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Hi all. I am a loooooooong time lurker (maybe around 15 years). I have written a lot of short stories over the years. One of my original inspirations was O's artwork on cyoc and BBMSN's stories. More recently my inspirations have been the work of gitbigger (rest in peace) and scriptboy. Anywho, I decided to finally join and post one of my stories that I have been working on. I really have no idea whether it is any good, but I hope someone at least gets some enjoyment reading it.

The events in this story are very loosely based on truth. I do have a friend that the character "Mikey" is modeled after. I added the "brainwash" tag since the characters cannot perceive reality.

 

Game Nights Part 1 - Introduction

I used to go over to my friend Mikey's house every Friday for game night. I was a pretty big guy - 6'5" and 270 pounds. I carried my weight well, as most people would tell you that I weighed 190. It always annoyed me that people thought that I was smaller than my actual weight. Unfortunately for Mikey, he did not carry his weight well. He was only 5'2, but weighed 200 pounds. I envied his body shape since we first met. My body shape had always been an enigma. I was tall and had somewhat lanky arms and chest like an ectomorph, but my shoulders were not much bigger than my wide hips similar to an endomorph. You might say that I was cross between a triangle and rectangle. If I gained any more weight, I would look sloppy with fat just hanging from my stomach, legs and hips while my upper body would maintain a slender look. Mikey was more of an apple. He had wide shoulders and narrow hips. I always surmised that he was a mesomorph that just had gained too much weight. Of course I had not measured it, but have often wondered if his shoulders were actually wider than mine (even with being over a foot shorter). His gut was more like a ball. Instead of hanging like mine would at that size, it defied gravity and just stuck out in a big rounded shape. Any shirt he wore always had trouble since his wide shoulders begged the shirt to be pulled upward with any motion and the gut was somewhat happen to get the stretched fabric off of it.

I got on to a health kick after around three years of game nights. Mikey said that he wanted to work at his waistline too. They always say that apple shapes are more prone to heart disease so shrinking the waist-to-hip ratio would definitely be in his favor. Seeing him every week, it was really difficult to tell whether he was successful or not. It wasn't until I looked at an older social media picture that I was able to see a difference. His waist did not look any smaller, but he definitely looked healthier, if that makes sense. 

Another couple of weeks went by and we found ourselves chatting before starting to play some games. We were in his kitchen prepping some snacks. Apparently his eating habits hadn't changed that much, but he definitely looked better than even the picture from two weeks prior. When he turned and bent into the refrigerator, I finally saw something that had definitely changed. Mikey had always sported a plumbers crack whenever he bent over because those narrow hips provided nothing for his pants to hold on to. He still had the crack, but the shape was different - highlighted by the presence of glutes. Not that I check out my friends' butts, it is just something you notice when someone bends over in front of you. When he stood up and turned around, I finally figured out why he looked healthier. He had a ruddiness about him. His chest and arms were a little bit more muscular than before and he filled out his shirt in more ways than just his gut. The normal movements that might have caused the shirt to ride up were stabilized a little by his chest sticking out.

I did not really notice anything more for the next few weeks. Though, I confirmed the ruddiness by looking at previous pictures again. He definitely had slightly bulkier muscles than pictures from the last month and especially when compared to pictures more than three months old. One of the game nights he was happy to see me after a tough week and gave me a hug as a hello. It turned out that it was Mikey's birthday and I was happy to oblige. His slightly spikey hair brushed my chin. He had hugged me as a greeting or to say goodbye after events before and I always leaned over to pat him on the back. I tried to picture why I would lean over so much before when I was only a head taller. I just shrugged it off.

At another game night, Mikey decided to wear one of his older shirts from his college days  - it looked like it might have fit better fifty pounds ago. It was stretched pretty tight around his shoulders and chest. His arms caused the sleeves to roll up to the bottom of his delts which highlighted their round globular shape. He kept pulling on the shirt, but it would not go below his belly button. Without even bending over you could see his ass crack. But it had two mounds shoved into his pants. You could see that the waist on his pants was tight as it squeezed his glutes. He wanted to pull them up, but his belly wouldn't have it. At the next game night, he wore an even smaller shirt. In this one, his belly button was fully exposed. Depending on which way he turned and shadows hit him, you could see somewhat of a turtleshell pattern forming on the exposed skin. 

A couple of months later he must have finally gotten off his college clothes kick. His shirt was long enough, but still filled out at the chest, shoulders arms and gut. The following month, i could have sworn that he was wearing the same shirt. This time, it was just barely covering to the bottom of his belly. In addition, the seams at his shoulders looked a little frayed and even separated a little from moving around during the night. I stayed and chatted for a while to see how he was doing. After a couple of hours, it was late and I had to leave. Mikey decided to hug me goodbye. As his arms swung around behind me, both sleeves ripped. Mikey was surprised by the feeling and turned quickly. His noise bumped my chin, and both of us laughed about it.

Something was bugging me about the sleeves ripping. Mikeys always had wide shoulders for as long as I had known him. He was the type of guy that always had his arm up on the seat next to him in a car or at a table - probably to make sure his shoulders were not intruding on someone else's space. So knowing his own body, why would he buy a shirt that is tight in the shoulders? I looked at all of the pictures over the past few months and found that he had relatively the same proportions in every one. It was quite odd.

Two weeks later, Mikey turned at one point in the game. From my vantage, his chest was almost protruding out as much as his gut. When he turned back, the shirt pinched inbetween the pecs and stomach. I could then see that his pecs had become big globes. In addition another friend who was a former football player came by to play. He was sitting next to Mikey and across from me. Mikey's arms actually looked bigger. I am not sure how much bigger, but the stocky friend had to have measured at least 18 inches and upwards around 20 inches. It was tough for me to judge shorter people's arms since mine were over 18 inches and his looked bigger because of his shorter limbs. It was then that it dawned on my that Mikey was wearing a much bigger shirt than before and yet the arms were still highlighted by the tight sleeves. The tag was sticking up slightly and i was able to nonchalantly see that it was an XXXL. It is so funny how different manufacturers cut things. I wore XL at 270 and his 3x looked like it was a tad too small in some areas. As we were saying goodbye, I found myself staring straight at his hairline on his forehead. I thought i used to see the top of his head. But that couldn't be right.

We had to cancel game night for a few weeks because of severe weather in the area. Mikey and i still chatted online. He said that he was still trying to trim his waistline but nothing was working. It was actually up ten inches from when he started. I sent him a couple of pictures showing comparisons and told him that he still looked the same but with bigger muscles. Whatever he was doing was working. That was encouraging enough to keep him going.

===========

A couple weeks turned into a month. A month turned into over a half a year before I saw him again. You know how it is when you get out of the habit of doing something - the longer you put off doing it, the harder it becomes to do it again. He wanted to celebrate his birthday with me again. When he opened the door, we were looking at each straight in the eyes. He was wearing the same shirt from the last time (~7 months prior), although it totally shrunk in the wash. I smiled to myself thinking about how he needed to learn to hang his cotton shirts instead of drying with heat. That was something I learned a long time ago, #tallpeopleproblems. It was a wonder that Mikey hadn't figured it out considering we were the same height. Or actually, our eyes were level, but the top of his head was maybe 2 inches above mine. Mikey's neck was maybe half as long as mine and our shoulder were probably close to the same height.

I immediately noticed that the sleeves on the shirt were gone and little tears were at the shoulders coming inward. The shirt was no longer stretched at the waist, although his gut still appeared to be the same proportion. The bottom of the shirt only reached to his belly button so i could definitely see the gut still there and it just barely protruded on the shirt hanging over it. Instead, the top of the shirt was painted on to his chest and hanging somewhat loosely down. It definitely was odd that the shirt shrunk in the dryer but still maintained the same waist. He gave a big smile and hello, with an emphatic hug just like at his last birthday. When he did this, the shoulder and trap movement forced the shirt to ride all the way up and wedge under his pecs, revealing the solid turtle shell underneath. You could slap that belly and there wouldn't even be a ripple. All that was left covered by the shirt was his chest. It looked like two volleyballs stuffed into a pillow case.

Mikey didn't seem to notice that his shirt had ridden up as he turned to walk over to the couch. I had never seen his full back before - just his lower back from shirts riding up as he would bend over. That instance I got to see almost all of it. When the shirt had ridden up, it also wedged into his armpits. It wanted to take the path of least resistance and completely exposing his lats was much less strain than being pulled and stretched over. I was a little shocked at how much his back flared out from his waist. Isn't it funny how some fat people look like they have an incredible v-taper from the back? You would never expect that he had a big gut until he turned to the side or faced you. I looked down and chuckled at seeing his underwear exposed. His pants were always drooping somewhat, showing the plumber's crack and portions of his underwear. Even when he pulled up his pants in the past, they almost immediately fell back down again. In this case, he must not have even bothered pulling them up since the top of the pants were beneath his bubble butt. Didn't I say earlier that his narrow hips didn't give pants anything to hold on to? Why would I have thought that when his oversized glutes could have held them up. Briefly my brain also wondered whether he could even have pulled up the jeans since they looked completely stretched over his quads as it was. Looking down further, the jeans left a good 5 or 6 inches exposed from his ankle up his leg. The bottoms of the jean legs were stretched to the maximum below his calves. So that must be why he didn't try to pull them up - there was no way any more of his legs would even fit. I always preferred loose fitting khakis to jeans so I never run into that issue. You would think that 3/4 length jeans would have had wider legs.

My gaze was drawn back up as I entered the house and shut the door behind me. His thighs forced him to roll each leg over each other as he walked. This cause his glute to completely flex and then bounce on top of his jeans with each step. The boxer briefs containing them did not cover all the way to the top. You could see the top 3 or 4 inches where the glutes inserted into his pelvis. The top of the boxer briefs stretched over the glutes didn't even make an indentation. Traveling further up I noticed something odd about his head. First off, I could not even see his neck since his traps rode all the way up to the base of his skull. Even the bottom of his hair line was distorted into 3D as it curved out on the the traps. But still there was something odd. I silently did that thing where you mimic taking a picture with your hands. I cropped out most of his body and just showed his head in my field of vision. It looked like it was almost double the size of my head. He always had a wider head that me from being overweight, but this was bigger in all directions. I lowered my hands and stopped walking. He turned around at the couch and noticed me staring quizzically. He asked me what was up. 

I took a moment to consider the previous pictures I had looked at. His head was exactly the same proportion to his body as always. In fact, his entire body looked exactly the same in proportion except for the increased muscle mass. I cannot even remember exactly what I replied with, but it was something about how he looked good with more mass even though he was having trouble shrinking his stomach. Just from the increased muscles, it already gave the illusion of a smaller gut. He got a big grin on his face and patted his stomach. My earlier assumption turned out to be correct, it did not even jiggle slightly. Mikey did, however, feel that his shirt had ridden up. He exhaled fully and sucked in his gut to pull down his shirt - the way normal people do when they are trying on pants that are obviously too small. When he did this, his entire stomach tightened into corrugated muscles. His obliques popped out through the skin, perfectly framing a massive brick wall of abs. They were the most spectacularly shredded abs I had ever seen, which is quite a sight on someone trying to trim their waistline. His abdomen tightened so much that it was easily smaller than my 39" waist. He held that pose for a good 30 seconds struggling to pull the shirt out from under his armpits and pecs. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tightly flexed muscles. By the time he finally got the shirt pulled out, his waist looked like it was 2 or 3 inches smaller than a few seconds ago just from being tensed so much. He let the air rush back into his lungs and released the tension in his abdomen. Without actually taking measurements, his full sized gut also looked slightly smaller than when I first walked in. Actually, his gut wasn't even pressed up against the shirt anymore and the fabric just completely hung off of his pecs.

Mikey crashed down into the sofa seat, a tad winded from the struggle and holding his breath. Finally, I got a visual on his gut again in the seated position otherwise I would have exclaimed that it magically vanished. I sat down beside him on the couch. Or a better description would be that he took up one and a half sofa cushions and I sat on the third one. He put his arm up on the back of the sofa like he always did and his hand stretched out reached almost past me on the other side. I also realized that he was basically sitting on the couch in his boxer briefs since his pants were not pulled up, but it was his couch so he could do whatever he wanted. Spurred on by what I just witnessed, I talked to him about doing stomach vacuums to help exercise the core. I also mentioned that they usually help shrink the waist by a few inches. He accepted the proposition and promised that he would try it out. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful - we watched a movie, played some video games and drank a few beers (me only a couple early on since I would be driving later on). Every breath and movement he took during the night, made the shirt creep up again. It made it up under his pecs and armpits about halfway through the evening. By then, he had had too many beers to notice or care.

 

 

Game Nights Part 2 - Wardrobe Limitations

One thing I haven't mentioned so far is that Mikey and I both worked from our homes. I had a small home business run out of my tiny apartment and he did hourly work dealing with global supply shipping and logistics. He moved into a new house before I started wanting to get healthy. It was actually on his moving day that I got inspired and then mentioned it a couple of weeks later. I heard that his housing community had a gym in it, and just assumed that Mikey was working out there. Working from home, he rarely went out (especially after trying to get healthy). Anything he wanted, he would just order it online and get it delivered. That was probably one of the reasons that his clothing never seemed to fit exactly right, because he would not have tried it on before buying. After the birthday, it was another 9 months before I saw Mikey again - just around his two year anniversary in the house. After much coaxing from me, he finally started up game nights again. 

I got pretty lucky with traffic heading over to Mikey's house. I also left earlier than normal in my eagerness. I wound up arriving 45 minutes before our scheduled time. I knew that he would just be getting off from work. I texted en route and let him know that I would just chill out while he did whatever he had to do. I was shocked when he opened the door in just his boxer briefs. He had a towel in his other hand and was rubbing his hair to dry it more. He had just gotten out of the shower and had not known about the text. 

My eye level was a little above mid-pec. The left pec was stretched upward connected to his arm drying off his hair. The right pec was just a huge and round - soccer ball? no... basketball? no... Maybe a smaller sized yoga ball would be about right for a description. I took a step back from the door to get a better overall view. His proportions were a little bit off. Obviously the enlarged pecs were a change, but I mean the head-to-shoulder-to-waist width-to-hip width proportions. His hips still had that narrower than they should be look to them. His shoulders were definitely wider, but that could just be from the bowling balls stuffed into them. His waist width looked comparably about the same as before. I guess the proportions were about the same and the increased overall mass just gave an illusion. He looked at me with a little bit of concern and asked what was wrong. I shook my head and told him that he was looking really good and I just wanted to take it all in. He just smiled and laughed, stepping to the side to let me in. Even with him to the side, I had to maneuver a bit to get through the door before he closed it behind me. As I walked into the room, I finally realized what was so off with his proportions. He had the proportions of a short guy - where his torso was longer than his legs. It was quite odd since he had at least 15 inches in height on me. His legs looked like they were a tad shorter than mine, but his torso was where he made up a foot plus of the height difference. Then his big ol' head - that I noticed 9 month prior - gave him another 6 or so inches in height.

Before I turned back to him, I mentioned that I totally saw a difference and he was definitely making a dent in his waist. It was not that he was lean or shredded or anything, just that his gut was not protruding like it used to. Mikey got really excited and told me to take a seat. He tossed the towel to the side and put both arms above his head and exhaled. His entire stomach sucked in and even went upwards into his ribcage. He lowered his hands slowly and felt around his stomach. He got a look of concentration on his face and expanded his ribcage a bit to suck in the stomach even more. After feeling around again, he smiled - satisfied with what he imagined it looked like from practicing in front of the mirror. He turned to the side to give a better view. With the ribcage contorted, his pecs jutted out at least 2 and a half feet from his stomach. From this angle, the one visible pec totally looked like a ball. From his collar bone, the pec went up past his chin and curved all the way around below the top of his stomach before curving back up to his ribcage. Just like my previous commentary about how his stomach did not hang, neither did his pecs. I could not even fathom how those things defied gravity like that. Superior genetics, I suppose.

Mikey was still on the stocky side even with his core/stomach exercises. It wasn't like his stomach depth was close to zero like you see on completely ripped and lean bodybuilders. With his stomach sucked in, he still had a bit under two feet from back to front. Part of that was his incredibly thick lower back muscles. I guessed with pecs like those, the lower back would grow thick out of necessity. His lats and traps flared out of his backside. If I had to guess, from his back to the pecs, it had to be four feet - maybe even closer to five feet in depth. That meant his upper torso was almost 3 times as thick as his lower torso at that moment.

His lower half (i.e. less than half) was equally as impressive. Now I had said that Mikey opened the door in his boxer briefs, but that is not an adequate description. His legs basically gave zero opportunity to have boxer briefs pulled down. I could imagine that even if he had tried, they would immediately roll up on his legs. So at that point, his boxer briefs looked smaller that trunks and maybe a tad bigger than regular briefs. He had a good five inches of his glute exposed above the waistband, similar to last time, and a third of his ass was hanging out the bottom of his boxer brief "legs". At least he did make an attempt to cover his butt before answering the door. Those things could easily have turned into a thong if not positioned right. With his bubble butt sticking out over a foot from his lower back, he could tear any undergarment if he wasn't careful putting it on. As indicated, his quads looked like they were 3 feet in diameter and would not have allowed for the boxer brief legs to be pulled down. 

Mikey turned back facing me. My mind raced was with all of these proportions I attempted to calculate. But all of that shut down when I came to the realization that Mikey's legs were much bigger than his waist. From the front they looked about the same width, but from the side, back to front, his stomach was under 2 feet while his legs looked over 3. Shaken a little, I pushed all of those thoughts out of my head. I hadn't been counting, but it had been at least a few minutes since Mikey had started flexing. I muttered something about him having to breath. He put up a finger in a "one moment" sort of gesture. He then lifted both hands up above his head again and crunched down. He still had the vacuum sucking in any exposed skin, but abdominal muscle filled in almost all of the space in an explosion of power. While nine months ago, exhaling made his stomach look corrugated, this was light years beyond that. I couldn't even see the linea alba as it was pulled in so far from the vacuum that no light was reaching it. In between each ab separation, there were a few inch deep grooves. I would say that you could have grabbed on to then with your hand, but each ab itself was like a 24 ounce steak. Possibly you could stretch your hand to each side, but there is no way you could grip it. Normally when someone flexes during a vacuum, you just see the abs pop, but Mikey's obliques also showed up for the party. With skin stretched over top of them, it looked like someone was scoring a piece of meat with a knife for even cooking. Even the space between the abs and obliques was pulled all the way in like the lines alba. I surmised that I could fit most of my hand into those caverns and probably get up to my wrist in the lines alba. 

After twisting from side to side and maneuvering into different positions for a minute, Mikey finally let go and started breathing again. He wasn't even gasping for air or breathing heavy, it was like that took no effort at all. I had to know how all of that was possible. Mikey was happy to talk about it and plopped down on the sofa next to me. I was almost launched out of my seat when he did that. Luckily, he put up his arm in his normal style (giving me enough space to stay there). His narrow hips took up less than two couch cushions, but his shoulder width would easily take up the entire thing by himself. His hand hung off the far side of the couch and his bicep propped up my head some like a pillow. I was about to say something, but Mikey continued with his tale. He told me about how he started doing stomach vacuums after his birthday. At first he could only do it for about 10 seconds and the strain would wind him. After 9 months, he could hold his breath for 12 minutes doing the vacuum. With taking a deep breath, he had managed to reach about 30 minutes. He said that usually while working he would just hold his breath without actually timing anything. Mikey would alternate between taking a breath and doing a vacuum for most of the day. He estimated that a moment ago he had only flexed for about five minutes.

I also wondered about how he had such shredded abs without any veins. Mikey furrowed his brow and mentioned that he still held about 35% body fat. If my jaw could unhinge, it would have hit the floor and burrowed a few feet into the ground. That absolutely mind blowing abdominal display with a hand deep groove in-between was done at 30+% body fat. That was another avenue that I had to push out of my mind before getting overwhelmed.

As we continued talking, I noticed that Mikey had gone back into a vacuum. He was using minimal breaths to speak and kept everything sucked in. He started talking about how not breathing actually increases testosterone. That is why some of those celebrities died while suffocating themselves, because the increased testosterone leads to heightened arousal. Instead of torturing himself, Mikey opted for just learning how to hold his breath. That insight certainly accounted for his increased muscle mass in his pecs and shoulders.  

It was nearly an hour before I realized we should start playing games. Mikey was still in the same vacuum pose. As we set up the game, Mikey explained that taking shallow breaths, he could keep the pose almost indefinitely. We joked about it and I bet him that he couldn't keep it up for the rest of the night. He took that bet and immediately vacuumed again. He kept flexing and unflexing his abs the entire game just to distract me. Close up, I noted something interesting about his obliques. They stuck out from his pelvis almost like handlebars. To the untrained eye, they would be called love-handles. However Mikey's were solid and had the shredded look that obliques can get at low body fat percentages (????? I know, right?). From those handle bars, they actually curved inward before flaring out to the ribcage. It certainly gave the appearance that his waist was smaller now than before. I asked him about it and he took on a forlorn look on his face. He sadly noted that his waist was bigger now than before. I could not offer a good explanation. He clearly had shrunk his waist just from the vacuums. It did not make any sense why he would have gained a few inches. 

We kept playing and chatting well into the night. Sometime after midnight, Mikey lost his concentration and couldn't hold his vacuum any longer and conceded defeat. With that, I decided to take my win and head home. I did applaud his effort in holding a vacuum for somewhere around 5 hours straight. I didn't mention it, but his waist was absolutely smaller than when I arrived earlier. At the door, Mikey asked me what I wanted since I won the bet. I looked him up and down and told him next time to put some cloths on. Mikey looked down at his bare chest (obviously not able to see past it) and blushed profusely. He apologized 20 times before finally closing the door behind me. 

Over the next couple of weeks of game nights, Mikey taught me more about what he was learning on stomach vacuums and waistline reduction. Things were going great until we had to cancel few times in a row and fell out of habit again.

===========

Less than three months later we were both eager to get back into it because Mikey's birthday had come around again. The door opened to me staring at the lower side of Mikey's pecs. I looked up and only saw pecs going on forever. Mikey kneeled on the floor, but that didn't help - darn his shorter than they should be legs. He got all the way down to a pushup position and I could finally see his face in-between the massive mounds of his pecs and traps. Not like his face was small. It looked 4 times as wide as my own face and twice as tall. Even if I was over 9 feet tall like Mikey, looking towards his face would still be half obscured by his pecs. I chuckled a little because in his pushup position, the top of his head was about as tall as me. He laughed too (although probably not knowing the reason for mine) and gave me a big welcome. Once inside, we went to hug since it was a birthday tradition. I got bumped away by his legs. He tried to lean over and I was almost shoved to the floor by his pecs. Wait, hadn't we hugged before? We both had confused looks on our faces, although we couldn't see each other. I decided to just bend over his legs and grab on to his obliques since there was no possible way I could get around his waist. Hey, I was right, his obliques were like handle bars - except really meaty as if I was holding on to big rolls of salami at a deli counter. He chuckled and reached under his pecs to pat me on the back.  I let go and slid my way out from under his pecs. Obviously he was wearing clothing this time or I wouldn't have tried that... probably. 

Calling it clothing was somewhat of a joke though. He had on some leggings that basically looked like a second skin. They could not have been any tighter. In fact, they were so stretched that you could see Mikey's skin in a couple of places in the right light. His "shirt" was a string tank with such long strings that it barely covered the bottom half of his stomach (although a lot of the top half was already covered by pecs). We pretty much dove straight into movies and video games after that. 

I won't bore you with all of the details from that night. Mikey took the couch by himself. He was just barely able to fit onto it. I did not understand why he would have bought that brand in the first place if it was that small for him. It was better having me on the floor or grabbing one of the dining room chairs. If Mikey had sat on the floor, he would have completely blocked my vision. I was a little taller than his torso and head if I had been standing up, but his ass and legs propped him up by another 3 feet. There would have been no use trying to go to either side because the caps on his shoulders were almost 3 times as wide as the sofa from tip to tip. One nice thing to note was that after years of trying, he had finally gotten his waist under his hip measurement while vacuumed. He told me how confusing it was because his waist had actually gained quite a few inches over the past few months but somehow his hips gained more - most likely from those salami obliques. 

Games nights surprisingly lasted for most of that year. Every once in a while we would cancel, but we kept up the habit. It went back to me not noticing changes in his muscular or gut development since we were seeing each other every week.

 

 

Game Nights Part 3 - The Release

*NOTE: This part does include some sexual themes. Fair warning in case you do not like that sort of stuff.

By the end of the year, we got busy with the holidays and such. We had vowed to celebrate his birthday again in a few months. By then, we were both eager to get back into it. The door opened to me staring at Mikey's crotch. It was covered by one of those sheath underwear styles. The sheath and rest of the briefs were forced upward by his quads. The pouch was resting in a little bed created by the protruding muscles. The sheath was draped over top, cascading over the muscles and down a little. I looked up and his turtle ridged boulder of a gut filled the doorway. I leaned in a little and just saw pecs blocking anything above. I said a hello with an obvious question mark at the end. Mikey tried getting down into a pushup position again and I could see his hair obscured by the massive pecs jutting out from the pose. Even in this position, the top of his pecs were still a couple of feet above my head. Finally, Mikey just completely plopped down on to the floor and looked up (looking straight at me from my view). My head was finally above his, but his traps and lats still stuck out far enough to be taller than me.  His head was gigantic from this frame of reference. His nose alone was getting close to the size of my entire head. I probably could have climbed into his mouth if he stretched his jaw a little. I wouldn't have been able to get all the way inside, at least up to my waist, though. The thought of this brought a little smirk to my face.

Once inside, we went for a traditional birthday hug. I tried to grab at his obliques again, but they were far out of reach. I told him I had an idea and dove on top of his legs. I grabbed on to the only thing I could find, the sheath underwear. It was difficult to hold since it was soft and bigger than my hands could grip around, but the fabric gave me something to hang on to. I used it to mountain climb up his legs. I then reached his gut which blocked my way from getting completely on top of the mountains. And I could not keep climbing since I was faced with a ceiling made out of pecs right above my head. He understood what I was trying to do and said he could help with it. He then performed his vacuum pose that he had been practicing for a couple of years now. Mikey's ribcage jutted out and lifted up his pecs, finally giving my head some room. His gut completely sucked in and up into his ribcage. I was able to climb into the cave and comfortably kneel on top of his legs inside of the space. If he managed a little bit more, I might even be able to stand. I tossed my climbing rope aside and went to try to hug him. That turned out as easy as hugging a brick wall. Feeling what I was doing, he exclaimed a quick apology and flexed his abdomen. I felt like I got hit by a car as I was catapulted away. Luckily my climbing rope was close by and I was able to quickly grab on before flying out and probably smashing into a wall. Mikey obviously felt the movement but could not figure out what was going on. Determined to do that hug, I scaled up again, entered the cave and dove into the abs. I remember thinking at some point when I saw him vacuum that I could stick part of my hand into the groove between his obliques and abs. I was wrong, I got up to my elbow. I was actually able to feel the space behind abs and almost touch my fingers inside of his stomach cavity. He put his hand on my back and gently pressed me into his abs to reciprocate the hug. Before descending again, I reached in-between his ab columns. I got up to my shoulder and still couldn't feel the end of the tunnel.

Also curious about something else, I scooted back a little and reached up towards his pecs. I easily slid my hand in between the two. It was hot and slick in there. With the pecs jammed up against each other all of the time, he must just build up body heat and sweat like crazy. I reached my other hand in and continued to stand. Once my head entered, the entire world went dark and silent. It was like those movies where a bomb goes off and they mute the volume for a couple of minutes for effect. All light and sound vanished except I could hear Mikey's heart beat pulsing through the muscle tissue. By the time I got to my waist, my hands were feeling the deep crevice at the top. When I was fully standing up on his legs, my head reached fresh air again. I felt like I was in a funnel. Directly in front of me, was the top of his sternum, leading to his neck. In all other directions were pecs jutting upward. Mikey craned his neck and looked down as best he could. Think about trying to look at the bottom of your neck to see a cut or a mole or something. Now picture that mole as being a person almost 1/3 of your height shimmying up through your pec cleavage. He grinned and said hey but it was a cross between a croak and a whisper since he was holding his breath. The vibrations from his voice box were almost overwhelming - If continued for an extended period of time in that position, I would have disintegrated. 

As for getting face-to-face time with Mikey, I figured this was as good as it would get. Nonchalantly, I started just telling him about work and where my company was going. It was pretty much a one sided conversation, though he did nod and croak a few one word responses. I must have been fairly comfortable standing with his pecs holding me up, because we maintained that position for a good 30 minutes. I didn't even realize how fast the time had flown, and wanted to allow Mikey to breath again - though he seemed perfectly content. I began to adjust my footing to determine which would be easier, going up or back down. Diving through the pecs even came to mind, but I did not know where I would land once I came out. I managed to start turning myself around and found a mound of flesh that gave me some traction. As I continued turning and stepped, I heard (and felt) a rumble emanating from Mikey's chest. When I had turned myself completely around, I realized that I must have stepping on the underwear's pouch and the fabric was why it was easier to maneuver on. I tried to adjust where I was stepping but it was too late. Mikey's pecs squeezed a little bit harder and I knew it would be impossible to get out. Mikey slowly started to gyrate his hips and I could feel my feet be rubbed back and forth over the underwear pouch. 

My climbing rope solidified into a pole and started to rise up. The solid surface gave me something better to stand on and I began pushing with all of my strength but only managed to get a few inches higher. My attempt made the rumble grow in strength. I heard a whack and felt a ripple through his pecs in front of me. The space between the pecs started to part and I silently cheered that I would be free again. This turned out not to be completely wrong. Instead, the sheath fabric entered my space and the pecs closed in behind it. The top of the underwear was around my chin. While before, my climbing rope was bigger than both of my hand wrapped around it, it had grown to be larger than my torso. Realizing what might be coming, I really began to scramble to get out, pushing with my feet at the base of the sheath and pulling down on the fabric in front of my with my hands. Thinking that I would use the fabric to be able to climb up again was another incorrect assumption. All I managed to do was make the sheath harder and wedge me in more. I kept struggling and it became like quicksand where everything I did made it more difficult to escape. I started to get crushed in-between sternum, pecs and underwear. I never would have imagined saying that sentence before or ever again.

I couldn't breath. The world was beginning to turn dim. With everything I had left, I pushed at the base with my legs since that had worked originally, knowing full well that it would accomplish nothing. Mikey bucked a few times while I was doing this and thick cream began to ooze out of the top. It didn't spray or shoot any where because fabric. I began blacking out as a warm feeling crept up my neck. A jolt shocked me out of it - Mikey still hadn't taken a breath in 45 minutes. And, oh my gosh, I can't breath and am going to drown. The cream was still being produced. It started pooling in the crater that I now lived in. Mikey's pecs relaxed a little bit and I no longer felt the life being crushed out of me. However, the cream was quickly passing my nose and almost my eyes. I hadn't taken a breath in well over 2 minutes and that was without training, scrambling in fear and almost blacking out from being crushed. I tried to move with whatever strength I could muster, but it was no use, any place I tried to move my hands was too slick to get any traction. Everything below my shoulders was still pinned, anyway. I quickly found myself fully submerged and the level was still rising. I would have thrashed about, but I had no strength left and no direction I could thrash in. My chest started hurting from holding my breath. My diaphragm started convulsing up and down, screaming for me to fill my lunges with air. All that was left was giving in. I just relaxed - resigned to my fate now - and let the liquid into my lunges. 

Minutes went by before I realized that I was not dead. I couldn't see anything. There's wasn't any air. Was that not death? I took a deep breath. That wasn't air that entered my lunges, but at the same time I no longer felt like I was drowning. In fact, I felt better than I had in any recent memories. Just then, something hit me in the back of my head. I felt the same thing hit my hands a couple of times and then swivel around my head a bunch. Finally my vision cleared some and I was able to wipe my eyes. The object was Mikey's tongue. He couldn't reach everywhere, but did manage to get my head and hands. The bottom half of my face was still submerged and the fabric was still producing cream, albeit at a slower pace. Mikey croaked to get that, then paused and croaked a please. It was definitely coming out at a quick enough pace to submerge me completely once more in another minute. I leaned my head forward and began to breath through the fabric. Doing this caused Mikey to start bucking again before the production started to go faster than it had originally. I compensated by breathing quicker and much deeper. When it started to slow after around 10 minutes, again Mikey began bucking and it became even faster. It kept happening a countless number of times. Each time was faster than the previous one. I do not know how I kept up, but I did. Finally it slowed up until it stopped. I breathed in everything that was around me, using my hands to scoop things up. I even scraped down Mikey's skin and my own clothing. I was a little bit disappointed when I had to breath air again. 

I felt the world shift as Mikey sat on his sofa. I never understood why he had bought such a small sofa. I couldn't see it, but knew that Mikey would be hanging off both ends. He croaked a question asking if I was ok. I tilted my head all the way back and could see the exhaustion on his face. I attempted to respond but all that came out was the sound of someone trying to talk under water. I waved at him and tried to push on the sheath. He nodded and spread his arms out and as far back as he could go. That was enough for the sheath and me to get dislodged. The sheath was still hard, but slowly becoming softer. I rode it down like an elevator and got off at the floor. I coughed a few times to clear my throat before being able to talk. I quickly exclaimed that Mikey had to breath. He finally took in a deep breath and was breathing heavy for a few minutes after. I asked him why he wasn't breathing before and he said that my feet would have been crushed where they were. That made sense. I thanked him for allowing me to continue to walk, with a chuckle. Although, I found myself standing on bare feet. I had come in with sandals on, but they must have gotten lost somewhere in there. I certainly wasn't going back to find them. 

I asked him how he managed to hold his breath for an hour. He told me about how when he made himself calm, and the testosterone started being produced from holding his breath, he could go for around two hours. He said it was like something inside of him still allowed oxygen absorption or that it replaced the need for oxygen. He looked over at the clock and gestured. I glanced at it and saw that it was 3 AM. Mikey was standing there with me standing on him for over 8 hours. He just smiled and said that he knew he had to do it and somehow managed to get past his previous record of 2 hours. He then got a solemn look on his face and thanked me. It was a genuine heartfelt thanks - I had never seen him with such a serious look on his face and knew that he really meant it. He said that for the past three years, he was unable to "do the deed" and in fact couldn't get it up in the slightest. During any diet or exercise routine he could not focus on it at all and needed some release from the tensions of work and life. He felt like he was exploding for all of that time and I never knew about it. After 50+ times tonight, he felt like he could finally breath again (pun intended).

 

 

Game Nights Part 4 - My Turn

After chatting for close to another hour, I decided to head home. I looked at my clothes and they were not in good shape. When I had looked at my bare feet before, were my clothes in this condition? I shook my head to clear my thoughts because I was actually having trouble seeing my feet under my pecs. I had to bend over way more than usual, but that was causing some light headedness. Over the past few years, I actually had kept up with working out and attempting to maintain a good diet (attempted, but not exactly succeeded). I was not as pear shaped as I had been before Mikey's moving day. My hips were still on the larger side, but at least my shoulders were a bit wider. In the previous few months, I had started gaining somewhat of a V-taper. With the wide hips, it formed a little bit of an X-shape or maybe you would call it more of an hour-glass shape, but that was much better than a pear. I was hovering around 20% body fat, so I did not have visible abs and a little bit of a gut. My pecs were always the hardest to get to respond, but I guessed I had made more progress than I originally thought.

I asked Mikey if he had any old clothes I could borrow since I did not look so hot with dried sweat (among other things) and ripped clothing covering my body. Even if they didn't fit it was fine since I just needed to get home. After eight hours of standing there and experiencing all of that, I felt ready to explode and really needed to bang one out (but not in a million years at my friend's house). Mikey said that he still had some older clothes in his office closet. I went upstairs to check out what I could find and just threw my shirt and pants into the trash. There was a nice 3xl shirt in there. I started to put that on, but I couldn't even get my arms in there. My memories of Mikey wearing that shirt and how the manufacturer's cut was wrong flickered. I also found that one frayed t-shirt and jeans he had on a couple of birthdays ago. I held it up and wondered how he ever fit into that. I also pulled out the pair of jeans. Even though I remembered them being short on him, they should have been gigantic on me since he was over 15 feet tall, right? 

I pulled on the shirt and laughed at the torn sleeves. The little tears at the shoulders were growing a little bit more inwards while I was looking at myself in the next door bathroom mirror - that was odd. Pulled down, the shirt didn't even reach to my belly button and it was completely stretch at my chest to the point of being slightly see through. I looked like two cheese wheels somehow managing to fit into a spandex knee brace. Without a rounded gut like Mikey's, the shirt did not roll up. It was basically form fitting over top of my flared out lats and ended around the middle of my "hour glass". It wanted to take the path of least resistance and staying in place made less strain than rolling up would have. With the shirt ending right at my stomach's mid-point, it totally highlighted my nice v-taper that I was getting. I nodded in approval. I slapped my small gut hard as a salute to my nice bulges everywhere. It jiggled a little. I attempted one of Mikey's vacuums in the mirror. I exhaled fully and sucked in my stomach. I was taken aback that my stomach tightened as much as it did and actually made the shirt hang loosely from my ribcage in the front. Corrugated muscles popped out all over the landscape. My obliques were absolutely massive - a pear shaped advantage to the apple's narrow hips. Proportionally, they were definitely bigger than Mikeys, though his would be comparably longer because of his longer torso:leg ratio. My abs were not as shredded looking as Mikey's, and they had big globular shapes to them. It was interesting that Mikey's abs at 35% body fat looked a little bit better when flexed. His big ball gut must have been incredibly dense.

I found holding my breath to be somewhat easier given the 5 minutes or so that I was forced to hold it earlier and then around 8 hours of not breathing any air. I ran through some different angles and poses that I had seen Mikey do with his vacuum. Each motion sent shockwaves through the tensely flexed muscles. Sucked in like that it wasn't too shabby and spurred me to work on my waist a little more once I got home. When I released, I did not feel winded. My gut even looked slightly flatter than a few minutes prior. I attempted to adjust the shirt a little, but it wasn't having any of that with my pecs straining it up top.

I looked at my underwear and it was so tight that it resembled a thong. That was so weird, I did not remember wearing a thong to come to my friend's house. I tried to pull the pants on, but couldn't even get close. Things stopped around midway up my thighs because it was just getting too wide. This left my big muscular bubble shaped glutes - with a thong squeezed in-between - fully hanging out. I tried pulling from the bottom, but that was useless. The cuffs on the bottom left 6 inches exposed from my ankle up my leg. A few inches up from there, the lower part of the pant legs were completely wedged into my calves. I realized that I wouldn't be able to get these jean shorts up to the knee. Or were they more like daisy dukes - they looked short enough that they wouldn't even cover to mid thigh if I could have pulled them up to my waist. I took off the jeans and felt ripping near my armpits. The little tears started pulling apart, running down my lats on both side. Immediately after, the center of the shirt split at the collar and around my pecs. I was not entirely surprised given how tight the shirt was when I had put it on. A wave of something between euphoria and nausea overtook me. I felt like my time was running short and I needed to get home immediately. I was about to pop like that shirt just did. I went back into the office just as my thong burst free. I didn't even care, though.

I just opened the closet and grabbed the first thing that I saw. There was a big piece of fabric on the floor. I picked it up and quickly looked it over. The logo was the same that I remembered from around a year and a half ago. It was that pair of underwear Mikey was wearing after his shower. I would never in a million years wear someone else's underwear, but this was a special million and one circumstance. I just needed to get home. I knew that the underwear would be way too big for me, but I could just use a belt. Wait, my belt. I fished through the trash and found that my belt was a little torn, but still usable. I threw on the underwear and started wrapping the belt around my waist. Except, it did not fit around my waist. It barely even fit across my back. It must have been torn in half during all of the events of the night. I tossed the belt back into the trash and realized that I didn't even need it. I must have been mistaken about the boxer briefs being from over a year ago. 

I went back into the bathroom since I had trouble seeing what was going on any more without a mirror. Those boxer briefs were definitely too small even for me. They were completely wedged up between my legs and constricting my groin. I turned to the side and saw that they were completely wedged up my ass, looking like a thong. What was with underwear looking like thongs tonight? I tried to pull it out of my crack, but it was like stretching a rubber band. It kept snapping back to the same position. After one last attempt, the boxer briefs shredded on both sides. I had to crouch down to pull out the mega wedgie they had left in their wake. I got a huge head rush again leaning over like that and felt like I was going to hurl or blow. Nothing happened, and I shockingly was not even hard at that point. 

The snapped briefs went into the trash, too. They looked like they were much bigger on the floor in the closet. In the trash they seemed incredibly tiny. I found Mikey's leggings from last year and started pulling them on as I walked back to the bathroom. I had to step back to take it all in. The leggings were completely see through from all angles. They were stretched so thin that I was shocked they hadn't just shredded apart. There was no way they would have lasted until I got home - they weren't concealing anything anyway. I peeled them off and checked out the brand name. I thought about getting a pair that fits later on since they seemed to be pretty high quality and durable. 

Still stark naked, I peeked my head around the corner, looking down the staircase. Mikey was dozing on the couch. His back was propped up against the wall and his head wasn't going anywhere with his pecs keeping it in place. I darted down the steps and into his bedroom to find some of his bigger clothes. I would have worn a tent at that point, I didn't care. I found his underwear drawer, so it must have been a million and two circumstance. Even with his three years abstinent claim, I completely avoided the few sheath style briefs that I found. There was no circumstance where my sword should fit into someone else's sheath. He did have a few large pouch spandexy things. I grabbed one and put it on, holding the top so they wouldn't fall down. I looked into his closet for some type of pants. I found a pair of shorts that an elephant would probably wear. It was good enough. I could just tie them up somehow.

I checked to make sure Mikey was still asleep before darting back upstairs to the other bathroom. Quick in and out, I did not want Mikey to find me in his master bedroom or bathroom as I was already over the line for invasion of privacy (going through and wearing his underwear, as an example). As I neared the top of the steps, my heart was racing from running room to room, up and down steps. Another wave completely overtook me and I dropped to my hand and knees (the other hand still holding the shorts and underwear up). I started panting for air and moaning. The pain and pleasure rushing through my head was all that I could think about. I was basically at the point of orgasm for however many minutes I was frozen there. When it finally allowed some of my senses to return, one of the first things I realized was that I was still on the staircase. I used the moment of lucidity to crawl to the top and out of Mikey's field of view. I plopped down on the landing and felt around the front of the shorts for a wet spot. They were completely dry except for a bit of moisture from sweat. I felt a great deal of sorrow for my friend downstairs. If that was anything like what he had been experiencing for the past few years, I would have gone crazy. Still mostly enthralled, I got myself together enough to stand up and head to the bathroom.

Approaching the mirror, my gaze was drawn to my legs. My thighs were big enough to force me to roll each leg over each other as I walked. I could even feel my glutes flexing and bouncing with each step. I let go of the shorts and underwear and they stayed in place. I always thought that mens shorts looked stupid because they never seemed to be shaped correctly. Then, when they would hang from the person's waist, the inside or the outside edges always seemed to ride up. These shorts sat below my hip bone and formed perfectly around my quads. I was a bit surprised that being a little more than a foot shorter than Mikey, I could fill out his short this well. The design on them had a lighter color in the middle and dark lines going from the center waistband to the outside edges of my legs. Just the design alone and how it drew my eyes made my hips seem small and my quads gigantic. I could definitely have gotten used to having a better image of myself in a mirror. Did I not have a good opinion of my reflection before?

Turning to the side, my glutes perfectly filled out the back of the shorts and it really accentuated the shape. I wasn't able to pull them completely up to my hips for fear of ripping them over my ass, which left a good 6 inches of my glutes visible. My eyes trailed upwards. You know how models are down in the sub-7% body fat range to get their abs to pop, yet someone like Derek Poundstone has visible abs at 15%? The more muscle you have, the more body fat you can have and still show definition. Someone like Mikey at 35% body fat had big and bulbous muscles, giving them all a very rounded look instead of a cut and defined look. While I looking at myself in the mirror, I could have sworn that I had magically dropped under 10% body fat. My abs were these wide bricks stacked on top of each other. The top four were the only ones separated from the pack, with two columns bordering my belly button going down. However, I did not have any visible veins popping up - meaning I was at least 20% body fat, still. 

I imagined looking up a definition of bear mode in the dictionary and seeing my picture. My pecs showed a nice cut down the middle and a separation near the top at the upper chest. My torso was just thick all the way down (still curved inwards at my waist). My hips looked like hams were shoved in there with a massive adonis belt that joined forces with the ab columns to stretch the front of the shorts unnecessarily. My lats pushed my arms forward by about 20 degrees and to the side by 30 degrees. Unfortunately my smaller proportioned arms and shoulders looked completely eclipsed by what was going on in the middle. If you chopped off my arms, they would look quite impressive on their own. I seemed to remember that I had gotten my arms up to 19 inches, but these were clearly past 40 or 50 inches. It was a shame that they got outshined by everything else.

I could feel another wave washing over my brain and just mumbled about how it would have to do without a shirt. I shut off the lights in the bathroom and office before quickly making my way back down stairs. If I let it overtake me again, I could not foresee how long I would be debilitated. 

 

 

Game Nights Part 5 - Finally Some Clarity

Mikey was still dozing on the couch when I came downstairs. I woke him to let him know that I was leaving. I wanted to make sure that he locked up behind me - you never know when a robber might take advantage of an unlocked door and overpower you. He groggily smiled and stood up to give me a hug goodbye. I looked down at his legs, expecting to have to scale mountains. But we were the same height, weren't we? What was I doing when we first hugged last night? I looked at my hand and then at his chest cleavage. Wasn't I reaching up into his pecs with my whole arm before? My thoughts were interrupted as he reached me and we hugged. Since i was a taller, i just maneuvered my pecs a little and we were able to pat each other on the back. I held him for a moment remembering that the last time we managed to hug normally seemed like it was a few years ago. That thought too was interrupted as he was asleep again with face on my pecs.

I just held him there for a few minutes, gently rubbing his back. That was quite an ordeal he had tonight and indeed over the previous three years. I scooped him up in my arms and brought him to his back patio. He was heavy, but one of the benefits of being over a foot taller and wider was that he was small enough to carry. The back patio was a nice enclosed space. He had a quadruple sized reinforced hammock that he would sleep on when it was nice out. However the hammock did not look big, maybe it was a regular size and I was mistaken about it being larger. I laid him in there gently and lit his firepit. It was a nicely designed space, with ventilation for the firepit to keep you warm without smoking you out, and a cool cross breeze to give you fresh air. As I was lighting the pit, I heard a long rip and the shorts fell from my waist, split in half. I sighed and picked them up off of the patio floor. I got another head rush as I bent over and the micro modal fabric of the large pouched underwear was almost immediately straining in response. 

I decided to stay until he woke up just to make he was ok. That meant it turned into a million and three circumstance because I could not hang around without getting some relief. I went into his master bathroom because it had an oversized shower stall. I was past caring about invasion of privacy, I knew instinctively that I wouldn't have even made it home in that state. In the bathroom, Just turning on the water started making me harder. I wasn't even done adjusting the temperature when the micro modal underwear just exploded off of me - that stuff was was supposed to be super stretchy. Temperature be damned, this was happening regardless of hot or cold. I jumped into the stall and started shooting before the door closed behind me. Imagining having to clean up an eight hour mess if this was going to be anything like Mikey earlier, I decided to just "self clean" so to speak. Out of habit, I breathed in as opposed to swallowing. Luckily my pecs were much more manageable than Mikey's and I could reach my head to breath in on my own. 

Since I was already in the shower, I decided to clean myself. I still had residues from the various events earlier in the night. It was quite interesting washing myself in the shower with my head(s) locked in place. It took a good hour for one load, but luckily did not continue afterwards. It would have been awkward shooting again (and again and again and again) like Mikey had. I wasn't stopped up for three years like he had been, either. I finished rinsing and turned off the shower. I mouthed a curse when I realized that I had never searched for a towel. I just shook my head and let myself drip dry for a few minutes. My head was finally clearing and I could use the time to think. 

I had come in with sandals on and then lost them somewhere on Mikey's body. I bent over and looked at my feet - how in the world could I have lost size 30 sandals on his body? They would have been visible anywhere, even in-between his pecs. I tried to picture the sandals in my mind. I recalled being in the store and buying size 13's. I also remembered my shirt in the trash had been size xl. When I was trying them on, Mikey's 3xl shirt and the ripped one felt like they would be too big for me. So why was my mind telling me that I order custom sized shirts online? All of the underwear ripped apart even though they were drastically different sizes. All of the pants and shorts were stretched around my legs with them also being different sizes. No... my car, it was regular sized. Why did it make sense to find clothes to drive home? I would not even be able to fit one leg in the drivers seat let alone drive home in it. Even my home had 8 foot ceilings. How could I even live there? My subconscious kept telling me to shake these thoughts out of my head, but my brain finally wasn't listening.

Wait, Mikey was shorter than me when we first met by over a foot. Then he was much taller than me, more than 2.5 times my height. At that moment I was taller again by over two feet. Mikey was 5'2" a few years ago, right? He said that he was ready to explode for over three years. He was also 5'2" a little over three years ago. I finally pinned it down, things started changing when he started trying to exercise. No that's not it, he also said that he could not focus on a diet and exercise regime the whole time, which meant it started around when he moved into his house. I looked at the faucet, was it something in the water? No, it couldn't be. I knew for a fact that he drank filtered water from his refrigerator. 

I pondered what could be different between his life and mine. We ate the same types of food, nothing out of the ordinary - although I was more adventurous. He played more video games and was online more than me, but why would that cause this effect to happen?

By then, I was no longer dripping wet. I stepped out and found his linen closet for a towel. I quickly dried myself off and went back to his closet to find something very large and stretchy. I was no longer under the fog of my subconscious saying that Mikey's clothes would be too big. I concentrated for a moment on how much taller I was than Mikey, my brain still said somewhat over two feet. At least that meant I was not growing anymore (or even worse, both of us were growing at the same rate). I found a much larger pair of lycra leggings, made by the same company as the ones in the office closet. That would have to do. 

After stuffing myself into the leggings, I ran the towel through my hair one more time and hung it over the shower stall doors. It occurred to me that I would have a lot of explaining to do with all of the torn clothes now in the trash. I was fine just buying him all new clothes to replace anything that I had touched. The harder topic would be me going through his bedroom and even using his master bathroom shower without asking. Since I was there anyway, I decided to check out what the leggings looked like in the mirror. They were definitely tight, but not to the point of bursting - finally!

I tried to get some rough measurements even though my subconscious was telling me that I had already measured many times in the past. My brain was still fighting it off. It was actually quite difficult to measure since everything was so much bigger and my frame of reference was off. I looked at my hand and it seemed like a normal sized hand according to my eyeball judgement. However, just in relation to tiles on the floor and such, my hand had to have been at least 2 feet long. Using both hands as a quick ruler, my thighs were somewhere in the 90+ circumference range (almost 4 hands worth). I tried the same on my arms with more limited success. They were each in-between 2 hands and 3 hands - though closer to 2. A very rough estimate put them around 60 inches. My hands could not stretch far enough to fully cup my delts to judge their size. I felt the heft of my pecs. The felt like solid slabs of beef, though with the increased size they were probably closer to the entire slab of meat hanging to age in a butcher shop. I bounced my pecs in my hands to feel them pounding up and down and that flexed hard in the mirror. I could see slight signed of striations in the mirror, but not very distinct. That was wild to see at 20% body fat. I could recall flexing and barely seeing the separation at the bottom of my pecs before.

My eyes traveled down from my pecs and I noticed that my stomach was sucked in. My abs were clearly defined now. The increased muscle density while growing provided further separation (still no veins though). I did a quick hand measurement and it was roughly 80 inches (3 hands plus a bit more). I tried to inflate my gut and tense it again, but nothing happened. I wasn't purposefully or even fully doing a vacuum pose. Actually, I wasn't even breathing. 

I forced myself to think about it and my last breath of air I remembered taking was at the firepit. I recalled smelling the embers and then getting a head rush when bending over right next to it. I did gasp when the shorts had ripped off, but could not recall actually breathing air any time after that. I tried to inhale but my throat felt like it was closed. I tried to exhale and some air bubbled up and exited my mouth - causing my stomach to suck in just a tiny bit more. I went to inhale again and was still blocked. It was like swimming with a snorkel. If you went under water and exhaled, you could feel the bubbles leaving the tube but then you would be trapped until you reached the surface again to blow out the water. But in this case, i did not feel panicked about not breathing. Instead, i felt like i had plenty of oxygen and did not have to breath. I felt like I would have to address not having to breath at some point, but it was not a critical situation at that moment.

So the firepit... could there be something in there? I knew it was some type of synthetic coal and not wood. It even had a pretty yellow color to the brickettes. Some weird smoke could have some hallucinogenic effects and possibly distort perceptions. I knew that Mikey slept out there on the patio most of the time. Whatever residual smoke may have been hanging around the house when I would stop by, but not concentrated enough to have the long term effects that Mikey was facing. Having his breathing stopped while he slept might also explain why he took to doing the stomach vacuums so quickly and could hold his breath for record breaking lengths of time. I also had the marathon of not breathing air for eight hours straight, but I also had everything that was stored up over three years saturating my lungs - it obviously resulted in a much greater impact than residual smoke that had not been completely ventilated. 

It was around 7AM by then. I went to confirm my suspicions and found that Mikey was not breathing out on the hammock. I extinguished the flames and picked him up to bring him to his bed. I closed the door behind me to prevent any more of the smoke from coming. I smiled at the thought - I would not have imagined this yesterday. Here I was carrying 15+ foot tall Mikey and being able to maneuver enough to close a door without dropping him. But I was always big enough to hold him like that... Damn, I shook my head with disgust. That stuff works fast. Luckily I still wasn't breathing, as inhaling it would probably have a much greater impact. I went to lie Mikey down on his bed, but why did he buy such a small bed. it was supposed to be a double sized king and looks smaller than a twin with him on it. I quickly bit my lip to try to stay centered in reality. I shut his bedroom door and opened his windows to help bring in some fresh air.

It was still difficult to concentrate, and took everything I had to keep focused on the matter at hand. I reached up and touched the ceiling. At least Mikey had lucked out by getting 24 foot cathedral ceilings. Otherwise, He would have been smashed into the place some time last year. I ran my hand along the ceiling to the doorway. The door was completely removed with a good chunk of the wall. At some point, Mikey must have had contractors out to reframe the doorways. I had never noticed that his doors went almost to the ceiling and were 16 feet wide. Everything had always registered as normal. Speaking of which, the office wall had been completely removed, along with the upstairs bathroom's wall. The only thing each of the rooms had were those room separator accordion type doors. My mind was still boggling over how these obviously strange things did not even phase me a few hours ago. 

On the opposite side of the bedroom, Mikey had a bench installed that could hold him. I gently tested it out and it seemed sturdy enough to hold me, too. I then heard Mikey take a deep inhale and then sounded like the normal labored breathing that people do when they sleep. That was good, at least one thing was off my mind. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I had been awake for over 24 hours (minus whatever amount of time i had been blacked out) and it was starting to wear on me. I obviously couldn't leave the house looking like this, and it was going to be difficult explaining the situation to Mikey since he had been under the influence of whatever that stuff was for over three years. To make matters worse, I still could not breath, meaning I also would not be able to speak. I sighed, or rather a couple bubbles trickled up my throat and escaped. I dozed off with the singular thought that I hoped I would wake up in my right mind.

 

 

Game Nights Part 6 - The New Paradigm

I woke up sometime around noon. I felt so groggy, I could have slept for another five hours. My roommate Mikey was in my bed and I was slowly realizing that I was on my corner bench seat. I tried to remember when we went to bed last night. We must have been so drunk. Even though I could not recall, I obviously brought Mikey to my room instead of his hammock. I stood up and stretched, rubbing my hands against the ceiling. I got a sudden chill and noticed the window was open. I rubbed my bare chest and could feel the goosebumps popping up. After closing the window, I rubbed at my arms and shoulders to warm myself up a bit. 

I inspected the current situation. I looked over my roommate to make sure he was ok. The silly guy was just wearing underwear and it was really cold in there. Other than his underwear being a little bit crusty, he seemed fine. He was in one of those sheath style underwear brands that he liked so much. Normally, I am not checking out my roommate, but laying there with no other clothes on he was basically on full display. He definitely looked bigger than usual - about as long as his thigh. It was kind of like when you have sex and don't fully go down afterwards. That not-fully-done chub state. It was not that I disapproved of the sight. He was actually looking pretty manly like that with the sheath somehow still covering it all. Nodding as a sort of "good for you", I pulled a blanket over him so that he would not catch a cold. We were just roommates and not partners, though I did not mind him being in my bed or basically being naked laying there. We never really talked about sexual orientation, but I suspected that he was bisexual, leaning towards women. I was more asexual, not really seeking the company of men or women. If a situation came up, I would go with the flow and wind up not enjoying it as much as the other party. I knew how to please myself and had not found anybody else who could come close. Just because I was not interested in men or women didn't mean that I stopped having fantasies. Since we were not specifically "into each other", Mikey being in my bed was not a big deal and it was better to just let it go. We shared most things around the house, anyway. Even without being a couple, we still cared deeply for each other. I would do anything for Mikey, even give my life to save his. And I knew he felt the same way.

With Mikey safe and resting soundly, I went into the bathroom. It was a little bit warmer there. I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror. I had to brush my hair a little with my hand - it was really messy, as if I had taken a shower and just let it dry with only a quick tussle of a towel. I had at least a day's worth of beard growth going and it was coming in pretty evenly. In another day or two, I would have a nice full beard. Also, I was only wearing leggings with no underwear. The previous night was beginning to be curiouser and curiouser. It looked like I had just jammed on the pants with reckless abandon. I pulled them part way down to take a leak. I really had to go - yep, there was definitely a ton of alcohol last night. I readjusted my package before pulling the pants back up. Allowing my penis to run down my inner thigh prevented any pain later on from constriction.

I had to I wiped a little bit of drool from the side of my face and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. What day was it? With the hair, beard growth and pants, it seemed like I had lost an entire day. I pondered the question for a moment as I scratched at the beard. My best guess was that it seemed like a Saturday. That was good, Mikey was off on Saturdays and I could just let him sleep in.

I walked out of my room to check email up in the office. On my way, I stopped by the kitchen to start brewing some coffee. I opened up a bag and poured the entire pound of coffee grounds into the filter. I grabbed two gallons of water from the pantry and filled the machine's reservoir. I flipped the on switch and sauntered towards the staircase. Through the front window, I noticed a car parked on the street. Those crazy neighbors were always parking in front of our house. Mikey and I never minded though since we both worked from home. He had his work with the global supplies company and I was sole proprietor of my home business. The weekends were always my time on the main computer and he took 7-4 (or longer) on weekdays. We had a laptop floating somewhere around if either of us had to use the computer while the other was working. Upstairs, I started responding to client emails and creating a priority checklist for the weekend. Things were pretty light, which was both good and bad. Nice to get some free time, but hard on the wallet with less billable hours to submit. I could hear the coffee machine beep downstairs. On the way out, I noticed the trashcan full of ripped clothing. Mikey and I really needed to stop getting drunk (or AS drunk as we must have been last night). At minimum, I missed out on something wild.

Before getting started on my weekend list, I had to wake up a bit more. I poured myself a cup into my gallon sized beer stein (which doubled nicely a coffee mug). With coffee in hand, I stared out the back windows. The firepit looked like it had been used and then snuffed out, but nothing was cleaned up. Perhaps we had sat out on the patio for a while and Mikey had passed out. Or maybe Mikey had slept there at some point during the night and then had come upstairs because it was too cold even with the fire running.

The coffee was nice. It was the perfect amount of heat on a chilly afternoon mixed with enough caffeine to bypass whatever lack of sleep I was feeling. It certainly did the trick and I decided to go for a quick run. Especially when exercising, my body produced so much heat that I forewent with putting on a shirt. I was like a plugged in laptop power cord. When I was off, I was cool to the touch. When I was running, you could burn your hand. I figured a nice brisk run would certainly get me going without overheating. I grabbed a set of keys and attached them to my leggings. Then, out the door I went. 

Whenever I went for a run, I always had to use the street. There were some complaints from the neighbors since I would have one foot on the sidewalk and one foot in their yards. More so when it had rained recently, I would leave footprints around the neighborhood. Whenever I tried to run on just the sidewalk, the path was so narrow that I eventually tripped every time. The street was perfectly fine, though. I could run faster than the 25 mile an hour speed limit in the neighborhood and also easily hopped over any cars that might be coming in the other direction. 

See, Mikey and I lived in a community of little people. All of them were only like five feet tall or something. Maybe a few came up to Mikey's waist, but none reached mine. They were all extremely light, too. Mr. Briggs down the street complains about weighing 350 pounds and thinking that he is too heavy. Either Mikey or I could shot-put him maybe a quarter of a mile away if we were so inclined. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. Another guy, something Italian like Donatello or Donato (I just call him Donny), talks about his big muscles all of the time. He is a tiny 200 pounds soaking wet - I would totally put my money on Briggs in a fight. I might be able to punt little Donny at least a mile if I caught the wind just right. Those two are probably considered the biggest fellows in the neighborhood next to us. 

All of those little people drove in these cute little cars. They reminded me of an electronic jeep that I had when I was a kid. I was sure that our neighbors all thought their little vehicles were impressive. I kept my opinion about them looking like toys for children to myself. Who was I to tell them otherwise.

I came up to Ms. Ellie's house after a couple minutes of jogging. She lived around two miles away from us on the other side of the neighborhood. Ms. Ellie was an attractive 50 something year old little lady - nice as could be. As I approached, she greeted me and called me "hot stuff". I often wondered if Ms. Ellie was a cougar. I gave a cheerful wave in response. She looked me up and down and lingered on my legs. She then made a sly comment about how the cold didn't have any shrinkage effect. It occurred to me that I forgot to put on underwear before leaving and was obviously on display down my inner thigh. I blushed profusely, but there wasn't much I could do about it. She got a big grin on her face for still having the ability to make a man over 3 times her height blush. The grin faded quickly as she asked me for a quick favor. The Delinger boy next door to her constantly parked too close to Ms. Ellie's car. She always had to go next door and ask them to move it. Since she was just running to the store for a few things, she asked if I could help her out. I happily complied and gently grabbed the undercarriage of the car with both hands. It was a little bit of a strain to pick it up, but I could have carried it all the way back to my house two miles away. As gently as I could, I placed it into the middle of the street. She winked at me and said that she would stop by over the weekend and drop off some cookies from Mikey and me. Ms. Ellie worked at a bakery and always brought home extra dough that would otherwise be thrown out. She usually had cookies overflowing from her kitchen and loved to give them away. Mikey and I were both trying to watch our weight, but who could say no to free freshly baked cookies. Plus, she would bake a single cookie per cookie sheet whenever she made them for us. It was divine compared to the store bought junk where you need to eat an entire sleeve of cookies for one mouth full. Her eyes were lingering on my legs again as she said that she would see me later and called me hot stuff again. Although it sounded more like she freudian slipped - calling me hot stuffed. I then upgraded her in my head to: totally a cougar and possibly into me. I jogged next to her car for a minute as she approached the main connecting road outside of our community. At the last street, I made the motion of blowing a kiss to her and took off to the left. I jogged for another twenty minutes before turning back towards home. 

A few blocks from us was a park, mostly for the neighborhood kids. They had a bunch of salvaged or repurposed items. It was really neat that the crafty people in the neighborhood spent the time and effort to make a beautiful playground out of reclaimed pieces. The park was ideally situated right in the middle of the community. Most of the kids had less than a mile to walk before getting to play - good suburban planning from the original builders.

There was this old monster truck with most of the exterior stripped down. Sandpits were placed around so that the kids would have a soft landing if they fell. A slide was constructed over the engine block to prevent anybody from falling in. Kids could climb up the tires, play around in the flatbed in the back and pretend that they were driving it. Overall, it made for a nice big jungle gym for the little people and their kids. It also made for an excellent piece of gym equipment for Mikey and me. Generally, we would only use it if nobody else was around. Every once in a while, we would stand with one of us on each side and "fly" it around with the kids inside. The rules were they either had to be in the front seats or sitting on the flatbed holding on to the constructed railings. If anybody at all broke those rules, the game would be over for everyone. Needless to say, none of the kids ever broke the rules so that they could get the chance to fly in a monster truck. We would make the motions like they were launching off of a hill and landing on other trucks. We would make the crunching sounds like there were big metal-on-metal collisions. All of the kids cheering was sometimes deafening, but it was so much fun. 

With all of the extra additions and construction, the monster truck weighed around 12,000 pounds. I slid under it and grabbed both wheel axles. I then started pressing it slowly into the air. While neither Mikey nor I could perform the "flying" carry by ourselves (at least not stably enough to prevent the kids from being launched out of it), we could use it for bench, squats (with assistance) and deadlifts. Deadlifts were the hardest to perform because we basically needed to grab the flat bed side and stand up with the truck sticking straight out in front of us. I could bang out a couple of reps since I was taller and had a longer reach. With the truck standing 12 feet tall and 12 feet wide, while Mikey stood a little over 15 feet tall, I had to provide assistance on the slide side to maintain his balance. 

9... 10...... 11.............

Try as I might, I could not lock out a 12th rep. Still, 10 was my previous max so getting one more was great. I stretched my arms out to the sides for a minute before grabbing the axles again.

7... 8...........

My arms started sinking back, but then I gritted my teeth and gave it my all - 9! I slowly lowered the truck back down. My entire body was shaking by this point, but I wanted to milk that negative rep for all it was worth. My chest was burning like lava was about to erupt out of it. Steam started billowing off of my pecs into the chilly air. I was not looking down, but I could imagine that they were turning pitch black with my sulfur rich blood pumping through them. The wheels finally touched the ground and my arms flopped to the side like they were made of jelly. I closed my eyes and concentrated on flexing my pecs to keep the blood in them. I imagined what it would be like if they keep expanding and my entire body would grow to match. I had to stop myself from that train of thought because I started getting hard. The last thing I needed was to run the rest of the way home naked if the leggings gave out on me.

After the much needed minute of rest, my arms were ready for action. I slid out from under the truck. I brushed a bunch of the sand from my back and ass before starting on some pushups. I performed 100 regular, then 50 with each arm, and finally 20 handstand-to-planche pushups. Now completely pumped, it was time for one more set under the truck.

4... 5..... 6............

 

 

Game Nights Part 7 - Introducing Morgan

Mikey found himself in an unfamiliar place. Darkness was covering the room, but he could feel cold stone or concrete below him. It took quite a bit of time for his eyes to start adjusting. When they did, he could start to see walls - one, two, three, and the fourth seemed to be open. He started walking in the open direction but something impeded his movement. It was cold, cold iron bars - he was in a cell. He quickly searched the other three walls to see if there was a means for escape, to no avail. He called out through the bars for help, but he had no voice. He was trapped and nobody was coming to save him.

Some amount of time passed: days, weeks, months, or maybe even years. There were no windows to tell the passing of time. The halls were just as dark as his cell. Some light must have been coming from somewhere or else he would be in total darkness. However, the amount of light always stayed the same without a day/night cycle. Nothing was there except for Mikey and the cold iron bars. Time started to bleed together and trying to determine days became irrelevant. 

Mikey knew that he was in prison awaiting his execution. 

The passing of time also grew his anticipation for the event. When would it happen? How would it happen? The only question Mikey was not asking was why, because he already knew the answer to that one. When the stress became unbearable, he began to grow. At first it was unnoticeable. You cannot tell that you have grown an inch without even being able to see your surroundings. It wasn't until he was around a foot taller when he started detecting a difference. The bars on the cell seemed smaller. From the day before or even a week before, the bars would have seemed the same. But Mikey could recall the first time he touched them. The growth continued. By the time he was three feet taller, he found out that there was a ceiling. By seven feet taller, he could no longer walk around the cell without scrapping his head. The unbearable anticipation turned into agonizing torture. 

Mikey finally realized the method of his execution. 

His fate was to be tormented with size until finally being crushed within the cell from his own growth. Though with the size increase also came an unbelievable strength increase. Mikey began to fight back. He spent his days slamming his fist into the wall - at the same spot over and over. He could feel the stone being chipped away. When he reached around 15 feet taller than he was originally, Mikey could no longer sit up in the cell. That did not deter him from his mission of slamming the wall. By then, too, his gargantuan fists shook the room with each jab. The hole in the wall was a few feet deep, but the wall's thickness seemed to go on forever. Eventually, his escape attempt had to come to an end. By 25 feet taller, he was too big to maneuver any more for a punch. He still dug his finger into the hole he had created, scrapping whatever he could out of it. That too eventually came to an end. Mikey grew to the point of feeling like a sardine packed into a can. There was no more available space and the execution date was finally upon him.

Suddenly, the entire jail exploded from some unknown source. Mikey was not injured and was just extremely relieved that he could continue growing in peace. And grow he did. He quickly reached 50 feet. Looking at his hands, he was reminded of the rock golem in the Never-ending Story. They indeed looked like such big strong hands. He felt like he could crush the former prison with just one punch. By 100 feet tall, Mikey could no longer determine where the prison was. Not like he cared, anyway. The power rushing through him was all that he ever needed to know until the end of time. By 500 feet tall, he knew that he was a god and would rule over everything now and forever.

Fate had other plans, though.

The visage of his roommate came into view. They reached for each other, but the roommate vanished in a cloud of smoke before they could touch. Mikey began to shrink rapidly. Before he knew it, he was under 50 feet tall and still shrinking. The prison was in view again and quickly approaching. Mikey felt like he was falling, but his feet never left the ground. Cold wind rushed by him. He reached his original height, standing amongst the rubble, and continued his descent. He became buried under the stones and cinder. Any one of the pieces of rubble could have completely crushed him. The wind was still blowing and Mikey could no longer tell if his fate was to to vanish, be crushed or freeze.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and then a warmth covering his body. All of the anticipation and fear melted away. The prison no longer existed, Mikey was finally safe.

==========

Mikey roused from his slumber. He felt nice and cozy with a blanket wrapped around him. He rolled over, wrapping himself into a cocoon with the blanket. He smiled as the dream/nightmare faded from existence and then dozed off again.

==========

After my last set under the truck, I rolled out and brushed the sand off again. I went back to doing pushups. I continued going, without counting, until reaching failure. Even then, I rested for a few seconds and pumped out a few more. I kept doing that until I could not do a single pushup after the few seconds of rest. I slammed into the ground - slam is a fairly accurate description. If one of the little people was doing pushups it would have been more of a plop, while me hitting the ground vibrated all of the houses within a 500 foot radius of the earthquake's epicenter. I felt like a turtle on its back (even though I was on my chest). My arms were absolute mush. I couldn't even use them to roll myself over. I sort of wiggled my feet for a bit and then used them as leverage to pry myself up on to my side and then on to my back. I did a kip-up, although at my size a kip-up only helps me to reach a seated position. There is no way in hell I could move the amount of mass needed to land on my feet. Or maybe I could, I made a note to myself to try it when I had use of my arms.

With some smart maneuvering, I was able to get up to my feet to start walking home. My chest was completely black and pumped with blood, with it spreading to my shoulders, triceps, neck and upper abs. From a distance, it looked like I was wearing a black cut-off sleeveless shirt. I only had a couple of blocks left to walk and then I could try to bang out my weekend billables - I thought about how one might think that was a sexual innuendo as opposed to a business term. I tilted my head while in my "pondering" face. It would probably be both ways.

==========

Morgan patted himself off after getting out of the shower. His dark ebony skin always looked fantastic wet. The drips of water trickling down his body highlighted and accentuated all of his bulges and curves. He wrapped the towel around his waist and put on his glasses to check himself out in the mirror. He still had a great body from his years of playing football, but had definitely gotten fluffy after being out of the gym for 9 years. Even with the accumulated fat, his overall muscle size had not diminished much. A couple years ago, he and his friends were going to start working out, but you know how it is. You just get busy and there always seems to be tomorrow. 

Back then, Morgan used to go over to his friend Mikey's house for games nights. Then, life started getting in the way. He was too tired after work, or his wife took his attention away, or he just forgot. With all of the cancellations on his end, Mikey seems to start cancelling, as well. Then, game night almost completely stopped all together. The previous day was Mikey's birthday, but again with work and the wife, etc., etc. - time just slipped away once more. They had agreed to run a game night on Saturday (today), starting in the early afternoon, since Morgan's schedule was freed up. A few other friends were also going to come over. 

Morgan flexed his bicep in the mirror. It mounded up to an awesome 19 inches cold. He recalled being at Mikey's house a couple of years ago and Mikey had been bigger. He did not say anything at the time or even act like he noticed it, but Morgan was definitely a little jealous. As far as he knew, Mikey did not even work out so it was a slap in the face to have smaller arms. Morgan gritted his teeth and crushed his arms a little bit harder, gaining a bit more of a peak. He made a silent resolution to himself that after today, he would make time for the gym and regain his arm dominance over the rest of the game night group. It wasn't that any of them ever talked about muscle size when playing games, but Morgan knew that the others stole glances at his rolled up t-shirts and now that attention was being shifted to Mikey. 

Morgan moved into his bedroom, still with the towel wrapped around him, and grabbed a couple of dumbbells hidden in the back of the closet. He began fervently pumping out bicep curls. Even if Mikey was still bigger, Morgan wanted to give the best gun show that he could. 

His wife, Ashley, entered the room and smirked at the sight. The two of them were polar opposites. Ashley was a humble high school teacher - she taught STEM courses. In college, she fell in love with a jock on the football team. They dated for a few years and got married. Everybody could see that they loved each other, but they had nothing in common. Morgan played football and cared about his body (even though he let it go somewhat), while Ashley was an intellectual and put more effort into Morgan's body than her own. Morgan had quit football because he was secretly a gamer and wanted to spend 10 hours on a console rather than 10 hours a day on the field. Ashley had never even played a single video game and wanted to breed animals in her spare time. Morgan liked anime, sci-fi and fantasy vs. Ash's dry British shows, romantic comedies and teen dramas. How they made it work, nobody knew. But when they were together, they somehow were the perfect match.

Ash wanted to come over to game night with Morgan. She was actually friends with Mr. Briggs' sister up the street. The two Briggses lived together in the same house. Ash and the sister could then hang out while Morgan and his friends played some board games. Morgan grunted out his approval of the plan and did not even lose stride in his reps. Silently, both of them were impressed that Morgan was able to curl so much without having worked out in such a long time. If he really dedicated himself to the gym, his muscle memory would totally be like the Colorado Experiment. He grinned at the thought of gaining 50 pounds of muscle in a month. Then, there would be no way Mikey could come close to his own arms.

Ashley sauntered over to her husband. His biceps were definitely getting pumped from the exercise. She had been first interested in him because he was a jock. However, things changed and their relationship evolved. When they got married, Ash stopped caring about Morgan's body because she loved his heart. Unfortunately, he had also stopped caring about his body - leading to his current state. She still loved him for him, but if he did get super buff again, Ashley would have no complaints. She ran her finger along his exposed back. He was still a little moist from the shower. His little display of power and beautiful skin was totally making her hot. Ash tilted her head a little and ran her tongue around the curve of his shoulder. Morgan slowed his reps a bit to really squeeze out at the top. He held that position as Ash buried her tongue in the bulges and grooves Morgan's pumped arms were creating. He gave a low moan of pleasure in response. Ashley went up and kissed his neck and then his cheek. While she did this, an expert flick of her wrist sent the towel to the floor. 

Ashley then abruptly sauntered away and out of the room, keeping one eye over her shoulder to indicate that they would save "that" for later. Morgan had a silly grin on his face, completely naked. He was also completely hard both from his wife and the bloated pump his arms felt. Even if Ash hadn't removed the towel, his cock probably would have done the same job in another minute. Morgan, still smiling, naked and hard as a rock, resumed his bicep curls.

Ash basically sealed the deal in Morgan's mind. If doing a few bicep curls elicited that sort of response from his wife, he was most certainly going to dedicate any extra effort into working out. Happy wife, happy life. The prospect of what he could accomplish and how Ash would respond made him even more hard. If before he was as hard as a rock, he could now drill through steel. His dick even started to hurt from blood pounding into it. He focused on the pain and the burning sensation in his arms became background noise. 

On and on he kept curling the weights. His arms became so tight that he could only get halfway up before being blocked by his own skin and sinew screaming out like Popeye - it was all it could stand and it can't stands no more. Any blood not going to his arms was diverted towards his dick. It too was screaming out that it needed release. With his hands otherwise occupied, the pounding cock was on its own. Just as Morgan was about to blow without even touching himself, he slowly lowered the weights on to the bed and picked up his towel. He smirked down at little Morgan, knowing that he was going to save the energy from that masterful edging for later. Ash was going to get her just rewards for encouraging him on his new path.

Morgan wiped down any remaining moisture and sweat that had built up. He draped the towel on the shower rack and turned back to the mirror. He had to clean his glasses off since they got a little condensation from the steam still in the air around the shower. Just that 10 minutes made his somewhat fluffy body look borderline jacked. He flexed his arms hard and could immediately feel the cramps that were creeping in. He didn't even care as he flexed even harder. The peaks easily exceeded 21 inches now. Then Morgan groaned as the cramp in his arms overtook him. He shook them out and massaged his biceps some. He couldn't wait to see how Mikey compared.

==========

Mikey entered a dormitory at his college. He hadn't been there in many years and things looked the same yet slightly different. It was his freshman year of college and he had just arrived for the first time on campus. Inside of the entryway of the dorm was a courtyard (inside of the building). There were plants and trees, surrounded by a walking path. Birds chirped in the trees. In the center was a large ornate fountain with multiple tiers. Mikey looked up at the ceiling and there was a mural of the sun and clouds and the sky. The clouds were moving through the painting. 

His class for the day was meeting at the fountain, in the courtyard, inside of his dorm building. Because that's just how they roll in dream colleges.

Still carrying his luggage, since he had just arrived and not yet moved into his room, Mikey walked over and sat on the grass by the fountain. There were thirty or so other students there. One was his freshman year roommate but he did not recognize any of the others.

The professor stood on the edge of the fountain and began lecturing. Mikey could not hear any of the words, but instinctively knew that it was a biology lesson regarding anatomy.  The professor continued speaking in garbled words, but Mikey understood all of it. The anatomy lesson went into ways to make muscles grow and change peoples sizes. 

The professor was now standing on the second tier of the fountain. She continued on with the lesson but somehow was on the third tier without breaking any stride. Each tier she went up, she became bigger and bigger, as if to give a real time demonstration to the class about what she was talking about. Without even Mikey realizing it, the professor was on the fourth tier and was a massive giant. Mikey was confused and impressed at the same time. He wondered how she was doing it. He looked at his fellow classmates to see their reactions and they were all giants, as well. Mikey looked down and found that he was sitting on a single blade of grass that was strong enough to hold him up.

A chime rang out like in a high school, indicating that class time was over. The giant professor began to describe what everyone had to do for homework. The chime rang again, indicating that class was over once more. Mikey was distracted from his homework assignment and his heart pounded loudly three times in his chest.

The other students began to pack up their things as the chime started going continuously telling them that class was over. Wait, what? Mikey's eyes opened slowly and he found himself in bed, wrapped up in a blanket. There was a rapid pounding on the front door. He groaned and dragged himself out of bed. With eyes still pretty much shut, he walked out of the bedroom like a zombie.

Edited by Desato
Added part 7
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Thanks for the likes. Part 4 is mostly written. I actually spent last night writing a lot of part 5 until almost 5AM. I had to work tonight, but hopefully I'll be able to finish 4 tomorrow.

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It was ina spawn of 4 years that he became a giant and they dont remember it :O

It's an interesting story im sure i will read what's next

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I am so happy that people are reading it. Thank you Ro and everyone else for checking it out. This is giving me motivation to get more parts of Game Nights and some of my other stories finished and posted.

I added part 4 to the original post. It was around half of the length of the other parts, but I added a bunch to it tonight. Part 5 should be up soonish. I have it mostly written, but it is on my ipad. It will take quite a bit of editing to fix the spelling mistakes (and horrible autocorrections) :) I have two ideas for where part 6 might go. One way goes into the character(s) trying to find out what is going on. The other is more of a fun side story, exploring the effects of the "brainwashing". Neither is started, yet, so if you have a preference feel free to post!

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his changes were more drantic and not as slow as his friend. 

Maybe the cum had something to do with it. He was drowned in it afer all....

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I just put up part 5 into the original post. The narrator gets a clear enough head to think things through. I hope you enjoy!

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I went through a couple rounds of edits on part 6 and finally have it posted (at the end of the original post. I decided to go with the alternate storyline. I'll explore that some before returning to the main one. I only have a little bit written on part 7 and have the ideas swirling in my head for 8 and 9. It might be a few days before another part is ready to go.

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3 hours ago, anormorph said:

This is a really engaging read, Desato!  The reality-altering/not-necessarily aware vibe you're working with is absolute treat to read!

Thanks so much! Yeah, I deliberately have left out dialog in order to reinforce the reality-altering side of the story. Whenever the narrator has a question, it is more of an internal monologue directed at the reader. It has been a little challenging to keep the characters from talking :)  Having the narrator become mute has helped a bit lol

People not being aware is actually my own muscle growth fantasy. If I grew huge, I would rather people just accepted it as normal rather than treat me differently. Along those lines, at some point I'll write a story about what I would do with three wishes from a genie. It is probably way different from anybody else in the world.

I wrote about half of part 7 yesterday. I want to bring the ex-football player back in. I swear his arms in reality (as in the real person the character is based on) are just insane. Whenever I see him, I want to ask his arm size, but I do not want to be rude since he doesn't work out any more. I wouldn't want him thinking that I was making fun of his size/amount of fat. I had mentioned that a lot of the events were based on truth. Mikey did move into a new house. The football player and I were helping him move and got to chatting. He said that he missed football because it kept him in great shape - but hated how it basically dominated his entire life. A couple of weeks later, I did tell both Mikey and football guy that the three of us should start getting in better shape. I think  I am the only one following through with it, though :(  Mikey has those massively wide shoulders and football guy has ginormous biceps. If they got in shape, they would be so impressive looking. For now, I'll just have to make do with both of them growing in this story.

I also want to do something with Mr. Briggs - the 350 pound guy. He and Donny were sort of thrown into part 6 of the story in my last round of edits. But now the thought of Briggs becoming a giant muscle chub is an exciting prospect. Donny is loosely based on a real person. We are friends, but he has always made me feel small (not deliberately). I am on the fence whether Donny should get bigger.

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I finished writing part 7 and got about half of part 8 together. After a couple of rounds of edits, I'll put up 7.

I did pull in the ex-football player character again. His name is Morgan, which I find funny because the real Mikey and Morgan do share the same first letter of their names :)

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