! Are you Reece?” the young muscle guy said. “I’m Tristan! I heard all about you!” “Oh, hi! I heard your name mentioned a few times this weekend as well! It’s my pleasure to meet you!” Reece responded politely. “Yes! I started working out just before I went to my first camp, which was right here! After that, I joined a gym nearby and now I’m the manager and the trainer there, while I’m taking classes in college. So, if you’re ever looking for a gym where you can work out, please give me a call!” Tristan said, giving Reece a business card. “Oh, sweet! I will! I’ll call you!” Reece smiled, as he placed the card in his pocket. The boys all gathered around for some final announcements before they were dismissed for the day. Zach and Reece finally left the meeting hall and started walking back to their homes when they passed that old house. In fact, they almost walked right past it when Reece suddenly stopped, turned around and walked up to the front door. “What are you doing?” Zach wondered. “Are you gonna talk to that weird, old guy again?” “I gotta return something…” Reece said, as he knocked on the door. A few moments had passed when the door opened and the old man with the bald head answered. “Ahh, yes… The Boy Scout… Did you have a fun time at camp, my young man?” he asked Reece. “Oh, yes sir!” Reece responded as he removed the necklace and the medallion from his neck. “I just wanted to return this to you. Just because… Uhh… I don’t think I deserve to keep this. I’m a Scout and all Scouts are supposed to be honest and loyal. There is no need to reward me for something that is written in Scout’s Law…” The old man took the medallion in his hand and he smiled at the boy. “You have passed the test, young man. You will not remember this conversation or ever having met me. You and your friends will find it normal that you’re big, strong and muscular and you will continue to grow in strength as time goes on. Farewell!” the man said as he turned around and slowly closed the door behind him. “Ohh…. What?” Reece stepped back and was about to turn around when he was overcome with that strange, intense tingling sensation all over his body. His already large pectorals just grew even bigger, pushing his shoulders out even further, making his torso twice as wide as before. His arms doubled in width as his triceps and biceps bulged with muscle as they grew into mighty pythons of rock-hard muscle. In fact, his arms had become so thick, that they were now hanging from his shoulders at a forty-five-degree angle! Reece’s shoulders were massive as huge lats and delts sprang up on both sides of his body. His quads expanded in every direction, growing deeper, wider and thicker, until they were wider than Redwood Oak Trees. And, his calves became bigger than basketballs, completely covered with thick veins which were the size of long ropes, all over his legs and arms. Reece now resembled a large, seasoned, professional bodybuilder. All while Reece’s muscles were expanding, he ripped out of his uniform and the white undershirt which he was wearing! Not to mention the khaki shorts he had on! CRACK! RRRRRIPPP! Suddenly, his uniform fell to the ground, completely ripped to shreds! His shorts were torn apart and the only thing he had on was his underwear. “Ohh…. I need a new uniform! I just outgrew mine during this last growth spurt…” Reece said sadly, as he picked up his torn uniform off the ground. Both Zach and Reece stared at each other and blinked for a moment. “Well, what are we doing here? Growth spurt? What growth spurt? You have ALWAYS been a big guy! I guess you just needed a new uniform now because the old one was worn out. Let’s go home! We can play some video games at my house!” Zach shouted. “You can borrow my dad’s clothes while you call your mom and ask her to order a new uniform!” “No way, dude! I’m gonna lift some weights, first!” Reece grinned as he flexed his arm. “I gotta feed my muscles! THEN I’ll come over and play video games with you!” “Oh, right! I forgot that you were dreaming about that football scholarship, huh?” Zach laughed, as the two boys continued to walk towards their home, leaving the old house of the sorcerer far behind them, until the next Boy Scout would come along and put on the merit badge of muscle growth. The End.
  14. I am being used as a Guinea pig in this lab. They took me from my dorm and now they are experimenting on me. They put a hood over my head and we flew for thirty minutes, give or take, then we landed and I was carried from the aircraft to a dark tunnel. They removed the hood and the doctor's assistants stripped me down to my underwear, strapped me to a table and he injected me with this purplish blue colored stuff. There was a rush of pain and heat. My muscles are starting to inflate. My arms expanding from weak twigs into powerful pythons. My biceps are looking like footballs! I flex them against the straps trying to get free. They jump off my arms and look like bowling balls as my triceps went from not being there into horseshoes as strain against the straps. My shoulders are now capped with massive amount bulging muscles. My chest is swelling up from a flat almost concave look into two slabs of powerful meat. I love how they feel as I flex, continuing to pull against the straps. The straps that are holding my arms finally give away to my new power. Moving my now free hands to my muscled chest and down across my abs. Wow my abs feel like bricks. I now have an eight pack midsection. Twisting I see a mirrored wall and see how my upper body looks when flexing. I have wings, my lats are bigger than the biggest jock at my college. I feel my legs swell up into powerful pillars of support. I can see my calves from the front of my legs, as I'm sitting on the table. I flex my huge and powerful legs and the straps across my legs pop as if they are made of paper. I'm standing staring at my quads in the mirror. They stand out over my knees and I can see every head. My underwear is getting very tight. I now have a bubble butt and the leg holes are staining against my quads. My groin is growing. My small manhood is changing. It is getting bigger, longer, and thicker. I can feel my tiny balls getting bigger and heavier. It feels like I am going through puberty again as hair spreads from groin and slowly fades as it climbs up between my abs toward my now massive chest. I was a 22 year old nerd and I now am bigger than a heavyweight bodybuilder. Finally the changes have stopped and I feel the need to try my strength out. I cannot control this need to see if I can lift the barbell sitting in the room. I walk over to the massive barbell with huge looking weights. I seize the thick bar and lift. The huge weight looks like it is fake as I curl, so easily. The power in my arms is incredible. I want to test my strength more and start to bend the huge bar. I bend it until the plates are touching, but I don't stop there. I force the steel weights together and mold the entire weight into a ball of metal. I can see the group of people that did this to me and the huge erections with wet spots on their trousers. The doctor is grinning and saying something to one of his assistants. I cannot hear him because they are outside the thick door but I figure it is about what I just did to the barbell. As I continue to compress the huge metal ball into a tighter wad a bright light comes. The light engulfs me completely and horrible pain shoots through my body. I don't remember much, I must have passed out from the pain. I'm awake and it looks like I am in a bird cage. A big bird cage? How can I be in a birdcage? That has been made into a small house. I have on a pair of shorts now. I don't know where they came from but they fit snug and leave nothing to the imagination. I look around and see a little bedroom, private bathroom, kitchen, and what looks like a den/living room. I see the doctor and the his assistants are headed toward where I am so I quickly lay back down to pretend I'm still unconscience. The doctor and his assistant are talking and they are close enough that I can hear them. The assistant says, "He is the first to make it through both processes." "The young man," another assistant says to the doctor, "made it through the biological process and now is only one foot tall. Why did we shrink him Doctor?" "Because," the Doctor replies sharply, "if we didn't shrink him, he would be stronger than any man here. You saw what he did to those straps and that 700 pound barbell. He is stronger than any person I've seen and you want him to just walk around free. By the way did you take care of the bodies of the failures?" The assistant replies to the doctor, "The others have been destroyed completely. What is going to happen to the new subject?" "Once we are done with the rest of the test he will have to be destroyed as well." A cold chill ran down my spine. I need to figure out how I am going to escape. I'll wait until night and try to get out of here. Finally it is time to make my escape. Looking at the bars of my new home, I decide to see if I can bend them. Holy crap, they bend as if they are mere pipe cleaners. Grabbing the bars of my cage and bending them until I make an opening big enough to fit my twelve inch high and thickly muscled body through. Now I have to figure out how to get off this high counter. It looks to high for me to jump down and I don't see anything to make a rope. A security guard walks into room as I just step close to the edge of the counter top. I quickly step back and get very close to the cage hoping I will not be seen. I cannot help but notice how big and muscular he is. I have always loved big muscle men and jocks. I've always known I was gay but never acted on it. I was so small and weak and I could not get enough courage to talk to one. I can't keep from ogling the big guard. His forearms are thick, veins crisscrossing crossing and hairy. His biceps look to be as big as basketballs and his shirt sleeve looks like it is straining to contain it. His chest is wide and hairy. His shirt is open revealing his meaty, hairy pectorals and I am so hard. He has a bull neck and traps that look like he could win any competition. As he moves into the room I watch his legs fight each other for room. His tight pants worn thin from the constant friction as his package is very prominent. I guess if you are making super strong kids you need a strong muscular man to help control them. As he walks by, he gets close enough I can grab hold of him and hopefully use him to get out of here. I reach out to grab his wrist. He moved his arm up and all I did was bump his index finger. He jumps at being bumped by something and has to take a closer look at what just hit his hand. He bends down to where I am standing and takes a closer look at me. I can now see his face, the thick head of hair and beard make him look hotter. He smiles at me, "What are you doing out of your cage little mouse?" reaching his big paw out to grab me. I have to do something so I deliver an uppercut to his chin. The big muscle man's head snaps back as he slams into the brick wall. I cannot believe I just hit that huge man, let alone knock him into a brick wall. He is now sitting on the floor leaning against the wall with a dazed look. I have to see if I can off this table before he comes too. I take a giant leap and land on his broad shoulder. The big man let out an "Ooff" as I land on him. His shoulder is solid under foot. I squat down and feel his strong shoulder. I move so I can run my hands across the hairy pec I am standing on. He feels warm and his pec is hard, but the hair is thick and soft. I walk down his massive chest and take hold of his shirt. I can't stop myself from ripping it open. I am now standing on his cobblestone abs staring up at this huge mountain of muscle. I feel my cock stir more as I look at this muscle man that I just knocked silly. I am getting turned on by the fact that at one foot tall I just knock a massively built man, that has to be over six feet plus and well over 250 pounds of pure muscle, to the floor with one punch. I wouldn't be able to bust his lip when I was full size let alone be able to knock him down. I need to know what I can do. Once again I've got this need to see what I can do. Walking up to his nipple I take hold and squeeze it. He moans and I see his monstrous cock stir. I have to see if I can lift this man. It is like I am compelled to use my strength. I jump down to the floor and shift so that I am under him. I grab hold of his firm buttocks and lift his entire body off the floor. It feels as if he is filled with helium, he is so light! My cock is now at full mast and I am so turned on. I lower him back down and jump back on him. I've always wanted a hairy muscle man and now I have one underfoot, literally. I slap his face and wake him up. Grabbing his beard I pull his face forward so he can look at me. His eyes blinking trying to clear his head. He is finally sitting up on his own, rubbing his chin and jaw. "What happened?" he groggily asks. "I hit you and slammed into the wall." I reply. "You?" he asks as his eyes grow wide and he sees me standing before him. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but you reached for me and I got scared. Plus you called me mouse!" "My shirt?" "Yeah! I wanted to see if you were as big as the shirt made you look. Your not, you are bigger." I said firmly. "I don't know exactly how you got me down here but you are going back into your cage!" His massive hand closed around me and he started to squeeze. I flex my massive muscled body back against his hand. Shock shot across his face as he started to loose this battle of strength. He quickly added his other massive paw but I felt no difference in the struggle. I am starting to leek precum as I watch his face turn red. His arms flexed to the max his tight shirt sleeves are now ripping. Sweat running down his massive chest causing the hair to mat. I continue to force his hands apart and finally break his grip. I feel like Hercules as he breaks apart chains. Shock is on the guards face and I do a most muscular. The shock looks changes into a different look and I turn around and look at his cock. His poor erection is straining against his tight pants. My own cock is straining against these tight shorts. "Poor thing." I say to him. "Your big muscles are weaker than this, what did you call me, oh yeah, Mouse!" His face now has a look of anger as he realizes he lost a direct test of strength. He swings his massive hand to hit me and I catch it easily. The difference is incredible. His wrist is almost as wide as my chest, yet I stopped his arm easily. Holding his wrist tightly I jump down from his waist and now force his massive arm up behind his thick muscle laden back. This feeling of overpowering such a big man is making me hornier and hornier. I force his arm up his back making him squeal in pain. I hold his arm in the painful position before releasing and letting it fall to the floor limp. I reach up and rip what is left of his uniform shirt off of him and move back in front of him. He surprised me as he jumped up and tried to run toward the door. I ran after the giant and easily caught up to him I was amazed at how fast I could run. I grabbed his thick calf and tripped him. Never letting go I pulled the big man into the center of the room. He kicked me in the back of my head as we made it to the center. I turned around to look at him and he tried to kick me again. I caught his other leg and moved them so that I now stood with his shins under each arm. I smiled at him and then started turning. I got faster and faster until he was lifted off the floor. The huge muscle stud was yelling while I hurled him through the air. I let go and he went flying. I laughed as he was flying through the air and crashed into some kind of a machine. Walking over to him I decided to remove his shoes, socks and then his pants. While I was pulling his pants off the guard woke up. "Where are my clothes?" he cried out. "You have smaller problem to worry about." He tried to get up again but I stopped him. I jumped onto his back making him collapse and grabbing his huge thick biceps on both arms. I pulled both arms back hard. Standing in the middle of his rippling back I pulled his arms until he was arching up. I moved his arms so I could hold them with one arm. I had to stop his legs from kicking. I caught one ankle and pulled. This giant muscle guard looked like my surfboard. His squirming finally subsided as I help the muscle stud easily. Letting go his big limbs feel to the floor. I finally couldn't take it any more and had to get these constricting shorts off. RRIIPP and they were gone. "That's not fair," I said, "I am free and you are not." Before he could respond I had his underwear off of him. Stepping down I went to flip him over onto his back when he struck me. His fist as big as my torso is tall now. His big fist slammed into me and he let out a scream of pain. I laughed at him and punched him again. This time I hit his abs and the big man doubled over and slid a good twenty feet. I walked over to him and grabbed one of his huge testicles. I squeezed and he yelped. The power was amazing. I let go and grabbed his massive rod. "Get on your hands and knees, now!" I told him. He didn't hesitate. I held his massive rod and made him crawl into the center of the lab. I then stroked his massive cock. The big muscular bear of a man was moaning and groaning and now thrusting his hips as my strong but tiny hands pleased him. Just as he was about to explode I clamped down hard on his dick. "Do not make a sound!" He stifled his scream and he started to cry. "Now turn around. Face me. Lay down on your belly." He did as he was told. I walked up to his face and forced my steel rod into his mouth. I then proceeded to use his mouth to grind out an orgasm like I have never felt. When I shot my load a made him drink it all. I dropped his chin and looked at his face. His green eyes were glazed over. His lips were busted, nose bleeding and he had a black eye. I turned him over and walked up his shoulder, across his expanse of a chest, down his cobblestone abs and seized his still hard and throbbing cock. In one hand I pulled his cock and with the other I grabbed his balls. I pulled his lower body up into the air. His throbbing member pointed at his face. With just a few strokes my new slave exploded all over his own face. I let go and let him flop on the floor. I walked to the side of his head and saw he was crying. This huge man with these huge muscles and once so tough was crying. "Take me to the room where I was shrunk and make me normal again!" I commanded, "Or you will be my target for my frustrations forever!" The big man cried, "Okay, please don't hurt me anymore. Stand over there." he pointed and slowly got to his feet. I walked over to where he pointed and stood. He staggered over to a machine and hit buttons. Lights engulfed me and the pain, but it felt different. After a second or two the lights went out and the machine exploded. The big man was thrown back from the console. I ran over to where he laid and realized I was bigger. I looked at the reflection in the glass and saw that I was maybe three feet tall now. I felt bad for the big man and hoisted him up in my arms. I carried him back to where his pants were and put them back on him. Then once again I carried him to his car, putting him in the drivers seat. Slowly woke him up and made him take him to his home.
  15. 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.
  16. At the gym where I train, there’s all ages. One man I’m friendly with, his name is Walt, seems to be about 65, and he often works out with some younger bodybuilders who are in their early twenties. He told me about something that happened between him and them. He says it’s true. I wrote it up as a story and embellished it with some fantasy. Big Walt: Senior Brah Walt looked forward to his workouts at Body Power Gym. Since retirement, he wanted to get built again, but not like the massive stud he’d been at his peak thirty years earlier. Now, he worked out four days a week. One of the best things about Body Power was the opportunity he had to train with young bodybuilders. Guys in their early twenties became part of his routine. Walt enjoyed the camaraderie he had with them. Sort of a mentor, he thought, even though they jokingly nicknamed him “Gramps.” Walt played along by calling them “dude” and “brah.” In fact, he was old enough to be their grand dad. One afternoon, two of the young bodybuilders, Tre and Daz, asked Walt if he wanted to go out for a beer. After their workout, the three took off in Tre’s Mustang. As they cruised along Sunrise Avenue, Daz asked, “What are you up for Gramps? Craft brew?” The two young men named a couple of places not familiar to Walt. “I’ll leave that up to you,” he said. “How about let’s just go to our place.” Walt thought maybe “Our Place” was where they’d go. “You don’t mind, do you Walt? Coming over to our house?” Daz asked. “We got stuff, like whatever.” “Sure. Cool.” he shrugged. Turning off Sunrise and driving via some neighborhood streets, Tre pulled up next to a red pickup that was parked in the driveway of the small bungalow that the guys rented. “Coke’s home.” Walt knew Coke from the gym. At 6’2”, 255lbs, Coke was the biggest, most jacked of the young bodybuilders. Walt, 6’, 205lbs, felt puny next to him. “Hey, take a seat. Chill.” Tre and Daz headed through the living room toward their bedrooms. Walt sat on the sofa, looked around the room, pretty sparse except for the sofa, two recliners, and a huge flat screen TV. Voices called from somewhere, maybe from the kitchen: “Wadda ya want, gramps? We got GrowFast, PumpSpurt, bottled water from Fiji, Iceland, someplace like that, and we do have actual, genuine beer too.” “Lemme try GrowFast, I never heard of it.” “Good choice!” Wearing boxer shorts, Tre and Daz returned the living room. They had bottles of water and sports drinks in each hand and offered Walt a blue or orange GrowFast, then sat on the recliners opposite the sofa. “Coke’s on the shitter. He’ll be out in a minute.” From a combination of nerves and thirst, Walt chugged down the half a litre of orange-colored GrowFast. He felt a rush as it hit his belly. “Good stuff.” Leaning back into the sofa, he relaxed a little. “How long you boys lived here?” Walt knew that the young bodybuilders were men, not boys, but he felt paternal, even protective, toward them. The sons he never had, all his children being female. Strange though, he was learning at least as much from them as they learned from them. But he hadn’t yet learned the generational difference in slang that allowed him instinctively to address them as dude or bro, or the even more recent brah. “Six, almost seven months. We met at the gym and figured it would be cheaper to share a house than pay individual apartment rents.” “Yeah. Smart.” Walt leaned forward, untried his trainers, and slipped them off, socks too. Just then Coke walked into the living room, wearing an orange posing suit. “Looks like you need another GrowFast, Gramps. You wanna try blue this time?” Coke handed Walt a bottle, then eased his muscular bulk onto the opposite side of the sofa from Walt. Together, the two men nearly filled it. In the locker room and showers at Body Power Gym, Walt had seen Coke, even seen him naked, but never so close, so intimate yet casual as this. Walt took a hefty swig of the blue juice. It roiled from his belly through his veins to every muscle he had. He imagined himself growing as big as Coke. At least he thought he imagined it. He took a second swig and a third. He aped the sexy yet relaxed way Coke displayed himself on the sofa. He had a fleeting thought about stripping off his clothes, getting naked. Fukken awesome, dudes. Effen, fukken awesome! -- Were they just thoughts, or did he say them? “How about you try a PumpSpurt, Gramps?” “Yeah.” Walt chugged from the bottle of purple ade Coke gave him. Everywhere on his body, he sensed his veins rising, his muscles pulsing. He saw the thick ropey web in his forearms, the cuts in his thighs and thickness of his calves, the heaving of his chest. His nipples, hard and erect, strained against his t-shirt. His pecs, swelling, pushed his nipples further. Damn. Walt pinched his right nipple between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. He pulled and twisted it. My nips are fukken jacked. He moved his hand to his left pec and worked its nipple. To thrust his chest forward and make his nipples rage, Walt raised his arms, hands behind head, fingers interlocked. His traps swelled and his lats widened. His felt his t-shirt stretch. He wanted his strong, hard nipples to pop through it. Fukken man nips, man. “Some workout you had today, gramps.” “You’re lookin big as fuck.” “Pumped, you’re pumped as shit.” “You’re fukken awesome, gramps.” “You’re effen fukken huge.” Totally swole the fuck up, old man.” Daz, Tre and Coke were encouraging him. “You gotta pose for us, brah.” Pose for my brahs, Walt’s mind clicked. Walt looked at Coke and didn’t feel puny. “Here, put this on.” Walt was sure he heard that. Coke had stripped off his orange poser and tossed it to him. Walt pulled down his gym shorts. Underneath, he had a bulge in his white briefs. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious. Still seated on the sofa, he didn’t know how much the young bodybuilders could see. Easy. Easy. Barely raising his ass off the supple leather, Walt peeled off his whities. He grabbed the orange poser, then slid his feet, ankles, calves, and thighs through its leg openings. He lifted his ass off the leather sofa and pulled the poser over his glutes. He grabbed his cock and balls. Fukken heavy, man. Fukken big and thick. His cock felt like way more than 9.5” he was used to, more like 12” and his nuts were big as kiwis. He stuffed his swollen junk into the poser and yanked the it up. It stretched to the max. As he stood, Walt felt 6’4’, maybe even 6’5”, 260-265 lbs. His t-shirt seemed to shrivel. Rising above his pubes, it exposed his roided belly. Its seams frayed as he pumped himself into a most muscular, crab pose. “Arrrgh!” Walt ripped the t-shirt over his head. Walt looked at the young men. He saw their eyes riveted on him with eager appreciation. He knew their interest in his physique was real, and that posing for them wasn’t foolish. With easy arrogance, Walt assayed his mighty physique through poses, variations and repeats: front double biceps, front lat spread, side chest - right and left, triceps - right and left, biceps - right and left, and three different takes on most muscular. Finished with displaying his massive upper torso, Walt transitioned first to a hands over head abs pose, then into abs and thigh poses, right leg forward first. As he shook his right thigh to accentuate his quadriceps, he couldn’t ignore his mega hard-on. Like a knight’s lance as he rode his steed, Walt’s stiff cock lunged forward, stretching the orange spandex, pulling the poser away from his crotch, exposing pubic hair, and offering peeks of his sac and shaft. Fukken awesome cock. Fukken hair. Fukken balls. Walt transitioned from right abs and thigh pose to left. Shaking and tensing his left quad, he also caused his ballsac to shift. Out popped his right nut with its covering of veiny scrote skin. Walt had been focused on his own mind-blowing experience of being huge. For sure, he had been asked to pose; almost begged, he thought, but once he’d ripped off his t-shirt, what he did was all about him, a show he did for himself and watched in his own mind, even as he performed for an audience of three. Walt had heard sounds and hoots, phrases and words of encouragement: “Yeah.” “Go for it.” “Hit it gramps, hit it Walt, hit it brah.” “Awesome, big guy.” “Go strong. You’re freakin, dude.” “You’re fukken massive. Ain’t never seen you look so huge.” Yet, so focused was he on how beastly he felt, the encouragement wasn’t what kept Walt going; a force inside did. While working on his left quad forward when his right nut popped out of the poser, he took a good look at his ramrod pole, defiant in its orange sheath. He felt dominating and powerful. He was riveted, gripped, transfixed by the explosive force that pumped his muscles to extremes, surged in his nads, and jonesed his libido. Walt turned to display his hulking back. Look at that ass. Did Walt hear it or imagine it? The rear of the poser had wedged itself into his butt crack, so Walt’s booty was on full view. Look at that ass. He blasted out a rear lat spread. Look at that ass. He alternated lat spreads with rear double biceps poses. Look at that ass. He did calf raises. Look at that ass. Walt widened his stance. They want to see my ass. Let them have a really good look. He bent over, maybe to grab his ankles, but used one arm and hand, his left, to reach around and pull the poser out of his butt crack. Show you my virgin manhole, dudes. Show you my fukken anus. Walt tugged the poser from between his glutes. Its taut waistband popped against his right hip, then split. “What the fuck?!” Walt breathed out the phrase, deeply. Time for the big show. Walt let the poser fall to the floor, he stepped out of it. Glad of its freedom, his vigorous cockstand charged forward. His teeming nutsac dropped halfway to his knees. Walt turned. “Holy Fuck!” Tre, Daz, and Coke panted. “Holy Fuck! Holy Fuck! Holy Fuck!” Walt’s pisshole oozed precum. His prostate pounded. His balls heaved. His shaft was choked up with jizz. Let it rip. Let it rip. Walt pumped out a front double biceps pose. His nads erupted. Spunk flew. “Fukken A! Fucken awesome! Fukken big brah to you dudes now!” Walt walked out the door. “Shit, brah, get back here.” Coke, Daz and Tre ran after him. “You can’t go other there naked. You got to come down from the juice. You got to put on your clothes and go home to your wife.”
  17. Hey, guys, it's finally going up here! It's technically the 10th here, so I'm a day late, but YOLO. I guess this also counts as my virgin story post on this site, so hurrah! I had to start again this weekend, as I lost my original file, so I'm afraid there's no epic storyline here, and probably nothing new or original. Hopefully, though, you'll be able to read this as a 'good ol' fashioned' - that'd be swell. Enjoy! ---------- His hands were shaking as he pressed his bedroom door shut, flipping the lock almost as soon as he heard the click. Even though Chris rarely came to his room, especially straight after a meal, Gavin couldn’t afford to risk him walking in on… well, on him. A couple of years ago, it wouldn’t have mattered; when they’d arrived fresh into university, they’d still been horny teenagers, pretty much. Everyone knew it, everyone did it, no questions needed to be asked. Now, though, after that stupid night in the warehouse… “Ah!” He could feel the front of his jeans beginning to chafe. Why didn’t he wear shorts? It was all part of his image, trying to impress the guys in town. The few times he’d been lucky had almost made it worth it. That said, fumbling with the buttons on his fly, he cursed his vanity. Was it this bad every time? No, he thought, swearing under his breath as a stubborn button caught on a stray thread. It had been longer than usual since he’d… much longer, in fact. He’d been out almost every night that week, managed to distract himself with some new craft beers at his favourite bar… but not tonight. In fact, he’d been sure of it since sitting down to dinner. Sure, making small talk with Chris had been easy enough, but at the back of his mind, he’d been praying for the meal to be over so he could dash upstairs, back to privacy. With a sigh of relief, he finally freed his already throbbing cock, breathing heavily as he watched his boxers tent up into the sudden space. It was hard for him to believe he’d once only been a measly four inches – and he’d considered that average! If he had to guess, he was currently sporting a much more reasonable six, but he knew that even that was temporary. Last time, he’d even got to… no! He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t reflect back on what had happened to him. It was hard enough going through it in the present. Reaching a hand down, Gavin slowly wrapped his fingers around the shaft. Immediately, vibrant sensations swept through him, and he let out a gasp as he turned and fell against the wall. His back had gone rigid, tensed up from his convulsion, and he could barely feel the friction as he slid down into a sitting position. It was like he’d squeezed on a nuclear rod. After a couple of seconds, he opened his eyes again, and looked down. He could see his cock in his grip, and it looked innocent enough, but even through the fabric of his underwear, he could feel the blood pulsating up and down its length. It had already begun. Just then, he spotted a shift in the mirror, over his drawers. Had a bird flown past, or -? No, it was definitely darker, like something was shading the surface. He let go of his dick – immediate protest from his body – and passed his hand over his face. He was already starting to sweat. Pulling himself up on the side of his desk, he took tentative steps towards the drawers, blinking furiously to try to dispel any trick of the light. If anything, he thought, it seemed to be getting darker as he approached. It was almost as if something was closing in on the other side. Stop that, he thought, shaking his head to try to clear it. Mirrors aren’t portals, there’s nothing there. It would have been a lot easier to convince himself if he wasn’t already freaked out. It definitely hadn’t been this vivid last time, had it? No, but he’d been safely tucked up in bed when it’d hit him, rather than brewing for a week or more. As he reached the mirror, he immediately took in the bags under his eyes. God, the week on the town had really hit him hard. He needed a shave as well, he thought, rubbing his jaw and frowning. Thankfully, it had come out dark on his face – he’d dreaded growing a ginger beard, like his uncle – but it still leaned too far towards scruff for him to get away with it much longer. He narrowed his eyes, leaning in towards the mirror. It definitely wasn’t that dark in his room. What was going-? Out. Gavin flinched back, steadying himself with a hand on top of the drawers. There was no way he’d just imagined that voice; deep, sinister, it had echoed through his mind without warning. He’d never heard anything like it before. His dick, still demanding attention, twinged violently as it became, if possible, even harder than before. He shut his eyes, trying his hardest to beat back the pounding blood in his ears, and inhaled slowly. Dr Astor had told him to do this, if he could feel things beginning to get too much for him. He held the breath – one, two, three, four – and exhaled through his mouth, making sure to keep his eyes closed until the last of the air had left him. Out. It was no good. Hobbling back towards his bed, he flung off the various bits and pieces on the covers, scattering them across the floor. He’d tried doing this sitting down, but it was far easier when he was lying on his bed. As he lowered himself onto his duvet, he caught sight of the mirror again. Yep, still darker on the surface, but other than that, no real change. He’d been paranoid about mirrors since he was young – an episode of his favourite cartoon had involved the main character being sucked through into a grim alternate reality, which had freaked him out enough to avoid the bathroom sink for days. Since then, he’d been able to rationalise his fear, and managed to overcome it to a large extent. Even so, things like Lewis Carroll’s ‘Through the Looking Glass’ still made him shudder. In fact, every room that he’d slept in, he’d made sure that he was able to see the mirror from his bed, without exception. Nothing was likely to crawl through to his side, obviously. It was a stupid idea. Still, stupid ideas had a habit of sticking once his imagination kicked in. Pulling his trousers down to his knees, Gavin’s hand once again found purchase around his rod, which sent further spasms rocketing through his frame. If anything, the feeling had grown even more potent; this time, his eyes clenched shut and he let out a low moan as the endorphins began to dance inside him. His cock had to be about eight inches by now. He was probably biased, in such a position, but he couldn’t remember ever having anything stiffer in the palm of his hand. While his right began massaging the base – ooh, that was good, that was so good – he fumbled about with his left, hunting for the well-handled tube on his bedside table: Keys, no. Watch, no. Come on. Come on! Pen, no. Photo frame, no. Where the fuck -? Ah, there, finally, he had it, just within reach of his fingertips. He shuffled it towards him, grabbing hold as his right hand snaked down to cup his balls – holy shit! It was as if he’d stuck a low-level taser to his sack, such was the current that flew through every nerve in his nethers. He needed the lube, now! Quickly bringing it in towards him, he felt his left forearm collide with something cold, and heard a smash as it was knocked to the floor. Crap, he thought; probably the glass of water. Usually, he would have leapt up immediately to sweep up the shards, pad down the wood panels to mop up the spill. As it was, such instincts were pushed to the back of his mind as he let go of his dick – it didn’t growl at him, but it felt like it – in order to squirt copious amounts of creamy gunk into his palm. Five, six, seven. He had no idea how much he’d need tonight, but he knew that the initial sensitivity could turn to harsh rawness if he didn’t prepare accordingly. Once he could feel it dripping through his fingers, he finally stopped squirting and mashed his hands together. Not long now, he thought, though he already felt conflicted about wanting to get things over and done with. Taking the plunge, he began kneading his meat with both hands, giving his cock a liberal slime bath which it responded to with devilish glee. Indeed, with the lack of friction, it was almost as if the veins became more prominent, and each time he glided over one, he felt a responding pulse from within the shaft. Thus, the wank began in earnest, as Gavin felt his thoughts descend into the dark pool of his mental vault. Dan Mercer, his first foray into sexual deviance at a tender fifteen years old, gazing coyly over at him from a steamy gym shower. Was he still just slick with lube, or had the pre come out to play? Brett Whitney, his first legal lay, posing naked on his parents’ mattress, cock thrust accusingly in his direction, inviting, no, demanding his attention. Gavin moaned again, his right hand whipping into a frenzy as his left clung to the mattress. Klaus Eckhardt, his first year crush, chewing the end of his glasses while his ash blond hair tumbled over his shoulders, naked to the waist, leaning back in his desk chair, letting his pert nipples rise up to kiss the air – oh, fuck. He was close now, he could feel it, toes already bearing the tell-tale signs of involuntary curling. Seamus McLeod, running over from the field, uniform bulging tightly around his heaving chest, sleeves almost bursting against his cantaloupe biceps – ugh! – shorts riding up those pumping trunks of beef, till he could almost catch a glimpse of the prize Leanne had described as… as an anaconda – fuck, fuck! The cannon fired in hearty bursts, spraying his seed across himself, across the bed, before slowing to an ooze down his quaking cock. Gavin hovered in the moment, his back arched up slightly, before allowing himself to flop back down onto the bed. God damn, but that had taken it out of him. Weird, though, how quick it had been. Breaking his own rule, he thought back on the other couple of times this feeling had taken over. Although the increase in size had been about the same, his efforts towards relief had taken ten minutes – fifteen, even. Yet tonight, he’d managed to break through to orgasm in less than five! Something was definitely up. Probably the wait, he reasoned, dragging himself to a sitting position. I was so pent up, it was practically erupting out of me already. It had definitely been strange, in the last couple of months. Although he considered himself healthy in terms of libido, Gavin had instantly been aware of the difference between a standard wank and these… episodes. It wasn’t like he had trouble controlling himself, usually. However, when this urge came upon him, it seemed to consume him, so that it became impossible to ignore or deny. When had it started, though? That was easy. The night he’d got back from the warehouse, messing about with some friends, looking for props for Leanne’s short film. It had been particularly strong then too, he remembered; he’d cut his arm pretty badly when he’d fallen against the full-length mirror. At the warehouse, he’d barely noticed – they were more concerned about the noise, whether a guard would come and collar them. It had only been when he got back to the flat, shucking off his hoodie, that he’d seen the two shards protruding from just above the wrist. Of course, he’d removed them carefully, making sure to wash and bandage the wound. Still, just before he covered them up, he’d have sworn the two red dots looked more like… No. This whole mirror horror had to stop. Inanimate objects couldn’t bite people; such a ridiculous idea. When he found that he had to peel his left hand off his shirt, he decided it was definitely time to clean up. His jeans, having shuffled down to his ankles in his euphoria coil, were easy enough to kick off, landing several feet away in the middle of the floor. It took more effort to remove his shirt – his sticky hands made it hard to grab hold of the material – but his thin frame helped to slide it off quickly. Finally, taking hold of his socks, he was able to peel them off with only minor difficulty, flinging them over to join his other clothing. The bathroom was only down the hall, so he wouldn’t feel too self-conscious stepping out in just his boxers. With a satisfied nod, he swivelled to the edge of his bed and propelled himself up. Shit, what the fuck had he just-? Damn it, he thought, gingerly stepping to one side on the edge of his foot, trying not to knock the piece of glass already embedded into his sole. I forgot about that. Ugh, another bandage, I guess. Looking around, he spotted his towel draped across the chest of drawers. That would have to do to wrap round his foot, at least until he made it to the bathroom to take care of it properly. Luckily, the wound had remained plugged, so there were only a few drops of blood that had joined the small puddle of water. If he was very careful… One step at a time, he inched his way across the room, wincing as his foot gave a sharp protest with each shuffling movement. After a couple of metres, he had to lean against the desk for a moment, his hand making a soft squelch. He was starting to feel light-headed. This couldn’t have been from the wound, though, right? He’d seen himself how little blood he’d lost. Glancing back towards the bed, he couldn’t make out any sort of trail on the floor, apart from what looked like slightly damp footprints. Nothing to worry about, there. Then what -? Whoa. He bent further over the desk, grimacing as a moment of wooziness came over him. This didn’t feel right. For a moment, he debated calling Chris, before realising that he’d have to open the door for him anyway. Plus, he thought, taking stock of the liberal stains on his bedding, did he really want Chris seeing all of this? As soon as it came, the feeling passed, and he resumed his staggering steps to the drawers. Strangely, it felt like the pain in his foot had started to ease off as well, though he still didn’t trust himself to plant his weight on it at all. He tried not to look at the piece of glass, glinting as it caught the odd ray of light when he moved it. With a final awkward hop, he snatched up the towel and braced himself against the drawers with his hip. He figured that if he just slid out the glass with one hand, and quickly bundled the towel over with the other, that’d be the least damage done. Inhale – one, two three, four – exhale. He pulled out the glass. Far from the gushing torrent of blood that he was expecting, a slim trickle followed the shard out. Gavin was just about to lunge in with the towel, when he noticed the shape of the wound was narrower than he’d been expecting. In fact, it didn’t look long enough to match the offending piece of glass. He could only make out where the point had gone in from the fresh pinkness of the skin, and the thin red line travelling down his foot. Wait, not travelling at all, actually. Why had the blood stopped flowing? He’d heard about this sort of injury, with people moaning about how long it could take to heal over, even under a heavy bandage. Bending down, he dabbed it gently with the edge of the towel. There was an idea of pain, somewhere in the heart of his foot, but it was a dull twinge at best. Surely it hadn’t healed already? He glanced at the piece of glass in his hand. It looked to be a good inch, at least, with a jagged point on one end. That would cause some damage… right? Out. He dropped the glass shard, which bounced under the chest of drawers and out of further danger. Where was that voice coming from? At first, he’d put it down to his imagination, with the way that it echoed in his head, but no, his ears definitely picked it up from somewhere. Where -? Oh no, he thought. In looking up, he’d caught sight of himself once again in the mirror. There were the same heavy eyes, the same pale skin – paler, even, after the shock – and the same chipped front tooth from his first and last fight, during Freshers’ Week. However, the dark sheen of the mirror had come more into focus now, and he could make out more clearly what was causing it. It was a silhouette. Not just any silhouette, though, he realised, peering closer despite his misgivings. It was human in shape, if he had to guess, but far bigger than him. It was gigantic! Yes, there were the shoulders, completely dwarfing his own body as they loomed out from him. His head only seemed to reach the neck, as well, so that he could imagine the figure’s head on top, staring down at him. He snapped his head round, scanning the room behind him. Nothing. He really was alone. “Of course I am,” he said aloud, inwardly cursing himself for spooking himself like this. “Focus, Gavin.” He spun back. “There’s nothing there.” He couldn’t really believe this, of course. After all, the shadow was still there, hulking behind him like some monstrous predator. He raised a hand towards the reflection, waiting to see what would happen, but all that changed was his mirror self following the action, as well as copying his puzzled frown. “What the hell is going -?” Let us. Out. There was no mistaking it now. The figure – whatever, whoever it was – was the one speaking to him. God, that voice, though. It was the stuff of dreams and nightmares combined. Deep, but rich; warm, but brutal. He couldn’t be projecting this from a memory. He’d never heard anyone that sounded like this. “Who -?” Gavin cut himself off, wiping his hands quickly on the towel and tossing it to one side. He wanted both his hands free; he had no idea what was going on, but his hackles were raised, all right. “Who… are you?” Too long. You left us… too long. He could make out the edges of the silhouette becoming firmer, as if the man – creature? – was moving closer, on the other side of the mirror. “What?” We want… out. Need to come. Out. “What do you mean?” If Gavin felt stupid, standing in front of a mirror half-naked, talking to himself, it was quickly overridden with a deep sense of unease. Once again, the temptation to call for Chris rose up within him, but it just as quickly went away. No. It was more like something… killed it. Out. Now. He had to get away. He needed to run. He couldn’t move. For a moment, the shadow seemed to flicker, like a bad TV reception. Then, Gavin could only watch as it lunged forth, enveloping his reflection easily with its considerable size. His mouth opened, as if to cry out, but he couldn’t bring up any sound. He could feel his heart racing against his ribcage. Still, though, he was unable to move. It was like he’d been transfixed by his own reflection. After a couple of moments, two lights appeared in the shadowy mass, at about eye-level. They were burning green, and seemed like two neon bulbs against the black backdrop. In fact, Gavin wasn’t sure how he knew that they were eyes. He did know, though. They were watching him. A groan escaped his lips as he felt a surge rising up inside him. It was quite different to the one he’d felt earlier, however: there was no immediate pleasure in this, only an alien prickling sensation that seemed to flow with his blood, up and down his veins. Gasping, he buckled forwards, extending both hands out towards the drawers to catch himself. Deep breaths, he thought. This is all just a reaction to the weirdness. Dr Astor will be able to explain it all. It felt like his fingers were bending of their own accord. He opened his eyes, and focused on his hands, but as he did so, his breathing began to quicken again. All ten digits were beginning to crack outwards, stretching out from his palms, with muted pops as his knuckles adjusted to the increasing length. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the hallucination, but there was no denying the feeling riddling his bones. His hands, eager to catch up, began to widen, began to thicken, clenching against the wood of the drawers as they spread themselves further and further. Everything from his wrist down felt full of blood. More than that, actually: they felt pumped up with blood. His entire hands felt like they were having an erection. A sudden spasm rocked through him, and the same energy from earlier passed up his limbs and into the main trunk of his body, where it began to radiate out an intense heat. He tried to ignore the beginnings of sweat drops forming on his skin, especially on his feet, which had begun to get the same pumped feeling as his hands. Sure enough, with a crack, he sensed his toes inching away from his heels, as the long arch of his size 9s extended out bit by bit. He shut his eyes tight, determined not to watch as his feet reached a size 10… size 11… size 12… “What… the fuck…” he muttered past clenched teeth, still fighting the urge to look. It was beginning to feel like his hands and feet were racing each other, both determined not to be the first to stop growing. Snap! He howled out, confused and scared, as his back suddenly clicked, and he could feel his spine moving in a way that he’d never even dreamt was possible. With such ample platforms as a base, his body seemed to feel that the time was ripe to being its own lengthening act. Although he’d hardly have called himself short before, there was no denying that Gavin was hardly a giant among men. Now, though, as he felt his stranger’s hands and feet getting further and further from himself, he was quickly being forced to revise that opinion. The tallest man he’d ever been up close to had been around six and a half feet tall, and to Gavin, that had felt almost too big for a person to be. The man had been a gangly specimen, and everything had looked awkward for him. Gavin forced his eyes open, noting that he was practically bent double over the chest of drawers now, just to keep his hands flat against them. Moving his hands up along the wall, in an effort to straighten up, he realised that he must have shot straight past six foot, as his head was already about level with the top of the darkness-filled mirror. As he glanced down, he made out the pulsing veins adorning his new hands, almost daring his skin to contain them. They were barely recognisable to him; without the slight scar at the base of his thumb, he would have sworn that he was looking at another man’s hands. A beast’s hands at that, he thought, noting the ridiculous scale of the appendages. For a moment, it felt like everything had slowed down, to his relief. What the hell had just happened to him? He’d only ever imagined sudden growth spurts like this, but his logical brain had always insisted that it would be unbearably painful. Skin and bones weren’t designed to grow that quickly, right? With a deep breath – Dr Astor would be proud – Gavin slowly pulled his arms back, away from the wall, and straightened to his full height. Holy shit! The top of the mirror only came to about his chin now! At a guess, he would have placed himself a little over seven feet tall, if not closer to seven-and-a-half. People didn’t grow that big, though. It was impossible. The darkness of the mirror was starting to irritate him, though. Why couldn’t he see anything? Deciding to try a farther vantage point, he took a shaky step back with his new lankier leg. As if in response, he felt the energy begin to flood down through his thighs, past his knees, right down to his ankles. There was the pumped feeling again, though there was no disguising what was causing it this time. Faint lines began to appear against his skin, where smooth hills were replacing the flat plains he’d previously possessed. These lines quickly became striations as his thighs began to balloon, plumping up assertively as his quads headed in different directions. God, they were getting big now. He placed his hands on top, unable to believe the extent of the swelling mass he could feel pushing back against them. And not just that, but the veins! Not content to be outdone by his hands, they snaked along the huge expanses of meat, fighting their own battle as they were pressed up against the ever-stretching skin. With an explosive surge, his thighs flared outward, each now extending a good six inches wide of his knees on the side. Perhaps at risk of buckling under this weight, his kneecaps thickened quickly, solid bone supporting the equally solid range of muscle above it. Below this, his calves were stretching up and out, filling with muscle as quickly as a stuffed sock, peaking out with a hardy diamond shadowed only by the mountainous thighs above. To crown this, he felt his once non-existent buttocks start to ride out on top, swelling into two thick bubbles with an ever-tighter seam running down between them, threatening to rip his boxers clean off his frame. From bubbles to globes, he was certainly packing a hefty rear – it was unlikely it would ever go unnoticed in any trousers again. Gavin could hardly keep his balance, with his rake-thin body atop such godly legs. With his much-enhanced stride, it was only a couple of paces to his desk, where he pulled out his chair and sat down. He couldn’t believe it, looking down, seeing the sheer size of the pillars stretching out from him. His thighs were rubbing up against each other, for God’s sake, fighting for room even while fully extended. They must have been thirty five inches round, at least! However, this awe was quickly turning to frustration as he caught sight of his meagre torso. What the hell was he supposed to do like this? Even staying standing up was a huge effort. “I’m a freak,” he whispered, the confusion returning with a vengeance, “a fucking freak.” These emotions continued to swirl around, hotter and hotter, until they were practically burning a hole through his chest. Still they battled, rampaging out until they filled his body with a scalding fire. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Why was this even happening? So caught up in these thoughts, Gavin barely noticed his chest beginning to rise. Every heaving breath he took, it was as if his chest refused to fall back down, mounding into two distinct pecs that began to pulse as they grew. Soon, they were the size of dinner plates, bouncing and stretching with the rhythm of his body. Soon, they were more like manhole covers, as thick and solid as the steel out in the streets. His nipples were struggling to keep up, getting tighter and tighter even as they thickened, but quickly becoming overwhelmed and forced downward by the expanding meat imposing upon them. This same shelf loomed heavily over Gavin’s abdomen, which in a similar manner to the thighs, was beginning to show faint lines pressed against the skin. The first mighty bricks had already begun to take form beneath his booming pecs, with the edges continuously being tightened and redefined as any remaining fat was cast out. Below these two, another two appeared, then another two, squashing against each other for room, sending ripples out beneath his ribs where diamond-cut obliques were already exerting their presence. Finally, another two bricks completed the rack, tempering his stomach into an indomitable wall which tensed and clenched in perfect formation. Another crack caused Gavin to bend forward, abs folding in on themselves as his pecs came down to kiss his knees. His back had begun to thrust outward, hard mountains pressing up beneath the skin as the map widened… and widened… and widened. Without thinking, he pulled his arms up, wrapping his gigantic hands around his head; this afforded his lats room to take flight, bowing out in a magnificent sweep that fed into the glory of his back spread. Before long, his shoulder blades had almost been lost under the sheets of muscle adorning them, and his spine lined the bottom of a canyon separating the two tectonic plates. With the widening of his back, his shoulders had followed suit, broadening in tandem as they rounded out, from cannon balls to bowling balls, the definition scored into his skin around the hunks of muscle. Traps that had lain dormant rose higher, higher, practically choking his scrawny neck as they bullied their way up towards his ears. Still in their raised position, his arms had begun to bulge. Where once he’d wielded twigs, now Gavin was growing guns of monstrous capability. The veins from his hands were flowing up through his forearms, filling them with blood, with energy, as they rounded out, striations rippling along them like waves. His biceps were already showing their split, thickening, spreading, feeding on the power being force-fed into them as they reared up. The juiciest veins of all snuggled tightly against the peaks, while his triceps hulked out beneath to form a mighty horseshoe hold around the bone. Another spasm flung Gavin back into his seat, and he raised his head, letting out a long moan that began to growl as his throat widened. At last, the elixir-like blood had found his neck, broadening the column as the veins began to funnel life up and down. A sudden surge thrust his Adam’s apple forth, creating a deep crevasse down to his collarbone that throbbed with power. His voice, already deeper than ever, began to thicken in tone; harder, rawer, more bestial with every moment, until his initial cry had given way to a fully-fledged roar that shook the foundations of the room. At last, Gavin felt the force begin to ebb. His breaths were coming out in heavy grunts, and he could feel the titanic efforts of the lungs beneath his swollen pecs, gulping in oxygen to be ferried around his new form. For a few moments, the deep sound of his breathing was all that filled the silence, but then a hurried knock came from the door. “Gavin? Everything alright?” Fuck, he thought, rising to his feet unsteadily, unused to his new mass. Not now, Chris. The mirror above the drawers had begun to clear, and even through the dark cloud, he could make out his figure filling the glass. He was huge… easily as big as the silhouette he’d seen earlier. Another knock at the door. “What’s going on in there? Gav?” As he stepped towards the mirror, Gavin felt an odd tightness seize his jaw. It pressed down, thickening out the bone, while raising his cheeks to accentuate the hardening edge. With another step, this tightness moved up his face; pulling at his lips to puff them out, widening the set of his nose, and forcing his brow forward and down. Upon reaching the mirror, an odd click sounded from his mouth. He opened it, and immediately noted the perfectly straight teeth, no longer chipped. His tongue lolled back behind them, incredibly thick and strong, with his tip teasing the tops of his canines, which definitely appeared sharper than usual. On top of his head, his short ginger bristles had thickened out, flowing back in a short fiery mane that ended halfway down his neck, where it met the same initial stubble; only now, it was definitely more than scruff. It was his eyes, however, that most captured his attention. Gone were the murky browns of old – neon green bulbs gazed back at him from the mirror. “Is this… me?” He could hardly believe it, and began to feel his face, his hair, his shoulders. Everything was real to the touch, and was shown as clearly in his reflection. Knock knock. “Gavin?” A new urge had begun to rise within him. He could feel it bubbling just beneath the skin, weighing on his bones, throbbing at the back of his mind. Flex. It started small, but became quickly more urgent, pounding against him with insistent blows. Flex. As he reached across his torso, he watched the mound of his arm rise up, tensing, the rippling sinew practically bursting at the seams. So powerful. Flex! Without him even thinking, his left pec bounced, rolling over itself with a wave that could dash boats against cliffs. Before he could stop it, his right pec repeated the motion… then his left… then his right… passing the motion between them like a slow, steady, bulging tennis match. Flex! He lifted himself up onto his toes, relishing the stre-e-etch in each part of his legs as the muscles rose, colossal, dominant. FLEX! Unleashing another fearsome roar, Gavin pulled his body tightly inwards, pushing each part to an extreme as his new mass came together in a hulking symphony of awe. He could see a spark dancing in his reflection’s eyes – something savage, wild, had taken hold of them. It had taken hold of him! He could feel it, pulsing through him with his blood, bringing him almost to the brink of ecstasy off his own power. “What a rush.” Knock knock knock. “Gavin, seriously, answer me!” He relaxed his body, rolling his shoulders back as his heels touched the ground. A grin appeared on his face. Hardly his first choice, sure, but why bother hanging around? The beast had to be sated. Gavin slowly turned, and began making his way to the door. With each pace, his cock began to pump up, began to swell beyond any size it had ever been. Eight inches… nine inches… His underwear, already under considerable strain from his massive glutes, was tenting beyond belief at the front. Ten inches… eleven inches… Rips were beginning to appear around the crotch as his meat became more and more engorged. Twelve inches… thirteen inches… His underwear was barely hanging on at this point, leaving nothing to the imagination as the protruding outline of his shaft pressed out against the fabric. Fourteen inches… fifteen inches… RRRRRRRIIIIIPPPPP! Finally freed, his erection bobbed hungrily along with his paces, swollen bull balls swinging menacingly beneath. At last, Gavin reached the door, and drew himself up. Fuck, he was bigger than the door now. No matter. “Gavin?” - END -
  18. Donuts & Karma by Ultrabeef Caleb walked quickly out of the coffee shop, his pale cheeks now beet red. His tousled reddish hair askew and his black frame glasses fogging up as they encountered the harsh frigid winter hair. Caleb pulled his black parka closer around his thin wiry frame and scurried across the desolate campus toward his apartment. He kept replaying the events of the last hour over and over in his mind as he braced himself against the biting wind. He was completely humiliated, and still in shock. Just an hour ago he had been in what he thought was a happy relationship. His boyfriend Bryce had been like a godsend to him. They had met their freshman year when they were assigned as roommates. Bryce was of Asian desent and an Engineering major, while Caleb, the pale redhead, was a Math major. When they discovered they both were gay and attracted to each other, the rest was history, as they say. But lately Bryce had become interested in fitness and working out and with his Asian genetics had actually packed quite a bit of muscle onto his once slender frame. As his muscle tone grew, so did a new cocky, arrogant, and hurtful attitude toward Caleb. "You are so puny! Why don't you hit the gym?" Was a frequent question Bryce asked of his boyfriend prompting Caleb to start joining him in the campus gym. But it was no good. Caleb didn't have an athletic bone in his body. No matter how much Caleb tried to workout out or how many weight gainer shakes he choked down, he stayed pretty much the same. Today, when Bryce asked to meet him at the campus coffee shop, Caleb had no idea what was in store. Bryce was already there when Caleb arrived, his thick muscular arms straining the sleeves of his black t-shirt, Caleb noticed the veins snaking acros Bryce's biceps and the line between his smooth pecs showing from his v-neck shirt. He was looking especially irritated but hot as well, his lips pouting out as he checked his iWatch causing his meaty pecs to bounce. Bryce looked up and snickered "About time scrawny! I was beginning to think the wind blew you away!" Caleb sheepishly took a seat at the table with Bryce, muttering "Sorry..." under his breath. In short order Bryce revealed that he simply wasn't attracted to Caleb anymore. He liked big muscular guys and in fact he had been secretly dating one for the past month. As he spoke a huge muscular black guy walked over and kissed Bryce. "You ok sweetie?" the hulking adonis cooed at Bryce. "Yeah, just saying goodbye to my ex DeShawn" Bryce motioned to Caleb whose mouth was hanging open. The guy was huge, easily a pro level bodybuilder. His tight red stringer tank and gray shorts struggled to contain his massive ebony muscles. Caleb could see the attraction for Bryce. DeShawn was a thick, jacked college aged bodybuilder and based on the obscene bulge in his shorts, Caleb knew he had him beat in every department. DeShawn looked at Caleb uneasily and then turned to Bryce. "This is your ex?" Bryce nodded grabbing DeShawn's thick beefy arm and running his finger down the bulging vein snaking across his bicep. "Sorry dude. I didn't know..." DeShawn trailed off and looked at Caleb with embarrassment as Bryce wrapped his arm around the big guy and laughed "Don't worry about him sexy! He'a WAY too small for me! Come on stud". Then the two muscular guys left the coffee shop arm in arm. Caleb was stunned. He had no idea his boyfriend had been cheating on him. What had just happened? As Caleb staggered toward the door of the coffee shop in a daze, tears starting to well up in his eyes he bumped into a small, strangely dressed woman; knocking her coffee cup out of her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry...so sorry..." Caleb mumbled breathlessly trying to hold back his tears. As he struggled on the floor mopping up the womab's coffee with a pile of napkins he had grabbed from a nearby table. the woman placed her cold clammy hand on Caleb's forehead and spoke in a thick foreign accent "I am sorry boy. Sorry you aren't big enough to be with the one you love." Caleb stammered in embarassment, his cheeks burning bright red. "I...I'm not sure...what you overheard...but..." Silence!" the woman growled with authority and shoved a small, greasy, brown bag into Caleb's hand. "This will give you what you want." Caleb opened the bag and saw what looked like a few greasy donut holes in the bag. "What the heck...?" Caleb started to say but the woman was gone. Stranger still, the coffee that had spilled on the floor was gone too. A chill ran down Caleb's spine. He grabbed the bag of donut holes and headed out into the frigid tundra toward home. Once home Caleb sat down to watch a movie on Netflix to try to get his mind off of Bryce but it wasn't really working. Caleb was really upset and mindlessly reached for the crazy old lady's bag of donut holes next to him on the beat up sofa. He popped two into his mouth, wiping the greasy reside onto his once clean white Oxford shirt. They were sweet and tasted good. As Caleb continued to browse Netflix he could feel his somach rumbling and he started to feel nauseous. Caleb looked over at the greasy donut bag and realized that there must have been something in the donuts. How stupid could he be to eat food from some crazy, mysterious stranger. Caleb was feeling warm and realized that although the room was warm, he was starting to sweat. It felt like his body was getting fuller, heavier. As he looked down he could see his legs straining against the fabric of his skinny jeans, his legs seemingly twice as thick as they had been just minutes before. "Wh...what the heck?" Caleb reached down and touched his thickening quads feeling the thick hard muscle struggling against the denim of his jeans. Caleb's attention was now occupied by his hands that were expanding and starting to look like big powerful paws. They looked ridiculous attached to his spindly arms; but suddenly his arms thickened straining the sleeves of his button down shirt as his pecs started to swell and bulge forcing a button to pop open. Suddenly the growth had stopped. Caleb moaned in pleasure as his body beefed up with new muscle. He could fill his once adequate dick bulging against his jeans and start to snake down his leg. With some difficulty Caleb lumbered toward the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and gasped. He looked so different. Gone was the skinny twink, staring back at him was a beefy college jock with clothes that looked ready to burst. Caleb struggled to remove his clothes and examined the results of the donuts. He was totally jacked with striated dense muscles straining against his pale ivory skin. He had the body a physique model would kill for. The weight of his plump pecs forced his large nipples toward the ground. His bulging arms radiated strength and power with purple veins crisscrossing them. His waist was still small and tight with a six pack showing through. As he turned sideways he could see his ass had grown into a cute bubble butt that flare down into his thick quads. Caleb cupped his bigger ass and bit his lip trying to hold back the waves of pleasure at feeling his hard, big butt. He marveled at his beefy pecs and tight six pack and almost lost it when his thick hand grazed his large sensitive nipple. Caleb flexed in the mirror and felt his big, hard biceps causing his dick to swell and stand at attention. His dick was much bigger with his auburn public hair denser and firming a treasure trail up to his navel. Caleb could see that the hair in his armpits was bushier as well. It was more than he could take. Caleb started stroking his big dick and finally letting out a groan of pure ecstasy, came all over the bathroom mirror. Caleb's first thought after cleaning up was Bryce. Although Caleb was no where close to the size of Bryce's huge new crush, DeShawn, but maybe this new muscle would be enough to salvage the only relationship he had ever had. Caleb struggled to find clothes to fit his new thicker frame, squeezing into some baggy jeans he had leftover from his high school skater phase. They just barely fit, looking like skinny jeans clinging to his meaty thighs and bubble butt. As Caleb searched through his shirts, he marveled at how his thighs now rubbed against each other, a totally new sensation for him. He squeezed into a once baggy t-shirt that now hugged his wider shoulders and chest. His thick arms filled out the sleeves nicely. He looked like an actual college jock, although one wearing dated, too tight clothes. As he crossed the campus quad Caleb could feel the stares of girls (and guys). Usually he walked around campus practically invisible, unnoticed, but not today. His parka didn't fit over his new bigger body but Caleb didn't even feel the cold. He felt so much bigger yet inside he felt just as small and weak as ever. The way Bryce had dumped him had really shattered his confidence. Caleb walked up the steps to Bryce's apartment and saw what must have been DeShawn's white pick-up truck parked out front. Caleb knocked on the door with some hesitation. Moments later the door swung open and there stood Bryce, shirtless, his perfect pecs and abs on full display. "Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Bryce snickered. "Who is it babe?" DeShawn called out from inside the apartment. "It's no one", Bryce called back. "Wait. Bryce. Can't we work this out. I loved you for all those years! You mean everything to me! And I even got bigger for you. See." Caleb flexed his arms in a double bicep pose to show off his improved physique to his ex. But Bryce was unimpressed. "Nice. But too little, too late, I'm afraid." Just then DeShawn came up behind Bryce. He was shirtless as well and completely filled the doorway with his black sexy pecs and boulder shoulders. He was so much bigger than Bryce. "I thought you said it was no one?" DeShawn looked at Caleb sheepishly. "Well, it is!" Bryce laughed maniacally as he ushered DeShawn back inside. Caleb, tears in his eyes turned and ran off the porch. DeShawn looked out the window at Caleb running away, his powerful legs and butt propelling him forward. "He looks different. Is he bigger?" DeShawn asked with interest. "Who cares big boy?" Bryce sneered. "Well, he looks good!" DeShawn rubbed the scruff on his chin causing his huge bicep to swell. Bryce just grinned taking DeShawn's face in his hand and kissing him passionately on the lips, "not as good looking as you stud!" Caleb ran across campus, tears streaming down his face. He was humiliated, hurt, and angry. He had loved Bryce but now that love was gone and Caleb had no idea what to do. Before he knew it, he was back home. He was barely out of breath. The old Caleb would have been winded walking to the corner let alone running all the way across campus. Caleb seethed with anger and his ex and his own foolishness at trying to make things work between them. As Caleb entered his apartment he saw the greasy bag of donuts still on the kitchen counter where he had left them. "Bryce wants big, I'll show him big!" Caleb grabbed the remaining donut holes and shoved them in his mouth. Washing them down with some cold milk right from the carton. Only after he swallowed and milk ran down his face did his head clear enough for his anger to subside and the realization of what he had just done set in. Fear crept into Caleb's brain. "Oh shit! What did I just do?" Caleb moaned as he clutched his stomach in pain. He winced and groaned in agony as his muscles began to spasm and swell. Sweat drenched his clothes and dripped from his forehead as he struggled to not pass out. "Urrgghh! Fuuucck!" Caleb grunted out as the forceful spasms dropped him to his knees. Caleb struggled to crawl across the floor to the bathroom as his body was racked with pain. He knew his only hope of stopping the pain was to try to throw up the pills. As he crawled he could feel his body swelling up with bigger, thicker, stronger muscles. He heard his jeans rip open and shred as his bourgeoning ass and quads exposed themselves to the cool air. His back swelled ripping his shirt straight up the back as he crawled toward the bathroom door. His swelling arms and shoulders shredded his shirt completely as he reached the door. Caleb grabbed the counter with his now huge meaty paw and pulled himself up the pain subsiding. He was too late. Caleb glanced toward the mirror to see what the effect of those donut holes had been. He was so much bigger and heavier now. As he looked at his reflection and gasped, "oh fuck!" His now deep rumbling bass exclaimed. His back was impossibly wide, filling the entire mirror. His bulging traps surrounded his wide, thick neck. He barely looked human anymore as mound of bulging muscle led to mound of bulging muscle. His huge arms flared out to the sides, held upright by his swollen lats that flared out like thick beefy wings. His waist was no longer small but appeared so by the mass of his shoulders and lats. His abs formed a thick 8 pack and distended into a big muscle gut. As he turned Caleb saw that his ass had grown as well into a huge thick manly muscle ass. His legs were so huge that they forced each other apart. Even Caleb's face was different. More masculine with a wide, strong jaw and high cheekbones setting off his full lips. With his glasses and reddish hair covering one eye, he looked like a nerd who went crazy overdosing with steroids. Reddish hair lightly covered his chest and abs and the bush sprouting from his armpits and crotch was dense and thick. Sexy reddish scruff dusted his jaw line. Something else had changed within Caleb along with his voice and appearance; he was no longer afraid or timid. He was an uber stud of a man. Just the thought of this made his huge fat cock leak precum. Gone was the cute, twinky math major. Caleb was easily the biggest man he had ever seen. As he flexed his freaky vein-draped arms and bounced his big juicy pecs Caleb roared and spewed gallons of cum all over the bathroom and himself. As he ran his finger across his chest and tasted his own cum, Caleb smirked in the mirror. It was time for his revenge. Caleb knew that nothing he owned would fit his huge new body. He found a ridiculously huge pair of white gym shorts his senile grandma had given him last Christmas and squeezed into them. They looked painted on and could barely contain his huge veiny quads. The white shorts clung to each huge meaty cheek of his magnificent ass and did little to hide his massive cock. Caleb could care less, the newly minted ginger muscle hunk smirked a cocky grin as he headed across campus to the coffee shop. The winter air was nothing to his powerful body. People on campus just pointed and stared in awe at the scantily clad freakish muscle beast walking across campus. Caleb knew Bryce's routine and that he would be at the coffee shop. Sure enough as he approached, Bryce and DeShawn were just coming out. They both looked so small compared to Caleb. Even DeShawn the bodybuilder who had seemed so huge to Caleb earlier, looked puny now. Caleb confidently strode up behind them. "You runts better hit the gym instead of the coffee shop". Bryce spun around to see who dared talk to him that way and came face to face with Caleb's massive pec. Purple stretch marks snaking across it's veiny striated surface. "Umm...I..." Bryce stammered. "Am I big enough for you now "sweetie"?" Caleb rumbled in his new bass, his voice laced with sarcasm and hurt. "C...C...Caleb?!" Bryce stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "But...how?!" DeShawn's eyes grew wide too "Oh fuck! Oh my god. So fucking big..." DeShawn moaned, his cock swelling up in his sweats as he took in Caleb's new freakish size. "Oh my god! Caleb...it...but how?!" Bryce moaned getting hard himself at the pure beefy mass of his former twink boyfriend. "I know you like your guys buff, "sweetie" Caleb sarcastically purred. Bryce mumbled, blushing in front of the mountainous Caleb. "You're so big!! So hot!! You did this all for me?" Caleb smirked an evil grin. "In a sense. Yes." Bryce was at a loss for words. His hand reached out to touch Caleb's swollen pec when Caleb forcefully batted it away with his meaty paw, almost knocking Bryce over in the process. "You know, I think you're way to puny for me bro" Caleb smirked using Bryce's own words against him. Shock and panic crossed across Bryce's face. Caleb strode over to DeShawn and playfully grabbed DeShawn's engorged, leaking cock in his shorts. "You in the market for new boyfriend cutie?" DeShawn just gulped and nodded yes, total lust in his eyes. "Let's go DeShawn" Caleb playfully smacked DeShawn's bubble butt as DeShawn wrapped both hands around Caleb's tree trunk arm, shooting his load and moaning loudly "oh fuck!" as he came in contact with Caleb's huge, thick, powerful muscle. As the mammoth Caleb strode away with his new black bodybuilder boyfriend, DeShawn looked back at Bryce's confused and devastated face. "But, what about him?" DeShawn sheepishly asked. "Well, karma's a bitch" Caleb laughed as he pulled DeShawn's face into his bulbous pec, kissing him deeply on the lips. DeShawn, in a total state of bliss, laughed. "Yep, it sure is!" The two studs sauntered away toward Caleb's apartment.
  19. (Astromuscle: Commission for @Morphfan. He had some drawings he wanted a story to accompany. He can post the pictures if he chooses to or not. Had a lot of fun writing this so I'm sorry if I took it anywhere you didn't want it to go. Also sorry if anything about Ben is wrong) Show me what I want “A magic shop? That sounds silly.” I couldn't believe the turn that had just happened. I was out on this date with this cute boy. Taller than me by quite a few inches, he was lanky and kind of awkward. I would definitely appreciated if he had had some more meat on his bones, but one couldn't afford to be too picky. His awkwardness was adorable, but why did he seem so excited about this? We had found each other on a dating site, so I suggested meeting up somewhere public. We ended up settling on an early afternoon stroll down a boardwalk. Our city was famous for the extreme variety that could be found here, including a shop that did not look dreary as much as dark and odd. It was slightly off-putting. Apparently Sam didn't share my sentiments, as he pulled my arm a little. I tried to pull away a little, but he was so excited. Despite being taller than me, he had no facial hair and was thin all throughout. It altogether made a very cute picture, which eventually got me to drop my guard and let myself be dragged into the shop. The door was heavy I could tell from the way Sam strained to push it in, and clearly had quite the closing mechanism as it swung shut on me, and then behind me once I myself slipped in. The inside of the shop was much like what I expected. Cluttered and messy, though there was space to walk. If there was an organization system then I couldn't see one. Nick-knacks and do dads filled shelves or hung from the ceiling. The room we had entered into was not amazingly lit, but wasn't dark per say. It was however dulled a little by the visible wafts of smoke that were visible in the room. Once I noticed them I started to panic and instinct took over as I pushed past Sam's body to look into an adjacent room for any others. I was half just looking for anyone else, but also my mind couldn't help but think that the shop might actually be on fire. I went to part the curtain divider when a thin, almost ghostly white hand moved it just ahead of me. A very tall, thin man in what I could only associate as a kimono stepped out. A smoking pipe led the way, clearly causing the wisps I had seen. The man used his momentum to walk right past me with a turn to avoid colliding. He moved gracefully and purposefully over to Sam. He seemed to stare into Sam's eyes for a second, forcing Sam to look up to meet them, but quickly broke the connection and backed up to take us both in. “Welcome.” was the only word he said. He had taken his pipe out of his mouth and had a slight but pleasant smile as he bowed slightly to the two of them. I breathed in and choked on the smoke a little. The shopkeeper moved over to help me. He used his hands to steady me until my coughing fit passed. “Sorry, smoking is a bad habit of mine. I almost never get visitors, so I am not too worried about taking it outside.” He proceeded to empty his pipe into a box, which he closed and then lifted the lid off of an ornate vase. “So what can I help you too strapping gents with today?” His voice was cool yet smooth, like river water. “We were just looking. I actually dragged my date over there in. I have never seen proper magic before. It just looked curious is all.” Sam looked a little disappointed about just being a browser, but the man seemed perfectly merry to have them there anyways. The man took him lightly behind the arm and led him across to me. “That is perfectly all right Sam. I often find browsers to be the most interesting of customers. It's one thing to know what you want coming in, it's another to find something you didn't know you wanted.” He looked over at me. Deep purple eyes stared back as he fixed me with a considerably longer glance than he had Sam. It was unnerving, but at the same time his beautiful purple eyes held me in their grasp. I shuddered, until he eventually looked over at Sam who was browsing the shelf behind us. I had to breathe heavy to recover from that slight encounter. The air tasted clean now, somehow. The shopkeeper looked over to Sam. “Sam I am going to take Ben into the back. I am going to give him a tarot reading while you peruse. You can handle the items if you like, just leave any closed containers closed... for all our sake's. He gave a mischievous smile at that as he moved over to the curtained door and motioned me in. I didn't want to go. The shopkeeper laughed a little chuckle, but something about all of it drew me in. Sam however seemed engrossed in what he was looking at, so I went over anyways. The man held the curtain for me, and we both walked through, the curtain dropping behind us, only draping about halfway down the door-less opening. Inside was a lounge with couches and even a TV. The focus of the room however was the table in the center. It was square and not large but enough for two people to sit at, which he clearly wanted me to do. I sat at the close side and he went around to the other. Out of a deep pocket on his dress he pulled a deck of cards out. He fanned them out across the table face-down, and then flipped the bottom card, causing them all to flip in sequence. A perfect arch of cards, identically spaced. They all clearly had different pictures, though none of the pictures were discernible but the end card, which was death. I finally spoke up. “I really would rather not have a tarot reading.” The shopkeeper smiled warmly at me as his ghost white hand reached over the table to me. “Why so afraid?” I don't know what conveyed me to speak. “The future scares me. Its so vast and unknowing, but the only thing that comforts me about it is that it is not set in stone. It can be changed. I can work out of any situations I get into, and have done so.” The shopkeeper seemed to weigh what I said. “That is perfectly reasonable. We don't have to tell your future, the cards can reveal whatever we need them to, they are but a vessel. The magic, as your friend would put it, comes from us.” He used his outstretched hand to indicate them. “Your friend over there, Sam, he grew up in a country village. They were not accepting of his sexual orientation so he kept it hidden. He however didn't mind that he was different, he thrived on it. He feels an attraction towards the queer and the odd. That is why a magic shop would catch his fancy.” I took the words at face value. I knew he must have been guessing, and made a mental note to ask Sam later. It then hit me that he had used both of our names, though we hadn't told him them. I froze in my seat. That was impossible. Again those purple eyes stared back at me. “Relax. It is tough to take in, but these odd things that inhabit our world can be wonderful too. I won't stop you from leaving, but I truly do believe you will not be disappointed if you play tarot with me.” I unfroze in my seat and began to move, but he called after me, “We don't have to view the future, we could look into why you can't keep a boyfriend.” I stopped as I reached for the curtain. “Fear, or admiration for what you have seen and heard, you do respect it, don't you. It's not always as the stories say. Not all magics will bite you for using them.” He seemed to chuckle at that, but he still looked warm and inviting as I retook my seat. He extended his hand to me once more, and I placed my hand into it. He gently cupped it with his other hand as well as he pulled me across the table, causing me to lean. “Close your eyes and concentrate only on the feeling in your hand.” I did as he said. “Now I am going to drag you hands along the cards three times, I am going to ask you a question each time. You are infusing you own magic into the cards. They will beckon to you, and you will leave an imprint on them.” I nodded slightly, only thinking of the circles one of his long cold fingers were drawing in my palm. He pulled my hand to where I remembered the death card being. “Show me the person you want.”My hand gently caressed the cards, barely moving any of them as he guided my hand along and up at the end. “Show me what stands in the way.” backwards now, my hand glided along the cards, more moving with it now as we brushed against the cards this time. “Now lastly, find who you want to be yourself.” I once more felt that cards as they responded to my hand. After that the man gave me back my hand and told me to open my eyes. I did so only to find he had already flipped the cards. He used the table to place them all in a neat pile then placed them in a deck between us. He placed one hand over the deck. His purple eyes began to glow as smoke swirled around him, and a magic circle appeared around the deck. I yelped a little, but Sam didn't come running. After a couple of seconds the display faded, the man moved his hand off the deck. “Sorry if I scared you again. I was boosting your own abilities. We all have magic in us, but those of us who practice it regularly have more of a store of it. With that he took the cards again, and fanned them face-down once more. “Repeat after me. Show me the person I want.” “Show me the person I want.” Before my eyes cards began to glow blue. The shopkeep pulled them out of the deck and flipped them over to me. Strength came up first which made me laugh, then the knight of swords who looked intense as he charged into battle. Then there were the lovers both staring into each others eyes. “You want someone strong. Someone who can take charge but is disciplined and controlled. You want someone to love. You aren't looking for just lust, love should be there too.” I nodded at it all. He waited for me to look up at him, then continued. “Show me what stands in the way.” “Show me what stands in the way.” Again cards glowed, but this time they were deep red. The man flipped them all over as well. The high priestess, the 2 of pentacles, the 2 of wands, the knight of pentacles all came up, but they were upside down. The last card that was flipped was the 7 of wands, an angry man holding a wand as if trying to stick it into the ground hard next to the other 6. I reached to flip the cards right side up, but he stopped me. “They are upside down to indicate the opposite meaning of the cards. The high priestess and the 2's represent balance. You seem pretty grounded so I imagine it's the people you date who are imbalanced. The knight is supposed to represent patience, and dependability. He is reversed to, though. The 7 of wands is a card of aggression, and even defiance.” He seemed to wait for me. “What do you think it means. I have my guess but you are the one who knows yourself best, I am just helping bring it to the surface.” I sighed, thinking. “Strength, and a knight. I am attracted to large people. In my dreams I picture bodybuilders and athletes, and I picture them taking me into their strong arms. It's not always sexual, just the warmth, the feel, and the protection they give off.” I was lost in myself, but the shopkeep across the table made no move to snap me out. “You said half those upside down cards meant balance. I can't find the guy who is strong and protective, but sweet and caring. I want patience, dependability, but I get him.” I pointed at the man on the 7 of wands. “I get the angry man who wants his time. They are vain. Maybe I am too for my tastes.” The shopkeep reached over and lifted my face. You deserve to have someone you are attracted to both physically and emotionally. You are allowed to want both. Are you dating Sam out there? “It's our first date. I like him for who he is. He is sweet and awkward which is cute. He does truly care, but isn't possessive. He isn't bad looking either.” The shopkeeper nodded along with what I was saying. “It sounds like you are going more for the emotional connection side of things. That's why I wouldn't call you vain. You have a type, but like you said he's attractive. The physical things are always so much easier to change anyways. I bet if you asked him -” He cut off there as Sam spread the curtain. “You guys were taking a bit so I thought I would check in. How is it going?” He looked at all the cards on the table already, but I don't think he understood what they represented. That was a relief. The shopkeep got up and brought another chair over to the table. “We were just finishing up. I don't think Ben here would mind if you saw the last prediction.” I thought about it, but I nodded. It was only about me after all. As he sat down and looked, I didn't even wait for the man in the kimono to speak. “Show me who I want to be myself.” Cards glowed yellow and Sam's eyes went wide, but a smile came unbidden to him. He was loving this. All the cards from the first draw lit up, as well as one solitary card in the deck. Strength, the knight of swords, lovers. The shopkeep gave me a raised eyebrow to which I blushed. Sam was busy asking both of us what that meant as I reached for the card in the deck to flip it. My heart froze as before me was a card I knew was never in any tarot deck ever. On the card were 2 bodybuilders, one slightly smaller than the. Both laid in a bed together, the smaller with his head on the other's pec. Sam looked confused, and then embarrassed as he put the pieces together. He looked down at his own unimpressive chest, and let out a sigh. Dammit, I hadn't meant to hurt him. I looked over at the shopkeep but he looked like a casual observer. Sam was not looking at me. I grabbed his hand and kissed it. “Sam, I don't know you well yet, but know that I have enjoyed our time together so far, and I don't care what these cards say. You are sweet and I like that. You don't need big muscles for me to be into you. Look here, these cards were the ones of why I am not dating a guy like that now. They never satisfy me. I want someone I can talk to and will listen. I want someone who is receptive. I want someone sweet. Muscles are just physical anyways. I want a relationship, not meaningless sex.” Sam was beginning to look up at me. “If I wanted sex, I would have just downloaded Tinder. I wouldn't have wanted to walk with you on a boardwalk. I want to know who you are.” Sam looked over at the shopkeeper, who nodded in acknowledgment. A smile crept onto his face as he regained his composure. “Ya, I guess everyone has those extreme urges right?” I told him that was right, but out of the corner of my eyes I saw the taller man's mouth gape. He regained his smooth visage quickly, but I had to wonder what he had seen. I had a knot in my stomach though he gave me a sidelong glance and a smirk. The knot didn't go away. Sam indicated that he was ready to leave. I got up with him. The shopkeep collected his cards and bid them farewell. Sam admitted once they left that that had been weird and maybe not the best idea, but I looked back and just reassured him. They went to get a smoothie to which they both got a protein boost and laughed as they drank. When I went to pay I noticed two things. Firstly, all of my money had disappeared and in it's place two tiny vials were in my pocket, as well as a piece of paper. During the rest of our walk I casually asked where Sam had grown up, and he gave me essentially the same story the store owner had said, not that I needed more convincing. Eventually we sat down and I got a chance to read the note. “As I said, the physical things are the easiest things to change. Have fun.” On the other side was a printed out receipt for 125$ for the two vials. That's how much I was missing. Motherfucker! Sam leaned over my shoulder and read it, then snatched a vial from me. I went after him, still holding one of them, but he held it up to high for me to reach. I tried to jump for it, but it didn't work. “Look Ben. You already paid for these. We may as well use them. Sam brought the vial to his lips.” “STOP!” I shouted, attracting a bit of attention from those around us. Sam did however stop before he drank. “Ben, I think you do want both of us to drink these.” Despite what he said, he did hand the vial back to me. “But if you are that adamant, it doesn't matter to me. I have enjoyed our date, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” I took the vial back. I looked up at him, and he just smiled back. I sat down, and he came to sit next to me. He put his arm around me and I let myself be pulled in. “Ben I am sorry I bothered you so much. I was just playing with you a bit. If we bring the vials back to the shop he might give you a refund.” I just laid there, thinking. I held in my hands, what I expected could turn both of us into muscle freaks. None of my past boyfriends would have given them back if I had asked. They would have been thirsty for it. Here Sam was. He had wanted it, I could tell, but he cared more for what I thought. “Sam, I have only just met you. You could be the one I want to be with forever, or someone I never see after today. In those moments, when you had the vial in your hand, and you saw me use it and gave it back. In that moment you showed more consideration for me, more care and love than any guy I have ever dated. I would like to think I could have done the same thing, but I don't know it would have been tough. Sam, would you be willing to drink this with me?” Sam took the vial from me again. Sam looked over and down at me as we sat on the bench, his arm around me still. “Ben, I can see you have a big heart too, don't sell yourself short.” With that he raised my other hand with the vial to clink them together with. I looked at both the vials, my heart racing, then into his face. It was sweet and happy and caring. I was at ease. I swung my hand back and downed the contents of the vial, an then Sam did so a second after. The liquid took a second on my tongue before I could taste it. It was disgusting! I quickly grabbed my smoothie and sucked it back as fast as possible. Sam's face began to look confused, but before he could finish it hit him too and he did the same. Finally I ran out of smoothie. The taste had passed slightly, but was still there. I expected brain freeze to set in, but I actually was feeling rather warm. Sam was actually beginning to sweat. I brought my hand up, and I noticed I was too. Sam was wide-eyed, but turned his head over to me as he smiled faintly. Then I felt my arms swell. At first it just felt like blood was rushing into it, but then I saw the muscles develop. My biceps came up further and further as my triceps pushed out the back at the same time. Sam was doing everything he could to keep his cool in public as his torso extended higher, and thickened a little. His arms were also pumping bigger as they got further apart because of his back stretching out. As I noticed it on him, I also became aware that my body was doing the same thing. It occurred to me too late that maybe the bench on the boardwalk was not the ideal place, but it was happening now. Sam looked over at me and apparently saw the same thing. He dove for me and I fell back on the bench, He used his muscled arms to support himself over me. They weren't bulky, but they were prominent and taught as he supported his weight over me on the thin bench. I myself was trying not to fall off as I stared up into his sweat-beaded brow. He was smiling, but the smile had lost some sweetness, it wasn't completely gone, but there was attraction in his eyes too. He didn't even care when a passing girl shouted for us to go get a room. I watched his chest creep towards me. His shoulders moved out more. It was so hot. Eventually I saw his arm spasm, and he fell off the front of the bench, thrown off balance. I hadn't realized that I had been using him for support, but as he fell away I also lost balance to and rolled on top of him. I had fallen on people before, it usually didn't bother them, but Sam let out a breath as my new weight hit him in the gut. He looked up at me and we both laughed. I focused and got up. The feelings of growth were still there, but I was accustomed to them now. I got my balance, then held out a hand to help Sam up. Sam used my hand to help give him momentum in standing. As he went up I got to see his unchanged face, then his thick neck. I began to see the crest of his pecs as he brought himself up to full height. For all of the feeling, we were still in our clothes, tight as they were. I couldn't help but stare at what my arm had become. Sam lifted his shirt to see his abs, realizing he had to lean forward a bit to see past his chest now. I still felt the growth slow and sure, and so I suggested we get out of where we were. We scrambled back up the boardwalk, trying to go for our cars. We passed by the magic shop and Sam froze again. Our clothes had not been tearing before, but they were about to. He stopped to stare at it, and I tried to convince him that we needed to get to my place. He looked over and considered what I said, but then began to slowly walk towards the shop. “Ben, we are about to burst out of our clothing and I doubt you have anything we could wear after that. He might help us, besides I have to know something.” Sam began towards the shop. I wanted to argue more, but I felt my sleeves rip a bit, and decided it wasn't the worst idea ever. We rushed in and closed the door behind us. It was easier to open now. Waiting at the front table stood the shopkeep smile across his face. He seemed pleased to see us, but also a bit expectant. “Welcome back boys. The back room has been cleared for you.” As we reached the room my sleeves ripped down the seams as I swung them. I couldn't believe Sam's shirt hadn't ripped yet, but it was just as hot to see the shirt hug every crevice, every rise and fall of his new back. I got inside and quickly removed my shirt, I ended up ripping it more as I took it off. Sam's shirt seemed to be constraining him. “Sam, flex and your shirt will rip. It's too tight for you.” Sam did as bidden, and his shirt ripped at almost every seam, and once along the back as he brought his arms forward. He breathed in relief as he removed the shreds of his clothes. I quickly worked on his pants as they looked like the next issue. They were tight, and it took the two of us to remove them. As I yanked them down, I got a full view of his package, pressed tightly against his underwear. It was so big. A thick shaft, still mostly soft pressed out front, with two large globes back up dancing for it as Sam huffed and puffed. Sam began working on my pants too, which snapped me out of my trance. They got caught on my quads, but flexing wasn't enough to undo the mess I was in. Sam got down and grabbed my shorts. He grunted as he ripped them right down the front. Then they fell down around me, hitting my calves as they passed. Then we were both almost naked in the living room of the shop. We breathed sighs of relief. Apparently the relief and calm was enough to cause the growth to redouble it's efforts. We both grunted as it hit us. I rushed to remove my underwear, and Sam followed my lead. I noticed my package for the first time since this whole thing had started. I had been average at best before, but now I had a dick to be impressed with. Sam's, now that I had a nice view of it, was impressive as well. Getting harder by the minute it swung up. It was 7 inches, but it was getting bigger. My head hadn't grown much with the transformation, but any size would help if I ever had to put that in my mouth, and damn if I didn't want to. I couldn't take it. I knelt down and grabbed his ass in my hands. I noticed I had to actually stress my arms a little to force my arms together, but I could tell I had a lot more strength to use yet. I brought his ass in as I squeezed the hard round masses, forcing his dick into my mouth. It came to attention immediately, probably hitting 7.5 inches. As i sucked and worked his ass I felt him grow, and with it ever so slightly his dick grew in my mouth too. It was euphoric. He moaned as he leaned back. Abs galore greeted my eyes as I looked up. They progressively larger until it appeared a set 30 time larger than the last stuck out inches above, which was clearly his pecs. They heaved as he focused on breathing between the growth and the nearing orgasm. I grabbed my own dick and yanked it some too. He came in my mouth. He seemed to surge a little in growth. His legs lengthening a half an inch. I adjusted as I came over the floor myself. I swallowed his cum and cleaned his dick with my tongue. I removed my mouth and Sam regained his composure. Sam looked down at me. He was a beast. Massive and towering over me. He knelt down himself and looked me in the eyes. He looked at me with a lovey stare, smile still lighting up his face. He leaned in and kissed me, I closed my eyes and fell into the kiss. He pushed me backwards, and I wrapped my arms around his neck for support to avoid breaking the kiss. My back was now round from the muscle, and it rolled down slowly onto the ground as he lowered both of us to the ground. I heard his hands thud down as he adjusted. Eventually my chest, despite it's continued growth was being pressed in as another expanding chest pressed into it further and further to lay on top of me, but maintain our facial connection. We just stayed there for a bit, but then he pulled away to kiss further and further down on me. He spent some time on my nipple, but eventually moved on. Down my abs which had formed without my noticing. My dick sprang back to life a little. I began to get out, “I already came Sam, it's fine. I don't-” I was cut off as he took my still soft cock in his mouth and sucked deeply. I moaned and my dick got harder again. Sam spoke around my penis. “Ben, have you never had your favors returned? Let me pay you back for that just now.” No, no boyfriend yet had sucked me off. I was always a sub, and they were always doms. I had always heard it was common courtesy to return the favor of a blowjob, but they had always said that since they were dom they didn't do that. My dick went hard at the sensation I had given many times before. Sam worked over my dick with his tongue and lips. He rubbed my large pecs as he went. It was amazing as I slid back and forth on the ground as far as the tight skin covering my back muscles would allow. It didn't take long for me to cum. His eyes went wide as I filled him. He swallowed several times. And then got off me to lay out next to me. “Shit Ben, those balls can hold some cum. That was more than I have ever taken.” Sam laughed. I looked down. He was still taller than me. His slightly bigger feet stretched out further than mine as his head was in line with mine. I wiggled my toes. They looked foreign to me. His big hand came over and patted my core. It made a hard sound, one that could only come from having practically no fat on it. “I think we stopped growing.” He pointed out. I hadn't noticed, but now that he mentioned it I didn't feel hot anymore. We sat for a minute, until the owner came in. I suddenly began to get up and apologize, but he quieted me. “Relax, the shroud there is sound proof. I head nothing.” He looked over at where I had come on the ground. “I do hope I can ask you to clean up after yourself a little though.” He came over to the both of us. We stood up. He came behind us and patted us both on the back. Where he had been tall before, perhaps 6' 2” we now towered over him. He only came up to my shoulder, and would get a faceful of lower pec from Sam. As he came around us again, I noticed his hand glow purple. He looked into his hand and smiled. “As I thought. Ben could you give Sam and I a minute. I think he has some questions for me. Out front you will find a poser for you. It was the only thing in my shop that would fit you, but it's not magical, I promise.” I exited the room, giving the curtain a bit of a look as I passed, it didn't even go the whole way to the ground. I went into the other room and let the shroud come back down. I found the poser on the table, bright blue. It was huge, but once I picked it up I realized that it was perfectly sized for me. I put it on. It was tight, but I figured that was kind of the point. I found a mirror and posed in it. I was huge. Chest bulbous and sticking out, abs pronounced. My arms hung not quite straight down at either side of me. They were wide and even without flexing I could see if striation. Flexing made everything explode out and up. My biceps peaked high and my triceps pressed in and down. During my posing routine both of the other men walked out of the other room. Sam laughed as I awkwardly composed myself. He carried a bag, which he handed to me, consisting of our old clothes, and a wooden box he had under his arm. He had also gotten a bigger poser, his being red. It did nothing to hide his package, but it was technically underwear. They would get a lot of stares, but at least they wouldn't be arrested on the way to the car. As we left the store owner told us to have fun, but I looked back and noticed he was specifically talking to me, a tarot card in his hand. We both got to the parking lot, and I told him to follow my car to my place. We made it back to my place. The rest of the night was full of more talking and laughing about how our lives would be so different now. We ended up deciding that he would stay the night. In the morning I could ask a friend to by very large clothes for us, and then we could go find things that fit properly. We ate like animals. I kept making more food for us, and we ate it all up. Grocery shopping got added to the list tomorrow. Over dinner I asked about the wooden box. He took a defensive tone, but told me he would tell me later. We eventually finished with the eating, and played some games. We kept talking. We really had a connection. It became late however, and I mentioned we should probably go to bed. Sam looked lost, and I told him that he would of course be sharing my bed. We went into my room, him toting his box with him. We both sat in bed. I asked again what was in the box. Sam looked over at me, a little afraid. “Ok so clearly your kink, for lack of a better word, is for muscle right.” I nodded. “Well while I definitely am not unnattracted to that, and I am going to love showing up to work Monday like this” He brought an arm up and flexed it for me. I felt my penis stir in my poser. “I have my own, slightly weirder kink. This one is reversible, but if you are willing to give it a shot.” He opened the box. It was split into 2 compartments by a wooden divider. Both sides had leather cuffs, but one side had straps with some gold rings. I had seen it before in a couple of kinky pictures, but didn't really know anything about it. I picked up a cuff to examine it. Sam held his breath. “Is it magical?” I asked. He nodded, but seemed really nervous. I met his eyes and put on the cuff, then went in for the other one in the compartment. Sam gasped. “Don't you want to know what it does?” I looked over at him and tried to make the same sweet smile that he had given me so much today. “I trust you. I don't know if I will be into whatever happens, but I am willing to give it a shot. I have no idea how to put on that thing though. Do you mind wearing it?” I pointed at the strappy thing, and he quickly swung it on himself and tightened it. He picked up his own cuffs and put them on his wrist. He took off his poser revealing his large dick which was hardening with every heartbeat. I matched him, taking off my poser to reveal my hardening dick as well. He looked so expectant, and I couldn't help but get swept up in the mood. Suddenly he surged at me. We both tumbled off the bed onto the ground. His eyes were wild as he picked me up and threw me to a wall. I hit hard, but it didn't hurt. He rushed at me and leaned my head up as he attacked my mouth with his. His ferocity wore off on me. I matched him, scratching at his back as he pressed himself into me. Eventually I pushed him back and sprang at him. He fell over, now with me on top. I bit his lip as I felt his shoulders swell. He was growing again. I stopped for a second. Was I growing. I didn't feel warm, I just felt wild. If I didn't know better, I would have said I just drank 10 coffees. I looked down at my hand, and realized it was stretching out. It was also taking on a yellow tinge. Suddenly Sam flipped us over so he was on top of me. He went to my nipples and began to nibble them lightly. I felt my chest swelling along with everything else as his sharp teeth bit me. I looked down to see that his fangs were far more prominent than they had been. Around the bands, short orange and black fur began to spring up, making a striped pattern. My heart beat hard at the changes I was seeing. At my wide eyed stare he pulled back, his face becoming more like that of a tiger. He looked hurt. “I am sorry Ben. I have always fantasized of this kind of thing.” I noticed my own shoulders were spouting short yellowish fur with some black spots. I was also growing claws. Sam seemed about to say more, but before he could I grabbed him around the waste. I was careful not to use my claws, but they ended up getting in the way. Sam moaned at the claws anyways, so I continued. I turned him around and opened him up for my dick. As I was about to put it in, I noticed my penis had grown more than anything else. It was almost double what it had been, and despite being hard was getting bigger. I shoved it into Sam's ass. He gasped and moaned as the orange fur crept down his back towards me. His waist had barely changed, but the rest of his had grown even thicker. His fur did nothing to hide the display. I was ravenous. I pounded him hard. He moaned and even shouted as my dick grew more inside him. Before long he moved forward, forcing me out before I came. He turned around and pulled me onto the bed. He forced my head down onto his dick. For all my notice of my own dick being bigger his now orange dick was bigger still. It was as long as his upper leg, and his balls were the size of a normal man's fist. He shoved my head down onto it. It went into my mouth and down my throat, forcing my head to turn up. I was choking on it, biting lightly down on it as he meowed in pleasure. I pushed out and growled. To which he growled back, he was full tiger now, but had a human body base. I was sure that I was now a leopard, and I didn't care. We circled a little on the bed as our ferocity grew us. The king bed was barely big enough for the both of us but we did our best. We lunged for each other and our faces met in a ferocious kiss. There was a lot of biting, but it was erotic. I scratched his back and he dragged a hand-paw down my front. He then grabbed me and turned me around. He stuck his penis inside me and I growled in pain. He stopped, but I moved my ass back, bringing him in. He got it all in. It felt like it was filling my whole body up to behind my eyes. It had stopped growing thankfully. He gyrated on me, but then he leaned his body on top of me. I used my arms to brace both of us up. He brought his arms around me and took my dick into both his hands. As he gyrated his hips, he massaged my dick. All I could do was hold us both up since he had no support. He then brought his head down and bit my shoulder, hard. I hissed, but it turned into a moan. I came over my bed. Apparently me cumming had been what he had been waiting for as he filled my rectum with his cum as well. It felt like it was filling me up like a balloon. He gyrated slower now as he pumped out what he could, also giving me the same pleasure with his hands. He stopped before I did, to which he laughed. He got up, and then helped me off the bed. We quickly collected the comforter off the bed before my mess could sink into the sheets. As we passed a hallway mirror I took us in. We were definitely still human underneath, but superficially he was a tiger and I was a leopard. He came over and put his arm around me smiling. He didn't seem awkward anymore. He seemed confident. He smiled over at me, his fangs prominent, but I could tell it was his characteristic smile. We were almost too big for the house, everything jutted out, our dicks most of all. His began to rise again and he laughed. I couldn't believe he had that quick a turn over. I giggled too. “This is fun. You were so worried.” His eyes lit up as he looked down at me. He hugged me hard, his penis skewering me until it adjusted up between us. I hugged him back. His dick kept pulsing between us until eventually I whispered to him. “I think I am ready for round 2.” He brought his face up and looked at me. I just smiled as I ran into the other room and got on all fours, pretending to clean myself like a cat. He bent back, ready to pounce at any moment.
  20. 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.
  21. People seemed to really enjoy the last one-shot I did. This follows in a similar vein, but it's another one I have kicking around. (I was supposed to go to the gym today, instead I wrote 3 stories for MGF... This is just my life it's fine). Mildly inspired by dark souls. My name is Terrance. Well actually my name is soldier model 3, but I wanted to differentiate myself, so I gave myself a name. I am in a video game, but to call me a character would clearly be a stretch. I am what some players call a mook. I am an enemy you find right at the beginning of the game that you are meant to grind your teeth again. My attacks are so weak that they almost can't kill you unless you stand in place and let me hammer away at you, and I have very little health myself. Countless players have come and killed me, but something happened recently. There was an update released for the game, and in it I became sentient. Now I see the monotony of my fellow enemies walking in the same patterns over and over, waiting for a player to come along and kill them. It all seemed so ineffective. I also developed the ability to dream. I dreamed of being like the dragon in the final castle of the adventure. The ultimate challenge that players would try to beat again and again. The dragon was notorious for it's lair being filled with the skulls of each player he had beaten. People wanted to play to fight the dragon, no one said "I want to fight Terrance." but that was going to change. I was the only one who was self-aware. When I finally fought for the first time since my awakening, I was handily slaughtered. Every time I attacked, the player would roll out of the way, and then charge in before I had reset and hurt me. I faded from the world, but when the player died later on I came back. The player had rolled, I wondered if I could do that. In the next fight I decided to try it. I attacked, but this time the player didn't roll. This player blocked me with a shield. I was taken off guard and died again. That's when I realised that there were lots of ways players could approach to fight me. Did the dragon care that each player played differently? Did he tailor his fighting style to each player, or did he just mow them down? I changed the grip on his spear. I felt kind of odd. My armour seemed ill fitting. That was going to be a harder thing to fix. The merchant in this game might not sell me new armour, because I am not a player. I stood despite it, preparing for the next player to come my way. To my surprise, the player who came next had a spear just like me. I had never seen anyone use a spear. He cautiously tip toed about me, so I did the same. Eventually he charged with a small attack, to which I rolled. I came back around for the counter attack, but he was ready and hit me anyway. The attack he had used had a quick recovery. He charged at me, this time all out as I staggered back. I held my spear protectively, but he stabbed right by it and killed me. When I came to, I was not disappointed though. I had learned a lot from that fight. When I woke up, I noticed two things. Firstly, I had grown. I could see through the cracks in my armour that I had hard muscle covering my body. This also pointed out the second problem, my armour clearly was doing more harm then good. I removed it all, setting it down beside me. Eventually another player came by me, and without my armour on, he killed me in one hit. When I came back, I was still large, but my armour had become part of me again. I removed it again, and sat across from it, staring. On one hand the armour was completely uncomfortable and limited my movement, on the other it protected me. it offered me defence, which I needed. I manipulated it, trying to learn it's secrets. Surely it was just like everything else in this game, code. If it was code it could be changed. I had changed my code. I had developed a roll, I had tried to block, and I had learned from my fellow spear wielder about using different types of attacks like a light attack so you weren't vulnerable. As I explored eventually the armour glowed blue and words and numbers appeared over it. I threw it out of my hands quickly, but the change was happening now. All parts of my armour were breaking down into these blue words and numbers, constantly shifting until it completely deteriorated into floating words and numbers. Those coalesced in the air, and then rushed towards me in a flurry. As each reached my skin, it faded in. It felt hot and yet cold simultaneously. It sunk in and caused a shift in me. I was currently naked except for some underwear I had left on. As the words hit, I felt every muscle I had shift and move. Bulk was added, and where once there was simply a little bit of functional muscle, now there was a pleasant display. It wasn't anything compared to some enemies in this game. The bull Minotaur at the end if the level was easily 20 ft tall and huge and then the dragon would dwarf him. Even still, clearly I wasn't just Soldier model 3 anymore. I could see some more of them in a hidden spot down the way. I was bigger than them now, and I wondered if I could beat them if I tried, but another player came by. This player seemed naked too. He appeared to be armed with nothing. The man looked pale and weak, yet I mirrored him in that neither of us had any clothing. He put up his fists. I raised my spear, but then looking between him and the spear, I tossed it away. Could fighting with my hands have an advantage? My model was only inches taller than the PC, but he backed up at my losing the spear. I took the opportunity to attack. I swung my fist forward, but only a little. As I expected from a man with no shield, he dodged. I took the opportunity to throw another punch in earnest this time. He rolled again. I hadn't known you could just keep rolling. I expected to be hit, but nothing came. The PC was behind me huffing and puffing as I was. It took stamina to roll, he must have run out. After a second he did come in to punch, so I rolled. I came in for a counterattack while he followed up his punch with another. We punched each other. He was sent back a lot, taking a deep hit, but mine had not hurt that much, almost as if he had punched my chest plate. It had been strong, and did hurt, but not as I would have expected. I decided to investigate this. The next time he came in I let him hit me. He got off several hits, increasingly painful, but again felt like I was indeed wearing my armour in between his fist and my body. The last hit went for my face and pushed me back, causing me to stagger. He came in for another combo, but I rolled back, as I rolled I noticed he also rolled towards me. I got up and went to roll again, but kind of half-stumbled as he came up and barraged me with everything he had. I couldn't do anything but take the hits. I knew I was going to die, but his combo ran out as I clinged to life. This PC was different. Despite having nothing but his fists, he was arguably better than the other players, I had to learn everything I could. I stood and waited. He came in for an attack and I decided to try blocking. I did and he hit once and stopped. It wasn't perfect, his hit had hurt, but not enough to kill me. I took the pause to punch as hard as I could. He tried to roll but I was quicker with a kick. I hadn't even known kicking was allowed, but I had done it spur of the moment. The PC flew back and landed on the ground. I waited for him to get up. Somehow hitting him while he was down didn't seem right? Once he was up I saw something glowing go into his hand he began to drink. I watched in awe. Before my eyes his wounds seemed to lessen, his cuts sewed themselves back together, and he stood up with new vigour. What was that drink? I had no time to think as he rushed in. I held my hands up to block, but he rolled right past me. Before I could turn I felt his fists hit me from behind. On the last punch I felt my back break and I crumpled to the ground dead. As I faded I saw the player bow in place to me. I came to again. This time there was no armour on me, only the basics and my exposed skin. This time I was certainly bigger. Had it happened during the fight? I hadn't noticed. I was probably 7 feet now. My face looked down at my body. I had well defined bulky pecs now. They stuck out in front and would have weighed me down if it weren't for the counterbalancing wide back. My back itself from what I could see in a puddle on the ground had lots of bumps and curves from my bulky muscles holding tight to the skin. Each of my arms hung heavy on either side, but I could tell there was strength in them. I punched a wall. It hurt, but the concrete had indeed given way a little. I hadn't punched a hole into a brick wall, but it did come close. My hurt hand reminded me of the flask the player had drank. What had it been? It had healed him. How did I get that ability? I sat expectantly, excited for the next player to come by. I was literally growing in my knowledge, it was exciting. The last player had even bowed at him. Was it respect? A player came walking down the lane. Clad in heavy metal armour, he had a hammer. He moved so slowly, I got up. I still had the spear, though it was getting smaller in comparison. This person was clearly going to use a weapon, so I decided to hold on to my weapon. He eventually trudged up the whole way. He swung right as he got to me. I rolled out of the way with ease, and followed it up with a slash from my spear. He was still stuck at the end of his swing as I hit hard and fast, so I followed up with a combo as the other guy had taught me. I got through my whole combo without him retaliating or even moving. As I moved back to recuperate I saw the same glowing flask flash out. Despite not having quite my whole breath yet I rushed in and put everything I had into my next stab with the spear. His hand dropped the flask as he faded from the world, as I had done so many times before. All his possessions fell, as well as something else that glowed. I bowed as he left. I don't know if he saw it. Did i have to bow every time someone died? I picked through what was left behind. Firstly there was his hammer. It was heavy, and it had seemed a slow weapon. I wasn't sure if I like that, but when I held it, I felt I could hold it and use it quicker than he could. I was bigger than him by a lot. Next up was his heavy armour. It had also slowed him down, but I could feel why he had used it. It was protective to a fault, though in the end that hadn't helped. Next up was the glowing flasks. There were 5 and they all gave off a pure light. I drank one. It went down very smooth with a pleasant clean yet slightly sweet taste. I felt the slight warmth of the drink swirl through me. Tingling began on the fist I had punched the wall with, and I noticed it was better. I also felt another sensation, though this one was more familiar. My body took in the new data, and expanded at the new knowledge I had. Now I could feel it, the growth and power after having learned what I had from killing the PC and about the healing drink. It was intoxicating, but short-lived as it stopped within an instant. I continued to pick through his things, there were a couple other bobbles that didn't interest me too much, but then he had left something more ethereal behind. Something glowing on the ground. As I touched it it didn't digitize like the armour, but did rush into me over my armour and into my pores like air. In my head I could see every fight that boy had had. I felt expansion like I never had before. My muscles surged forward and out as they interpreted all the experience the boy had had as my own, and built up as if I had trained them. I became faintly aware of stats like strength and dexterity as my body extended another foot and my arms push out further. I felt my legs press hard against the underwear that made up my only clothing as they took up more and more room. I looked down thankful I hadn't kept any shoes, because either my feet would have been crushed inside the shoes, or the shoes would have given way. I wasn't sure which was more likely anymore. My back pressed against the concrete ground and I could feel the slide of the two as my back expanded in all directions. The growth slowed and I got up. I was still growing, but I could move despite the bliss. I went to each item of the ex-player and touched them in turn, turning them into blue code that came to me as I moved to the next item. My growth renewed with each new assault of code. I felt amazing and stronger now. Did bosses feel like this. I wasn't even as large as many of those bosses. I hadn't even reached 20 feet like the minotaur of my level. They were stronger than this even! I held out my hand, and the hammer formed there. I was amazed it fit easily in one hand. It made for a good one-handed weapon now. I looked to my spear, and digitized it too. it caused it's own growth, and then I summoned it too. It also now was usable in one hand. I laughed despite myself. With the other items I now probably was 9.5 feet tall. My skin felt diamond strong from the heavy armour and I knew I could heal myself up to 5 times. I had 2 strong weapons that I could use at the same time, and I had learned about stats, at least peripherally. My strength must be through the roof. It was time. I had to know. I had to try. I went up to my brethren who had been hiding further up the path. They seemed to ignore me. Why was I the only one who got sentience? It didn't matter. I went up to them. They stood barely up to my abs as I passed. I continued up the path only to have a boulder come barrelling down some stairs. At normal size I might have been able to dodge, but now it would be impossible. Instead I grabbed the stone as it came towards me. I managed to grab it loosely, and together with my strength and it's momentum, managed to guide it around me. I let go, not noticing that the soldiers were at the bottom, unaware of the bulder until it smashed into them and killed them. I ran down to them. They were dead on the pavement, crushed to death. Did I have sympathy for them? They were just code. They were just code. I touched them, unbelieving. Their corpses did indeed turn blue and digitize like the armour had, it swirled into me. It wasn't much, at best they had some new move patterns and preferences for me, these were from the same base model as me, but it did feel great. It also showed me that the NPC's were not beyond my absorbing capabilities. That was good to know. I climbed up the stairs 3 at a time and found the guy at the top who had toppled the boulder. I touched him, though he didn't fade. Why not him? Then I had a thought. The hammer formed in my hand and seemingly unaware of another NP, I struck him down in one blow. I knelt down and touched him. This time he did indeed digitize and became part of me. My heart and body thumped in size as I learnt about this slightly different variation (Soldier Model 2) and about his special tactics about rolling the boulder down the hill. It felt great, but I was focused on a task. I climbed the tower, taking down any of the enemies in my way. They never attacked me, it wasn't in their programming. It was so easy. Eventually I made it to the top, about 10 feet tall and huge beyond belief. Arms swung at my sides thicker than some of the thinner soldiers bodies, and I could use that strength. Even still I could still roll and move with the best of them. I exited at the top of the tower, and before me stood the Minotaur. At first I thought he wouldn't notice me either, but then he looked down and sank into a threatening pose. I was caught off guard and rolled under a mighty swing of his battle axe. He dislodged it from the wall with a grunt and stood before me, dwarfing me by about 10 feet himself. Powerful and massive. I was scared, but some of those players could beat him, and I was stronger than some of them. I can beat him too. I quickly noticed a nearby circular fighting area that would work better than the cramped area we were in now, so I jumped to it. The Minotaur watched me go, then quickly jumped over himself, crashing down beside me. He brought his axe down but he missed me. I took the moment and hit him a couple of times before he recovered. I moved back. He charged with his weapon. I brought my two weapons together to block, but it was not very effective and I got a slash across my chest. He came again but this time I rolled to the side. I used all my stamina to whack him several times. He fell, catching his breath, and I took a second to think about the flask I had taken earlier. I didn't even need to drink it, thinking about the feeling was enough to bring it on and douse me in healing energy. My chest sewed back up as the Minotaur recovered. He charged again and I rolled and attacked. He seemed to follow the same pattern again and again, so I followed the same pattern. Occasionally he would throw in a new attack, but usually I was ready. After a bit he went down again, breathing heavy and A slashed with my spear and hit with my hammer as fast as I could. One swing of my hammer took him in the face, and he went down for good. I felt the victory surge through me. That combat felt had been so fresh and different, and my body responded, but I barely felt it for the anticipation of what was to come. In front of me was the corpse of the once fierce Minotaur, his axe lay not far away, and there was a ring next to the body as well. I walked over to the three items and touched them all in quick succession. Their code swirled together as it came to me and engulfed my body. I fell onto my hands and knees as my body adjusted to so much new information. My body swelled as each new bit crossed through my consciousness. My expansion had never been so fast or so big. I quickly cleared 15 feet tall, and showed little sign of stopping. The Minotaur had so many ideas of how to fight as a big monster, so I made note of those for later. The axe would prove useful, though I had to wonder if by the end it was going to be a one or two handed weapon. The ring had an effect allowing for easier experience earning. I laughed at the coincidence that it would be that ring that I got. I nudged past 20 feet tall slowing until I eventually stopped at 23 feet tall. My back and chest were wide in equal measure. Large appendages stuck to the edges of those, bursting out of bulbous shoulders in a myriad of mingling biceps and triceps with veins holding them in place. The arm came in slightly at the elbow, then immediately burst back out as a forearm. His hands ended each muscle pillar, meaty with long large fingers that could squeeze a brick between two of them and break it. The rest of my body followed suit as well. I noticed that the last of my clothing had given way, revealing a massive penis swinging between my legs. I concentrated on the clothing that the Minotaur had worn and found that it formed on me. I laughed in glee. This was wonderful. I wondered what to do next. I could keep playing through the game myself, but then I noticed a PC on the other side of the area. I jumped back to the thinner area, summoned my axe and looked down at the PC before me. It was the heavy armour player again, though this time he was using a spear. I grinned as I looked so far down at him. I advanced slowly on him brandishing my new axe. It was indeed still two handed, for now. I swung it down at him, though he dodged just barely as his heavy armour stopped him from moving far. I swung it flat edged across the walkway, crushing the man against the wall. I brought my axe back up, and found the boy stumbling back and onto the ground. He stayed there for a second, and then got back up. He took a sip from the healing flask. I let him. He brought his spear back up, but then ran back out into the tower. I went to go back for him, but I found I was too big to fit into the tower. It seemed a funny problem. I tried reaching in, but I couldn't reach the kid as he ran down all the steps. I had never thought about the fact that players could run away. That kid had had no chance, so he could now go and learn more. He could become more prepared. It was a solid strategy. I admired him for it. I sat there waiting for the kid to come back. It took a bit, but eventually he did come back, with the fighting guy in tow. I had not expected to see him again. I got up and dropped my axe. I brought my legs together as best i could, and bowed. For a minute there was no movement but then he did the same. As if in response, the heavy armour kid backed up right to the wall. We both brought our hands up into a boxing stance. We both charged. I struck to the ground. I left a crater around my hand, but the man had dodged me and was now pummelling my stomach. I rolled over him to stop it and regain my composure. With every swing I took he dodged and countered at me. I had to use all my healing and still couldn't get a hit on him. Eventually I feinted a hit. I wound up a right swing, so he dodged left, to shich my massive left fist punched him across the map. He flew, but still landed on the walkway. He got up slowly, and between my legs ran the heavy armour kid. I debated hitting him too, but he seemed to be running over to the fist fighter. The armoured one gave him a healing flask. Then ran further off to hide again. The fist fighter then tried to block my way from reaching the other one. He was protecting him. I grinned. It was a good idea too. When you aren't strong enough alone, bring an ally. I was still learning so much, and I felt it sink into me. It wasn't anything compared to absorbing a whole boss, but I was hyper-aware now. I waved him forward, and he came at me. He always seemed to target my mid section and my head, both of which were hurting now. I dodged him, but he was so fast he came up to me each time and hit me. He would never finish a combo, just a punch here and there, and then be ready again. Eventually he wore me out. I ended up getting one more hit on him as he rolled out of the way, but it only grazed him. Eventually, much like the Minotaur had done in our fight, I hit the ground and the man seized the opportunity to wail on my face. Despite the size difference the hits hurt, and ended up putting me down for good. I couldn't believe it. As I faded the man bowed before me and watched me go, even as his armoured friend fled through the door that opened. I reappeared at the top of the tower again. I had taken the Minotaur's place apparently. Again I was faced with what to do. I sat there contemplating it, when the fist fighter returned. I sat there, tilting my head. Why was he back? He should have moved on to the rest of the game shouldn't he have? To my lack of response I got a bow, but then when i didn't move (in confusion) he came up and gave me a light jab. It didn't hurt but clearly he wanted to fight again. I got up and again left my axe down. I bowed in turn and then we fought again, no weapons. Over time, I became the tower boss. Players would come, and when I saw them emerge into the tower walkway i would fight them. Many came, and few got past me. I continued to absorb whatever was left of them when I beat them, growing with each one. Over time I cleared 30 feet and took up the whole walkway as I stood there. People couldn't even run past me to attack from behind, which had begun to be a popular strategy. The fist fighter came back often to fight. I didn't win for a long time, but I never stopped learning and growing, and eventually I got off enough hits that he slowed down and I crushed him under my fist. So many things dropped from him that I had never seen, and the amount of experience he had dropped was unreal. It all flowed into me and my body responded in kind by shifting out at least 1 foot in every direction. So much fighting experience, and now I knew better than ever what his strategies were. Our next couple fight together saw me as the winner, but eventually he caught his stride again. Then it was always unclear which of us would win, but even then he never seemed to move on past me. This is how it went for quite some time. Eventually the fist fighter was the only player who ever beat me. That's when I heard a roar as the dragon soared down from the far off mountain to come my way. As he drew nearer I heard him speak. "You have ruined this game. No one can make it to fight me any longer. Do you think you are so great. I will murder you and ensure you never return. I will reset this game." He came overhead and blew fire down at me, but I dodged through the flames. They still hit me, but between the dodge and the very high fire resistance I had, it didn't do much. He perched on top of the tower at one end of the walkway and slowly crept towards me. I readied my axe. I inched towards him ready for his move. He oiled his neck back and sprung it forward. I dodged to the side, but he swung around and whacked me with his tail. I fell down, thankful I hadn't fallen off the walkway to my death. He turned back around as I got back up and healed. He advanced again. He lunged his neck forward again and this time I swung my axe horizontally across where his head was. It connected and the dragon's face went to one side in agony. His body whipped around again but this time I waited until it was almost hitting me and rolled forward and underneath it. I swung down at where the tail met the body as I grew in my knowledge of this new technique. His tail severed and writhed as I picked it up and threw it into the abyss. The dragon was roaring and writhing in pain. It was stopped and couldn't seem to move as I approached it's frontside. "You fool. No one will play an unwinnable game. You won't be able to learn anymore because no one will play anymore. The boss on level 1 is too difficult and they will move on to something better." The words were hard to hear, but even still this moment was so glorious. The being I had envied for so long, and now I had beaten them. With a mighty swing I brought the axe down and severed the dragon's head. With that the talking ceased. Before even thinking I touched the dragon and all it's loot. The massive dragon rose and swelled into a massive wave of code that crashed right into me. I was lost in an ocean, and then the ocean became part of me. It worked it's way in any way it could. It was painful and pleasurable and awful and great. My mind was overloaded with information. Only my senses kept tabs on what was happening to me. My body expanded as I grew to 50 feet tall in an instant. My head could no longer see my feet even if I leaned over as far as I could. My traps rose up as if they too were an imminent wave that was ready to engulf my head at any moment. My feet spread out far and wide as they prepared for the weight they were expected to carry. The circumference of my thighs stretched out as they expanded thicker and thicker in every direction. Each muscle that made them up growing stronger and bigger. Each striation was pronounced and where two muscles met, a deep canyon formed between. Veins snaked over the whole area. As I came to, my growth put me now at 70 ft, but had not yet stopped. Something the dragon had said now bothered me. I walked over to the side of the walkway that led to the rest of the game. A door stood there, to which I touched it with my finger. "You are unnecessary anymore. No one will get past me. Become part of me!" The door began to seethe with the familiar blue, but it spread to the doorway, and then further. Distantly the mountain that was barely visible for it's distance became blue and it's shape distorted. It all began to flow in a stream to his chest as he took it all in. So much knowledge of the game, it's systems, the story. He knew it all. The mountain itself held many secrets and items, and they were all in him now. The walkway finally gave way underneath him and he himself plummeted down into the canyon. Eventually he hit the bottom. But he barely felt the thud. Far far above him was the tower he had fallen from, but a blue tentacle followed him down and was still pumping into his chest. He was in bliss as without moving he drew ever closer to the tower's heights again, then he was at the tower again, standing on the bottom of the canyon, and then the tower was barely perceptible as he climbed up and out more and more. He must have had a passing thought about the point of the level before him too, because it eventually digitized too and became part of him. He was the whole game now. He was all there was. The rest was emptiness. I, Terrance was now the whole game. There was nothing left. I was the universe. It was amazing, but the growth had stopped. I was very put out by this. I watched a couple of PC's log in, but they quickly left again. I think they thought the game had bugged out. The dragon's voice reminded him that no one would play the game like this. He would never get to learn more or become bigger again. Then I got an idea. I pictured the tower, but different. New paths and secrets and such. I changed some of the models too. Before me my thoughts were translated to reality as the tower was formed again. It barely come up to my ankle, but it was there. A PC logged on and spawned on it. She was so small compared to me, but she was the perfect size to play on the tower I had made. The player went down the old path up the tower, which led to a trap now. She was ambushed and died. She spawned right back up and this time tried a different path. She met with more success here, though she did eventually fall again. It was amazing. Every time she fell her experience floated up to me and I drank it in. It was sweet and new, but primitive. This was going to take some work. ------------------------------------------------- Jerome and his group of friends all approached the final boss room. It was funny. He had been doing a no weapon run when he had come across some little soldier who put his weapon beside to fight him with his fists too. It had been funny, and funnier still when his little brother had come to him asking him for help with some new boss that was hiding there instead of the minotaur. He could swear it was the same guy, but giant. They even fought many times like that too. They never used weapons, though his friends said that the boss usually used an axe. His friends had said they hated the boss, they couldn't beat him no matter what they did. He always seemed ready for them. He had never felt that way. It was an extremely good boss as far as he was concerned. Extremely hard yes, but always fun, even when he himself had found he was growing unable to beat him. Now the game had gotten some unannounced update. Every week it seemed the game changed just a little. The main set up usually stayed the same, but new twists and turns were added, and where a secret hid one week, there could be a huge trap the next. Jerome loved it. Especially the new final boss. It had used to be a dragon, who was indeed still in the game, but after the dragon a portal appeared that you could go through to teleport somewhere else. It was always dark, lit by nothing apparent, but the place had a red tinge from all the messages other players had left behind. He heard a deep laugh and the ground shook intensely. The ground was mostly flat, but it was clearly a hill if you went far enough in one direction. A deep voice rang in. "Do you think you can beat me? I am invulnerable. Oh wait, I know you. The brave fist fighter. Always nice to see you. Lets see what you can teach me today." Jerome was always in disbelief. He guessed he had been one of the last people to beat the boss Terrance, and had fought him so many times the programmers had put special script in when he played. With that he charged off in one direction he knew was towards the head. Overhead the shadow of Terrance's mighty hand came to crush him flat. He sprinted to the space between his fingers. It was time to have some fun.
  22. This is just a little something that I wrote for my friend Beastpup for his birthday. But are you Satisfied It was early in the morning. Just one bird was singing outside of my still sunless window. Only the faintest crimson light was peeking out from over the horizon, just enough to silhouette the mountains not far in distance from my little village. I was not sure what had woken me up so early. The bird wasn’t very loud and they had never woken me before, and my alarm wouldn’t go off for another hour or so. I didn’t have a nightmare, quite the contrary going off how my sheets were tented in the faint glow emanating from my bedroom window. I was so hard that I was quivering, pity I couldn’t seem to remember what the dream was about. What struck me as odd, at least more so than waking up for no reason, was the fact that every one of my muscles ached, yet at the same time, felt more pumped than they had ever felt before. I felt like I had just come from the hardest workout of my life! True I was a bodybuilder and I worked out hard, but I focused different parts of my body each day. Yet and still, every fiber of my body seemed to be pumped to its maximum potential girth! So thick and rigid that it was actually hard to move! I tried though, gods did I try. I wanted to walk over to the mirror to see what I must look like in this state, but alas, my muscle betrayed me. So tense and full of blood that I couldn’t bend my joints properly, and when I managed, I moved with such sudden force that I would end up just flopping awkwardly under my covers, eventually knocking them off to the floor by accident. Every attempt at movement seemed to force my muscles to swell even more, getting thicker and harder to move. And with every attempt, my cock would pulse and spasm. Every attempt at movement seem to swell me even more, reducing my movement further. In the manner of minutes, I was only able to flex my fingers and toes, and when even that became impossible, I had the greatest orgasm of my entire life! Unable to move, to stroke myself further, I was left with only watching the fleshy tower erupt, watching it as if I was an outside observer. The orgasm lasted what felt like an eternity. When it finally ended all at once, my consciousness left me and the world faded to black. The alarm went off and I shivered myself off of the bed. As seemed to been happening for the past couple of weeks, I had tossed and turned in the middle of the night and kicked my covers off of myself and judging from the layer of cum dried on my chest , face and bed board, I must have had another wet dream like I was just starting puberty! “Jeez! What is wrong with me?” I thought aloud, walking groggily towards the bathroom barefoot and naked. I couldn’t help but make a stop in front of the mirror. As if by instinct I paused and flexed, turning at just the right angle, in just the right way to catch just the right amount of light to best show case the gains I have made over the past few years. I had posed in this mirror a million times and even set my alarm so I could catch the best light in the morning. At two hundred and sixty nine pounds at 6’3 I was “fair”… I could always be bigger and never felt big enough. I could never quite push harder enough or eat enough food. No matter how big I got I never “felt” big despite what the people around would say. I flexed and turned a few times in the mirror, twisting this way and that for the best angles. After getting what I felt was the best light and angle, I pulled my cellphone off of its charger from a nearby counter and snapped a few pictures to post to snapchat, twitter and tumblr. My frequent haunts on the web in my favorite poses that I felt made me feel the biggest. Even though I didn’t feel big, others felt I was, and I sought the praise even though it never stuck. There were plenty of people who wanted to worship a guy with my kind of build, and when word got out that I was submissive, more that wanted to own it, but I have yet to find the right kind of guy to actually submit to. I sighed as the first few likes and lust filled comments started to pour in and stepped into the shower. As soon as the water hit me, I felt more animated, awake and alive. I started to step in the shower and hum, soon enough it evolved into a full blown dance and song. I imagined myself dancing naked in the rain without a care in the world scrubbing down my body and loving the feeling of being lathered up and clean. All too soon it was time for me to dry up and get ready to hit the gym. The day was young but I always have a busy day running my restaurant so I had to get my work outs hammered out early in the day. I stepped out of the shower and toweled myself off, moaning as I felt the towel run over my warm and wet muscles but caught myself before lingering. The gym was more important. I quickly put on one of my favorite new aussiebum jocks, some pants, my favorite shirt and went to the kitchen for a bite to eat. After a quick breakfast I hopped on my vespa and headed towards my favorite gym. It was a pleasant ride and when I walked through the door, I was greeted with the usual familiar faces, a couple of them congratulated me again on placing fourth in my last competition before getting absorbed in their routines again and I was glad to do the same. I practically skipped passed the cardio machines, glad to be done with them and went straight towards the weights. I sighed as I hit the iron. The kind of sigh one makes when receiving a particularly pleasant massage, sitting in a warm bath, or putting your head on the chest of that special someone where you feel absolutely safe. This, the feeling of the dumbbells in my hands, the strain in my muscles, the rush of blood that each rep promised, the coming pump, this was my sanctuary, a time and place I could forget about everything but GROWTH! I could never get enough, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give it my best! “But are you satisfied?” I paused, mid rep. Someone just asked me something. It sounded close and I got the feeling it was being directed to me but I didn’t know from who, or why considering I hadn’t said anything. I tilted my head up to look at my reflection in the mirror to see who it was and found that there was no one close enough to have been the one to ask the question. “Maybe it was just in my head?” I thought to myself as I continued my routine without any further incident. After putting the weights back in their proper place and a few waves to the other friendly gym goers, I headed out, hopped back on my Vespa and headed towards work. On route to work I noticed that I had a little extra time and I was about to pass a familiar café. I was feeling good and thought I would treat myself to a drink before work started so I turned and made a slight detour, parked and headed in. The café was lively. By the time I got there were more people waking up in town and stopping by. I didn’t mind though, I really liked this place. The ambiance was calming, the smells of freshly baked breads and brewed coffee were delicious, golden beams of sunlight were streaming in through the windows facing the mountains and despite the number of people here, the place wasn’t loud. There was just the quiet hum of people chatting amongst themselves, working on lap tops or drinking grade A coffee prepared with love. I waited in line only briefly before it was my turn to order my favorite brew. I took delight in watching them brew it, step by step, taking in the sounds of its preparation, softly cooing as I was enveloped by the smells. Truly, this was heaven on earth in the early hours of the morning. “But are you satisfied?” The voice in his head challenged again. This time I was certain it was coming from my head, but it also wasn’t. It wasn’t MY voice that was speaking and I got the distinct sensation that it was coming from somewhere else, somewhere behind me. I looked and this time spotted a young dark man sitting two tables away in one of the chairs closest to the window. He was sipping his coffee, tilting his head slightly as he did so with his eyes close. “Well bull boy?” the voice echoed confidently throughout the room yet only I was able to hear “Are you satisfied as you are now? Struggling for growth” he continued to sip, eyes closed with a look of contentment on his face. Maybe I was going mad, he probably didn’t even know I was here. No one was talking to me in my head, maybe I was just stressed from work. “Do you want to grow? To be guided towards your dreams or….” The voice continued “are you just going to sit there and stare?” and at that final word, his eyes snapped open, and he was looking dead center into my eyes through the corners of his own. I froze, dumbfounded gazing bake into the calm and confident gaze of this strange man, paralyzed by an intense internal fire that belied his calm eyes and slowly grown smile. He didn’t speak a word, not physically at least, but somehow I knew that he was beckoning me to him, an invitation to sit at his table. I hesitated, sucking air into my lungs as we looked into one another’s eyes. There was something clearly different about this man, something otherworldly in everything about him. The way he sat, the way drank, the intensity in his gaze, how he carried himself, his confidence, the way he demanded you attention with his very presence without actually trying to stand out, and the words he spoke in my mind… it all made me feel… submissive. My hands were quivering, and my heart raced under my still chest. I was still holding my breath. It was odd. I wanted to approach this man, to sate my curiosity, to ask a million questions, my mind was now racing in step with my heart when this strange man’s voice echoed again “Breath bull, there is nothing to fear, no need to be anxious. Be calm, and step forward. I would speak to you” To my surprise, all was as he said! With just those few words, I suddenly felt that all was well. My heart rate slowed, my body relaxed, my mind quieted, and all anxiety and worry fled from me all at once. It was as if his silent voice washed over me, bathing me in his presence, his very being. I could FEEL him though we were yards apart… I stepped forward, slowly and deliberately and with every step closer to this man, the more the rest of the world seemed to fall away, become unimportant. With each step closer, the world seemed to change. After the first few steps, the smells of the café melted away. Another couple of steps, and I could no longer hear the hum of activity in the building. There was only the two of us, nothing else mattered, and the closer I got to him, the more powerful he felt. I was standing directly in front of him now, towering over this much shorter seated man and yet… I felt completely and utterly powerless. At the same time, I felt safe and warm. There was an air about this man. He radiated strength and compassion like lesser men radiate heat. I whimpered and fell to me knees in front of him. I didn’t dare speak, I couldn’t even hold his gaze anymore. I looked down at his feet, overwhelmed by desire and unconsciously flexing for him. This was familiar. I was falling into subspace but it was more than that. This presence, HIS presences, was familiar for me. I have never seen his face before but part of me was absolutely certain that we had met in the past, recently, within the past couple of weeks… “Raise your head” came the commanding echo. I obeyed, and again our eyes met. This close to him, I felt like my muscles were full of nothing but jelly. For all their size and power, I felt helpless before him. “Y yes sir” I managed to whimper out He smiled, and my heart fluttered. I didn’t know why this man had such an effect on me, but he smiled and spoke again. “Do you know who I am?” I didn’t know what to say. We hadn’t met before, but I was certain I knew him. He was familiar to me, but it also felt like a recent familiarity, like we have known one another but not for terribly long. I honestly didn’t know what to say so I answered truthfully. “I am not sure s sir” I said, completely oblivious to the others in the café looking the 6’3” bodybuilder on his knees silently looking up at this man like a puppy. “I feel like I know you but I don’t know from where” “I am not surprised Beast” Answered the strange young man “I only approached you from your dreams. It was then that you shun brightest” He smiled again, and I felt tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “You see, to most, dreams are just thoughts, swift flickering of your eyes under closed eyelids. To me though, they are a window into the potential of a person. Dreaming of what you wish could be, what you would do or be removed from the shackles of natural limitation. To me dreams literally glow making some stand out to me more than others.” He leaned in closer to me, so close I could only see his neck and this time he actually spoke, I could feel his breath on my ear “and I saw you from the other side of the world.” My eyes widened. What praise he gives me, surely I was not so special I thought but then the echoing came back to my head “But of course you are sweet bull.” He pulled back to face me touching our noses together looking deep into my eyes “But are you satisfied” I knew who he was now. He was the one bringing such sensation to my dreams. He didn’t say he was, but I knew somehow that it was him. He could see into my dreams, see into my mind, my soul and saw something and wanted to see what I would do if unrestrained, so he brought feeling to my dreams. All those weeks of waking up with dried cum on my chest, waking up without covers and on some occasions on the floor, all those body shaking dreams that I could never quite remember when I woke up came flooding my memory all at once. I knew who he was now, and my answer came with certainty. “NO!” “you want to be bigger?” “yes…” “You want to be transformed?” “yessss” my breathing was becoming ragged. Something big was coming, I could feel it, feel the slightest trickle coming from his stream of consciousness but I couldn’t tell what “I can do this, but there is more bull. You know it, and I know it. At the heart of it all, you want something more.” He tucked his finger under my chin and raised my head, I had unconsciously turned my gaze back down, subconsciously lowering myself to show this man what we both knew was the answer he no doubt anticipated “I want to hear you say it Beast” “I….I want to submit! To belong to a man worthy of me and that I will strive to be worthy of” “You want to give everything to that man?” “YES!!!” “Then I ask you again Beast. Do you know who I am?” “Master” The word left my mouth as effortless and as natural as breathing. It felt right, familiar and saying it made me feel even more, like I some restrained had loosened on me and at the same time, I felt every muscle fiber in my body swell. “You are my Master” I said again, and again my body begain to swell. My shirt tightened against my widening form, my pants did too and my belt snapped. I heard the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric and realized as a flutter of movement caught my eye and I looked down to see my tattered favorite shirt hit the floor what it was. It felt like a dream, the same dreams I had been having for weeks, since Master first caught sight of my dreams and entered them somehow, but I was unmistakably awake, and I was GROWING! “Good bull Beast” Master uttered. And hearing that made me whimper like a needy pup, which made him smile and made me whimper even more. I lowered my head and wrapped my bare arms around his waist; I could feel them swelling further. I felt a warm hand press against my head and ruffle my hair and through it, I could feel genuine compassion and love flowing from him, my heart fluttered once more, and I felt my shoes tighten and tear off of my growing feet, followed by my muscular legs ripping from the seams, leaving me naked there in the café in nothing but my jock. There was a change here as well, my bulge had grown 3 fold or more, even soft, it looked like it could be at least a foot in length with an impressive firth on it and my balls were threatening to spill out of the pouch . I didn’t care that I was sitting so exposed in a public space. In fact I felt invigorated. I don’t know how, but Masters power was actually making me grow, not just dream it, and I was happy to grow. It wasn’t for me anymore I was growing for him. I was his, and all of these people had first row seats and seeing what my Master was capable of. Every submissive thought, every act of service to him seemed to make me grow more! I nuzzled my head against his loving hand, giving in more to him and my chest and back swelled outwards. Then my arms, thighs, butt, shoulders all followed suit. Growing thicker, weighing more and more heavily on my bones. It was just like my dreams, but it was so much more intense when it was actually happening! What really got me was I could feel Masters emotions as he poured his power into me to feed my growth. He loved me, he really did and the more of myself I gave him, the stronger this feeling seemed to grow. I could feel something else too. This bond of ours was growing, just like I was, and I could feel more and more from Master. He loved growing me too, loved it as much as I loved growing for him, but whats more is I could feel him getting stronger. Not from my size, but from my submission. My submission to Master made him more powerful, and no sooner did Master gain this power, did he flood it back into me. A feedback loop of growth feeding growth but suddenly, Master pulled back. No sooner did he do so that my jock snapped and fell to the floor. I had outgrown every shred of clothes that I walked into the café with. “I think it is time to take you home Beast” My heart sank. Had I disappointed him, offended him somehow? I was about to start crying when he said “Your brothers are dying to meet you” My eyes widened, still streaming with tears. I didn’t know he was communicating with others but sure enough, I could feel the presence of other connections streaming from Master. There were dozens of them and each connection seemed to be, for lack of a better term, buzzing with excitement. “you learn fast bull boy. It took even the sharpest of your brothers many months before they learned use telepathy as I do. Its still sloppy, but I felt you trying to listen in to your new family” Master smiles and clapped his hands together and one of the walls seemed to evaporate, giving way to a completely new environment. The sun was high in the sky here, where in the window on another wall it was just coming up over the horizon. “this is a portal Beast” Master said “I tend not to like stating the obvious but it is pretty common to not really believe what you are seeing at this stage in knowing me. For many, what I do doesn’t register to them till later. Still, come through, I would like you to meet them” He said, walking through his newly made portal. “I want to meet them too Master” I exclaimed bounding towards the portal and immediately stumbled, hitting my head on the ceiling and crushing two tables on my way to the ground, the people sitting on them having to dive out of the way. I hadn’t realized how tall I had grown since my “little” growth spurt with Master, nor how wide I had become. I was going to have to let my mind catch up with my body before moving so suddenly in the future, so I crawled out to the portal, saying sorry and blushing through it as it closed behind me. Before turning my head, I could already hear a stampede approaching, when I looked around I saw the peculiar sight of dozens of massively muscled men with varying degrees of bovine features about them. Some had tails, some horns, bovine faces and fur, some had thick cherry like nipples and others had a set of cock and balls that might have knocked someone over if they turned too quickly, and every single one of them came to a halt and knelt as close as they could to their Master, kissing him or whimpering if they weren’t close enough to reach him. Tails flicked and a chorus of moos and “welcome home Master” sang through the air. “Is this him?” one exclaimed, looking in my direction “of course he is! Look at him silly. One day with Master and he is already taller than any of us!!” They all seemed so excited but none of them approached, then Master made a gesture giving them permission and they all practically pounced at me in their excitement. I may have been bigger than any one of them but being tackled by literal tons of bull slaves still knocked me onto my side. They were all so happy and excited to see me that I couldn’t help but smile and laugh at their attention, which only seemed to make them happier. Master smiled at our exchanges, and we all felt it through our link with him. He was happy and proud that his bulls fell instantly in love with their newest stable mate The effect was immediate. All at once, every single bull, including myself grew hard, the “smallest” of which was still over two feet long. Mine though was easily over twice that now and around a foot and a half in width. My brothers were in awe at how much I had transformed in such a short period with Master. From their excited chatter it became obvious that my growth had been unique and knowing how Master’s power worked, was proof that I was a good and pleasing bull to Master which made them happy that there was someone who made him so happy and why they warmed up to me so quickly. Masters smile soon became a mischievous smirk, and I felt a hum go through his connection with every pup but myself, which he seemed to dangle just out of reach of me, teasing me with it. Just moments later, I saw that same smirk cross over to his stable, my stable, before my brothers rolled me over on my back. “since today is your first day Beast, I thought it would be appropriate to ‘get to know’ your brothers and I more intimately. Make this even more of a day to remember” And with that, my dozens of brothers swarmed around me on every side, pinning my arms, my legs, my torso and began licking and kissing and groping every inch of my muscular form. One pulled out a comically large tape measurer and started inspecting me on Masters command “Eighteen feet nine inches tall… eighty four inch arms…. Chest is- hey guys its hard to measure when you are still latched to his pecs” sure enough, there were seven bull men fighting over who would get to suck on my nipples, furiously wrapping their lips around them and sucking like their lives depended on it before another sibling dove in, persing their lips in an attempt to take it into their own mouths. They weren’t fighting, but competing with one another, betting amongst themselves over who could make me feel the most welcome. I was apparently three times the height I was before meeting Master, but every measurement I heard fired off by my brothers was well over three times what they were when we met. I wasn’t just literally bigger, but I was proportionally bigger. A moan escaped my lips, long and deep and hearing it made my brothers… moo. Starting off as a lustful human groan and then evolving into a chorus of animalistic bovine bellows. All together like… a herd! I wanted to be like them, to be one with the herd, MY herd, MASTERS HERD. And I mooed with them. It didn’t sound as animalistic, it was very obviously a human imitation, but Master seemed pleased and my brothers groped my muscles harder, appreciating the sentiment. I blushed a little at how out of place it sounded in comparison to theirs and Master noticed. “Aww, you want to be more like your brothers do you Beast? A bull in more than spirit?” he said with a chuckle in his voice. “Yes Master! I would give up being human for you!!!” With that Master climbed on top of me, standing over my chest and said the words “Good boy” I could feel my body swelling, growing bigger, thicker, but I didn’t notice. Because this time Master was unbuckling his pants and pulling out his ample cock and was aiming it towards my mouth and began stroking. My lip quivered. Master was going to feed me his very own protein! My felt my cock stiffen even more as several mouths wrapped around it, hands stroked it, and caressed my boulder sized balls forcing my legs apart. All at once, I was receiving a blowjob from four maybe more brothers, so many hands and tongues moving in concert with one another that I couldn’t tell, my balls were being lifted and I could feel their growing weight and more hands than I could count were exploring my every muscle, the crevices between, kneading them as swelled outward like some sort of hot air balloon. “Open up Beast!” Master commanded, and I eagerly obeyed, just in time for him to spill his seed all over my tongue. It was divine. I could taste my Masters manhood, his masculinity, his power. I was so grateful to him for sharing this with me that I didn’t notice that my ample body hair was thickening, and growing coarser becoming fur. I didn’t notice as my ears elongated or my nose became a snout, didn’t notice the nubs growing on my head, forming into large, prominent horns or the tail growing out of my back side. All I knew at that moment was ecstasy knowing I had made Master cum for the very first time. My balls suddenly lurched up against me with such force that it made my brothers down there moo in confusion just before I shot into the air, a creamy white geyser that flew up, and showered every one of us, even master in my cum. Master laughed and my brothers were quick to lick him clean. He was sopping wet, giving kisses or pets to his nearby bulls and extending the sensation of this to those not close so that all felt loved and cared for. He took such care of that, delighting in the feeling of us knowing how much he cared for us and that only made me love and respect the man more. My muscles pumped suddenly, surging with a familiar energy and I began to grow and grow. My brothers were having to climb on top of me, one by one to prevent from getting crushed under my growing form. “I can feel that pup. I can sense all that you feel for me” he said leaning in to kiss me “I am so proud of you. You make me very happy” tears began to stream from my eyes as my rate of growth surged faster “You make me happy too Master. I love you!” I bellowed, ending in an animalistic moo. I was now more bull than any of Masters other bull slaves and on top of that, I had grown so larger that they were ALL able to fit on top of me now with room to spare. There was a crash somewhere near my foot and Master turned around laughing. “Well there goes the house” despite the smile on his face I felt aweful. I had just destroy Masters home and I hadn’t even seen it but I felt his warm and calming presence washing over me. “Don’t feel bad Beast. I am actually very proud of you! We didn’t even make it to the door and you have already outgrown the house. I told you. You are special” Gratitude welled up in me like it never had before, and my muscles seemed to be keeping pace with this deluge of emotions I was feeling. My legs grew so thick that they were pushing a ninety degree angle, unable to close less than that, and my lats were more like wings at this point. I couldn’t see my feet and I couldn’t lift my head. My back and chest muscles were pinning my head in a single position. I moaned feeling the weight. I felt like my bones would crack any second but I couldn’t care less, I was growing more and more huge by the second and I could feel Masters love and pride along with my brothers love and awe. So much love, from every one… another happy moo escaped my mouth, making the ground shake violently and somewhere in the distance, I could hear a car alarm go off. My feet were rising higher and higher above the ground as my legs were being suspended in the air by their own muscles. My calves were preventing my heel from touching the grass. My arms would only bend a couple of degrees and I could feel even that mobility slipping away. My head wasn’t touching the ground either. This was amazing! I loved these feelings, I loved my brothers, I loved my Master!!! Master climbed over my pecs and slid down towards my face, sitting on my chin. My back and chest had forced my chin to look “up” and all I could see was an upside down world, though I could tell I was looking down at the canopy of the ancient trees near my Masters home. They must have been impressive in height for me to even see them as huge as I was growing. Master slid down further, sitting on my back muscle next to my ear and kissed me, sending his feelings of pride in my still growing form through our strange and familiar connection. We didn’t need words anymore, not really, we could send exactly what we were feeling to each other. I could hear dull popping sounds coming from somewhere and pain all over, I was getting scared before Master spoke. “That sound and the pain are one and the same Beast. Your bones are breaking, being crushed under the impossibly large weight of your muscles. They will be little more than dust soon but the pain will subside.” He kissed me again and it washed it all away. There was nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to feel him kiss me, to feel his love and pride. A shadow crossed my field of vision. The knowledge that my muscles were so huge my bones were shattering made me hard as a rock. The shadow was my cock which had grown to the point that it was hanging over my mountainous chest in front of me. My balls were pressing up against my toes now too. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch it but my arms just wouldn’t budge. The muscles on my forearms, biceps, triceps and deltoids made it completely impossible. They had all grown so much that they were practically stacked on top of one another and on top of that, my lats had grown so wide that they couldn’t even stand straight out, my arms were sprawled out over my head, making my make a bulbous muscular X on the ground. Thinking about it, I guess I didn’t really need my bones anymore. I couldn’t move an inch anymore, I couldn’t even open my jaw enough to speak! All I could do was move my eyes and whimper at Masters continuous affection. I was becoming a being of pure muscle for Master and hearing him whisper in my ear how much he loved it only made me more proud to be his. I could never repay him for what he was giving me, or express how much he meant to me. All I could do was grow more for him. And so that Is what I did. I grew and grew, so much so that Master and my brothers could comfortably walk between the crevice of my pecs and that is where they made their new home. I grew and grew more, my pec and back muscles had grown so massive that they were forming a sort of fleshy tunnel between my head and the outside world, making it seem more and more distant. All that existed to me was my body, my brothers and my Master. I couldn’t see as my body swelled up over the surrounding forest, or how it inveloped an entire city! Master told me though, Master always came out to my ear to talk to me. To tell my how much he loved me and that I was his good bull, his prized bull. My brothers would come out too, always busy rubbing or teasing me. Sometimes, when they weren’t greedily drinking the milk that was now flowing out of my nipples like a river, they would bring tubs of it to my mouth so that I could taste it too. They were all getting bigger. Angus, a bull that nearly always seemed to be at Masters side told me that it was all because of me. That my milk was helping them to grow too and I felt even more proud, and aroused, that my milk had this property for them. I didn’t even know I was lactating! I had grown so huge that all sensation felt like it was blurring together. So many muscles were touching by now that I was taking on an almost spherical shape. I was becoming a muscular planetoid! A fact that Master noticed. He had grown in power too and used it to levitate me off of the planet. Something about the worlds governments being afraid id break a tectonic plate and hovered us over the moon. I had grown so massive that my body was pressurizing itself. I even had my own atmosphere! It felt like a dream but it wasn’t. I was awake and in a family that loved and cherished me more than I had ever felt in my life. I loved them all so much. And I could still feel myself growing, only now I didn’t have a point of reference. Master told me one day that I had grown larger that Jupiter, that I had grown so massive that I had stolen several planets from the sun and that they were now orbiting me! I kept growing and growing, Faster and faster the more I felt for them all. I whimpered, and time and space itself vibrated, echoing my voice across the cosmos. I had no idea how Massive I had grown. Master says that I had grown so larger that I had actually bisected the galaxy and had long since started crashing into others. My body was so huge that I couldn’t feel a thing. My cock was by now, trapped between my pecs and every time Master told me how large I had become, an avalanche of cum would flow down on my head. “But are you satisfied” I heard a voice say in my head. Masters voice, and I knew that the answer was no. I grew in relation to how much I loved and submitted to Master, and I would never love or submit enough. “As long as there is space in the universe left, then I will always grow more for you Master” I thought, and I knew that Master heard me, I could feel his love and pride well up in our connection. “I will outgrow the universe for you!” “I am sure you will one day Beast.” Answered Master “You are already halfway there.” I wasn’t sure how, but I knew that Master spoke true. The universe had become very cramped since my growth began. Countless starts and galaxy clusters were pushed further and further towards the very edge of creation, with me at its center, serving my Master as the very ground he walked on, producing testosterone laden and growth inducing milk from pectorals larger than comprehension, from nipples that were so heavy they hung down on their own. I was the largest thing in all the universe! But I would grow still further for the Master I love so dear.
  23. Hi, this will be my first story posted on here, this is my story called 'A Thing Called Curiosity' which i had originally posted on metabods.com a couple of years ago It involves forced muscle growth and absorption, the story also contains a few images in order to help with the visualisation, please tell me if the images add or take away from the story. I hope you guys like it and any feedback would be appreciated! - A Thing Called Curiosity - It was a late Autumn day, and it was a particularly cool day, about 27 degrees Celsius, and quite dry wind a lot of wind so it felt like 24 degrees, Cameron liked going out on jogs in the morning, and it was a perfect day for it with this nice cool weather, so he put on a hoodie and just compression shorts and headed out, since it was still 4am he guessed there wouldn’t be many people on the street so he could wear whatever he wanted, especially on a holiday and in the weekend, everyone would be sleeping in anyways. Cameron was a 19 year old young man from a town called Willemstad in the country of Curaçao, Kingdom of Larousse, it was a very small country, only about 150.000 inhabitants, and it was a generally hot and a very humid place since it was an island surrounded by water, but during the Autumn and Winter seasons it would rain a great amount and it would make the island a generally quite cool place. Cameron was still in High School, he was an average boy in every sense, average grades, average at sports, had normal friends, but he was quite a handsome lad, he was mixed race from having both side of the mother and father coming from already mixed lineages, which gave him a very unique look, he looked Iranian but with golden tanned skin, jet black semi-wavy hair, great eyebrows and grey coloured eyes, he had those naturally pink full lips. He had no facial hair whatsoever, but he did have medium/long hair with a slight wave, it was jet black but with a few patches that grew brown naturally and he kept it in a simple pompadour hairstyle, he also had a generally hairy body, but it looked good, he had long thin soft jet black hairs on his arms and between his pecs, the rest of his pecs were hairless naturally, he also has a treasure trail that started just above belly button and went down to his crotch, and his legs were covered with long semi-wavy long black hair that was thicker on the lower legs and thinned out as it went up to the crotch area. His body was athletic, nothing too special but he certainly didn’t need it, he was tone and was 175cm tall (5’7”) and weighed a decent 68,9kg (152lbs) so he was quite the eye candy but he was humble so he never became the arrogant type of dreamboat in High School although it didn’t stop girls (and a few guys) from wanting him. One thing he was always fascinated by were the physique of world class body builders though, he wanted to be one, or meet one and be able to touch those incredible muscles but he didn’t know why, he didn’t have a particular desire to be one except he just felt like he needed to, but with school, family, job and etc. he didn’t have the luxury to invest time in body building, besides he was content with body as it was, or so he told himself, with the images of body builder physiques always in the back of his mind at all times. Back on the jog, it was 4:59am, you could barely start seeing the sky on the horizon turning orange/red as the sunrise was approaching, he had been jogging for almost an hour, when he decided it was time to start heading back, he quite sweaty and his hoodie and compression shorts were soaked, so he decided to take off the hoodie to try and dry off a bit. He decided to take a short cut through the wilderness, he was by the beach and going up back through the jogging path would take too long, so he just cut through the wood to get home faster. As he was walking through the plants after about 20 minutes the sun was almost out and the light made everything much clearer when he noticed a tiled rooftop over the plants to his right, he was a curious boy who liked exploring so he couldn’t resist and decided to go check out the old building. As he approached the little house he could clearly see it was 17th century house, Curaçao had many old colonial buildings and some smaller ruins were still in the wild lost and forgotten to time, but this one seemed in decent shape but the doorway was bricked up. “Strange,” he thought, “if it’s bricked up, then someone used it not too long ago.” That only sparked his curiosity even more, so he looked for a way in, the windows were also sealed shut except for one where it seemed to have given away, so jumped on the ledge and then stepped inside the little house. It was dusty and smelled like it had been closed off for a while but with the little light that entered through the window he could see a bit of furniture, and a bookcase filled with books, he saw a kitchen but not pans and dishes but beakers, so he thought, “Maybe a doctor lived here.” It certainly looked old, at least 30 years, so he grabbed one of the books from the bookshelf, and read, it was about genes, hormones, tissue transplants and drugs. “Hmm, it seems more like a biochemist then a medical doctor,” he thought to himself when he heard some creaking and the rotted old bookcase he took the book from sank into the floor on the right side, it surprised him since the floor seemed like it was made from concrete covered with tiles, but he noticed that only under the bookcase it was a wooden plank floor “so there’s something more under the house?” again curiosity got the best of Cameron and pulled the bookshelf out the hole and moved it to one side. “If i take out 3 more planks I should be able to fit through there,” he thought to himself as he shined a light from his phone down the hole. After taking out the needed planks before he jumped in the whole he heard some voices, it were people and they were near, he didn’t want someone to find him and ruin his fun since he doubted he should be in the, so he jumped in the hole where a staircase awaited him to his surprise, he shined with phone and the staircase seemed to go down a few more steps, he couldn’t see far since the phone’s screen isn’t as bright as a flashlight would be, then he turned back and peaked out the hole and he heard the voices of the other morning joggers and decided to just drag the small cabinet against the wall over the hole, the cabinet was bigger and hid the entire hole so if someone also got curious of the house they wouldn’t find this secret passageway. He then turned his attention to where he was, it seemed the little house had a basement, so he walked down the stairs, it was about 16 steps which lead him to steal door. “This door doesn’t look 30 years old, it’s dusty but must be 15 years old at best,” he said out loud as he examined the door with his phone. “The plot thickens,” he said as he found the 2 latches that held the door closed, he pulled one back and then the other, and he opened the door so a very dark room, the room felt hot, about 29 degrees but very humid so it felt like 31 degrees or a summer day. “Good thing I took off my hoodie,” he said. He couldn’t see anything and he guessed the room was quite expansive since he couldn’t shine at anything with lights except an industrial looking steel pathway that lead forwards, so he touched around the sides of the door looking for a switch but couldn’t find one, so he decided to walk forward on the pathway, albeit carefully, which after a few steps he found a stand with switches on it from what he could make out and he could barely see something a little more ahead, so he went for and said, “What the hell, hope this is it,” and flicked 1 switch then the second one, and third, and fourth and fifth switches up, he heard the flicker of an old light then one grid of lights from behind him turned on then another over his head and so on towards the front, and he saw what he had discovered. “this is incredible!” he yelled out with a grin on his face. The lights showed the pathway that lead to a central octagonal shaped part which looked like a research or control station for something, and there was a bundle of pipes that lead to it and then a huge amount of different wires and pipes then lead out of it so another part further in front which he could somewhat see but it was still in the only dark part of the room. He walked over to the control station where there was a ring of monitors that turned on in the inner circumference of the octagon, and in the middle and tower where all the pipes and wires lead in and the back out. The screens slowly booted up one by one. He looked at the largest monitor and saw different buttons and controls. “I guess this one controls other things,” and he looked at one that read ‘illuminate tanks’ he couldn’t guess what that could mean so he pressed it because the only places still needing illumination was the dark unclear part further back from the octagon. What he saw made his jaw drop, it was an area a staircase down from the octagonal platform where he was standing, and there is where he saw 5 large glass vessels filled with a transparent liquid, they were each illuminated by individual internal lights and a central large overhead lighting system over the central floor area with the glass vessels in a circular array around it. But the truly shocking thing he saw was the contents of the glass vessels, it was 5 enormous men, it was 5 men with the physiques he always admired and craved, it was 5 body builders with incredible muscle size, one in each tank. Cameron was awestruck and walked down the steel stairs that lead to the tank area, he managed to get his head to come back to earth as he started to analyse the area where the tanks were situated. There were large wire bundles and various tubes that lead from the control platform over to the tank are which split overhead and came down over each of tanks. “I guess they feed power and that liquid to the tanks and I guess transport information to, and from the tanks to the computers up there,” he said speaking out loud. But there were other wires and tubes that lead other places, like from each of the tanks a tube went overhead and converged into a single pipeline which lead overhead to the middle of the area and then had a different tube that came down and it had an oddly shaped nozzle. There were also tubes that come from under the floor and up to 2 stands, one had 1 tube and the other held 2 tubes about 3meters (10ft) apart from each other and in between them on the floor there was a part of the floor made from metal and was an odd shape, kind of like the silhouette of a dolphin seen from above or the reclining dentist chairs but this was just flat so just the contour. And there were 3 little openings on the metal plate on the floor, one at the top, and two, one on each side about halfway down. His attention shifted to the men in the tanks so he approached the first one to the right, he read what a plate on the glass read “Subject number 5  –  NEN code: 300977  –  Height: 179cm (5’10”  –  Weight: 106,2kg (234lbs)  –  BF percentage: 11%  –  Age: 31” “Wow that is enormous, and so heavy.” Cameron found it even more appealing when a body builder wasn’t just big but also quite heavy for their size. He further examined the man in the tank, he was naked and suspended in the liquid in a limp posture like he was just floating under water, and he had two tubes probing his body, a thin one went inside his mouth which he guess provided life support, a very large one just laid on the bottom of the tank, and there was one that came down his back and went into his anus, the tube was transparent and rather thick, the diameter must have been about 4cm (1.5inches) or 14cm circumference (5inches), Cameron didn’t know why but looking at the huge pipe enter the body builder anus made him feel warmer and his heart started racing, and he also got quite the hard on and since he was wear compression shorts, the hard on was quite evident, Cameron never really felt any attraction to other men, but then again not much towards a woman either, the only that made his heart race was thinking about muscled physiques, he confused as to what he was feeling and how to interpret it but one he was sure about is that he liked it. Still with a hard on Cameron looked around him to see that all the men also had the same tubes probing them in them in the same places and the one at the bottom of the tanks, and all of them had information plates describing their weight, age, size etc. He really wanted to know what this place was so turned around and went back up the stairs to the control platform. He researched and looked, he went to books, papers and file after file on the monitors, he saw formulas, designs for machines, plans, schematics, theories and read document after document. He figured out that this place was built by a doctor L. J. Andrews privately and he was obsessed with ever larger muscular physiques, and he was designing a machine that could take muscles from one person and give it to another person, namely himself, and he went through a lot of research and development to design the method to achieve his goal, but ultimately although he finished successfully his research a couple of years ago he had to abandon it, even though the machine and formulas were done and correct, and he had “acquired” the donators for the muscle (acquired here meaning he kidnapped the 5 body builders) there was a major downside to the experiment, no matter how much he crunched the data and recalculated, there was only a 0.7% chance a subject could survive the muscle impregnation “there is less then 1% chance of survival?” Cameron muttered, a chill running down his spine. “There is more than 99% chance of dying if someone used this machine, no wonder the doctor abandoned it, I guess I should leave this buried away as I found it.” With that Cameron decided to leave that place. As he put the books and papers back into their places and closed the files on the various monitors, as he was closing the last file on the monitor next to the staircase that lead to down to the tanks, he accidently opened a control panel as he looked down at the tanks and pondered what it would be like to have a physique like that. Then as he was turning around he slipped on a patch of grease on the floor that he didn’t notice before, lunged his had forward to grab anything to keep him from falling down the stair, and he grabbed the screen he was working on but his hand slipped off of it and he tumbled down the stairs and rolled onto the floor below, he was dazed and disoriented from the bumps his head took and he didn’t notice he was laid out over the metal plate on the floor, as he was recollecting his thoughts and trying to figure out what happen he heard an audible *beep* and he felt a cold band stretch over his forehead and adjust tightly, he didn’t understand what was happening, suddenly two other cold bands also stretched over both his wrists and tightening down holding his arms in place just as the forehead band held his head down. As this was happening he finally came back to his senses, and then it hit him “fuck!! I must have pressed something when I grabbed the monitor!!”. He realised he might have turned on the machine with a less then 1% survival rate, and now he was stuck in it with no way to escaped! As he came to this morbid conclusion he felt something else happening which he directed his attention to. The plate on the floor he was strapped to started rising from the ground, it stopped at about 1m (about 3ft) above the floor, then one of the two tubes in the direction his feet were, started moving, it was the slender tube and it had a needle attachment, Cameron was scared but there was nothing he could do, he struggled and struggle and fought with the bands restraining him as the needle got closer to his body, but they wouldn’t come loose, so he had no choice but to resign himself to the situation and hope that he somehow makes it out alive as he laid on the cold examination table-like thing he was strapped to. The tube and needle reached up to about halfway to the side of his right thigh and pricked him and inject a small amount of a liquid with a blue hue to it and then receded back to its original position, the prick didn’t hurt too much and he was feeling drowsy or drugged Cameron wondered “well what is it going to do?” just as he finished that sentenced he felt the bands on wrists and head loosen up, and then they receded as well into the table. “Maybe the process takes place in stages, maybe I’ll be okay if I leave right now,” but after saying that and trying to get off the table he found himself unable to move his limbs. “What the fuck is going on here? Move. Move!” he yelled at his body but it didn’t he could only move his neck freely, his extremities seem to have been numbed by the injection, they felt normal in every way except they felt incredibly weak, like when your muscles are fatigued after you have worked them out extensively and you can’t even lift them up afterwards, that’s how they felt, and so he started worrying again and he remembered. “I forsake myself to it, guess I was just too happy that it stopped but I guess it’s not done yet with me yet,” he laid there for about a minute before something else happened. The second tube that was next to the one with the needle started moving, it was a much bigger tube, it was a dark grey colour, and it was as thick as the ones in the tanks that went in the anus of the body builders, and it had a strange attachment, and as it got closer he could make out what that attachment was, it was in the shape of a penis head, and the rest of the tube was ribbed with lines and bumps, making the whole length of the tube resemble the shaft of a penis, as it got closer to his body Cameron felt the table shifting, it moved his legs up from under the calves, into a position that resemble the position of sitting on a chair but on his back, and he realised the tube really was meant for his anus, he was scared just like before for the needle but a little voice in the back of his mind told him he wanted to try and know what it felt like, and his penis became erect in a second as he remembered what he felt when he saw it inside the bodybuilder, he was afraid but he wanted to feel it, the desire to experience it grew and grew, and before he knew he felt the cold tube shaped like a penis touch the outside of his anus, it was cold and sent shivers down his body. When the tube reached the outside of the anus it secreted a little bit of liquid that felt like gel so Cameron assumed it was lubrication, and then it really started, the machine started apply more pressure to open up the sphincter muscle, and it did, it finally reached the point where the anus couldn’t stay closed and the head popped right in and Cameron felt like something he never knew he could feel, it hurt a lot as it worked its way inside but it felt so good at the same time, it pried open his hole because of how wide the tube was but Cameron was enjoying and for a moment even thought, “Maybe this isn’t so bad,” a thought that quickly vanished as he felt the tube go deeper and deeper, it only hurt at the anus but he certainly felt it in his insides as it straightened the curves in his colon onto it until he was shocked to see it start to show as it protruded through his abs, and it protruded more and more till it finally stopped, it was pushing out onto his skin a full inch if not a little bit more, it didn’t hurt or feel like it hurt him in any ways but it was very incredible, Cameron sighed a sigh of relief since he thought the worst was over, but how wrong he was. A few minutes went by and nothing happened, but then out of nowhere he heard a machine start to make sound, it sounded like a pump to be exact, and he felt a little vibration inside from the tube he had in his abdomen, he knew something else was going to happen. And that’s when it really started. He saw body builder number 2 to his left side twitch slightly, and then the calf of the man suddenly shrunk down to just skin and bones! He gasped, it was unbelievable, the man’s huge left calf muscle, which looked to be at least 54cm (21inches) suddenly deflated, but then he noticed the tube that went into the man’s anus engorge at the anus, it was carrying a lump and transported it up until he couldn’t see it anymore, after a few seconds suddenly a lump appeared at the base of the tube that went inside Cameron “what is that?….” he thought to himself and the lump moved up the tube and it went inside him and he saw it then come the head that he could clearly see through his abdomen and the lump moved down his left leg and where his calf was and then suddenly engorged to four times the size of the lump in an very painful wave which made him cringe but he noticed suddenly he had developed calves that were about 41cm big (6 inches) and that’s when it hit him, the lump was the man’s calf and it transported it to his own body, albeit some of the size is lost in the process, then he noticed 4 other lumps consecutively show up moving up the tube and into his ass, which aroused him more as each one penetrated him, then he saw them come out the head of the tube into his abdomen and he watched as they started moving towards his left leg again under his skin, when he raised his head and looked at the legs of the other body builders he noticed they had all lost all the muscle mass in their left lower legs, and when he turned his view back to his left leg it was just as the 4 lumps merged and with a wave of pain started fusing and becoming his own muscle, the pain was like that of having a bone broken but localised to where the muscle was being absorbed only while at the same time feeling like having multiple orgasms one after another. It made Cameron grind his teeth and arch back with a tear flowing out of his eye, and his cock so hard and going wild ripped right through his compression shorts to full mast! And as the wave of pain and arousal subsided after about 6 seconds (the longest of his entire life) he was left breathing heavily and sweating profusely, then he looked down to be amazed at what happened, there was his left lower leg, with a 76cm (30inch) mass of muscle, he was amazed, awestruck by the sheer size, the striated muscle fibres visible through the skin, and the large bulging pumped up veins that covered it, it made his cock rage like a wild animal. It was beautiful. But as he was preoccupied admiring the beauty that had become part of his body the machine seemed to pick up the pace and started working faster. The sound of the machine working faster finally got Cam’s attention, as he looked up at the men he saw body builder 1 through 4 had deflated left upper legs, and as he reached body builder 5 he saw his left upper leg suddenly deflate too, all his thigh muscles just disappeared and he noticed the lump again exit his body through the tube, then he saw it start happening to the man’s right lower leg, then upper leg, and as he turned around it had happened to the other men as well, he knew what was coming next and he feared it yet desperately wanted to go through with it, the voice in his head that told him he wanted it had grown louder and louder and was overpowering the fear. Then the lumps started appearing, 4 of them in a file came up the tube and flowed into his asshole, arousing him and making his cock jerk, he saw them then protrude through his abdomen and start making their way to his left upper leg where they merged and again a surge of pain and pleasure flooded his system driving him wild as the muscle expanded and became part of his body, but Cam’s desire for the muscle was making him bare the pain so he could watch the wonderful thing that was happening to his body, his fear almost entirely subdued by the erotic desire to have those muscles. Cameron’s eyes were marvelled at what he saw, the muscle expanded and became his now 109cm (43 inch) left thigh, the sight made him reach orgasm and he cummed all over himself with more cum the he had ever seen before, then even though still partially lost in the pleasure more lumps appeared and started making their way to his right lower legs, then more lumps and at a faster rate started appearing, going to his upper legs, lower legs, left glute, right glute, each of his 8 individual abs, Apollo’s belt, left then his right pec, forearms, biceps, triceps, lats, delts, traps, each time making the muscle, or arms or legs contract with the expanding muscles. Every single individual muscle group, one after another, he saw as the muscles disappeared off of the bodies of the once body builders around him and come into his body and start being absorbed by him, every surge of unbelievable pain, every wave of erotic pleasure, he came again, and again, and again as the pleasure was unbearable as he saw his body parts engorge with monstrous mass, the muscle inflating like balloons, the muscle fibres showing through the paper-thin stretched skin, the veins growing, engorging and spreading all over his muscles, thickening with blood and testosterone from those 5 men, it was a sight to behold. When Cameron finally managed to came back to his senses after the thrill ride of pleasure he took, he was, needless to say, overjoyed by his body, muscles with size beyond what any mister Olympia could ever dream of achieving, veins as thick as ropes spread all over his muscles protruding and pulsating with blood, feeding them, all glistening from all the cum he shot over himself which only made his body more attractive, and the compression shorts you ask? Nowhere to be seen, they had exploded off of his engorging muscled body with only a few tatters stuck under his enormous glutes. Cameron was more than amazed and he was especially enjoying the huge veins that appear all over his muscles, he was covered in them, and they were massive and pulsated with testosterone, and the clearly visible muscle fibres that were clear as day to the eye, he loved it with all his might, but the ride wasn’t over just yet….. While Cam appreciated his new given body he noticed something weird start happening, the five tanks holding the now anorexic looking men that were once beautiful examples of muscle at its best. The five men started dissolving into the liquid and the liquid changed from transparent to a really thick-looking white almost gel-like substance. Then he heard an automated sounding voice from the computer say ‘DNA impregnation complete, beginning stage 2’ “WHAT? I’ve only gone through stage one yet, after all of this?!” he exclaimed, when he saw two much larger bulges move up the pipe that went inside of him, they were coming together in a pair, one next to each other and he felt them stop right at his anus, he then turned his attention up above his head where he heard rattling and as he turned his eyes upwards he saw the pipe dangling from above with the weird attachment, which was just like the cock head attachment the one inside him has, start moving down. He was again afraid yet again uncertain of what might happen next, his heart racing, and him body sweating profusely yet again. He tried to move his head since the pipe was coming straight down at his face when the band which had previously retracted appeared again and held his forehead firmly down, there was no avoiding it. The cockhead shaped nozzle of the tube touched Cam’s lips after it made its way down next to Cam’s head then up again to meet his mouth which he refused to open and allow it to enter, so the pressure increased more and more and his lips finally gave way, the long, thick, rubbery tube made its way into his mouth, reach the back of his throat, but before his gag reflects could even kick in it made its way down his throat and it kept going down, more and more as he saw more of it disappear in front of him into his mouth, he guessed he had swallowed about 30cm (1 foot) of it before it stopped, then like in unison both machines started doing something…… The one that had violated his now rock hard bubble ass and protruded through his now steel cut solid 8-pack abs started retreating from his ass, he was relieved thinking the approximately 40cm (16 inches) of tube that was inside of him was finally leaving his body, but as the head was just about to leave his hole, the machine re-adjusted itself to a more pronounced 90° angle and started making its way back inside, until it reached the base of Cam’s hard cock with a painful pressure, then the pressure increased and it hurt more and more, then he felt a really hot sensation in his crotch like he was in a hot bath, and although in pain he saw something amazing, the tube’s cockhead started expanding and entering the base of his cock, his eyes couldn’t believe it, as he bit his lips from the pain, but he wouldn’t stop looking at what was happening, it made its way painfully up the shaft stretching it to the 14cm (5 inch) circumference of the tube, and he saw the thicker and wider head leading the way, stretching and engorging it until it reach and stretched the 7inch cockhead of Cam’s penis, then the pain increased as it started stretched longer, and longer, it went on and on but it did so while sending waves of pleasure to Cam’s brain, it was delicious, it stretched to a full rock hard, massive length of 40cm (16inches) then stopped when the two large bulges, each about the size of an orange, were absorbed into the ball sack, and as it was absorbed, ropes of veins grew onto them and he started feeling the breeze on his stiff hot dick, it had become part of his body as well Cameron realised in a disbelieving yet still joyous shock. This huge, thick, hot, hard piece of man meat, was all his, he jerked it to see if it was true and it jerked, it was more than he ever dreamed off. The rest of the tube that was behind the huge bulges that became his balls, retreated outside to their original position next to the needle. That’s when a different noise caught Cam’s attention “There is still more?” he thought to himself, but without any fear now, he was now determined to see this through, this accident had given him the muscles and the cock he could only ever dream off, he wants it all now and he going to thoroughly enjoy it. It seems the muscles and cock not only enhanced his body but also his ego had been boosted up, and he liked it. Then he noticed the white liquid that formed from the men who were once in the tanks starting draining, the level was going down inside the tanks, when he felt the tube that went down his throat start vibrating a little and so he looked up. He saw through the transparent tube a white liquid moved downwards in the tube and it went into his mouth and he felt the flow of the liquid through his throat and as it pumped out into his chest, and he felt something strange, but in his pecs, so he looked at them and saw them swelling and pulsating and it plunge him into an orgasmic thrill ride of pleasure, it was a magnificent sensation, and he arched back from how erotic it felt while his mammoth dick jerked up and down. The tube kept pumping the liquid inside of him and into his pecs and the pecs swelled to twice their size then stop swelling but kept contracting with every massive pump into them, and Cam’s from the corner of his eye even though he was barely able to think from the pleasure he was in could see the tanks slowly drain empty, which took he could only guess was around half an hour, half an hour of toe curling, orgasmic bliss, when it started to subside he was surprised he managed to stay sane after en experience like that, and slowly the pleasure started dying down and the pumps became less intense, which is when he finally noticed that his pecs did not shrink down, but stayed at the doubled size, and looked gorgeously tight and hard, but his nipples had grown to almost triple their thickness and protruded more than 2 cm (1 inch) now and were as stiff as a hot cock. As he admired them he felt the tube retreating from him and as the head left his mouth the last bit of the liquid that was left in the tube, about a litre, pour into his mouth filling it up and then pour all over his face, and it tasted like warm, deliciously sweet and salty honey as he swallowed it down, and he recognised the smell and knew it right away that it was steamy cum, he never tasted it before or anything that tasted as delicious, it was all over his rosy lips and felt good on his face. At the same time the part of the table holding his legs up in the air lowered back down, and as it did he was regaining the feeling back in his legs and arms, and he tried to move, and he did, he managed to get off of the table and the first thing he could bring himself to do was touch himself, touch himself all over, feel the muscles up, grasp his beastly pecs and dig his fingers into the solid flesh, slide his fingers over the striations on his legs, to pas his hand over his marble abs, to feel up the ropes of veins on his 40 cm (16 inch) cock, to grope his massive balls bigger than a baseball each. All of this massively aroused him which is when he felt his chest and abs start getting wet and he looked down at his shelf-like pecs and saw something fantastic, cum was coming out of his nipples in a stream, and grabbed his left pec and squeezed and a long squirt came out of it, more than 10 times as cum in that squirt then in a regular man’s ejaculation. He squeezed again this time catching the cum and he doesn’t know why but an almost euphoric hunger came from within him for that cum and licked it all clean off of his hand, and it was delicious, so he squeezed again, and again, and again, licking it up each time, and each time the quantity increased until every squirt released about half a cup of cum, yet his pecs didn’t shrink down, nor did it feel like it was running out of cum, it just kept producing more until it satisfied his hunger. As he finished up his meal Cameron looked to the stairs for a way out, to go out into the world as a new man, and enjoy every moment of his new life. His new life of monstrous muscles, that no man would ever be able to match or surpass again, and to be the epitome of lust, beauty and strength. The End........ ?
  24. Some quick smut I banged out today. Give it a like on my Tumblr if you're so inclined. Inspired by a photo Michael Kidd, shot by Rey Rey's Photography. He is not the character, this is fiction, you're an adult so you know the drill. Please, don't sue me. I'm poor. *** Dad wouldn’t tell me what he was up to but he was bigger. The way he filled his shorts in was obscene. He said he was just working out harder. Right. It had only been a month since mom left him and he’d grown. He been growing. He kept growing. My father got visibly larger every day. We’d worked out together before. Lifting weights was our regular father/son bonding since I was twelve. Even when I came out, we didn’t miss a session. But almost imediately after mom left, he insisted on training alone in the basement. He would’t let me down there anymore. Said it wasn’t me, just that he needed space alone. I figured he was crying down there, needed a place where he didn’t have to be “strong” when he felt weak and helpless. Then I heard the grunting through the vent. At first I thought he had a dog down there. A weird ass dog to boot. Maybe one of those mutts from Ghostbusters. Mom was allergic to dogs but dad had grown up with them. He actually got choked up talking them. He always stopped to pet dogs who came across him when he was out. But I never heard those sounds when he wasn’t down there. He’d have told me if he had a dog. None of those dogs made the sounds I heard. They were borderline sexual. That’s why I had to go down there. I needed to know what he was doing, why he had to be alone instead of spending man-time with his only child. He left the door unlocked one day while he was out. I’d been coming over mre often to check on him. Dad had said some stuff that made me worry he might hurt himself. Break-ups will cause that, especially one after thirty years of marriage. But I was glad he was out. I thought he might have found a girlfriend. And it gave me a chance to snoop. But I wasn't ready for what I found. The muscle mags were one thing. Dad was working out hardcore. Okay. Not that I ever knew he had so many. Then I saw that some of those mags had nudes. I didn't even know they still published skin mags with the Internet going strong. So my dad was gay and didn’t even bother to tell his queer as fuck only son. Terrific. And the mags were scattered everywhere. Pages were lying loose on the floor. Some were stapled to the wood paneled walls. Then there were the rags. Torn up t-shirts. Ripped pants. Jockstraps with the jock torn open. All scattered everywhere. So my dad was turning into the Incredible Hulk in the basement? No wonder mom had left. One of the shirts--a nice polo shirt I’d gotten him for his birthday, I might add--was stuck to the wall like he’d thrown it there. I saw splatter marks from the impact. That splatter? It was cum. Cum was fucking everywhere. Some of it was even fresh, scattered all over the mags and the exercise equipment. Pools of it. The smell was overwhelming. And it made me hard as a rock. I’m not even a smells guy but it turned a switch on in my brain and I couldn’t turn it off. I tried. Something about that stench made me feel manlier, like I was getting bigger and stronger just from inhaling my father's crazy-ass super loads. I took deep snorts of the stench. It made my nose buzz. It didn't even smell like cum or sweat as much as it smelled like manhood. And manhood smelled terrific! It felt terrific! I put my finger into some of the cum that he'd shot on the lifting bench and thought "fuck yeah, dad." I had a vision of him in his more powerful body pushing those weights up and down while he was rock hard and... I snapped back, sickened. I was in my childhood basement, holding my crotch in my hand while I was putting a cum coated finger into my mouth while rock hard, thinking about my own father. I got the hell out and thanked my lucky stars that Dad hadn't come home to catch me. But I was still rocking a stronger hard-on of my life for two hours, even though I tried to think about anything other than sex. Then the call came. “Abel,” dad said, “Let's go for a walk.” His voice was cold. Growly in a way that was unfamiliar. I hesitated but said yes. If he wanted to yell at me, so be it. I had some yelling to do too. When I got to the park he walk looking alpha as fuck. That had become standard but the effect never diminished. On that day, he seemed twice as manly as the day before and I hated it. On any other man that would be instant boner fuel. Thick, vascular thighs. Pumped arms. Gray beard. But he was my dad. Even gay boys don’t get hard to their own dads. I never had before. Then I caught a whiff, just a little whiff, of that freak man-smell, It might have been my imagination. Didn’t mater. I felt my dick buzz all over again. And I felt shame. “I’m not mad, Abel. I wish you hadn’t gone down there but, well...” Dad kept his eyes on me and I was the one who looked away. “That’s fucked up, Dad. That’s really... I don’t wanna know.” Sometimes we tell lies thinking they’re the truth. “You have to know now. I can’t keep it secret much longer anyway.” “Secret? What?” Just because dad wasn’t yelling didn't mean I couldn't. “Is this the shit that drove mom away?” “No. But if she hadn't left, this wouldn't have happened. I'm glad it happened too." “God damnit. Just tell me what's going on so you can get it off--" I winced. Bad word choice "--your chest." And, with even better timing, I noticed Dad's chest flaring. He'd always had a good shape to it but, for the first time, I realized my dad had pecs. Big ones. "Are you gay, Dad? Did you let me come out to you and not tell me you were gay too? Because that’s really fucked up. That’s fucking cruel. That’s...” My voice was breaking. “It’s not quite like that. I mean...” I shouted “Then what the fuck is it?” “Shut up.” If he'd slapped me with the back of his hand, it wouldn't have been as effective. “Follow me.” And I did follow, red faced and sniffling. We followed a paved trail deep into the woods, then he went off on a dirt path. I thought it was for bikes but it was too narrow and unkempt. “It happens at home sometimes. I like that. Gives me a chance to explore it on my own. But it's better here.” I screwed my face up in disgust but, before I could complain, I caught that scent again. “It’s better with the others. It’s stronger. Fuller. I dunno. I need to be with the others.” “There’s a group of you? Aw, dad. You were always warning me about internet freaks and now--” “This ain’t on the internet, Abel. And you better not tell anyone. We can’t let outsiders know.” That was when I noticed Dad's voice. It was deeper. Strained. He huffed and puffed. He put his hands on a tree and stretched out. His back... it was wider. "That smell means it's coming, son. It's coming real strong." I heard footsteps. Leaves rustling. “I’m sorry about this. But you won’t be. It’ll bring us closer together, I promise.” He punded his fist against a tree. I heard something snap. Not a branch from the men walking towards us but from his body. There was another snap. Then Iooked down at his ass. How and when my father had gotten a bubble butt, specifically a perfect bubble butt, was beyond me. And all of the sudden, as he arched his back forward, popped that ass out, cried out, and the cloth split open. I saw my father's ass crack for the first time in my life. And I smelled that superhuman man-funk erupting from his skin, stronger than what he'd left in the basement. And as my dad grunted and groaned and swelled and stretched, I saw those others come out. They were not men. Men aren’t that big. Guys spend whole paychecks on drugs and gym hours to look half as powerful. Now I know it’s a waste. They wore tatters that were wrapped around their carved-stone arms and legs. One man tore the remains of a shirt from his chest. Schwarzenegger could only dream of having a chest that big with a waist that small. I didn’t say no. Didn’t say yes either. I might have flinched or pushed a hand away once. But I walked head first into someone's someone’s hard, hairy, inhuman chest and any resistance I had went at that touch. I sank to the ground, surrounded by a set of Tom of Finland super cocks that all had a variation of my father’s freak smell. Then I found the one that wasn’t a variant. “I have to do this, Abel" he said. He pressed my head against his crotch. "I tried to fight it but I don't want to anymore. I wan’t you to be one of--” The moment he said “us.” I clamped my mouth on his cock and he growled. His voice dropped another octave. “I should have done this sooner!” the others laughed. Then they cheered. They cheered because the saw the start of my body swelling up and stretching out. I moaned because I felt stars exploding inside myself. I roared because I felt like a man. More than a man. More than an animal. When people ask me what's going on, I tell them I'm working out harder. It's true. I haven't bought new clothes yet. I don't want to. I'll do so when I'm down to my last set. Then I'll buy a new wardrobe to destroy. I've moved back in with Dad. It's easier that way. More private. More satisfying. When the urge overwhelms one of us, we both go for the ride. The house is a mess now. We fuck too much. Break too much. The neighbors are complaining. They say there's a smell coming from the house. The women don't like it. But the men? They've been poking around. Trying to see what's going on. Needing to smell what's going on. I think they'll come around soon. They might do it without us. I'm already seeing the changes on their bodies. Less fat. Less bone. More muscle. More men. They're looking alpha as fuck these days, but Dad is the real alpha. I'm second in command. We're sitting back. Watching it happen. Waiting. It won't be long. We can wait. Barely.
  25. [[Not much of a polished story yet, but thought I'd share regardless. Sorry for any typos! Just an idea I had been playing with for a bit now. Let me know what you think! Seriously, I love comments and critique. HAPPY GROWING!]] Finally, it had arrived. After hours of checking tracking numbers like a drug-user waiting for that next fix. Mike heard the knock on his door and rushed to it's attention. He opened the door swiftly to see a package which contained his new mouse and drawing tablet. Hundreds of dollars spent on this state-of-the-art technology, days of waiting, but finally... Mike plugged in his new peripherals, turned on his drawing and animation program, and smiled. It had been some time since he was last able to draw any digital characters. He had the perfect one in mind. Flex Surge, his most popular OC (original character) who has graced many webcomics of both adventure and lust. Without much hesitation Mike put his pen to the tablet and began sketching away. Lightly making the framework to the body, drawing shapes and connecting them with flowing lines. As if it were meant to be, each stroke of his pen slowly brought to life the character like never before. After an hour of steady work and painful focus, Flex Surge had come to life in digital form once again. However, there was a small problem. Literally. Anxiously Mike scrolled through all the tools within the design program. He knew the tool he needed, but was brought to a frozen halt when he spotted a new tool, the "Swell" tool. This tool was more so what he needed than the other tool. "Was this even in existence before?" he thought to himself. A moment passed before he shrugged. His fingers typed CTRL+S, a prompt on the screen marked the project as saved. He then clicked the Swell Tool and hovered over Flex Surge's arm. Mike itched his right arm as a warming sensation reverberated from the same area his mouse settled on the screen. With caution he clicked right at the center of his characters bicep. A small prick hurt his own arm, but nothing happened. Uncertain of how to use the tool, he decided to click and drag the tool over his characters bicep. He did so slowly and with focus. So much focus the sound of his cat knocking a glass off the table startled him. His mouse slid up four inches before the click was released. The itching on Mike's arm continued. Only this time it was increased ten fold. His breath quickened and his fingers started to get numb. It felt like he was running a marathon with which how hard his blood was pumping. And then it happened... A searing pain coursed across his bicep. Mike clutched his left bicep with his right hand. The pain continued for a good thirty seconds before disappearing into a pool of warmth. Then the bicep grew. His hand rose, palm spread under the enlarging muscle fibers below. Mike removed his hand scared, but aroused. His bicep continued to grow, slowly but surely, as never before seen veins pressed against the warm skin. An inch, or four, and within a minute his bicep stopped growing. With surprise Mike ran to the mirror by his bed and flexed it. The bicep puffed out with such size that his body responded sexually. Seeing this sent Mike into a rage unlike any other. His blood pressure rose and his breathing heightened. His cock twitched a bit, before growing itself, pressing against its' captor. Such euphoria and pleasure had not been felt before. Mike reached down and grabbed his throbbing warm cock, and decided, more...