Size matters

by BigManBigBelly   

An earnest and passionate top’s deficit leaves his bottom hook-up frustrated, but when the bottom lets slip his desire for more size, his wish comes true with ironic consequences. The word ‘grow’ becomes very triggering for him.

Darren swiped right and a notification appeared that there was a match. He sent a casual ‘how’s it goin, man’ and the conversation blossomed from there. The guy’s name was Ted and he was just Darren’s type. Dark hair, pale eyes, strong features, thick muscles, furry chest. He was also funny, quick-witted, intelligent and seemingly kind. Just as importantly, he was an exclusive top and Darren was exclusively a bottom.

Darren, on the other hand, was Ted’s dream too. Dark, rusty hair and scruff, green eyes, plump lips, adorable face, athletic body with a big, round ass. Sarcastic, charismatic, creative, spontaneous. They spoke every day from morning until night for a week before the pair found time to meet up for a drink.

When Darren arrived first at the bar, he found a comfortable booth seat where they could have some privacy and be able to hear each other talk. Ted walked in soon after, spotting Darren with a smile lighting up his face and a wave, and sped over to the table. As Ted approached, he was just as gorgeous as his pictures, if not better, but something alarming was becoming clearer to Darren. Only a couple feet apart now, Darren slowly stood to give Ted a hug, wincing as his suspicion came true.

At 5’10”, Darren was of fairly average, if not slightly tall, height. It had been a problem for guys before, not wanting to be shorter than the guy they were topping. But when Darren stood at that moment, Ted was beaming with an excited and incredibly lustful expression. He had to look up to maintain eye contact for this, as Ted’s head only reached Darren’s shoulders. This was the problem with that dating app; it didn’t list body specs.

He wanted it to work. The pair had shared such great chemistry and the sexual tension was palpable. Sitting down, Ted’s height was not apparent. Just his beautiful face and affable personality. They shared dinner and conversation and, when Ted asked Darren back to his apartment afterwards, Darren obliged the invitation. Lying in bed on their sides, tonguing and groping, Darren felt Ted’s toes brushing against the top of his shins. He put it out of mind and the two stripped down before Ted pinned Darren back and lifted his legs over his shoulders.

The second problem with the app through which they’d been messaging—no swapping dick pics, only profile pictures. Ted’s tongue was like magic on his hole, his fingering game was unreal, but when Darren reached a hand down to stroke Ted’s cock and guide it toward his eager hole, his hand completely eclipsed Ted’s stiff erection. Ted entered him and gripped him tightly, pinning Darren’s legs down toward the bed and kissing passionately. Ted bucked his hips, attempting to the point of profuse swearing to give Darren a good fucking. All the while, Darren’s prostate went unstimulated and Ted’s cock continuously fell out with every other thrust. Darren’s firm, ample, impressively round ass didn’t help matters.

Fifteen unsatisfied minutes on his back, someone else’s sweat dripping down his chest and stomach, Darren remained flaccid and increasingly irritated. In a moment of frustration, he forgot himself and blurted out something rather rude.

“C’mon! Can’t you make it grow, or something?!”

The anger in his face flickered immediately into apology and embarrassment. Ted’s, however, slowly melted into a flat, emotionless expression. Then a small smile sprouted, eyes unwavering, silent for a while before he responded.

“As a matter of fact, I can. Wait here.”

Darren waited uncomfortably, letting his legs fall and feet flat to the bed until Ted re-emerged wearing an enormous, ten inch cock extender. Darren’s eyes widened, drool leaking down the corner of his mouth while his legs slowly rose back up, eyes locked with Ted. Ted approached, climbed on top again and shoved himself, hard, into Darren, who whimpered, whined and then moaned with ecstasy. Combined with Ted’s vigor and technique, the massive new length and girth sent Darren for a wild ride, the best he’d ever had. The two fucked in several positions for nearly an hour, ending when Ted, legs wrapped around Darren’s hips from beneath him, both on their backs, thrust hard one last time and a huge stream of cum shot out like a fountain from Darren’s cock. Darren’s whole body shuddered and writhed in pleasure as more ropes rocketed out, toes clenching the sheets, hands gripping tightly around Ted’s forearms. Ted grunted next and the two collapsed to catch their breath.

As Darren climbed up and over to stand off from the bed, he expected to feel Ted slither out of him, but instead a small carrot-sized rod quickly fell out. He turned and saw Ted’s small cock, then furled his eyebrows in confusion. He felt nothing inside of himself but reached a couple fingers in to check and found nothing. His attempts to find an answer went unmet as Ted rose, threw clothes into Darren’s arms and ushered the young man out the door of his apartment, still completely naked and now both confused and embarrassed. While the door was closing, Darren stuck out his hand and asked Ted what was going on, to which Ted replied.

“Don’t worry, you’ll grow to love it.”

The door slammed and immediately Darren felt odd all across his body. As if unaware of the length of his own feet, he turned and stubbed his toe on the door trim. He then hurriedly redressed in the hall before continuing to the stairs to leave. First his briefs, which seemed to cup his plump cheeks more than usual, outlining his cock in full detail. Then his jeans, which were suddenly a struggle to pass over his thighs, sucking in and wiggling about to button them and feeling his legs being constricted. Next his tee-shirt, which hugged his muscled pecs and stuck into his armpits, the ripples of his abdomen showing slightly through the material. He slipped his feet into the sandals he had worn and his toes hung over the front, half an inch, the straps dug a bit into the fleshy sides of his feet. Puzzled, and wondering how he hadn’t noticed his clothes were too small on him, he raced home.

That night, back at his own apartment, Darren stood, wearing a looser tank top and soccer shorts, with a pair of slippers, brushing his teeth at the sink. The door into the master bedroom was left open and he was half-listening as the news droned on from the other room. The weather report was being delivered, and a storm seemed to be rolling into the area soon, according to the meteorologist.

“A low pressure system may give rise to winds that will continue, overnight, to grow.”

Grunting and feeling funny again, Darren dropped the toothbrush into the sink and looked down. The seams of his slippers were stretched and specks of flesh could be seen between the gaps, while the material elsewhere was at it’s limit outlining every peak and valley of his toes and feet. His eyes travelled up and, in the mirror, he spotted his soccer shorts, now having retreated high and tight up his thighs, exposing his tan line. He turned and saw his ass cheeks filling the shorts, rubbing uncomfortably as he moved. Next his tank top, clinging tight to his torso, had risen and exposed where the trail of hair down the center of his belly reached his navel. Alerted now that something was up, anxiety starting, he blamed the drinks, and again his dryer, before spitting out toothpaste and climbing swiftly into bed for the night.

The alarm sounded and Darren stirred groggily from his sleep, before hopping in the shower for work. Denial playing a strong part, he ignored it when he bumped into the shower head or when he failed to clear the threshold of the shower door in time and stubbed his toes again. He paid no mind when he had to bend down more than usual to grab a comb and toothbrush from the drawer or the change in perspective when staring in the mirror. When the first pair of suit pants didn’t fit, he tried on another and settled on a once-loose pair that fit snuggly and ended above his ankles, which were covered by dress socks anyway. He stuffed his feet into dress shoes and tried on a few shirts until he found one that would work. Then he headed into the office and into a meeting with his team and a couple of the higher-ups.

He sat, fidgeting in his seat, pulling out wedgies and adjusting his shirt repeatedly, trying to avoid popping off any buttons where the cloth was pulled tight. He untied his shoelaces to release some pressure beneath the conference table, feet still suffocating all the same. He gripped his pencil to jot down a note and snapped it in two, blushing and avoiding the others’ eye contact before gingerly grabbing another. While he struggled and sat inside his own head, his boss droned on in front of a presentation.

“We’ve had steady business over the past fiscal year, but with the addition of the Suites campaign, quarterly projections are expected to grow—”

Bright red, Darren tried his best to pretend he didn’t notice while his co-workers all stopped and stared in his direction. Below the table, he felt a sudden breeze on his skin after his toes had burst through his socks and the fronts of his shoes, now resting, longer and thicker, on the carpet. His boxer briefs resembled a thong up his ass crack and could be seen through the tear that formed along the inseam of his pants. The top four buttons from his shirt were scattered on the table or floor, his undershirt stretched out and the seam under the pits of his button-down torn open. His belt buckle bent and the leather groaned, digging into his waist and threatening to snap at any moment. His sleeves were nearly up to his elbows at the cuff and his pants legs fraying, trying to fit around his mid-calves.

His boss slowly began speaking again, asking Darren if he felt capable of handling the account on his own before pausing and questioning if he’d been working out lately. Darren stuttered out a response of reassurance, glossing over the question and waiting until everyone dispersed to scoop up his things and make a hasty retreat. His mug and his notebook felt notably small, like toys in his hands as he booked it out. He managed to avoid most of his co-workers on his way to the elevator, raising eyebrows from those who caught a glimpse. Two floors down, Ken from accounting stepped in, did a double-take and then stood next to Darren. Both in silence, Ken darted wide eyes over and soaked in Darren’s new size and torn up, undersized clothes and shoes before both departed, without a word, into the lobby and out to the parking lot.

Darren side-stepped, hunched over, from his sedan after pulling into the parking lot of his apartment, looking like a clown. He hurried inside and raced through thoughts of what could be happening to him. He tugged hard to pull off the ruined shoes, ripped open the rest of the buttons from his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He struggled to undo the belt in its condition, and in frustration, pushed his belly out hard, snapping the leather and sending it snaking across the room.

After bumping his head a couple times, Darren made sure to duck through his doorways as he paced the apartment thinking. Finally, he sighed deeply and flopped back onto his king-sized bed, causing a loud thud and the frame to shake, big feet hanging over the edge. His mind went to last night, the odd encounter with Ted, the disappearing cock toy. He ran through the evening and then muttered aloud,

“Don’t worry, you’ll grow to love it.”

What remained of his clothes were torn to shreds as Darren ballooned and rapidly expanded. His enormous feet struck the floor as his knees reached the bed’s edge and his head bumped the headboard. With the sudden force, his bed frame creaked and then snapped, sending him crashing to the floor. He cautiously stood, careful not to scrape the top of his head on the nine-foot ceilings. He made his way to the bathroom and stared into the mirror, with only his chin and jaw visible of his face. In his nakedness, he took in the sight of his newly grown form. Thick slabs of beefy muscle coursed across his entire frame. A meaty and now seemingly uncut cock with grapefruit balls snaked down menacingly toward the middle of a tree trunk thigh. His feet were over 18 inches long, wide and flat with beefy soles and long toes. His hands, too, were large and strong, running them over his skin and groping the new flesh. When he stepped on the scale, it read over 360lbs where it read 160 the day before.

Darren used up a tub of Crisco, on his back on the floor, giant feet over his shoulders, trying frantically to pull the dildo from last night out of his ass, but despite a new record for fisting himself, there was nothing to find. He hurried into the bedroom and rummaged through his closet looking for anything that might cover him. A once-baggy pair of grey sweatpants that draped down his feet now clung like tightly-fitted shorts that outlined the rugged topography of muscled thighs. After his feet burst through three pairs of knee-high socks, the fourth pair was successfully donned, appearing as stretched-out ankle socks. An over-sized, pullover hoodie from high school was now a crop top clung tightly around a mighty chest. None of his shoes stood a chance, so he scrambled, as he was, to the front door and grabbed his keys so he could cram into his car and drive to the hospital.

On the other side of the door, his neighbor Greg was walking by on his way to the staircase. He was chatting loudly on his phone to a friend about his balcony garden.

“Yeah, they came out great. I’ve been adding them to everything I cook. I’ve been wanting to grow peppers for a while now.”

Greg recoiled and dropped his phone at the loud thundering crash coming from inside Darren’s apartment. He grabbed his phone from the floor and scurried up the stairs. Inside, Darren was sprawled out on his ass, clothes in pieces on the floor, head reaching up to the ceiling, leaning back on two giant hands. His feet rose up higher than the couch, which they had bowled over as they grew with his legs, slamming the furniture into the wall across the room. One of his hands, sprouting larger and jettisoning from arms that grew like meaty bean stalks, slammed into the TV and entertainment center, pulverizing them into the corner.

Darren looked around, panicked, soaking in his gigantic and freakishly muscular body. He spotted his phone flung across the floor from earlier and tried to pick it up. His fingers were far too large for the touchscreen so he used voice commands to enter the app where he was messaging Ted and used the voice dictation to place a call, which was answered within the first few rings.

“Hey big guy, how’s it g—-oin? Hahah”

“Ted, please, I need help! What did you put inside of me? What’s happening to my body? I can’t keep gr—fuck, getting bigger like this. I’m already too big for my apartment. I’m about to break through the ceiling!”

“Reallllyy… That’s awful! A big man like you doesn’t need any additional size, right? You were already so impressive as you were. Why on Earth would anyone feel the need to make you… Grow?”

Darren managed to scream out, “Nooo!” before feeling his whole body tremble, stretch and grow… Meanwhile, Darren’s upstairs neighbor, Greg, was unwinding after a long day at work. Mid-thirties, thick scruff, muscled and slightly chubby, tall dad-bod. He walked, stark naked, towel over one shoulder, scratching his belly and plopping down large, tired feet toward the bathroom. Warm water flowing and bubbles rising, he eased himself, with a tremendous sigh, into a garden tub big enough to fit his impressive size. When the bubbles reached his furry pecs, he tensed and untensed his muscles, slowly opened his eyes and then screamed, high-pitched like a little girl as Darren’s expanding head, shoulders, chest and upper arms crashed through the floor of Greg’s living room, bedroom and half the bathroom.

Darren flailed and his fist broke through the ceiling too, slanting the floor beneath the tub and sending Greg down a slope like he was riding in a sleigh. The tub bounced off Darren’s ballooning pecs and as Greg went flying, Darren caught him in one hand, before they made panicked eye contact with one another. Then the phone rang out from below the two of them.

“Oh God, I didn’t make you grow again, did I? If you grow now, you’ll burst through you’re whole apartment building! How much did you grow so far? Did your feet grow? Did your hands grow? Did your ass grow? Did your cock grow? Did all your muscles grow?!”

Darren felt funny all over, pleading pointlessly with Ted to stop, even as he grew out of earshot. His feet, long, plump and fleshy, grew until his toes reached the ceiling. They launched out the exterior wall as his legs grew longer and thicker. Greg looked smaller and smaller inside Darren’s palm as he grew into a giant. His ass cheeks each grew larger than his living room as his weight finally brought the whole building down. He released Greg safely to the ground before standing and watching the ground grow further and further away.

30 feet, 40 feet, 50 feet tall before Darren stopped growing, towering over all the nearby buildings, muscles looking proportionately larger than any bodybuilder he had ever seen. Meanwhile his feet had grown disproportionately large, even compared to his enormous stature, as had his girthy cock. With every bit he grew, his cock expanded longer, thicker and more erect. As he stood there, mortified, frightened and frantic, his cock was at full mass, throbbing, leaking and aching for release, the head reaching as high up as his chest with it’s impressive length.

In the next lot, a crowd of construction workers were assembled, mouths agape and staring horrified, as Darren burst through his building and grew several stories tall. They cried out, the lot of them.

“Are you seeing this guy grow?”

“How did he grow so big?”

“How much more could he grow?”

One after another, they yelled out the trigger word that activated Darren’s curse. He begged, pleaded, whimpered and moaned as his body expanded and grew to unbelievable size. His feet were bigger than a bus, then several times as big, eventually growing so large that the men below him stood and stared upward, completely outsized by even Darren’s pinky toes. He grew taller than a skyscraper, all the while looking more and more comically beefy. His cock grew thick as his arms and long enough to block the view in front of his face, throbbing and leaking, threatening to erupt. He gripped his cock head in a panic, as if trying to plug a gushing drain. Whining, moaning, grunting and writhing about. Fighting between the need to blow and the humiliation of raining down cum on all of the men below him. His balls swollen as large as his mighty ass cheeks, the need overwhelmed him. He let out a roar that shattered windows, set off car alarms and could be heard for miles. Like a fire hose, his load sprayed up and out before arching forward and falling like a viscous rain. It drenched the men below, soaking the entire area as he came over and over, both hands gripping the base of his cock, moans and screams bellowing out from him. It flooded the streets and swept up men, carrying them along in its current. Exhausted, he crashed forward on hands and knees to catch his breath. Before long, the sound of a helicopter was whirring from behind him and dread filled his belly as he heard a news reporter speaking into a mic.

“We’re live at the scene where a man has become a giant. No one knows how he managed to grow so big or just how much bigger he might continue to grow…”

Darren hardly managed a desperate, protesting screech before the transformation took hold once more…

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