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So much plot on this part.

Wes remembers what happened to him and for sure he will be able to control his cum urges. That rock si the key to everything

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Sorry if this part is a "bit" late. I've been busy with work for a while and have just been writing this in my spare time. It might be a bit shaky at parts, but I hope it'll do for now while I adjust to some things in my personal life. There isn't much Froy in this part, but he'll have more screen time in the next part for sure.

 


 

PART 6

“Do I really have to wear this? Can’t I just put it back on when we leave? I feel so pretentious,” Wes said, tinkering with his necklace. 

“No,” I said. “If you take that thing off, I know you’re gonna throw it out the first chance you get.”

“What makes you think I won’t do it even if I don’t take it off?”

“Because you’re still wearing it, obviously. Now come on, they’re waiting for us inside.”

Wes followed me in crossing the empty street. “Froy better have gotten a good table, Dory. I’m tired of getting the cheap seats near the damn washroom. I may be your boss, but that doesn’t mean I can afford to get vomit on my shoes literally every time we go out drinking.”

The streets would normally be busy at night considering it was Friday. However, in the specific part of town we were in, the streets were always bare and cold, covered in parked cars and the occasional sex worker. Everyone was at the bars.

“I’m sure he did. Besides, even if he didn’t, Marcus would’ve just forced someone to give up their table anyway.”

“Right. Marcus,” Wes mumbled. “I’m not remembering wrong this time, right? He really is 6’4”?”

Standing in front of the entrance to the bar, we were greeted by the same old bouncers we befriended and headed down the stairs. “Yeah, yesterday, at least. He might’ve grown even bigger since then.”

As we approached the end of the corridor, we could already hear the loud cheering and laughing from the bar. “He looked so normal to me yesterday too… I don’t know how I’m gonna handle seeing Marcus being almost a foot taller than me now.”

“Same boat, Wes.”

I opened the double doors and immediately felt as though I’d entered a whole, new world. In the week we didn’t have a bar night, there were new groups around, leaving almost no room left to stand or sit, with every couch forcing people to sit on other people—and not in the fun way either. From where we, two short—and dare I say very attractive—men stood, we couldn’t find Froy or Marcus amidst the crowd.

“But you’ve seen Froy. Marcus should be around the same height,” I said, maneuvering my way through the drunkards. “Hopefully.”

“I mean, I appreciate that you cared about me, but you couldn’t have just left me the way I was? Or if you were going to shrink me down, I would’ve at least liked to have kept some inches.” We were needing to yell due to the volume.

“You’re a smart man, Wes. You were out of control. Besides, I did try to stop Froy. At least you’re back to normal, right?”

“Please, no one’s ‘normal’ is ever actually ‘normal.’ Yesterday, being over 7 feet tall was my normal. Now my normal is 5 and a half. Do you see what I mean?”

In the distance I saw Froy’s cute head hovering over the crowd, looking woefully lost and disoriented. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. “But when I said normal, I meant the normal that everyone knows you are. Don’t tell me your wife was actually okay with you jumping from 5’6” to 5’9” to 6’3” then back to 5’6” in two weeks and thought it was normal.”

“Well, I guess that’s true. If she saw me yesterday, she might’ve just died on the spot.”

When we managed to squeeze through the crowds, Wes’ and my outfits made us look like we were mauled in a back alley for half a hotdog. Thankfully, the only person I wanted to impress was Froy, and judging by the way he smiled at me, I’d say my wrinkled outfit did its job. 

I placed my hands on his thin waist and smiled up at him, adjusting my neck to reach his new height. “I’ve missed you already.”

He was only wearing undersized jeans and a tight white shirt that clung tightly around his newly-developed upper body. He’d gone past fitness model and reached slightly beefier amateur bodybuilder. The fabric was just thin enough to look transparent, not hiding a single curve or swerve on his meaty torso with his pecs jutting out like huge mounds. The shirt was short of hiding his Adonis’ belt, and his sleeves had to be rolled up, causing his biceps to mound into softballs whenever he did so much as move. 

He blushed, rubbing his bulging upper arm. “Me too, sir.”

“Are you two done flirting or what?” Wes asked. “And where’s Marcus?”

My heart was fluttering at just the sight of Froy that I’d completely forgotten about Wes. “Ah, sorry. Forgot you were here.”

“Really? One day without me bigger than you and you forget I exist.”

Froy let go and stepped back, raising a big hand pointing towards a curved booth near the bartender. “I got a booth over there, sir. Marcus just finished some errands down the street.” From where we stood, we could only see Marcus’ girlfriend, Lisa, and an unknown group of college kids occupying said booth. 

If Froy’s ditzy smile was anything to go by, he didn’t notice the booth was taken. “Unless Lisa suddenly spawned four college kids like the Virgin Mary working overtime, I don’t think you actually ‘got us a table,’ Froy,” Wes said.

Froy turned around in a panic and froze at the sight. “What? Oh… oh no.”

“What were you doing standing out here?” I asked him.

“I was just trying to get some water for us to drink, sir. I didn’t notice.”

“What were you doing trying to get us water at a bar, Froy? Have you never been out drinking before?” Wes said.

“Sorry, sir. This is my first time doing this.”

I shot him a confused look. “You’ve never drunk out before?”

He shook his head. “No, sir.”

Wes punched him in the arm, grinning as though he were plotting something in his head. Of course, the punch had no effect. It might as well have been a dog trying to kick a horse.

“Good thing you have us then, huh? As soon as we get those shitstains—no offense, Froy—off our table, we can start ordering.”

“Okay, sir,” Froy said. 

For a moment, nothing happened. The three of us stood silent, anticipating any of the other two to do something. We glanced around and stared at the booth as the college kids started bringing in shots and creeping up on poor Lisa. The longer we waited, the more confused we became.

“So what are you waiting for, Froy?” Wes asked.

“What? Me, sir?”

“Yes, you, big guy. You’re the biggest one here and the one who lost our booth.”

“I can’t, sir. I… I…”

“He’s shy, Wes. Why don’t you go do it? You’re the oldest one here,” I chimed.

“Come on, Dory. You and me both know neither of us can’t do anything to those college kids at our size. Look at them all, they’re all like, what, 6 feet? Their mothers probably haven’t even stopped nursing them yet.”

“You do know Froy is only 20, right?” I groaned. “Fine! I’ll go.”

“Great, we’re right behind you.”

As I approached the booth, with Froy and Wes in tow, some of the kids glanced over at us and chuckled among themselves. Those bitches. Just what the fuck were they laughing at?

When we got to the booth, Lisa looked relieved to see us, cowering and shrinking in her seat surrounded by college kids. She looked marvelous as always, wearing her favorite little red dress and her hair styled just for the occasion. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve mistaken her for Marcus’ sister for their strong jaws and wavy blonde hair, magnifying their already blessed looks.

“Hey, could you guys get out of our booth?” I said, grabbing Froy by the hand and propelling him forward with all the strength I could muster. “Our guy here was here with the woman all night waiting for us. Why the fuck would you take an occupied booth?”

One of them spoke up. “Well, your little faggot there up and left, d’in he? Well, we took this lovely lady here with us, so now we all own this booth, don’t we, boys?!”

They all hollered, annoying Lisa and me greatly. “Your buddy boy had no business sitting here alone with this pretty thing anyway. Don’t you see everyone else standing up? Why the fuck would some overgrown kid need a booth to himself?”

“I told you, he was saving us a table,” I said. “I’m trying to be civilized here. Give us back our booth—“

“Or what?”

“What?”

“You heard me. ‘Or what?’ You’re gonna fight us, little guy? You guys are so small, you look like fucking high schoolers in daddy’s clothes!” Wes and I grew red. “And that big guy doesn’t look like he’s ever even fucked a pussy in his life! My fucking mum would probably beat him up harder than his two dads ever could!”

With that, all of them began laughing, and laughing, and laughing. None of them even looked like they were paying attention to us anymore. We were furious. Wes was right. I didn’t like admitting it either.

Wes turned tail and headed back into the crowd, straight for the doors. He disappeared without so much as a word.

“Wes!” I called out to no avail.

“Aww, did I hurt little baby’s feelings? You better go after him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself on the way out!” one said. “Well? What’re you still standin’ there for? You gonna ask me for some money to buy some diapers or somethin’?”

I turned back to face the heckler, furious as all shit. “Look, what the fuck is your problem? Why won’t you just give us back our table and get your own somewhere else? We literally go to this same fucking bar every fucking Friday…”

I lost control, I must admit. 

“…and now of all Fridays, you and your overgrown pieces of shit decide to come in and ruin the night for some people just to waste whatever money your worthless fucking parents decided to hand over to you…”

I could see them turning red with anger.

“...and now, you assholes are just gonna keep sitting there? What, am I supposed to call child services to get your fucking hand-washed assholes out of here?”

It seemed the entire bar had simmered down. Even the college kids were speechless, staring blankly behind me. For a while, I thought I’d caused a scene.

Little did I know that I was yelling for nothing.

“What are you looking at?” I asked.

Standing still, I felt an immense heat emanating from behind me as if someone had switched on a radiator. From high above me, I could hear someone’s hefty nasal breathing. I was frightened. 

I turned around and was immediately met with a face-full of black—that is, a wall of over-stretched fabric. I stepped back, hitting the table, when I recognized that it had been a torso, a humongous wall of muscle with a  barrelous chest and biceps that protruded like boulders off a mountain, creating a looming shadow that only emphasized the sheer amount of muscle under the bar’s dim lighting. The sleeves were so stretched out that they couldn’t even begin to get over those upper arms and stuck at the armpits. It was unbelievable.

I looked up and saw Marcus’ beautiful face, eyebrow raised, looking down on us. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

“It’s about time,” Lisa said.

He had grown even bigger. I don’t know how, but he was growing a lot bigger, a lot faster. He had only been 6’1” at the start of the week, and now he looked as tall as Froy’s 6’5”... except he had double the muscle Froy had. 

“Just get them out of here, Marcus,” Wes said, emerging from the crowd. 

Marcus winked at me. He tapped me aside with a finger with such a force that I almost fell over. His entire body was muscular beyond belief, but his upper body even more so, making his titanic legs look like twigs carrying the mass of his torso. It was a lot to take in. He may have been Froy’s height, but even after Froy’s growth, Marcus still doubled his considerable muscle mass.

“No problemo, boss,” Marcus said. He leaned forward into the table and gripped the wood with his meaty fingers, causing some of it to chip. “So what is this I’ve been hearing about some little shits taking our table?”

The college kids were scared shitless at the massive man hovering over the table. All expression had left their face as they cowered.

“What, nothing to say? After all you’ve been saying to my little friends here?” Marcus said, gesturing towards me and Wes. “I hope you’ve at least been treating my girlfriend with respect.”

“Sorry, sorry, we’ll leave. Please, let us leave,” one of them said.

“Aw, come on, stay a bit! I wouldn’t mind having more guys my age around here. I wanna play a game with you guys. You’ve ever heard of ‘Mercy’? The game?”

They shook their heads.

“Here, I’ll teach you. It’ll be fun. I learned this in my sophomore year,” Marcus said, his smile betraying the annoyance his flexed arms displayed. “Here, raise up your hand,” he continued. “Like this.” He raised up a hand.

The loudest one reluctantly offered up his hand, twitching as he raised it up to Marcus’. Marcus then grabbed it and entwined their fingers together as if they were lovers. 

“You ever held a hand this big, dude? What about seeing a man this big?” Marcus taunted. 

“N… no.”

“Good. I bet you’ve never held a woman’s hand like this before either, huh, have you? Don’t answer,” he said, moaning subtly in excitement. 

“Now, how you play is you just gotta squeeze my hand, and I squeeze your hand, and all the loser has to do is say ‘mercy.’ Easy enough, right, little guy?”

From where I stood, the college kid was sweating beads. He tried breaking free of Marcus’ grasp, but Marcus was unmoving, grinning excitedly. I had never seen such a display of dominance from Marcus before. At that moment, I was turned on beyond imagination. I’d fantasized about Marcus, but this was a dream come true, seeing Marcus, supersized, barely able to clothe himself, now about to break some poor college kid’s hand.

“Go.” 

An audible crunch sounded from the handlock, followed by the kid’s pained yelling. 

“Mercy! Mercy!”

Marcus barely struggled. He looked at the college kid with confusion, peering in closer to stare him dead in the eyes, his big face no further than 3 inches away from the kid’s.

“What? Already? Come on, I know you can do better than that. Squeeze HARDER!”

The kid writhed in pain, falling off the booth and to his knees. Marcus bent over and began pressing him against the ground. The kid’s yelling continued to echo throughout the bar as Marcus dug into his chest using his own crushed hand. “Man, I thought you’d have a lot more in you after all you said to my friends here. Come on, get up.”

Marcus tossed him up by his broken hand and held him in the air for the rest of the kids to see. “If I ever see any of you back here ever again, I won’t be so nice, got it?”

The kid passed out in Marcus’ hand, dangling a few inches off the ground with just the strength from Marcus’ arm. 

“Now get the fuck out of here. And take this little shit with you,” he said, tossing the kid onto the couch. 

The other college kids, terrified and pale as ghosts, scooted out of the booth as quickly as they could without so much as a word or huff. Marcus stood triumphant as they ducked past him, dragging their friend with them. 

He raised up his arms in a double bicep pose and scrunched up his nose in a grin as he felt the immense power flowing through them, his upper arms alone already being bigger than some of the college kids’ whole legs. Their immense size, even bigger than yesterday’s 21 inchers, glistened with sweat running across his smooth skin and bulging veins. 

Lisa coughed and readjusted her dress as she scooted out of the booth to embrace Marcus. She dug her face deep in his chest, cupping his heaving pecs in her hands. “Fuck, you really know how to show off, doncha, big guy?” she asked.

Marcus grabbed her arm and leaned forward to place her small hand on one of his bulging biceps. The sheer difference in size was monumental. Her hands on Marcus’ arm looked like a Barbie doll’s. I don’t even think my own hands would’ve been able to wrap around his arms if I tried. Marcus only continued to grunt and flex for Lisa, moaning each time he flexed, audible from feet away. I could only imagine how loud he normally was in bed.

“Great, good job, Marcus,” Wes said. He turned to me and motioned for me to take a seat. “Go ahead, Dory.”

As I took my seat in the booth, I couldn’t help but ogle at Marcus. I’d never seen someone in such a public setting look so big before. He stood like a monolith amidst a crowd, demanding space and attention with his sculpted physique.

Froy stepped past and sat next to me, sitting so close that his shoulder would hit my face ever so often, even with all the space left around us. Not even Froy had the effect Marcus did. Was it the muscle? 

With Marcus’ final flexes, his shirt began to tear down his sides. He relished in his empowered growth and pushed as much power as he could, lowering his arms. Before he squeezed into the booth, he straight up tore off the sleeves of his tight black shirt, leaving his incredibly oversized arms on display.

“You mind?” he asked.

He had sat next to me, struggling to fit into the cramped booth and pinning me in a valley of pure, hard muscle between him and Froy—literally between a rock and a hard place… and I was sure I wasn’t the only one particularly hard. 

Marcus sucked in a deep breath, causing his chest to push out so far that the he was almost pushing the table and tearing open his shirt. “Fuck, that felt good!” He raised his massive arms and rested them on the booth, causing the musky scent of his armpits to fill my nose and the sweat of his biceps to soak into my neck. Not even Froy’s cologne could cover it up.

Wes sat at the opposite end of the booth, next to Lisa. “It’s a good thing I found you outside when I did. I fucking hate kids sometimes.”

“But you have kids, don’t you?” I asked playfully. “That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Wes laughed and raised the menu in the air. “Hey, I said ‘sometimes’!”

“Just like you’ve got the best co-workers, right?” Marcus asked.

“Okay, let’s not push it, Marcus. Don’t make me dock your pay again.”

“Hey! Not this time, man, a growing boy’s gotta eat!” He flexed, knocking my head forward with just the bounce of his biceps.

“Yeah, you really are growing. You’re already so much bigger than yesterday. How’d you even find anything to wear?” I asked.

“Fuck if I know! I’m just growing bigger and bigger everyday now.”

And the thought of it was exhilarating. 

I looked over at Froy as he was twiddling his thumbs, causing his shoulders and elbows to bump into me as he did so. If he was feeling small, I wouldn’t be surprised. Most guys 6’5” tall would kill to look like Froy, but Marcus still managed to dwarf him. 

Lisa snuggled up next to Marcus and pressed her cheek against his heaving pec, stroking his thick nipple and causing it to poke through his shirt. “God, I do love how big you’re getting,” she said, enviably. 

Marcus grabbed her small hand and groped his pec with it. “And you know I love how small you’re getting…”

“Alright, I think it’s about time we got some drinks before these two decide to fuck on the damn table.” Wes scooted out. “I’ll be back with a bottle. Any cravings?”

“Tonight’s a good night, Wes,” Marcus said. “Let’s do something fun.”

“So you have wished it, so it shall be.”

After Wes brought us a whole damn tray of the most suspicious mojitos I’d ever seen, the early hours of the night quickly passed. We talked about the office. People had been noticing the strange jumps in size in Wes, Marcus, and Froy. Wes huffed at me, stroking the necklace around his neck we’d made from a meteor shard. Marcus was grooving to the music, knocking me into Froy and nearly giving me a black eye. 

It was just a regular bar night, something we hadn’t had in a while. The last time we tried one of these, we nearly got killed by a meteor. Nothing seemed familiar to me anymore since then. Everything’s just been a little bit more alien—by a little bit, I mean an entire galaxy’s worth of alien.

After we had a couple more shots and played a few more games, we started moving past tipsy into drunk territory. I wasn’t sure if it was just me, but something was wrong. The booth almost seemed to be shrinking around me, as if it were getting tighter. I knew for a fact I wasn’t getting any bigger, so I looked around and Froy looked the same. When I looked over at Marcus, I realized what was wrong. A thought in the back of my mind had worried that Marcus was going to keep growing and pin me against Froy, and it was becoming a reality. 

Even while his arms were raised over my head, his lats started to flare out to the point that Lisa and I were getting pushed ever so slightly by his subtle expansion. He didn’t even seem to notice either. 

Not wanting to deal with the mess the sudden growth was going to end up in, I decided to down a couple more shots just to have an excuse not to help with the clean up. 

Then the rest became a blur for me… a big, black void of nothing. I know we slammed down multiple shots and had a bunch of vodka, but I definitely wasn’t expecting to black out, especially not so early in the night. It was strange. How did I black out with my tolerance? I had to wonder. The last time I got drunk was in college when I decided finishing two bottles of vodka in a minute was a good idea. For anyone wondering, it was not. 

Was I drugged? God, I hope not.

At some point, I started hearing things. It wasn’t much, but considering my situation, it was more than enough. The fragments were gonna have to do.

“Why don’t we play truth or dare..?”

“Aw, isn’t that cute? Froy thinks you’re only 27. What’s with you asians and your immortal youth?”

“Hey, don’t blame me! Just because I’m only 5’2” doesn’t mean I can’t be just as manly as you guys are.”

A lot of the faint memories were pretty innocent—for a while. I’m not sure when or how it started, but after some time, it started getting pretty damn raunchy. All I could hear was laughing and the clinking of glasses. Did Wes order more drinks? 

No one even seemed to comment on Marcus’ growth.

“Come on, kiss me, Dory...”

That’s all I heard. It’s all I could hear.

“Yeah, just like that. Use your tongue a bit more—ah, mmpf…”

What was happening? 

“W—You knocked over the damn table! God, how much did you drink?”

“Wait, my shirt doesn’t fit. Fuck, what…”

“Sir, please wake up…”

“Oh, fuck, I think I’m growing out—ah, fuck!”

…?

“Here, wear this. Please, at least until we get to my condo. Yes, I know it’s my jacket, just cover up your crotch please...”

“Is he awake yet? It’s a fucking miracle Marcus didn’t break his fucking jaw...”

I didn’t think we were at the bar anymore.

“Carry him, Froy. Marcus, you’ll have to wait for the next elevator. You’re too heavy for all of us to fit in one.”

“Yeah, just throw him on the bed. Thanks, Froy, you’ve been great tonight.”

I couldn’t open my eyes or move my limbs for the entire night. It was suspended darkness. 

Were my hands still attached to my arms? The big question was whether or not I was still going to wake up or not. I could’ve been dead. Who knows? Thankfully, I wasn’t the kind of guy who really had hangovers. The most I ever get was mild nausea. 

When I finally got around to waking up, I could feel the strange warmth of the sun peering from above me, something I hadn’t felt in almost months of waking. Not only that, but my jaw felt like it was just about to fall off my face.

The pillow I’d been sleeping on was misshapen, as if someone haphazardly covered a rock with a pillow sheet. 

Who did this? I just wanna talk.

My legs were nearly hanging off the bed because something was in the way. I tried pushing into whatever it was, but it was no good. I was clinging onto the pillow for dear life. It felt strangely good in my hand too… so round, so smooth.

I was about to open my eyes when I suddenly felt the pillow rise beneath me. I panicked and rolled off the bed.

When I stood up, I saw that I wasn’t sleeping on a pillow. It had been Marcus, specifically, his enormous bicep. The sight before me was unreal. He definitely wasn’t this big the night before. That was for sure. I looked at his torso and saw that he had torn through his shirt, wearing the remainder of his black shirt as nothing but a ratchet vest, exposing his mountainous pecs and abs like nobody’s business. 

I felt so small standing next to him. How was it possible that he was so big? His pecs alone looked like they could crush a boulder, and even lying down, they made a perfect valley in between that looked like it could hold a dictionary. He barely even fit on the bed! They looked like they were about to burst right out of his chest with their immense plumpness. 

His feet were hanging off the end, and just the way his legs took up space covered up the entire span. No wonder I had no space. I was sleeping next to this giant of a man. 

To think, just five days ago, he was wearing a large black shirt just fine. Now, he was bursting through XXLs. XXXLs? How big was that arm? It looked as thick as my damn leg! His upper arms alone looked even bigger than my fucking thighs. Just how many inches were they around? 20? 22? 

“28 inches,” he mumbled. “And a half. We checked last night.”

Oh, fuck me. “You could’ve told me you were awake.”

Marcus laughed. “Yeah, but you looked so happy cozying up to my body. What kind of monster would I be to wake you up?”

“The big ass monster you already are.”

He laughed again, sitting up, causing the bed to strain under his weight. As he threw himself forward, his pecs seemed to heave, jutting out almost a good half foot in front of him. Even seated, he looked like he was almost my height—in fact, I think he was my height. 

“You’ve got a point there, little guy.” He scratched his wide chest before firing me a mischievous smirk. “You wanna see just how small you are to me now?”

With a quick twist, he threw his humongous legs forward in front of me. The jacket covering it was thrown off, revealing what was underneath. In between his already incredible ham thighs was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life. My forearm suddenly looked like a damn toothpick.

Then he decided to stand. 

He propelled himself upwards, causing his bulging chest to hit me in the face, sending me fumbling backwards. As he rose, I couldn’t help but notice that he was literally twice as wide as I was if not more. His head was so close to the ceiling now. Just what the hell happened last night? How did he get so big?! I was only 5’7”, so I really had to bend my neck over just to see past his pecs and see his face. The top of my head didn’t even reach his shoulders anymore. My eyes were barely level with his chest.

“I’m 6’8” now, if you could believe that,” he said. “I’m over a foot taller than you now.”

“W-what the fuck did I miss last night? How did you get so big?!”

Marcus shrugged, causing his arms to flex, looking like basketballs shoved under his skin. “I’m just as clueless as you are, little guy. We just had some drinks, you got fucking wasted in an instant! Froy had to nurse you the entire night, poor guy. Then we just kept drinking and drinking, and I got drunk after a while. You even tried giving me a blowjob—“

“Excuse me, I what?”

He leaned over to look me in the eyes with a pleased smile. “Yeah, you tried sucking my dick~.” He stood back up. “Froy had us play truth or dare, and Lisa had the balls to dare you to suck me off. It’s a fucking miracle you didn’t vomit in my dickhole, man.”

“...What.” I can’t believe this. Why is the universe spiting me like this?  “I don’t remember sucking your dick.” What did I do to deserve this?!

Marcus scoffed, grabbing his enormous log with one huge hand and wiggling it in my face. “Well, you did. And don’t expect it to happen again unless I’m feeling like it. I like the attention you give me, but I draw the line at sex.”

Fuck.

“That’s fine,” I said. Looking around, I saw that we were in Wes’ condo, specifically his son’s bedroom. The poor bed looked just about ready to surrender itself to the gods, concave in the center. 

Marcus standing in front of me was still so surreal. He was literally just touching himself, but he was already taking up all the air in the room with his sheer size, looking like an oversized monolith of muscle. I’d never felt so small in my life. If I had to spend one more damn second in front of a gay man’s walking wet dream, I don’t think my poor heart could take it. Any more growing, and he might just reach Hulk levels of muscle. He was so damn big.

“So you wanna go get something to eat?” he asked, smiling. “Wes came in earlier and told me food was ready.”

I heard his stomach grumble through his abs, as if an earthquake had occurred. “Uh, yeah. Just please make sure to leave some for me.”

Marcus laughed, grabbing the doorknob. “Ha! We’ll see, little guy.”

He squeezed himself through the door, having to duck his head slightly and crunch himself in due to the enormous circumference of his chest. Following him, I felt like a baby duck. 

It didn’t seem there was anyone else in the condo apart from Wes and his son, Avery. Both of them were at the dinner table, casually eating bacon and pancakes with eggs like nobody’s business. Wes caused some dissonance with the frilly apron he was wearing over his clothes from last night, looking like a jaded trophy househusband. Thankfully, he was still wearing the necklace we made for him. Avery, on the other hand, looked like any other 15 year old boy going through his Hot Topic phase—minus the crocs.

“Hey, good mornin’, boss!” Marcus waved. “What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” He waved, sauntering in with the third leg openly swinging between his thighs, smacking into his knees.

“Good morning to you too.” Wes grumbled, guiding me to a seat. “Here, Dory, you can sit here next to Avery.” Then he rolled his eyes at Marcus. “And you,” he said, pulling over a marble display to the table. “You sit here. God, you really couldn’t be bothered to at least come out in a blanket to cover up?”

Marcus snickered. “What, your little dollhouse chairs can’t handle all this size?” He flexed, spanning over the entire width of the table.

“Hey, come on, I prefer the term “action figure” chairs. Maybe if you’d stop growing so damn big, you’d get your chair privileges back,” Wes said. “And clothing privileges, Jesus.”

“Ha! As if,” Marcus said, dumping the entire plate of eggs and bacon on his plate. “Hey, sorry, Dory, a growing boy’s gotta eat.”

I sighed. “I expected it.”

“So did I,” Wes said. He brought out a plate of bacon and eggs from the oven just for me, considerably smaller than Marcus’ serving, but it was enough. “This is for you. Not YOU, Marcus. I can’t have my best employee blacking out on me again.” 

“Your loss,” Marcus said with a stuffed mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna get checked out at a doctor’s, Marcus? I think the three of us need one,” Wes said. “And don’t worry about Avery, he has no idea what we’re talking about.”

“Fuck no!” Marcus flexed, hitting the fridge with his elbow, revealing a huge basketball-shaped upper arm.

“Alright, if you say so.” Wes collapsed into a chair and pulled himself up to the table, watching the three of us eat. “So you guys are all ready for the company retreat, right?” he said, sliding forward as he slouched.

Marcus nodded. “I am, but my clothes might not be.”

“Obviously.”

“Lisa’ll be coming too as my +1.”

“No problemo, señor. What about you, Dor?

“How could I forget?” I said. “Froy and I’ve already packed our things.”

“Just so you guys know, I’ll be taking Avery here with me. He’s just being grumpy because he didn’t get to go to his auntie’s with the rest of the family.”

Avery’s face flushed red, prompting him to hide in his loose shirt. “Dad!” he grumbled. 

Wes bit his lower lip and smirked at Avery. “Please, you should be thanking me. I’m saving you from a weekend with your grandpa’s raisin cookies.”

Marcus slurped up the last bits of bacon off his plate. “Hey, come on, don’t bully the little guy. He’s probably excited as shit to go to the beach.”

“...But I like raisin cookies,” Avery mumbled. 

Wes leaned in closer, taunting him by sticking up his hand to his ear. “What? What was that? Care to say that again? Louder for the giant at the back?”

“Nothing!” he said, standing up. “Just leave me alone, dad, please!” As he stormed off, he accidentally knocked over his glass of OJ onto my clothes. I saw he tried coming back to help me pat myself off, but apparently he decided against it.

As he disappeared down the hall, I’d never noticed just how skinny he was before. It was weird considering how muscular his dad is. Maybe he’d grow into it, who knows. He was only 15. That was more than enough time to grow, I supposed. He was already 5’5”, so he was so close to beating his own dad’s height, and with some time in the gym, he might just end up as beefy as Wes. 

Wes snickered. “That boy can be a real pain sometimes.” He walked over with some dry rags and started patting me down. “Here, let me help.”

“Thanks, Wes. I guess he got it from you.”

Without looking up, “And you’re about to get something from me if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” he said, crunching his fist.

“...Duly noted.”

Marcus then let out a burp, smacking me straight in the face with the stench as he patted his bulging abs. “Hey, you mind if I raided your fridge for more food? I’m fucking starving over here, man.”

He stood up, nearly bumping his head on the partition overhead and colliding his pecs with the table, causing it to tremble as he rose to his feet.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just try not to eat the one with the laxatives.”

Marcus paused opening the fridge. “The one with the what-now?”

“Just kidding. Go ahead, no one’s gonna eat the shit in there for a week anyway,” Wes said. “At least I won’t.”

“Goody-goody.” Marcus groaned as he bent over, hitting the table with his gargantuan behind, and nearly knocking more orange juice on me. I don’t think he even noticed. If he did, he definitely didn’t care. His backside looked otherworldly from behind, as if it had been a boulder covered in muscle and skin. If he weren’t right in front of me, I would’ve thought such a form was impossible. Lately, with the meteor, nothing really seemed impossible anymore.

When Wes finished cleaning me up, he brought me over to a bench with some clothes of his to wear. I changed into them, even if they were a bit tight. Then Marcus came over, mouth absolutely smothered in sauce and grease, with distended abs to match. 

“No, don’t sit on the bench, Marcus!” Wes yelled, trying to push him away.

But it was too late, Marcus had groaned and dropped himself onto the bench, causing it to collapse beneath us, sending us both to the ground. 

I looked up at Marcus who looked infinitely pleased with himself despite the nervous giggling. 

“Whoops, wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

Wes yelled, clawing at his own face. “Ugh, god, damn it, Marcus!”

“Guess I just don’t know my own weight!” he said, shrugging.

It was then that I thought. Maybe—just maybe—he was getting too big.

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Froy wuld be perfect to even out things tho Marcus' size is hot. It will eb troublesome

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