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Hey everybody, just wanted to post this here as well. I finally finished my newest story and will be posting it in the replies below over the next few days. It's my take on the muscle theft genre. I've been slowly but surely cranking this out over the last year and a half or so, and it's over 40k words long, so strap in! 

If you like ginger musclebear giants, muscle theft/drain, big guys growing huge, mindless addiction to getting bigger and bigger, and/or greedy meatheads turning into giants, then this story is for you!

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This first chapter is mostly set-up, introducing Chuck and telling how he initially gets his powers. Bear with me, there's lots of growth and sex in the next few chapters! =)

 

Chapter 1

 

Chuck shouldered the door open heavily and trudged into his apartment. It was late, later than he intended to get home after staying out drinking longer than he had planned. He slumped his work bag onto the clutter on his couch and tossed his gym bag—unused again today—next to it. Sighing and grunting, Chuck sat down and started untying his heavy steel-toed work boots fit for his job at the construction site. They thumped heavily as he tossed them back over by the door. Chuck shrugged out of his heavy Carhartt work jacket, which fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up, rolling his eyes a bit at the “Chuck” name patch his contractor had required him to add, and set it on the bench.

 

Chuck moved his way to the bathroom and unzipped his dirty jeans, pulling out his cock and relieving himself with a heavy breath. He looked in the mirror and sighed, grimacing slightly. He was handsome enough, with piercing blue eyes, pale skin, and a short red beard that caught a lot of peoples’ attention, but he felt deeply dissatisfied with the rest. He had wrestled in high school and did intermural sports in college, but that had given way to an average-looking 5’9” and 210lbs, more extra padding than muscle, and not nearly as big or strong as he would have liked. And at 36 years old, he knew he was getting past his prime. He shrugged his shoulders and unbuttoned his red flannel plaid shirt, revealing some golden red chest hair. He adjusted his hat, the same maroon and gold Minnesota Gophers cap he had since college, revealing the bald surface underneath, and flushed the toilet. His hat rarely left his head, and he pulled it on snugly after zipping up his fly.

 

His stomach grumbled even though he had drank 6 Buds at the bar, and he started digging around in the fridge. On the counter lay old issues of weighlifting magazines and Sports Illustrated, with burly muscular men and headlines for how to gain muscle and train smarter. Chuck liked to think they were motivational, but he rarely found time or energy enough to go the gym, even though he had memberships to two different ones near his apartment. Construction was hard work, especially when it was 50, 60 hours a week sometimes when added to his second job as a part time overnight security guard at an office park. It didn’t leave much time for the gym, and he certainly found it hard to work up the motivation to go after 10 hours or more of manual labor.

 

Chuck thought about making a protein shake, looking at the dust-covered jugs of powder sitting above his fridge, but instead he ripped open a pack of Oreos and grabbed a gallon of whole milk, not bothering with a glass. He carried them over to the couch, pushed aside some empty wrappers and takeout boxes and slumped onto the couch. He flicked on ESPN, where they were showing a replay of last year’s World’s Strongest Man competition. Chuck sighed, feeling envious of the hulking brutes on the screen, and wished he could be big and strong like that. Idly rubbing his fattening cock and stuffing Oreos into his mouth, he resolved to go to the gym tomorrow, but deep down he knew he wouldn’t.

 

 

 

 

Chuck grunted as he set the heavy crate down with his coworker Erik. He flexed his cold, stiff fingers, cursing again at the freezing cold temperatures. Why had he taken this job? Wintertime was usually the offseason for construction in Minnesota, but this job building an extension to a U of M research facility was a notable, and lucrative, exception. Chuck wondered if it was really worth it as plumes of steam rose up from his mouth as he caught his breath.

 

“What the hell do they have packed in these boxes anyway, rocks?” Erik asked, shaking his head. “It’s ridiculous we have to load these in by hand,” he continued.

 

“They said it was sensitive material and they didn’t want anything misplaced. I don’t know, bud. I just do what I’m told,” Chuck grunted as they went and picked up the next crate. “Besides,” Chuck said through clenched teeth, “it’s a good workout!”

 

“Ha, fuck you and your workout, let’s just get this over with,” Erik said and they kept working, carrying them inside the unfinished shell of the lab they were helping build.

 

Lunchtime finally rolled around and Chuck and the rest of the construction team—cold, dirty, and sweaty—moved into the existing, finished area of the site that had been sectioned off for the crew. Chuck found his bag and went off to find some quiet space. He usually liked to eat alone. He found a door marked “Private” and tested it. Open! Finally some peace and quiet from the likes of Erik.

 

Inside Chuck saw machines and equipment he had never seen before. He found a stool and some open space and started unpacking his lunch. While eating, he took a closer look. No wonder this room was usually locked off; looks like it was where one of the 3D printers was. He knew his team was building lab space for another couple printers, and this must be where their first one was kept. Getting up from the stool, he went closer to the printer. Next to it was a small canister, like a CO2 compressed air cartridge but bigger, with a label “NX-1” written in sharpie on some masking tape.

 

“Huh, I guess all types of printers need cartridges,” Chuck said with a smirk, flipping the cartridge in his hand. He didn’t even know how these things worked, but didn’t really care. He got a closer look at the little cartridge when suddenly his water bottle fell off the counter, hitting the floor with a loud smack. Chuck flinched, surprised, and felt the knob on the cartridge twist in his hand.

 

An acrid-smelling blue mist exploded from the cartridge, spraying Chuck in the face, causing him to fall back and sputter. It got all over his hands, face, eyes, and even into his mouth before a panicked Chuck dropped it. The cartridge pinged onto the floor as it continued to hiss and spray mist into the air. Coughing and blinded, Chuck gasped and breathed in more of the gas, inhaling whatever was in there. Chuck tried to stand but found his body felt suddenly numb, weak, and tired, like he didn’t have the strength to get up, all energy drained from his body. “H-help!” he cried, but it only came out as a raspy wheeze instead of the shout he had intended.

 

The room filled up with the blue gas, and Chuck breathed in more of it until he passed out.

 

He awoke a few hours later when his boss found him.

 

“Chuck! What the hell are you doing, sleeping on the job? Unacceptable! I’m docking this time from your pay, you know,” his boss yelled angrily.

 

Chuck was never one to stand up to his boss, even though he wished he did. “S-sorry boss, I passed out… there was a mist that came from this canister, and…” Chuck said, confused and groggy from his experience.

 

“Bullshit, Chuck, just get your shit together and get back to work. Jesus, what the fuck do I pay you for,” his boss hissed and stormed out of the room.

 

Chuck looked around at the room. It was fine, just as it had been when he entered, no trace of blue mist or gas or oil whatever had been spewing out of that cartridge. He touched his face, his clothes. No trace of the stuff. Had he just dreamed it? No, it had happened…but then where did the stuff go? Chuck had no clue. He picked up the small metal cartridge and looked it over. He looked around the room but couldn’t find anything to explain what he had been exposed to.

 

Sighing and setting the canister back where he found it, Chuck packed up his bag and left the room. At least he felt totally normal and wasn’t like coughing or anything. With a shrug, he shut the door, not noticing the back side of the door said “Nanotech Research”.

 

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In this chapter, Chuck plays around with his fuck buddy Clint and starts to tap into something new and unexpected.

 

Chapter 2

 

Chuck awoke the next day feeling good. He was still a little weirded out by what happened at the construction site the day before—the strange mist knocking him out and getting into his lungs, then disappearing by the time he woke up—but he didn’t feel any worse for wear. He thought about going to the doctor, but it’s not like his insurance would cover anything even if he was hurt.

 

If anything Chuck felt strangely energized, like he had a little bit of a buzz going. He also felt very horny, he realized as he squeezed his thick 6 incher through the sheets of his messy bed. He bit his lip and growled, and his mind instinctively turned to thinking about getting bigger and stronger, about admiring big, muscular guys. He grabbed his phone and opened up Tumblr to start looking at size comparison pics—nothing turned him on more than seeing a big guy totally outsize someone next to them. He sighed and grunted heavily as he sat up, pulling his dick out and stroking softly, thinking about how hot it would be to be a foot taller and hundreds of pounds bigger than somebody, pounding away at a tight fuck hole, lifting them up and down…

 

Chuck opened up Scruff on his phone and decided to message his buddy Clint, a friend he sometimes fooled around.

 

“Feelin’ horny this morning, wanna cum over?” Chuck typed and hit send. Chuck was still pretty deep in the closet, especially with his family and guys at work, but he chatted with guys on Grindr and Scruff and occasionally had them over. Clint was a skinny, furry otter who liked Chuck’s beard and relatively thick build; he liked to hook up when he “wanted to scratch that bear itch”. Whatever Clint thought of him, Chuck didn’t care. He just liked getting his dick wet with the help of a smaller guy every so often, and got off on the size difference between his 210lb frame and Clint’s lean 170lbs. Clint was taller than him by a few inches, but it didn’t matter once he was underneath Chuck.

 

Chuck’s phone chirped, and he smiled.

 

 

 

 

Chuck opened the door and Clint walked in.

 

“Hey big guy, thanks for texting,” Clint said as he slipped off his shoes and set his Starbucks on the table. “It had been a while and I have just been dying for a good fuck, the last couple weekends at the bar have been SO dead, I mean just it’s the same old faces every night and Liam wouldn’t shut up about…” Clint yapped and yapped as Chuck kinda tuned him out. This was the flip side of having him over for a fuck, but it was usually worth it.

 

Looking at Clint, Chuck felt the buzz he had woken up with intensify, and his cock chubbed up more in his sweatpants.

 

When Clint finally paused to breath, Chuck interjected. “You wanna get on with this, or what?” Chuck said gruffly, stepping closer to Clint’s slender frame and wrapping his arms around him.

 

“Well well, aren’t we just hot to trot this morning? You’re looking good, bear!” Clint said as he turned to him and squeezed Chuck’s shoulders and arms. “You feel a little bigger!”

 

Chuck growled. He liked hearing that, even though he wasn’t sure if it was true, since he hadn’t made much progress at the gym lately. “Thanks bud, I try but it’s hard with my work schedule,” he said and flexed a little, feeling happy to get attention. He started thinking about what it would be like to be bigger, and he felt his whole body buzz with sexual energy, like what he felt this morning but amplified.

 

“I don’t know how you work construction, ugh,” Clint said as slipped out of Chuck’s arms and started walking back to the bedroom. “It just sounds exhausting and dirty, no thanks. I get tired enough at Starbucks!”

 

Chuck shrugged and followed Clint, staring at the otter’s tight ass bouncing as he walked. Chuck scratched his beard and smiled, feeling his cock swell even harder.

 

“Your ass looks good,” Chuck says hungrily, licking his lips.

 

“Heh thanks big guy, you know I try to keep it tight for you,” Clint purred and took off his shirt, revealing the hairier-than-you’d-expect chest and tummy. He was lean and flat-chested, even skinny; 170lb is pretty thin on a 6’1” frame.

 

Chuck followed suit, removing his tank top and moving in to make out. Copper colored hair covered Chuck’s chest and tummy in swirls, a tinge of grey starting to creep in from the top of his pecs. His paunch bounced a bit as he threw his shirt onto the ground. He slipped off his sweatpants and boxers, legs showing some muscle. Their tongues wrestled and Chuck rubbed his beard against Clint’s smooth face as they kissed.

 

“Hehe, that tickles!” Clint said and pulled away, falling onto the bed. “You bears and your beards, grr!” he said in an exaggerated tone.

 

“You like it, admit it,” Chuck said and followed Clint onto the bed, pressing his weight against the skinnier Clint.

 

“Maybe a little, short stack,” Clint said and they kissed for a while longer, both of their cocks swelling up harder.

 

Chuck pressed against Clint, feeling the skinny arms and chest pressing against his own bigger bulk. Chuck felt big for the first time in weeks, and compared the size of his arm with Clint’s.

 

“Look how damn skinny you are, little otter,” Chuck said and flexed his relatively big arm next to Clint’s. “I’m a lot bigger than you!” Chuck said, pumping himself up and feeling a tingle run down his spine again as he thought about getting bigger.

 

“Yeah big guy, bigger than me for sure, hehe!” Clint giggled and compared sizes. “Your belly’s bigger too, you know!” he zinged, jiggling Chuck’s tummy around for emphasis.

 

“Eh, I don’t mind that at all, gotta get bigger all over!” Chuck growled, getting into it more now, and he felt his body tingle harder than before.

 

“Yeah Chuck, I bet you wanna turn into a REALLY big bear, don’t you?” Clint said, rubbing his cock against Chuck’s and egging him on more, the hair on both of their chests scratching against each other. Clint knew what buttons to push.

 

“Yeah… YEAH!” Chuck growled and wrapped his arms around the skinny otter beneath him, squeezing hard.

 

For a moment, Chuck lost himself, caught up in the thought of growing bigger and bigger. He imagined himself at 250, 275, 300lbs or maybe even bigger someday, thick and strong, muscular and fat, a big muscle bear like the guys he saw on Tumblr and World’s Strongest Man shows, making guys like Clint look like waifs. He wanted to be bigger, more than he ever knew, the sudden, powerful desire for it all-consuming, and he gripped Clint tight, feeling a shiver run up his body.

 

“Unnnngggghhhh wow you squeeze hard, bear!” Clint moaned, feeling Chuck bear hug him, feeling a sudden weird numbness spread through his body. He grimaced as a tiredness and lethargy wash over him, like he was high or drunk but not in a good way.

 

Chuck, on the other hand, felt euphoric, imagining himself growing more, surging with more energy, becoming powerful and huge, losing himself in the fantasy as he squeezed the comparatively smaller Clint, who somehow felt smaller and skinnier in his grip as he bear hugged him. All he could think about was growing bigger—why had he never realized until now that it was the most important thing to him? He needed more, had to get more, could feel his body buzzing and tingling, couldn’t hear Clint asking him to stop squeezing so hard…

 

He shook his head, got his bearings and released Clint, who gasped as he got his air back. Chuck sat up in the bad, blinking hard and coughing, feeling the last euphoric tingles shiver up his spine, realizing his cock was harder than it had ever been in his life.

 

“Jesus Chuck that was some bear hug, I feel totally drained!” Clint said, getting his breath back. “That felt so good… you’re even bigger and stronger than I thought!”

 

Chuck growled at that, feeling his pecs pulse, feeling like he did after a good workout, pumped and energized and horny. “Yeah, stronger than I thought too… damn, never felt anything like that before, I feel… amazing!”

 

“You seriously look great, Chuck!” Clint said, reaching up to feel Chuck’s pumped up pecs and shoulders.

 

“What can I say, fucking you makes me feel great! Now turn over and let me go to work,” Chuck ordered, feeling an authority he had never felt.

 

“Ooh yeah, boss me around big guy, yes sir!” Clint said playfully, his ass puckering for it as he turned over and presented himself.

 

Chuck lubed up his cock, which throbbed angrily, looking red and swollen, bigger than Chuck had ever seen it. He loosened Clint’s hole up with rough fingers, getting even harder as he contrasted the skinny otter’s thighs with his own thick ones.

 

“Here comes your big bear, bud, get ready!” Chuck grunted and plowed into Clint, who moaned loudly. “Fuck, you feel tight, just how I like it!”

 

“Yeah, fuck me big guy!” Clint groaned.

 

Chuck looked down at his buddy, bent over and submissive, looking small next to his thicker frame. He felt strong, powerful, big! He fucked slow at first, feeling his thick cock plug Clint’s tight hole, pistoning in and out. Chuck flexed his pecs and arms as he fucked, his muscles feeling plumper and thicker than this morning. Was it just his imagination, or was he pumped up from sex? Whatever this new feeling was, he loved it.

 

Chuck pounded into his buddy hard, harder than ever, his thick cock feeling swollen in the tight ass of his friend. He reached forward and grabbed his Clint’s hips, lifting up and adjusting his friend’s weight more easily than he ever remembered being able to and pulling him back farther onto his throbbing cock.

 

“Unnnggg fuck me harder, Chuck, yeah you big fuckin’ bear!” Clint groaned, getting his bear fix, probably more than he expected.

 

“Yeah, I love when you call me big bear, little guy, gonna pound you HARD,” Chuck growled, and thought about growing even bigger. He gripped Clint’s hips and pounded, machine-like. He closed his eyes and imagined himself even bigger, growing thicker and stronger, his cock stretching out Clint’s hole until it wouldn’t fit and again realizing he needed more size. As soon as he thought about that, he felt the familiar tingling feeling spread through his body again, making him feel euphoric, taking his breath away. It was all that mattered, being bigger, needing more, feeling powerful and strong, more more more big big big now now now…

 

“Unnnggg Chuck, you’re making me so…ung…light headed,” Clint whimpered as he felt a cold numbness once again overtake him, Chuck’s cock filling him up even more. “Fuck me harder!”

 

“Hhhhaaaaahh, fuck yeah,” Chuck breathed as his train of thought returned, and he felt tingles surge into his body, making him feel bigger, heavier, stronger. He looked down at himself, pecs fuller and rounder, his little gut bulging out more, bigger balls slapping against Clint’s ass, and he grunted deeply, feeling himself getting closer to climax.

 

“Gonna get so damn big, fuck!” Chuck yelled as he exploded into Clint, cumming harder than he ever had in his life, his seed leaking out of Clint’s tight hole and oozing onto the sheets.

 

They both panted and groaned for a while before Chuck removed himself from Clint with a slick popping noise, grunting and sighing as he did. He backed up, breathing heavily, and sauntered over the bathroom, his legs feeling plump and hard.

 

“Holy shit,” was all Clint could manage.

 

“Yeah, bud. That was awesome,” Chuck said as he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tossed it over to Clint.

 

“You really stretched me out, man, you felt…thicker than before,” Clint said groggily, like he was high.

 

“Yeah man, I felt extra good today, super hard,” Chuck said and turned to grab a towel for himself in the bathroom. As he did, he saw himself in the mirror. He was noticeably bigger all over. His shoulders were wide, capped with round delts, curving up into bigger traps. His pecs looked thicker as he took a breath, and his belly paunched out a bit rounder. He raised an arm up and flexed his bicep, and it bunched up with more size than he remembered having. He grinned and laughed, not knowing what was going on but feeling amazing.

 

“Hoo man I’m gonna be walking around like a cowboy today,” Clint said as he got up gingerly and walked over to the bathroom.

 

Chuck moved past him to make way and noticed Clint didn’t seem that much taller, maybe an inch or two difference. Wasn’t Clint like 4 inches taller than him? What the hell…

 

 

 

 

As Clint closed the door to leave, Chuck shook his head. He still felt bigger, pumped up, and energized even now that he had come down from his sex high. What was going on? He went back into the bathroom, looking himself over. It wasn’t a trick; he looked bigger. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed these gains before? Maybe he was just full from dinner last night?

 

Whatever it was, Chuck felt good about his size for the first time in years…but he also felt more motivated to get huge than he had ever felt in his life. It was like something had unlocked in him, an intensity of his desire to get big he had never felt before. Any excuses he had made for himself earlier seemed silly to him now; what could possibly be more important than getting that energized feeling and growing more? He felt it deep in his bones, and it stuck around in the back of his head even as he ate his breakfast and put on his clothes.

 

As he slipped into his shorts and pulled on his favorite Underarmor gym shirt, he swore it felt tighter than he remembered.

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In this chapter, Chuck hits the gym, bigger and stronger than before, and learns to control his newfound abilities. 

 

Chapter 3

 

Chuck pulled up to the gym, still feeling great from fooling around with his fuck buddy Clint. He felt pumped and energized, more ready to hit the gym than he had felt in months, motivated and ready. He hurried from his car into the gym, the cold winter air causing his breath to steam into white plumes as he walked.

 

As he walked into the locker room to drop off his coat, he couldn’t help but grin at how snugly his Underarmour shirt was hugging his shoulders and arms. He hadn’t lifted in a while, so why was he feeling this great pump already? It had started when he felt that tingling buzz when he was fucking Clint, a feeling of energy humming into his body. What was that all about, he wondered as he locked up his coat and went to step on the scale.

 

The metal scale clanked as Chuck got on, and he adjusted the levels towards the usual 210 or so he expected. He set it there, and it still wasn’t balanced. Chuck decided to take his shoes off, as maybe that was throwing it off, but that didn’t make any difference. His clothes didn’t weight much, so that couldn’t be it either.

 

He adjusted it down a bit—maybe he had lost weight recently from working so much?—but no change. He adjusted it up slowly, first to 215. Still nothing. Then to 220. No way, he hadn’t been 220 ever. Still nothing.

 

“Hey, you guys know if anything is wrong with this scale?” Chuck asked a few of the other guys in the locker room near the scale. They just shrugged and went back to changing.

 

Chuck’s stomach fluttered. What was going on? Had he… somehow gotten bigger? He felt pumped, his clothes were tighter… but how? He moved the level on the scale until it balanced out.

 

225!

 

He had gained 15lbs since he last weighed himself a couple days ago. Chuck reached up and adjusted his Gophers hat, rubbing a hand across his bald head, his bicep bunching into a bigger, harder peak than he remembered having. How the fuck had this happened? He couldn’t have just gained 15lbs out of nowhere; he hadn’t been eating THAT much lately, and god knows he hadn’t been to the gym. 15 pounds didn’t just come out of nowhere, so what was going on? Maybe the scale was just wrong? But that didn’t fit with how pumped and swole he felt, didn’t fit with what he saw in the mirror earlier this morning.

 

He couldn’t help but grin. He tensed his pecs and swung his arms back and forth in excitement. He was bigger! Just what he had always wanted. He felt that same buzz from earlier shiver through his body as he thought about getting bigger, and he grunted. Suddenly all he could think about was growing more and getting pumped up. It was time to hit the weights.

 

He walked out into the gym and got to work. It was chest and tris day, and he started with some warm up weights on the flat bench, using 35lb dumbbells to get the blood flowing. They were way too easy and felt light even for a warm up. He worked his way up, feeling sweat start to spread over his body, feeling strong and energized, more pumped up than he ever remembered feeling at the gym. 45lb, 60lb, 70lb dumb bells; they still felt too easy. Every lift felt good.

 

He looked at himself in the mirror after his 4th set and almost gasped. His chest had never looked so good, pumped up and swollen with muscle. He grabbed the 80lb dumbbells, more than he had ever used when doing dumbbell bench press, and cranked out a set of 8, easily a PR for him. He dropped the weights with a satisfying *clunk* and sat up. He looked down at his chest, pecs engorged with blood, and tensed them one by one. He normally couldn’t do the pec bounce thing, but right now it felt natural and easy. A chuckle escaped his lips as he felt his heavy pecs dancing under the Underarmour, which hugged his furry skin tightly.

 

Chuck went about his workout and every exercise was like the first; weights felt lighter than ever, he felt like he wasn’t getting tired, and he put up PRs everywhere he went. Pec deck, incline bench, dumbbell flies, tricep pull downs, skullcrushers, everything felt great. Two-thirds of the stack on the pull down machine clanked down as he finished a set, more than he had ever done, and he looked in the mirror again, his tris swelling out into horseshoes of muscle, looking hard and strong, blond-red hair (had there always been so much?) covering part of his upper arm. His pale skin was ruddy with effort, and slick sweat made his arms shine.

 

He was so locked into his workout that Chuck didn’t notice the other guys in the gym as much as he usually did. He definitely wasn’t the biggest guy in the room, which he liked; it was nice to check out the other big meatheads in the gym, and it usually kept him motivated watching the bigger guys lift.

 

“Hey, would you mind giving me a spot?” Chuck snapped out of his reverie as an older, bigger guy in a grey tank top approached him and asked. Chuck grinned. “Sure, big guy, no problem,” Chuck said and followed the guy back over to a bench press. The other guy was a regular, and Chuck recognized him; probably 245lb and muscular, like he had been lifting for 30 years. He had 315lb on the rack.

 

“What’s your name again?” Chuck asked as the other guy laid down under the bar and shifted his weight to get in position. “Dave,” he said and got his hands in position. “I’m gonna go for 8 or 10, help me out on the last few reps,” he said to Chuck as he grabbed the bar and started lifting.

 

“Sure thing,” Chuck said and he put his hands in position under the bar, near Dave’s hands. Chuck had always admired this guy but never had the courage to introduce himself or say anything; he was in such better shape than Chuck and was much stronger. But that was the old Chuck. Not this new Chuck, who was riding high on newfound confidence.

 

“Four, five, six, you’re looking good bud, keep going,” Chuck said, encouraging Dave, who was focused and huffing with effort. Chuck was jealous of how big Dave’s pecs were, how they tensed and squeezed as he lifted. Chuck wanted to be that big, or bigger, way bigger, and all of a sudden he wanted it so bad. Chuck HAD to get bigger than Dave, and he felt that familiar tingle surge through his whole body.

 

“Seven, eight, come on, a couple more!” Chuck said and moved his hand closer to the bar. His hands brushed against Dave’s, and suddenly Chuck felt electric, an intense buzz shooting up his arms from where his hands connected with Dave’s. Chuck felt amazing, warm throbbing euphoria surging through his arms and into his body, and he felt every muscle of his body tense.

 

“Whoa, shit, little help,” Dave said as he suddenly faltered, the weight almost pushing down on his chest before Chuck caught it and lifted it up. The bar slammed back into the rack, and Chuck backed up.

 

“You alright, bud? Sorry I almost didn’t catch it in time,” Chuck said, walking around the rack. Dave sat up and shook his head.

 

“I don’t know what happened, I was feeling great and then all of a sudden I just lost it, felt like I had no energy to get those last couple,” he said. “Weird. Glad I asked you for a spot, though, you got it. I think that’s a sign that I should be done for the day,” Dave said as he stood back up.

 

Chuck compared their sizes as Dave stood. Dave looked noticeably less pumped up than just a moment before; his shoulders and traps seemed smaller, his arms less pumped, his chest didn’t have that nice fullness they had before. He was still a big guy, but not like before.

 

“Heh, yeah man I know what you mean. I’m having such a good day today though, think I might try to push it a little longer,” Chuck said as he suddenly realized he didn’t feel tired at all, even after having lifted for the last hour.

 

Dave shook his head and smiled. “Yeah man you look good! Haven’t seen you in a while but you look like you’ve been making some good gains!”

 

“Yeah, you think?” Chuck asked, and looked down. He looked bigger. He felt bigger! “Yeah man, I guess you’re right!” Chuck looked back at Dave and realized Dave didn’t look much bigger than he did.

 

“Anyway, have a good rest of your workout,” Dave said and he turned to head towards the locker room.

 

Chuck went back to the pulldown machine and looked in the mirror. He looked jacked, bigger than he had ever been, and way bigger than he had been earlier this morning. He grabbed the pulldown bar and started another set. It was easy. So easy! It had been a PR just a few minutes ago, and now he was cranking out another set of 12 like it was normal. He didn’t even feel tired; he felt like he could lift for hours.

 

He finished his set and took a step back. His shirt, a large, felt uncomfortably tight and showed off every bulging mound of muscle, especially his pecs and tris. What was going on? Everything was normal until he had thought about wanting to be bigger than Dave, tapping into the desire to be bigger that had been in the back of his head all day. He had felt that weird tingling feeling, and then he had accidentally touched Dave’s hands when he was spotting him. THAT’s when the crazy good buzz went all throughout his body, like… like energy was flowing into him from Dave.

 

He looked up and saw Dave heading out of the gym, looked tired and worn out. He waved to him and Dave nodded and trudged off. He looked noticeably less pumped, even smaller, than he looked when he asked Dave for a spot. Almost like he had lost 10lbs…

 

Chuck decided to go back into the locker room. He had to test something. Had to see for sure.

 

He walked fast back to the locker room, an excited tightness in his chest. He got into the locker room and stepped onto the scale after he took his shoes off. 200. 215. 225.

 

The scale balanced at 235lbs.

 

Chuck stepped off the scale, dumbfounded. It didn’t seem real, or possible, but there it was. He had grown 10lbs in the last hour somehow, and he was pretty sure it was from touching Dave. A shiver rippled up his spine as he realized this, like something inside him was telling him he was right.

 

“Holy shit,” Chuck said to himself as he realized the impossible was somehow true: he could drain people of their energy and steal their size to make himself grow bigger.

 

“This is some sci-fi shit,” Chuck thought to himself as he clenched and unclenched his right fist, feeling a tingle rush along his skin. He looked up and saw another guy changing at the locker next to his. He was smaller than Chuck, but had plenty of muscle on him. He looked like he had just showered. Chuck had to test it.

 

Chuck stepped up to his own locker, pretending like he was looking in there for something, and bumped against the other guy. The other guy adjusted his weight to move away from Chuck. Nothing happened. “Sorry bud,” Chuck said and he closed his locker.

 

Hmm. So it wasn’t just from contact. What was he missing? Maybe this was all just in his head. But then he remembered… when he was spotting Dave, he hadn’t felt the tingle until he started thinking about how jealous he was of Dave’s size…thinking about how badly he wanted to grow…how he NEEDED to get bigger, that urge in the back of his head that had been there since this morning silently screaming at him for MORE. He decided to try again, but this time he would focus on his desire to get bigger.

 

As soon as he thought about growing, he felt the tingle ripple up and down his skin, like he had switched something on inside of himself. He stepped over to the sink and again “accidentally” brushed against a guy who was heading back to the showers, a chunky overweight older guy. Immediately, as soon as he made contact, he felt something, felt a rush of energy into this body, so fast it took his breath away. His shirt was cutting into his arms and chest now, his pants feeling uncomfortable against his waistline and his boxer briefs pressing hard against his thighs, bulge, and round butt. The Underarmour rode up, exposing a sliver of furry belly. His beard seemed fuller and his forearms looked swollen and hairy. He immediately went back over to the scale.

 

240!

 

It worked. It was true… somehow, it was true. What could this have been from, Chuck thought to himself, excited and scared and confused and elated.

 

“Researchers at the U of M are investigating a possible theft in some research equipment at the new 3D printing lab that is currently under renovation,” the TV in the locker room suddenly blared. Chuck looked up and saw a picture of the construction site had been working at all week. “Authorities say experimental nanotechnology has gone missing in the last few days and are claiming that the construction company in charge of the project might be at fault,” the news story continued. They droned on as Chuck went back over to his locker.

 

Chuck looked down at his hands and remembered what had happened yesterday… that weird canister…the blue mist that had knocked him out…that oily substance that was somehow all gone when his boss found him. Another shiver rippled up Chuck’s spine and he knew it was true. Whatever he had been exposed to was inside him and had given him this power.

 

A rising panic suddenly filled Chuck’s mind—what the fuck was wrong with him, was it going to poison his body, how would he get it out?—but it was suddenly snuffed out and replaced with the overwhelming need to get bigger. To feel that buzz again, to have more energy, to get more! He shook his head and wondered why he was so worried about it, when all that really mattered was getting bigger. He clapped his hands and adjusted the chubby in his shorts as he decided he wanted to lift all day. He had never felt more energized, never felt better in his life!

 

He brushed by one more guy on his way back out to the gym, feeling a little surge of size pump into his body, 245lbs and ready to smash some PRs. THAT’s what mattered! He took off his hat and adjusted it—it suddenly felt too tight on his head—and sauntered off to the squat rack, his bigger shoulders and lats and thighs causing him to walk a little differently than he had been this morning. He fit his maroon and gold U of M hat back on his head and he grabbed a 45lb plate, lifting it up and racking it onto the bar.

 

Chuck spent hours lifting, getting sweaty and ripe, stopping only to get a protein shake from the bar at the gym. He didn’t feel tired until late afternoon. He resisted the urge to drain more size, even though he wanted to; he could feel it, like an itch that needed to be scratched, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. At least not yet.

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Chuck decides to visit his fuck buddy Clint again, shows him how his new size-draining powers (to the detriment of Clint), and then fucks Clint hard.

 

Chapter 4

 

Chuck woke up the next morning with the biggest, hardest morning wood he could ever remember having. He stretched in bed and felt all the new, thick size that had been added on to his body. He realized he didn’t feel sore at all from lifting yesterday, just bigger and harder. He reached down and squeezed his cock, moving it around and feeling a dribble of precum leak out.

 

He threw the sheets off and stumbled over to the bathroom. He had jerked off a couple times last night, and dirty clothes and towels dotted the floor of his disheveled apartment. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get to the mirror and see his new gains.

 

“Awww hell yeah,” Chuck grunted as he saw himself in the mirror. The new size was still all accounted for; it hadn’t been some crazy dream! He had weighed himself when he had gotten home, a solid 245, a 35lb gain from when he woke up yesterday. He shook his head, still baffled by it, and clenched his fist. He felt his skin tingle as he thought about wanting to grow more; it still worked. He flexed his right arm, bringing it up and seeing his shoulder and bicep bulge with new size. His pits stank; he hadn’t showered after the gym yesterday. He brought his arm down and tensed his pecs, watching his chest swell out, feeling the new muscle tense. He grinned as he exhaled, and noticed the new hair on his shoulders and spreading onto his back as he twisted around, admiring his thicker lats. He reached down and jiggled his tummy, clearly bigger than it had been yesterday, and laughed. He didn’t mind a gut… in fact, he kind of liked it the more he looked at it. He was already paunchy before, but there was just more of him now. His cock bounced to attention as he admired his new size, and he realized who he wanted to call to help him take care of that.

 

He tapped on his phone and called Clint.

 

“Hey Chuck, why the phone call instead of a text?” said the twink over the phone.

 

Chuck ignored this question and focused right on what he wanted. No point beating around the bush. “Clint. I need to come over and show you something and fuck that tight little ass of yours again,” Chuck said. He wasn’t sure why he was being so straightforward, it wasn’t like him. But it just seemed to make sense.

 

“Ho ho, well well, somebody must be horny. Back at it again two days in a row? Usually it takes weeks to hear back from you again,” Clint said. “I’m still all stretched out from yesterday,” Clint teased.

 

“Good,” Chuck grunted. “You’ll need it. I need to show you my gains,” Chuck said, admiring the way his right bicep bunched up in the mirror as he held up his phone. So much bigger than yesterday.

 

“Your ‘gains’ huh? You bears and your lifting, haha. But yeah, I’m not sure how much bigger you could be than yesterday, but sure, come on over,” Clint said.

 

“I’m on my way,” Chuck growled and hung up. He backed up, noticing how much bigger his thighs were in the mirror, and squeezed a drop of precum onto the floor. A ripple of anticipation hummed under his skin.

 

 

 

 

Chuck thumped loudly on the door of Clint’s apartment. It was in a nicer neighborhood than his, and the door was still decorated with Christmas lights from the month before. The train ride over felt like an hour because he was so horny and eager to show Clint his gains. It didn’t help that seeing people on the train made him tempted and hungry for size. He constantly had to keep himself controlled and resist reaching out to the nearest stranger and taking a little bit of size. As much as he tried to distract himself by looking at his phone or thinking about something else, his mind kept wandering back to getting bigger and wanting more size, like a song that was stuck in his head.

 

Finally Clint opened the door. “Well hey there big fella, get in here. Twice in two days! You’re going to have to take me out and start calling me your boyfriend if this keeps up!” Clint teased as he led Chuck inside. The TV was on in the living room, a news report that Clint moved to switch off. “U of M officials are looking into the possible theft of an experimental 3D printer technology that transfers energy into matter. The substance is thought to be a major breakthrough for 3D printing, enabling factories of the future to create matter from a power source. The nanotechnology division says they have no explanation for—“

 

Chuck shrugged off his heavy work jacket and kicked off his boots. Both felt very snug. He was wearing an XL red flannel shirt, one of the only XL shirts he owned, and the baggiest jeans he had. Even with the loose-fitting clothes, he was clearly much bigger than he had been the day before, which Clint realized with a gasp as he turned around.

 

“Jesus, Chuck, you weren’t kidding! Do you have a great pump from the gym or something, a new pre-workout powder, or maybe some kind of severe allergic reaction?” Clint joked and stepped closer, reaching out and feeling up Chuck’s arms, shoulders, and chest. It was all real, thicker and harder and beefier.

 

“Nope, little bud, it’s all me,” Chuck grunted matter-of-factly, and he tensed his muscles. He grinned. He liked Clint admiring his muscles. It made him feel even bigger.

 

“What the fuck… how is this real? Like, no one gains this fast, honey, and I’ve known plenty of muscle marys over the years,” Clint said as he continued to feel Chuck’s new size under the flannel. Chuck noticed that Clint didn’t seem as tall as he didn’t yesterday.

 

“I do,” Chuck said. “I don’t know if you’d believe if I told you how, but I’m bigger than yesterday by a lot.”

 

“Define ‘a lot’” Clint said as he moved his hands down to Chuck’s tummy and rubbed that too.

 

“35 pounds,” Chuck said.

 

“Bullshit, show me,” Clint said and started tugging at Chuck’s shirt.

 

Chuck grinned and felt his cock throb. He was enjoying stringing Clint along. He backed up and unbuttoned the flannel and then struggled out of it, his thicker shoulders and upper arms catching a bit, until all he had on was a tight tank top. The straps stretched over his traps and pecs, and they didn’t quite cover up the bottom of his furry tummy. His shoulders, dusted with a new layer of hair, stuck out to the sides like softballs, round and hard.

 

“No way, you gotta get on my scale, this is too much,” Clint said excitedly and pushed Chuck towards his bathroom. Chuck just laughed and sauntered further into Clint’s apartment.

 

“I just calibrated this thing yesterday because I thought it was broken, apparently I lost 15 pounds since I last weighed myself? Must be from all the yoga,” Clint said and beckoned Chuck to stand on it.

 

Sure enough, the scale blinked and then read 246.

 

Clint stared at the scale, and then at Chuck. Chuck just grinned back at him. “Told you, bud,” he grunted and stepped off the scale, bumping into Clint and forcing him back. “I’m a good, what, 90 pounds bigger than you now?” Chuck growled and leaned against Clint. He felt the tingling, his body wanting to take more, a fuzzy static feeling in his head, but he took a deep breath and held back. For now.

 

“F-fuck, how the hell… this is so hot, but so weird,” Clint said, a little freaked out but obviously turned on, if the rapidly hardening cock pressing against Chuck was any indication. “How?” was all the usually verbose Clint could manage.

 

“I can take size from people,” Chuck said like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I know it sounds impossible, but I just concentrate on wanting it, and then I feel this tingling, and the energy flows into me. I got exposed to some stuff at work last week, and ever since then… yeah. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I tested it out at the gym yesterday, and well…look,” Chuck explained, and then reached down to take off his tank top. He lifted his hat off, then pulled the tank top up over his head and threw it onto the floor, revealing his bulky torso, heavy, hairy pecs swelling up and down as he breathed, bigger all over. He fit his cap back onto his head and relaxed his pose, showing off his new size. “See?” Chuck said with a shrug and a grin.

 

Clint shook his head. “This is…amazing! I mean, I don’t believe you, but it’s hard to deny… this!” Clint said and rubbed his hands up and down Chuck’s burly chest and shoulders, squeezing his solid traps and delts.

 

“Hehe, yup!” Chuck said and suddenly picked Clint up, grabbing him from under his arms and lifting him up. Clint yelped but didn’t resist. He felt light in Chuck’s arms, and he bounced the skinny twink up and down a little, hefting his weight as he carried him back to the bedroom. “I’m stronger too! Light weight!” Chuck boomed with a smile and tossed Clint onto the bed. “Like I said, I’m a growing boy,” he purred as he flexed his arms into a double bicep pose as Clint looked up at him. Chuck lowered his arms and adjusted the swelling cock in his jeans.

 

“I gotta see this for myself,” Clint said as he scooted closer to Chuck. “I mean, if you can actually do this, you gotta show me. I can stand to lose another 5 pounds, all my friends will be jealous, haha,” Clint said as he looked up at Chuck.

 

Chuck’s heart raced, his whole body buzzing in anticipation. His mind felt fuzzy, and all he could think about was taking the size from this skinny little twink and growing bigger. He shook his head, took a breath, and looked down at Clint, who was taking his shirt off. Clint was already really skinny… should he take even more? He licked his lips and moved to unbutton his jeans. “You sure, bud?” Chuck asked.

 

“I’m from Missouri, the Show-Me state, so you gotta show me!” Clint said playfully. “So how does it work?” he said.

 

“Like this,” Chuck said and pushed Clint back onto the bed, pressing his 245lbs down onto Clint’s lean body and pinning him underneath. Clint was skinny but warm, and Chuck could feel the energy radiating from Clint as he pinned him down. He imagined himself growing and growing, giving into the desire for more, and felt the familiar buzz of energy flow into him.

 

“Oh man, jeez I feel it, like I feel numb and tired all of a sudden, what the hell,” Clint groaned from underneath Chuck’s beefy frame.

 

Chuck grunted in pleasure and started bucking against Clint’s smooth skinny body, his legs and ass clenching and flexing as he rubbed his cock and gut against Clint. “Oh fuck, feels good!” Chuck breathed as he took more size. He felt himself getting heavier, saw his forearms swell thicker as he pinned Clint’s shoulders to the bed.

 

“Chuck, that’s enough, you’re taking more than five pounds,” Clint whimpered and tried to push the bigger bear off of him. Chuck didn’t budge a bit. He was too heavy, too strong, too big. He just grunted with each thrust, an animalistic, guttural sound. “Chuck! Stop!” Clint yelled.

 

Chuck shook his head. “Can’t, bud. Feels so good. Need more,” Chuck grunted between breaths as he pressed harder and harder into Clint, smearing precum all over the twink’s abs and chest. The feeling of energy pouring into his body was intoxicating. His shoulders spread out wider and rounder. His pecs swelled thicker, hanging down over Clint’s shrinking body. His belly pressed harder against Clint’s flat stomach. He adjusted his legs, which grew thicker and longer, and ground against Clint with renewed vigor. He sighed and grew bigger, and felt his cock expand.

 

“Chuck, no, I want to be skinny, not emaciated!” Clint whined as he tried to wiggle out from under Chuck. Clint reached up and tried to push Chuck away. Chuck grabbed Clint’s frail wrists and pinned them down above Clint’s head easily. Clint pushed against Chuck’s hands, trying to push off again, but Chuck pushed down harder.

 

“Gotta get bigger, bud. Just—unf—a little more,” Chuck said as he leaned more of his weight onto Clint and pressed against him, feeling the current of energy surge into his body. His musky pits were right in Clint’s face.

 

“No, Chuck, stop!” Clint whimpered from under Chuck’s growing bulk, and he thrashed, trying to escape Chuck’s grip. He looked up and was surrounded by Chuck’s huge body, Chuck’s eyes staring blankly, his face and neck thicker than before, his hat making him look like an oversized ex-college jock. Chuck pressed into him hard, feeling his stronger body crush Clint against his bulky torso. Clint tried escaping again, but this time Chuck hardly had to exert any effort to keep him down. He was too strong, and Clint was too weak.

 

“You should—mmph—should be careful what you wish for,” Chuck said, not cruel, just indifferent. He needed to get bigger, and Clint had size to give. It was as simple as that.

 

Finally, Chuck let go of Clint and sat up, then stood, rising up taller than before and looking down at Clint.

 

Clint looked pathetic, frail and weak, skin and bones. He rolled over and groaned, feeling like he was waking up from a bad hangover. “What the fuck did you do to me?” he moaned.

 

“I got a little carried away I guess,” Chuck said flatly, hefting his thicker cock and heavier balls. “You look small, bud,” he chuckled.

 

“What…how much did you take?” Clint said, and rolled over, seeing Chuck for the first time. He gasped. “Jesus, you’re big,” Clint said in awe.

 

“Yeah,” Chuck grunted. “Much bigger. Feels good! Probably put on 30lbs, I guess,” he said and flexed his traps and chest. They exploded with new size. He straightened out to his full height, feeling his wider shoulders and back spreading out, hefting his rounder, fuller gut. He felt an inch or so taller. He reached up and felt his beard, thicker and fuller, his jawline meatier. His whole body tingled with new power.

 

Clint groaned. “Fuck, I haven’t been this light since middle school,” Clint whined as he rolled off the bed. He stood up, and to his surprise only came up to Chuck’s chin.

 

“What the fuck!?” Clint yelped. Chuck grinned down at him. “I’m like 5’6” now, and you’ve gotta be almost 6’!”

 

“Yeah, I’m bigger all over!” Chuck boomed and stepped closer to Clint, comparing their heights. Chuck towered over Clint now. “You’re just a little guy now. God, I’m more than twice your weight now too, huh bud?” He looked over at the full-length mirror in Clint’s bedroom and couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference. Chuck hefted his meaty right pec in his hand and tensed his huge bicep, admiring his own size in the mirror. His cock throbbed angrily as he saw just how much he had grown.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Chuck said and suddenly shoved Clint in the chest, knocking back onto the bed.

 

“Oof, hey, what are you doing?” Clint said as Chuck descended on him, his huge body making the bed creak ominously.

 

“Still really horny, bud, gotta cum,” Chuck said and grabbed at Clint’s hips, flipping him over on this stomach. “And you still got a hot ass for me to fuck,” Chuck growled and moved into position.

 

“What!? No, Chuck, you’re too big and I feel like I just got run over by a car, what are yo—ooof!” Clint gasped as he felt Chuck’s massive cock poke against his tight hole.

 

“Jeez, so tight, gonna feel amazing in there, bud,” Chuck grunted and reached for the lube on the bedside table. He squeezed a bunch into his hand messily and stroked his massive tool, slicking it up. He grabbed Clint again as the smaller guy tried to move away and pulled him back towards his mammoth cock. It throbbed and leaked precum. Chuck smeared lube all over Clint’s hole. He needed to fuck badly, and Clint was right there for the taking. His spine tingled, the humming in his body begging him to take more size, but he held back and focused on pounding his friend instead.

 

“Uhhhnngg, fuck,” Chuck groaned as his 7” cock plowed into Clint. The twink yelped unintelligibly in pleasure and pain. Clint’s hole resisted at first, but soon gave way to Chuck’s mushroom head. The size disparity between them made it a very tight fit. Clint’s ass clamped onto Chuck’s thick cock like a vice, and Chuck felt waves of euphoria wash over his bigger body.

 

He started thrusting into Clint, slow at first but picking up speed as Clint’s ass loosened up. He was big now. Huge! Like the size he always dreamed of, the size of powerlifters and strongmen, and it had taken all of 24 hours and taking a little bit from just a few people. He saw himself in the mirror again and uttered a guttural groan that filled Clint’s bedroom. He was a fucking alpha now, huge and powerful. He looked down at the twink underneath him and grinned. He was in total control.

 

A thought echoed in his mind. This was only just the beginning. He needed more. More size, more energy, more growth. He would get more. A vision flashed in his mind of himself, twice the size, 10 times the size, bigger than any man alive. It was all that mattered.

 

Chuck’s musk filled up Clint’s bedroom, and a sheen of sweat gleamed on his body as he pounded away. Chuck grabbed at Clint’s hips and pulled him back hard as he thrust in, generating more pressure. Clint felt so light in his hands, his big hands which easily gripped most of the twink’s waist. Sweat dripped off his forehead and onto Clint’s back. He huffed and puffed and grunted like an animal as he reached climax.

 

“Oh fuck!” Chuck groaned and he exploded into Clint, seed spilling out of the twink’s ravaged hole and onto the mattress. Chuck pulled out as Clint groaned and then stood to his full 5’11”, 275lb stature. He took a deep breath and felt his chest expand. He had never felt better in his life.

 

He turned to the mirror again and walked closer, admiring the way his muscles twitched with every move. He examined the thicker, denser hair that covered his meaty pecs and jiggled the bulky meat of his thick thighs and calves. Cum dripped down to the floor of Clint’s bedroom. He adjusted his hat and pulled it down further on his brow. He looked awesome.

 

“What the fuck did you do to me, you freak?” Clint groaned from the bed. He was curled up pathetically.

 

Chuck looked back at his fuck buddy. He knew he should feel bad, should feel wrong about taking what wasn’t his, should feel some sense of guilt over what he had done. But he didn’t. Any semblance of that feeling was overridden by the simple thought that he needed to grow bigger, and he was horny. Clint had size to give, and had an ass to fuck. Getting what he wanted obviously seemed more important than Clint’s feelings; he had no reason to feel he had done anything wrong. He grunted as he reached this conclusion, and scratched his chest.

 

“Don’t feel bad, little guy. Look how big I am now!” Chuck boomed, his voice deeper than when he had arrived just a few minutes prior. “Awesome, right?”

 

Clint whimpered and started crying a little, despondent over losing almost 50lbs to Chuck in the last two days. “Just leave, you asshole, and never come back!”

 

Chuck hardly heard him. He was too busy flexing in the mirror, admiring the way his bicep peaks looked and jiggling his fatter, furrier belly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your size, bud,” Chuck grunted as he grabbed his jeans and sauntered off to the bathroom to collect the rest of his clothes.

 

Chuck grinned as he felt how his thighs rubbed against each other now. He stretched the tanktop over his huge frame, but it only came down to his belly button. He managed to get the flannel shirt on, but it was so tight he couldn’t button it up. His jeans were even more problematic; he hiked them up the best he could but couldn’t jip them up at all. Despite this, he smiled; it was all just a sign of a how much bigger he was. He slipped his coat over his shoulders and pressed his bigger feet into his boots until they squeezed in. They seemed comically small. It would have to do for the trip back to his apartment.

 

As he walked down the stairs and headed back to the train station, he felt his new bulk bouncing up and down and he grinned.

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Just now, cutlerfan said:

Please continue this! Would be cool to see if Clint can absorb size now too!

Oh there's a LOT left, probably 10ish more chapters still! Don't get too attached to Clint though... ;)

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5 hours ago, spacevlad said:

light

 

2 hours ago, spacevlad said:

Oh there's a LOT left, probably 10ish more chapters still! Don't get too attached to Clint though... ;)

I would have expected something more than 7 inches from a big bear man!

:-)

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