Way Too Big by F_R_Eaky

[FREaky]

Way Too Big

by F_R_Eaky

 [Kind of going for a rework of a short little story here.  Hope you find it entertaining.]

Paul was an average man living an average life, in an average city, in an average neighborhood, in a fairly average house, but it was one of those turn of the last century Victorian houses so it was a little on the big side.  

 

Every day the slightly hairless, five foot eleven inch tall, one hundred forty-five pound man with size nine shoes would face a challenge just to live in the house: During waking up and getting his shower, as he would pass by the large vent grates they would clack open and one of his feet would fall through leaving him stuck trying to pull his foot out.  Each morning for breakfast his cupboards stretched so high, all the way up to the fifteen foot tall ceiling, Paul had to pull out a very large step stool to reach his cereal.  Every afternoon as he tried to go from the inside to the outside or back through the cellar, his outside cellar doors would groan from their tremendous weight due to their incredibly large and thick size, and they would at least once a day snap out of Paul's hands as his thin, little arms tried to pull them open or shut.  Then the windows, which like all windows do, hissed letting in a little bit of air, but they were so large, allowing so much air through their sills and jams, it was enough to whistle and howl, and the air chilled poor Paul to the bone.

 

"Way too big..." Paul would complain.

 

It didn't stop there.  Paul had a lover.  His lover was tall, hefty and healthy, with large enough feet, and beautiful hair.  The lover would always smile and giggle whenever Paul would complain that the house was way too big as the lover had no problems with the house at all.  But the lover only added to Paul's problems for when it came to moments of great passion, the lover would snore during and after Paul had worked up an incredible sweat and reached a mighty orgasm, as though Paul hadn't either caressed or entered the lover at all.

 

"Way too big..." Paul would complain about his lover, and he thought often that he would have to end the relationship.

 

And so for years it went on like this.  Every day the vents would clack, the cupboards would streeeeetch, the doors would groooooan and SNAP!, the windows would hissssssss, and his lover would snore, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and Paul would complain, "Way too big...."

 

Finally Paul had enough and one day he decided to schedule an appointment with an outstanding psychiatrist, the local phenomenon, Dr. Wisemann.  On the day of his appointment Paul went into Dr. Wisemann's office, lay down on the couch and said...

 

"Doctor, my house is way too big.  Every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, and my lover snores.  What can I do?"

 

The doctor thought for a moment and said, "Do you have many rooms in your house?"

 

"Yes...."

 

"You must rent one out to a soccer or rugby player."

 

Paul wondered how on earth that would help with his house being too big, but he put an advertisement on rental chat boards and wound up renting one of his rooms out to a very tall and very built rugby player: 6' 10" tall, three hundred and ten pounds, size 24 shoes.

 

However having this rugby player walking around annoyed Paul very much.  It was like having a moveable wall in the house.  Whenever Paul didn't notice him coming, going through a doorway or turning a corner in the hallway, he would run into the rugby player and it actually felt like running into a wall. But the worse thing about it was the rugby players feet, worse if those feet were in his enormous shoes.  Every time the rugby player would walk around the house, his huge dawgs would make a great patting sound that echoed throughout the house.  If in shoes or worse his rugby cleats, the rugby player would clomp.

 

So now, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, and the player clomps.

 

"Way too big...." said Paul and off he went to the visit the psychiatrist, Dr. Wisemann again.

 

"Doctor, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, my lover snores, and the player clomps.  My house and renter are way too big."

 

"You should rent another room out to a basketball player."

 

"Rent a room out to a basketball player?!?"

 

Paul thought this extremely odd but Dr. Wisemann was a professional, so he placed another advertisement on the rental chat board and soon had another room rented to a basketball player who was 7' 4" with a decent athletic build, although no where as big and strong as the rugby player, and had decent sized feet too, although not as big as the rugby player's.

 

Again problems arose.  Even though the basketballer wasn't as built as the rugby player, do to his extreme height he still took up a lot of room in the hallway.  It was still like running into a wall, but a wall that wasn't quite as thick.  Not only that, but no matter where the basketballer sat, his legs seem to stick out several feet from beyond the chair, or couch, or even the bed.  Anytime they were all together, Paul had to jump over the basketballer's legs or trip.  Due to his profession, the basketballer never walked, he always kind of sprinted here and there about the house and so he would create a racket when walking: stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp!

 

And so, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, and the basketballer stomps.

 

"Way too big..." Paul complained of his house and renters.

 

Once more Paul went out to visit Dr. Wisemann, the psychiatrist.

 

"Doctor, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, and the basketballer stomps.  Everything regarding my house is way...too...big!"

 

"You must rent another room out to a bodybuilder."

 

"Rent a room out to a bodybuilder?!?"

 

Paul thought the idea was utter non-sense, but as the man was mental health care professional, he took out another advertisement on a renters' chat board and soon had the room rented to hulking beast of a man: 6' 8" tall, 415 pounds, size 17 shoe.

 

Now things were getting crowded in the house.  If three of them met up in the hallway it became a bit of a squeeze to get through.  Usually Paul wound up in the middle, and no matter which way he turned he'd wind up staring at chest.  This was especially difficult and somewhat humiliating if it was him, the player, and the bodybuilder.  If all four of them met in the hallway it became a game of vertical formed Twister as everyone attempted to turn sideways, step over, or duck under each other.  Worse yet was the basement where the bodybuilder kept his weight system.  Plates of weights were all over the floor, and as poor Paul attempted to make his way to the washing machine and the drier to do laundry, he would trip over the huge 100 pound and 200 pound sized plates.

 

Although, the bodybuilder added to the general din of the house when walking like the rugby player and basketballer did, he actually would make more noise while working out with his weights in the basement.  Paul could hear him all the way up in the attic. The bodybuilder would lift and throw weights around while exercising and they would clank.  While he was lifting, he would grunt.  So soon, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, while the bodybuilder clanks and grunts.

 

"Way too big!"  Paul said in frustration and scheduled another appointment with his mental health doctor.

 

"Dr. Wisemann....every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, and now the bodybuilder clanks and grunts.  Everything is WAY....too.....big!"

 

"You must rent out a room to an herbalist."

 

"What?!?"

 

Paul didn't understand the logic of this, but at least this time it wasn't another athlete.  Perhaps the herbalist could create an herbal remedy to sooth Paul's nerves.  Once again an advertisement was placed and was soon filled by an herbalist of great skill... ... ... ... and also great size: 6' 10",  three hundred and twenty-five pounds, size 18 shoe.

 

But it was becoming very crowded in the house now.  Five men living in the house was bad enough, but they had all their stuff: Paul all the goods for owning and running a house, the rugby player all his uniforms, cleats, balls, and weights; the basketballer with all his uniforms, training shoes, sneakers, and balls; the bodybuilder with all his weights, his posers, his workout clothes, and food and protein supplements overflowing the kitchen pantry, and now there was the herbalist and all his herbs, flowers, oils, and mortar and pestle spilling out of the kitchen cupboards.

 

Although the herbalist could be adding to the noise of the weights due to working out, he added a different noise all together.  Beginning a treatment to try and help Paul calm down and become less stressed, he began to liberally apply a paste to Paul's balding head, his chest, abs, and sparingly to Paul's arms and legs.  However in order to make this paste, as well as other pastes and powders for his customers, he constantly had to grind seeds, leaves, and petals up in the mortar and pestle.  Everyday Paul could hear him grinding and grinding away.

 

It didn't take long until every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, while the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds.

 

"Way too big...." Paul said to himself and off he went again to the psychiatrist's office.

 

"Doctor, I do not believe you are understanding me.  Every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, my lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, while the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds.  Everything in my house and renting space in my house is WAY TOO BIG!"

 

"You must rent one more room to a porn star."

 

"Rent a room to a whom?! A What?!?"

 

Poor, poor Paul was nearly at the end of his wits, but decided to try the doctor's methods one more time.  In a few short hours the advertisement was up and answered and the attic space was now being rented out by a very big, hefty, and hung porn star: 7' tall, three hundred ninety pounds, size 20 shoes, with a cock that was ten inches soft, and 14 inches long by 7 inches thick when erect.

 

The Porn star didn't help the traffic situation in the hallways.  Nor did he help the room situation with all his stuff: tanning creams, lubricant, sex toys, penis pumps, cock rings, herbal remedies for stamina and virility - which the herbalist helped tweak to be even better, of course.  And although he contributed to the density of din that echoed through the house whenever anyone, except Paul, began to walk, the porn star was heard most of the time when alone upstairs in the attic as he was jacking off and jelqing daily, if not hourly, to keep his penis size and learn how to keep it hard, stiff, and throbbing, for hours upon end.  All of this culminated in a loud shout of ecstasy as he blew his load.

 

Eventually, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds, as the star jacks, jelqs, and moans.

 

Paul meditated and tried to figure out why this prescription was being given to him.  He tried to allow it to work.  But things just kept getting worse.  He was getting tired of seeing and talking too chests, then having to strain his head to see eye to eye with his renters.  He had to push and pull to move weights out of the way in order to get to the laundry room.  He had climb the cupboard and reach the top of it in order to get to his food.  He had to kick balls out of his way from room to room or learn how to catch them, or other objects accidentally kicked or knocked over by the behemoth renters before those objects hit the floor or another object and broke.  He began to itch from all the treatments the herbalist was giving him.

 

It got to the point where he spent most of the day moving weights around to get to the laundry, or spent all day climbing and reaching for the top of the cupboard, or kicking balls around the house or yard to get to the garden or the living room, or fighting for space in the hallway.  To pick up after all these brutish men, to wash the dishes after all of these huge, giant, portion meals.  He couldn't even fix himself a meal anymore, they just made extra for him, trying to make up for the mess they'd leave to be cleaned up.  Course this was only worse as it left a huge, heavy pile of dishes to do.

 

Paul called for a meeting, and stared at their necks as he told them off a little, that they needed to help clean up after themselves, put their equipment away.  Try to treat the house like a home and not a pig sty or garbage dump.

 

But things didn't get better.  Paul had to quit his job in order to take care of the house. Still pushing around weights, still climbing and reaching for the top of the cupboard, kicking balls out of the hallway, various rooms, around the yard.  He would wake up to the herbalist making up for lost treatments when Paul wouldn't come see him, by slathering the paste on him at night.  He began to hide, and then take the star's supplements, and then take (and sometimes use) his equipment to stop him from jacking, jelqing, and screaming in ecstasy.  He still was washing large piles of dishes after everyone, including himself sat down to gigantic meals of 2,500 - 3,000 -3,500 calories, each meal, per day!

 

Paul eventually talked to them one day, looking them eye to eye, to make sure they understood, things needed to improve.  But the weights being tossed around in the basement got larger and heavier, and more and more of them appeared.  Poor Paul couldn't get to the laundry room as frequently as he needed, and he need to wash their clothes first to take care of the smell of sweat and musk permeating every room. Ultimately at one point he had to start wearing their clothes as he had none of his own washed, and they were so baggy on him, he rustled around the house in them, holding them up, or using safety pins to make their waist and neck holes tighter.  Not to mention all the sheets and towels the porn star went through after jacking off two, three, four, five, ten, twenty times as day.  The stench from them alone was almost too much to take.

 

A couple of the balls even got bigger and heavier, looking more like they were made of crude white leather, loosely tied around a ball.  His food, letters or packages, and books kept getting placed higher and higher upon the shelves and cupboards.   His shoes disappeared into a sea of boat sized men's shoes, he eventually took to wearing a pair of theirs just to shuffle around the house in to keep his feet from being banged up and bruised, after all the kicking wore out his shoes.  His body was now itching all over from head to toe due to the paste the herbalist kept treating him with and so Paul scratched and scratched.  Paul was getting so made he would storm around the house: thud, Thud, Thud, THUD!

 

Now every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, his lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds, the star jacks, jelqs, and moans, as Paul rustles, shuffles, and thuds about the house.

 

"It's not working everything is way too fucking big!"

 

Paul went to Dr. Wisemann's office in a rage.

 

"WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?!?",  he screamed.  "These renters of mine are driving me nuts.  I can't find my own shoes in the sea of large boats for shoes these men have, so I must come here barefoot!  I can't wash my own clothes as I have to take care of theirs first, and look at this shirt!  I kind of, sort of, fit in it.  It's just slightly too large.  It means it's one of mine, not theirs, as I swim in their clothing.  They've put on and worn and stretched the hell out of it. My own clothing! I'm getting big and fat due to this huge ass meals they eat and serve.  I feel like I'm having a three course dinner for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.  I have to pick up their shoes, their balls, their clothes.  I have to reach, and stretch, and jump, and climb up to get my mail, my books, my food because they, for some reason, always put the average man's stuff on the top shelf or the top of the unit.  I've been pushing and lifting weights around to keep them off the floor.  I've had to eat penis size pills to keep one renter from hunting them down, finding them, taking them, and waking us all up at three in the morning because he's horny and jacking off like a mad man!

 

"I have tried your method but now, every day the vents clack, the cupboards stretch, the doors groan and snap, the windows hiss, my lover snores, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds, the star jacks, jelqs, and moans, while I rustle, shuffle, and thud around the house!  I will say it one time, loudly and clearly so you can properly tell me what to do.  My house and my renters are WAY....TO....FUCKING....BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG!"

 

The psychiatrist sat in stunned silence, somewhat in awe and fear, but finally said, "Go home, release the porn star..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Release the herbalist..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Release the bodybuilder and the basketballer...."

 

"Yes?"

 

"And finally release the rugby player.  Tell them they can't live there anymore and if you have any problems, call the authorities."

 

And so Paul did just that.  He apologized, sternly, as best as he could as he told them all they needed to find a new place to live.  It took a couple of weeks of them finding a place and getting their stuff moved out and in, but eventually Paul had his house all to himself.

 

But some things were accidentally left behind and Paul had to once more set about cleaning up.  He found a pair of the rugby players shoes and moved them off to the side, finally uncovering his shoes he'd been looking for, for so long.  Those shoes, however, no longer fit.  Paul's foot absolutely dwarfed his size 9 tennis shoe.

 

"What the hell?  They must have replaced my shoes with similar ones in a kid's size."

 

Paul shrugged it off and set about getting his clothes washed, but there was part of a weight set, a large part, left behind on the floor of the basement.  Paul began to pick the plates up and stack them along a wall.  Then...he stopped.  It was a two-hundred pounder.  Grant it, he didn't do it with ease, but he didn't pull nor push the plate, he picked it up with both hands - a two hundred pound weight.

 

Paul stared at his hands, and then moved his gaze up to his forearms.  They were huge, they were bulging, they were criss-crossed with throbbing, thick veins that rose up to the top of his skin level.  They were like the arms of Popeye, except as Paul eventually looked at his upper arm, he noticed they weren't out of proportion like Popeye's forearms were.  One of the veins made its way up the arm, traveling over an ample bicep that rose and popped whenever Paul flexed and pushed on it.  The ball of the bicep when flexed rose and mounded, making the veins that ran over its peak squirm and wiggle so the biceps appeared to be as if a family of snakes were living in a bag.

 

Grabbing some of his dirty clothes, Paul took them up to his room and shut the door behind him.  He slowly began to peel and strip off the shirt and pants he had on, only to stop dead in his tracks where he stood. Four things caught his attention.  This first was that as the clothes came off he noticed the hair on his legs and arms was much thicker and feather like than ever before.  Not only that but hair was going from his groin, up his abs and obliques,  and over his chest.  He had to do a little bit of a double take when noticing this because he realized in order to look closer at what he thought he glimpsed, he needed to brush his hair out from in front of his eyes.  Paul was now a full-fledged bear with thick mane of head hair.  The third thing he noticed was he wasn't wearing his own underwear but a pair, clean pair, from one of his renters.  How was he able to wear these without them looking baggy.  Not only that but as he stood there looking at the underwear, his crotch suddenly filled out and filled out more and more and more!  His balls began to swell and inflate, hanging heavier and lower, while his cock began oozing out from his groin area getting longer and longer and longer and thicker!  Soon the pouch of the underwear hung low and pulled the waistband down and out from Paul's body.

 

Paul couldn't believe what he was seeing.  What was happening?   He attempted to put his clothes on, but soon found out that was an impossibility.  The legs of his jeans were too short for his legs.  Extremely too short!  Not to mention his package was too big for him to close the zipper, and even if he could do that, although his abs were tight, taut, and looked like a washboard, he had grown tall enough the waistband wouldn't fit.  The same thing had happened to his shirt.  While pulling it on, down over his head, shoulders, and chest, he discovered the hem only came down to slightly on or over his belly button.  As he pulled that shirt down his back and shoulders began to rip out the back, while his chest caused a tear down the front, and his delts, not his arms, for the shirt was too short and small to reach them, began to split the sleeves.

 

Hearing all these pops and rips, Paul turned, spun, and waddled around trying to find the cause, but this caused his thigh and calve muscles to flex and bulge and they began to blow the seam of his jeans, ripping down from hip to knee.

 

"What has happened...."

 

Paul didn't want to finish the thought.  He had to get to a medical doctor and get their fast.  He put on the clothes he was wearing before, realizing they weren't his stretched out, but had actually been something from one of his  renters.  He walked out of his bedroom, the bottom of the door frame tussling his new thick head of hair as he left.  In the living room he grabbed the rugby player's cleats.

 

"These will have to do"

 

Sockless, he put on the cleats and then thought about where he should go.

 

"This hospital is closer, but that hospital has better doctors, and they have a specialist in AUUUGH!"

 

Suddenly Paul was racked with pain.  His bones had knives running through them.  His muscles were on fire.  His skin itched.  His balls swelled.  His cock oozed.  Suddenly the room was full of all sorts of noise: the sounds of breaking bone, swelling muscles, stretching skin, tearing fabric, snapping bands, popping buttons and laces.  Paul was growing and growing quickly.

 

Thinking to try and clear his head of the pain, Paul realized that over the course of his renters stay, he had been eating more, pushing and pulling on the plates every day, and had even begun picking them up.  His foot had thickened and lengthened from all the ball kicking and his hands had done the same from catching items and handling the plates.  He had grown up too.  He was no longer looking up at them, but eye to eye with many of them.  Somehow, someway he had been growing all this time.  Living with a big footed rugby player, a  long, tall basketballer, a huge developed and strong bodybuilder, and hung porn star, was making his body grow and grow.  The herbalist's pastes had actually done their work and Paul was becoming hairy.

 

Looking at his reflection in a cabinet door, Paul could see the hair come in across his sharpening cheek and jaw lines forming a wonderful two day stubble kind of look.  The hair on top of his head grew out longer and longer until he had shoulder length hair that just lightly touched his shoulders.  That's when he began to feel the clothes...his renters' clothes become tight on him.

 

Moaning, Paul watched as the shirt on him kept shrinking and shrinking in size getting a bit smaller in length and extremely tight in depth and width.  His neck grew up and out and out forming this huge massive marble like column that snapped the collar of the shirt.  His traps and deltoids kept mounding up higher and higher like some vast mountain range and began to split the top of the shirt wide open. The ballooning delts that were getting rounder and fuller, larger, thicker, were joined by the upper arm with its biceps rising higher and thicker into a mountain top peak while the triceps rose high and full forming that horseshoe or crab claw shape.  Together they snapped the band of the sleeve and split it straight up to the shoulders.  Next his back, shoulders, and lats were growing wider and wider, while his lats also became impossibly thicker and thicker.  Paul's lats were forming wings, a hood, that nearly made him look as wide as he was tall.  All of this splitting the seams under the arms and the fabric down the sides as well as ripping out the back of the shirt.  Finally came Paul' chest rising, widening, mounding, rolling, barreling, swelling, thickening, broadening, until the giant pec shelf was sticking out a good number of inches from the rest of the torso and began splitting the shirt down the front.

 

The pair of jeans fared no better as the calves bunched and grew, swelling and ballooning into great pairs of diamonds, hearts which snapped the pants leg's hems as they attempted to rise up and up the Paul's legs.  Paul's thighs grew as well becoming insanely thick and defined, showing ridges and crevices of three tear drops, and a bulging back thigh biceps with bowstring taut hamstring.  The thighs and the claves made short work of the side seams of the jeans, pulling them apart and ripping them to shreds.  They worked together with Paul's ass that began to swell and grow as well, rounding firmer, harder, until they began to look like the giant globes of medicine balls that Paul had started kicking around before he sent his renters packing.  His gluteus maximus blew out the seat of these jeans in no time flat.

 

While his inflating muscles and growing body made short work of the borrowed pants and shirt he was wearing, Paul's feet were responding as well and had begun their own growth spurt becoming wider, thicker, meatier, longer.  Stretching out and over the sole of the shoe, they grew and grew causing the sides of the shoe fabric to tear and rip, the front tops of the shoes to become form fitting over their toes, their arch to push on the tongue and laces of the shoe, causing them to snap and pull apart.  In almost no time Paul's growing dawgs made short, short work of the once huge pair of cleats.

 

Then the zipper of the jeans pulled apart and the opening kept getting wider and wider.  Snaps and pops and rips were being heard as the bulge that is referred to as "the package" kept growing bigger, fuller, larger.  It kept swelling, protruding out from the groin area more and more.  Paul was beginning to cry small tear drops as the pain that developed from his balls being crushed by the confining pants and underwear crotch and his growing manhood of a prick.  Eventually the snap of the crotches was heard and from under the loose fabric created, Paul's balls hung out low, heavy, and weight like, while his cock fell out and hung heavy, long, and pendulous.

 

The waistband of the jeans, although the button having popped and the zipper being pulled open widely were all that kept the raggedy-taggedy pieces of jeans and underwear attached to Paul's Herculean type body.

 

When the swelling and pain stopped, Paul walked and looked at himself in the reflection of a hallway mirror.  He was huge.  He was gigantic.  He was monstrously built.  He was impossibly hung!  Suddenly the realization came over him:

 

"I've... I've outgrown...their...clothes.  Their clothes.  Not mine.  I've out grown their clothes.  I'VE OUTGROWN THEIR CLOTHES!"

 

 Turning to walk into his bedroom, Paul was stopped cold by his own house.  He was too broad in the chest, let alone shoulders and back to simply walk through his door.  He was too tall to do so as well.  His shoulder tops is what matched the top of the doorframe, his head looking and bumping straight into the upper wall.

 

Dipping, ducking, and turning, he made his way into his bedroom, brushing off some plaster crumbles from off his chest and out of his head and chest hair.  Turning towards his bedroom mirror he began to do several bodybuilding poses, grunting and screaming while making them.

 

Double bi.

 

"OH YEAH!"

 

Frontal lat spread

 

"SHIT YEAH!"

 

Side chest

 

"HOLY FUCK!"

 

Side Triceps

 

"FRIGGIN SICK!"

 

Abdominals and thighs

 

"YEAH! WHOOOSE BIG!?"

 

Most muscular - crab shot.

 

"GRRRRRRRRR FUCKIN' HULK!"

 

Victory pose.

 

"I'M BIGGER THAN THEY WERE!  BIGGER THAN THEM!"

 

And as Paul performed pose after pose after pose,  His flaccid cock began to lurch forward and swell, lengthen and stiffen, harden and rise, growing....growing....growing....  Paul began to watch it grow erect and began to feel the pull of its weight despite it being able to raise up on its own.  The engorged fat head finally rose to its maximum height, the prick to its maximum length: 18 inches in length  about to the top of the abs the row above the navel.   Immediately Paul grabbed a hold of his cock with both hands and began to work his tool feverishly.  He decided after some time that he needed assistance and so sought out the fleshlight he hid from the porn star that was his renter.   He put it on and could only get it down just a little more than half way of his super-shaft.

 

"OH FUCK!"

 

The sight of this, in the mirror of course as Paul's pecs blocked a downward view of his enormous schlong, made Paul reach climax much sooner that he usually would, but it didn't matter.  For the now, he would rock back onto his giant feet, after he fell to his knees, having an extreme orgasm shooting a superfluous amount of spoo across the room. An amount of which usually took three to four men to generate.

 

Paul came to his senses and went to the bathroom to shower.  The shower curtain rod hit him  just below his chest.  So, too, did the shower head.  Going to the kitchen to get something to eat, he could easily grab things off the top shelves.  In fact a few more inches he would see over the top of some shelves.  Paul laughed.

 

 Navigating the steps down to the basement was too short and narrow, so he took a risk, walking outside nude and going in through the cellar doors.  They pulled up and over quickly, lightly, and with just barely a groan.  Paul laughed.

 

Grabbing some of their clothing, Paul took it inside and tried some of them on.  Usually they only partially survived,  ripping here and tearing there, but a couple of shirts and pants managed to stay intact, although no matter what their size or material was, they looked like undersized under-armor that was painted onto Paul.

 

Walking back down to the kitchen, he went to grab some food and found he could more than easily do so.  His head was almost at the top of the cupboards, as in almost being able to see the top of the cupboards.  Naturally this meant that his arms and hands could easily reach the top of the cupboards.  He stood nearly a couple feet taller than refrigerator.  Sitting down in the living room to eat he discovered that his feet were extended by his legs longer, farther than what the basketballer had done.  Paul was so thrilled, so turned on by his size, so horny.  He called his lover right away and asked his lover to come over.

 

When his lover got there, the lover was shocked, surprised, and even a bit terrified at Paul's new size...new size everywhere!  They made love, almost against his lover's wishes, and this time the lover did more than snooze, the lover stayed awake, alert, and screamed in ecstasy, "OH GAWD!"

 

Paul got up after making love and walked around the house nude.   First he walked to the master suite bathroom and his foot didn't fall through the vent grate, it practically covered it up! He stood in front of the large windows  not only feeling the air current that leaked through the windows, but he opened the windows up and felt the full on breeze attempt to caress his body only to be dissipated by his manly hair on his body. The house wasn't too big.  HE was too big, and he laughed in excitement and pride over this fact. 

 

But now the house seemed a bit too quiet.  Despite some of the problems he really had begun to be good friends with his renters.  Now Paul wondered what they would think of his new size?  So he called them all up, apologized and invited them over for a party.  They truly were amazed and in awe of Paul's new size.  His feet were bigger than the rugby player.  He stood half a head taller than the basketballer.  He was proportionately bigger built and stronger than the bodybuilder.  The herbalist couldn't believe how gorgeous his hair was or how hairy Paul had become.  The porn star marveled at how much more hung Paul was than him.

 

Despite Paul having kicked them out, they all decided to rent the rooms from Paul again.  Which worked out well for Paul since he had quit his job and at his current size probably wouldn't fit well in most chairs, offices, and buildings.  And there was something about them all being together with Paul.  Being surrounded by big men had an effect on him.  Paul began to notice that every morning his body seemed to make noise.  His skin made a stretching noise.  His bones made a breaking noise.  His muscles swelled like a balloon.  His clothes became a little shorter and a bit smaller.  Paul smiled.

 

Now every day the vents clack, the cupboards shrink, the doors wine and snap off, the windows bellow a breeze, his lover screams, the player clomps, the basketballer stomps, the bodybuilder clanks and grunts, the herbalist grinds, grinds, grinds, the star jacks, jelqs, and moans, and Paul's body makes a stretching noise, a breaking noise, and he swells - everywhere- like a balloon.  When his renters hear that they shake their heads, smile and nod at one another and say...

 

"Paul is growing again.  Paul is way too big!"

 

To which Paul replies, as he hulks out of yet another set of clothes, "No such thing as way...too...big!"

 

And to tell the truth, as the renters all come to his room after they hear the final rips of clothing, they worship him in awe...and agree.

[GiganticBeast]

FUCK yes ok, first off I gotta get all poetic here but this was a beautiful story, the imagery and prose just seemed to be so melodic, so fantastic for painting every single scene! The frustration of Paul getting more and more out of hand until the fantastic reveal, it was beautiful to read! Now to beastly stuff god DAMN it was hot, the fucking GROWTH as always was so well done man, and I just..i love it! Thanks man! You are, as always a fucking legend!!

[Omiganda]

Ugh, youre just a fountain of creativity

[convolution]

A wonderfully oversized beautifully fractured fable ☺

[Hanugumo]

A wonderful rework. ^^

It kinda reminds me of a fairy tale i used to read when I was little. It was rather similar. ^^ Though the story went with the narrator not happy with his life; finding a wishing well/fountain; making a wish; enjoyibg the wish the day after; soon after he realized that people he loved or loved him were so different than he knew them to be tgst he did not like the new workd anymore; he made a wish at the wishing well/fountain but it didn't come true; he learned the moral of the story (which was that you should be happy with what you had, and not complain about what could have been if you nade a different decision in the past or was someone different) and only than the wish worked and he returned the world to normal and he lived happily and contented for the rest of his life. 

I do not rememver the name of the fairy tale but thus story definitely reminds me of it. ^w^  <3 <3 Thx for that.

 

I do wonder how big Pail will end up becoming though. >;3 Or will he become a litteral god and be able to float through space with his friends living on him as he grows infinitely? >;3

[boy2beast]

Great story! Thanks for sharing!

[FREaky]

Thank you, GB. Appreciate your praise as always. (blush)

Omiganda, yes, lol.  I guess I am.  I've got a whole page saved of various ideas for stories.  I think I've still got about twenty-thirty or so back logged.

Thank you, Convolution.

Hanugumo, thank you very much.  The story I kind of based it off of was "Too Much Noise."  I'm not sure how big Paul will become.  I'll let the readers decide that in their own minds.  Sometimes it's best to leave stories with just enough hanging.  Btw I have ideas to rework to other children's classics.

Boy2beat, thank you, and you're welcome.  I have fun writing my stories and enjoy sharing them.  It's always interesting to see who enjoys what kind of plot line or discover yet another friend who likes a particular fetish. 

[buffdragon77]

Awesome story!  I immediately thought of this comic when I read it lol

[FREaky]

Buffdragpn77, love that comic!  I can see why you thought of it.

[southmonster]

I really enjoy the children's story/oral storyteller style. Very well done! I look forward to more adaptations in the future.