Figurines: The next generation

by squatch

A new subject is gifted the incredible bracelets, only to find unexpected changes.

1,679 words Added May 2023 9,972 views 4.5 stars (13 votes)

Cock Growth

Plausible Size Difference

Nonconsensual change

Body Swap

M/F

squatch

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Author’s Note

This story is a continuation of the “Figurines” storyline by RdyRoger.

Part 1

I needed to change me. I needed to change my body. About to turn 34 at 5’6” and way over 200 pounds, I was not living my best life. I told myself this year was going to be different.

Against my better judgement, I decided to start going to this gym near my house. It wasn’t just another Planet Fitness, it was a gym this couple of body builders started a few years ago. They were huge—both looked like figures I had as a kid, just taller and more muscular (if that’s even possible).

The owners seemed to take a personal interest in me; I was unlike most clients at their gym, and they seemed to make me their project. Honestly, I have no idea why they would care about me, but they offered to be my coaches and help me gain some muscle, and hopefully, lose some weight. But, after 4 months of lifting, I barely made a dent in my weight, and had minimal muscle growth. Besides these muscle beasts that worked with me, there was this other guy at the gym I truly admired. Brandon was a few years older than me but looked a decade younger with the body I always dreamed of. He stood 6’6”, massive upper body, cut, handsome, hairy (but he saved clean—everywhere), giant feet and hands. And from watching him from the corner of my eye in the showers, he was packing a huge dick and balls.

The guys caught me staring at him one day. “So,” Z said with a smile, “You like Brandon over there?”

“Yes…well… I wish I looked like him. Even if I lost this weight and ever gained muscle, I’m still short as fuck.”

With a smile, Z asked, “Well, what would you be willing to do to have a body like his?”

“I would literally kill for his body. Say the word—swear to God—I would do anything do look like him, to have his body.”

About a week later, I was working out with Z again, when he invited Brandon over to join us. “Fuck fuck fuck, Z, what are you fucking doing?” I said under my breath as Brandon walked over. As Brandon approached, a warm, handsome smile formed on his face. As the giant towered over me, he offered a giant mitt and we shook hands; he almost broke my hand. Z introduced us and told Brandon how much I admired his body and wondered if he would help train me and share his routine.

Months passed, and I only gained modest definition, despite Brandon’s coaching. After one particularly miserable day, he invited me over to help go through my meal planning and diet. The night before, Z had shown up at the gym, handing me some two random small boxes. He told me to give these to Brandon as a ‘thank you gift’ and to call me if I had questions. They were sealed up tight with packing tape so I just asked what was in them. Z told me they were just a muscle T with the gym logo and a few gift cards to Brandon’s favorite vitamin shop.

When I arrived at Brandon’s house, he welcomed me with a warm smile. I handed him the boxes as we sat down on opposite couches. He opened the first, and to my surprise, it wasn’t a muscle T, but brown leather bracelets with brass buckles and studs. They definitely fit his style and he put them on right away. I wasn’t sure what to say except ‘you’re welcome.’

He opened the second and found a figurine that looked like his small toy dog. As he picked it up out the box, something extremely fucking weird happened. Brandon was suddenly gone except his clothes, and his dog sat where he was previously sitting a second ago. The dog seemed as freaked out as I was.

I immediately called Z.

“Bro! Bro!” he said as he interrupted my rapid ramblings. “Okay, first—take a deep breath, we can figure this out. Maybe somethings weird with the bracelets. Try putting them on yourself. Okay? Next, is there anything in the pile of Brandon’s clothes to give you a clue of what happened?”

I rummaged through the giant’s pile of belongings on the couch, and I found what appeared to be a naked figure of Brandon, made out of something hard like ceramic. I wanted to take a closer look and so I picked it up.

I felt like I was going to pass out as the room spun around me. Was the room getting smaller or was I getting bigger? Power surged through me as I seemed to expand, my legs growing longer and thickening to the size of tree trunks. My dick was growing impossibly huge, larger than it was ever erect but still soft. Rock hard cobblestone abs started forming out of nowhere as my pecs jut out from my widening chest. Bi’s and tri’s exploded out of me. Ink started to sprout across my forearm. My hands grew to the size of a giant’s as the figurine shrank to something that looked like me, or at least what I used to look like. I felt it fall and crash on the ground, breaking.

As quickly as it started, it was over. Having been bent over for the change, I stood up to a height I had never experienced before. Okay, maybe on a ladder, but I could feel my bare feet on the cold stone floor. I heard Z yelling through the phone; I must have dropped it. I bend down to pick it up. Fuck, did my phone shrink?

I put it on speaker and heard Z tell me to find a mirror. I went over to the full length mirror on the wall and could not believe my eyes.

Staring back at me was Brandon. As I turned around expecting to see him, nothing was there. I turned back; as I moved, Brandon moved.

“Holy….fuck,” I said in Brandon’s deep baritone. I couldn’t believe the sight in front of me, nor the sexy voice now in my command.

“Congrats, Brandon!” I heard Z say over the phone, “How do you like your new body?”

I felt my new stubble and struck a double bicep pose. “It’s fucking spectacular! I feel so fucking powerful!!” I yelled, my baritone booming in the once-huge room. I felt something tugging hard at my groin—I looked down and saw that I was rock hard. My penis, once 5 inches (on a good day), was now 10.5” inches long!!

I gave it a pump and felt electricity shoot up and down my body. Fuck, this giant beast was sensitive! I told Z I had to go.

“Call me back when you get a cha—” I heard Z say as I ended the call. I went back to the mirror and kept looking in at awe at the body I now command. I just could not stop looking at my new dick.

I ran to find a scale. As I stepped on and looked down, I realized just how fucking huge my feet were. I could barely stand on this thing, with my toes and heels spilling over the front and back. I moved my monster feel and saqw the number—273 pounds of pure, hard muscle. I stepped off the scale. With a smile, I closed my new eyes and took a deep, satisfying breath. Damn, I felt massive.

It was with this breath that I got my first whiff of my new musk. I lifted my impeccable arm and deeply inhaled the smell of my armpit. Fuck, it smelled good—woody, strong, and fresh. I smelled like a real fucking man if there ever was one.

I needed to see how this body looked dressed. I found the pile of clothes left from the original owner of this body. I lifted it up and smelled deeply—yup, smelled like this muscle god I now inhabited. I struggled to fit my horse cock into XXL compression shorts that left nothing to the imagination. I wrenched up short workout shorts and fought to get the XXXL work-out tee over my mountains of pecs. Lastly, I strained to get XL NBA-branded dark blue socks over my massive feet. I lifted up his… I mean, my shoes to see the size. 17W! Are you fucking kidding me? I had feet bigger than most NBA players! I squeezed into this behemoth shoes, only to decide I should probably go up a size.

I stood back up, shooting a full foot past my previous height, and walked back over to the mirror. God damn! These clothes were about to burst at the seams.

That’s when I heard faint doorbell chimes, bring me back to reality. I tried to ignore it, still admiring myself in the mirror, but it got more aggressive.

I went back to the front of the place and bent down to open the door. Standing in front of me was a beautiful, big breasted woman about 20 years old, smiling and looking me up and down.

“Damn, daddy!” I heard her exclaim with a smile. “You look extra big today!” She walked up toward me and pulled my shirt, hauling me down, and our lips met. Pleasure ran up and down my body and I felt the monster in my shorts coming alive as she began to rub it through my clothes.

She broke our kiss and swished past me into Brandon’s place, while I just stood there, huge, muscled, and stunned.