by Also Known As

I had purchased time with Augments before but this was my first time with a Grower.

Added: Oct 2002 16,182 words 20,321 views 4.5 stars (4 votes)


I had purchased time with Augments before but this was my first time with a Grower. Ever since science managed to break down the physical limits of the body and the cosmetics industry had latched on to that discovery and come out with lotions and ointments and balms to apply to skin and muscle to firm up, build up and bulk up men and women everywhere began to change in sometimes subtle and sometimes drastic ways.

The really amazing stuff was still experimental and mostly illegal or, if not, extremely expensive and from what I heard pretty damn painful. It was the sex industry that had the dough and the need for those kinds of alterations. These were not merely improvements like so many commercially available products. Not the wrinkle cream that removed years from your face or the lotion you could apply to remove hair permanently or the other stuff to put hair back on wherever one might want it. This was stuff that changed a person's physical make- up in drastic and unusual ways.

Bigger tits? Three injections and you could have melons bigger than any bra could hold. Bigger dick? Now you were really playing with fire and a few early adopters ended up with monstrous tools that didn't do much of anything but lie there and look big, or stay hard forever and make taking a piss a painful adventure. But things improved, they learned the intricacies of the human body, discovered that not only what was injected but where and how much would yield different results in every body.

The human genome was a bigger mystery than anyone realized.

Still, those that succeeded in realizing their own (or others) idealized versions of physical human beauty were in great demand and could basically ask any price they wanted. Some just wanted to look. They wanted a show, a live peek at perfection. Others wanted to see and feel, and that cost more. You could always get the vids but there was no telling whether what you were seeing was real or CGI. Computer artists were better than any air brush, and they could make those visions of beauty move and bend and bulge at will.

Getting them live was the first step. And depending on your fetish of choice, getting the best ones could cost as much as your mortgage for a few months or even years. After all, they had to pay for their operations, didn't they? And in the end one could never tell whether they'd benefit from the next injection or find that all their careful development was down the drain.

I'd seen a few muscle monsters. Some were very impressive, but the results were usually localized. Huge arms. Huge chest. Huge legs. Bulging masses of incredible size and evident strength they would bulge larger and larger as you watched, sometimes so big you'd swear the skin would split. Once or twice a real choice model might come along, some guy with all the goods arranged in perfect symmetry. Usually the body was great but the face showed some of what was called Genetic Garbage. Make an injection in the belly to flatten and build it, all the fat had to go somewhere, didn't it?

Then they solved that, too. The old models needed more cash to get upgraded to keep up with the latest beauties making the rounds. Now the guys were almost too amazing to be believed. Everything honed to perfection. Long, fat dicks dripping sex. Broad bulging chests with plump, lickable nips pointed at the floor. High, tight asses and moist, rosy holes. Long legs cabled with power. Perfect skin stretched tight against their mountains of strength, bronzed and gleaming. They would smile with their mouths of perfect teeth and their clear, sharp eyes would sparkle. But the prices went up with the quality, and actually managing a little time to not only look, not only touch but to actually take these men by the hand and lead them to the bedroom for an hour of play was something most could only dream of.

Luckily, I had the money to make certain dreams a reality. I wasn't so rich that I could have anyone I wanted, of course. So I was careful. I did my homework. I asked around, I checked the tablets, scanned the net, talked with those who followed the circuit and knew the names and one came up more and more often recently.

This guy, it was said, was something beyond what anyone else had achieved. If even half the rumors were true, my mind and body would be blown tonight. He went by a single name—Titan—and he was something new among the Augments. He called himself a Grower. That, in itself, wasn't new. Guys had been calling themselves growers ever since the first super erections came on the scene. Dudes with cocks that looked like any other pornstar member but when they got going, they grew huge. Mammoth two-foot long hard-ons covered with thick veins and throbbing with sexual promise. Growers were very popular, naturally, even though for the most part they were practically worthless for anything but a never-to-be-forgotten hand job. Watching a guy's dick swell larger and larger and larger still was enough of a turn-on for some, and they were content to watch and wish. And there were guys who could accommodate the super cocks, of course.

Titan, like I said, promised something more. “He gets big,” I was told. “Yeah, so?”

“No, I mean he gets real big—all of him.”

“Big enough to be worth the price?” The guy shrugged, making me think he hadn't actually seen it. So I checked some more, and the stories were close to impossible to believe.

How was he doing it? No one got big all over. Some said he was taking double or triple doses, abusing the injections meant for big digs and using the chemicals all over. But I also heard that he was beautiful to behold, a man of such overwhelming attractiveness that he really didn't have to do any special tricks to be worth the price. And there was no way a guy could keep all his looks if he was abusing the carefully managed injections. It was all monitored or it could go bad—very bad. Others suggested he was a genetic anomaly and his body was simply reacting in a different and very positive way to the treatments.

The more I learned, the more curious I became. So I tracked down the contact information and initiated the transaction, getting on the waiting list and putting up a sizable down payment to prove my intentions.

So here I was six months later waiting for my date to begin. Titan, and I still laugh at that name, arrives in 10 minutes. I'm both excited and doubtful. Titan doesn't allow images to be produced of his face or form so I have no idea if his reported beauty is real or advertising.

My name is Titan.

Not really. I'm not a marketing genius, okay? It wasn't even my idea in the first place to start this whole business, but what the hell? As long as I have this special talent, I might as well use it, right?

My real name is Ted. Pretty normal. But who's going to pay for a Ted when they can get a Titan, right? And it seems to work out okay, mostly.

I'm writing this down because I'm not sure what will happen next. I've been told what's happening to me and why but I'm no doctor so all I can do is write it down as far as I understand it, which isn't very far. It seems I am genetically gifted or something like that. Normally the new procedures take pretty easily and guys who want to get bigger can do so, only it's pretty painful and “actual mileage may vary.” But my body, luckily for me, seems to adjust really well to all these things and so far that's been a pretty big benefit.

At first, all I wanted was to be bigger. More muscular. I mean, as long as I can have it, why not get it? I'd been working out all my life, pretty much, so I was already pretty big. That should have given me a clue that I'd be able to get really big since the weightlifting worked so well. Not to brag but I was a huge dude. By the time I was 19—I'm 23 now, I guess I should mention—when I was 19 I weighed 240 and had 5% body fat. That was most of the time. I was 6’3” and looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. But all I wanted was to get bigger. That was my goal. I loved seeing my arms swelling, watching my chest getting huge, feeling the tight, hard power all through my body. So when I was approached by The Club to take the injections, I said yes.

I should explain The Club. The Club is a place where lots of Auggies, as Augments like me are sometimes called, are employed. Then others who are into watching Auggies—or other stuff which I probably don't have to go into—pay to come to The Club and, depending on what they want to do, how far they want to go, etc., they have to pay more. So The Club is always on the lookout for likely new candidates, which is how I came to be where I am.

There's no way I could afford the treatments on my own. They cost a hell of a lot and I spent most of my time at the gym, so there wasn't too much money coming in. Just enough to keep my membership up and feed my need with protein shakes and meal bars and anything else I could pour into my body to get bigger and stronger. Don't get me wrong, I didn't do the dangerous stuff, and I sure had my doubts about the treatments until I met Rob and he put my fears to rest.

Rob was already an Auggie at The Club. Rob was, and is, a huge motherfucker. Everywhere. When I walked into The Club that day two years ago he stood out even among all the other huge motherfuckers. Like me, his body accepted the effects of the augmentation drugs more readily and with more noticeable results than most other guys. He had gained not only muscle, but also a few inches of height and a few inches of dick as well. More than a few inches, actually. He was packed good and tight into his pants, let me tell you. He didn't have a basket, he had a bucket. He had a bathtub. He had a fucking silo. He walked with the ambling stride of a guy whose thighs were so big they had move around each other. His heavy arms swung with full, thick bellies of veined monsters that looked pumped to perfection even when he wasn't. And when he was, it was a wonder the guy could move at all.

I asked him about side effects and he said, yeah, at first there was some pain. Growing pains, he called it. Everyone had them. They might last days or they might last months, it all depended on how quickly your body adapted to and absorbed the chemicals they injected. He said I was bigger as I was then than he was when he got started, which was why I was there. The Club was always looking for new candidates. I asked how many guys were recruited and he said there were about three dozen Auggies on staff. Some of them, most of them, were waiters and bartenders. Everyone had to be big to work there.

Only the truly amazing men were performers, as he called them. The stories were that this was less like Chippendale's and more like The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I asked him point blank about that and he said, yeah, sure, some guys do that. It's where the big money comes from. But no one had to do anything they didn't want to. If I started taking the treatments and didn't like it, I could stop. If I went all the way and all I wanted to do was pose, that was okay too—assuming I got huge enough to be a performer.

What was a performer, I wondered? Do they just strut and pose, or was more involved? He invited me to see the show that night and I could find out for myself.

I asked him if he was still okay, otherwise. Like, could he fuck? Did his appetite change? Any other weird things happening to his body? He showed himself off, bending his arms to pump those massive bi's into watermelons, puffed up his monster chest until the nips poked against the material so tight I thought they'd cut right through and then pulled his shirt up to show off an 8-pack of abs so tight and hard and round and fine that he looked less like a man and more like a god. He goes, do I look like I'm suffering? I was starting to spring some wood just looking at all that meat—massive muscle, even my own, always gets me off—and all I wanted then was to be as big, or bigger, than Rob.

That night I watched the show, and the performances were varied to say the least. Usually it was a combination of a strip show and bodybuilder exhibition and weird, erotic dance routine. The guys got progressively bigger as the night progressed, and there were some who had extra large body parts and others who I guess you could call balanced, meaning they were just huge all over. I got a few passing glances from the clientele even without the juice, but I was wearing my tightest pair of Calvins and a mesh shirt that showed me off well so I was used to that.

But by the time Rob came out, no one was looking at me. I have to say the guy was fucking impressive. He came out in this sort of one-piece spandex thing that made him look like a super hero from your best wet dream, assuming you're into muscle. He'd pumped up and was bigger—he looked a lot bigger in fact, but maybe it was lighting that was showing off his massive cuts and the deep definition of his muscles. He was a monster, and when he smiled and looked directly at me I felt a jolt in my jeans I can still feel today.

If I was worried about those masses of muscle making a guy all stiff and awkward, Rob's routine cleared that up quick. He was bending over backwards, I shit you not. He peeled himself slowly out of that slick suit and stood up there swiveling his hips and twisting that massive body to some techno shit like he had lube in his joints. He bent down and sucked on his own dick. Probably helped that it was so big that he didn't have to lean over too far, but when he deep throated himself and that hard, red meat came out all slick with his spit and glistening in the light I knew what I wanted more than ever.

I started the treatments the very next day. They warned me that I wouldn't be able to workout during the process. I asked if that meant I shouldn't, and the tech said no one ever did, they were in too much pain as the muscle started developing. Working the muscle while they were growing would prove too painful.

As they say, no pain no gain.

It did hurt at first. But because of how my body was reacting, the pain rarely lasted more than a day. Usually I'd lose a night's sleep but feel fine the next day. So I'd go to the gym nearly all day, everyday, because The Club was paying my expenses during the process. It was all part of the deal. I would be like an indentured servent until I paid them back, so it was in my best interest to get as big as possible so I could perform, and then to “perform” according to the customer's wishes—all their wishes—in order to bring in enough cash to pay off the debt faster. So I figured if I wanted to get the most out of this, I'd need to put a lot into it.

At first the gains were little better than I'd gotten taking the more mundane supplements. The first month I was wondering if anything was happening at all. Then, all the sudden, everything started swelling.

And I mean everything.

The treatments usually take six months. I finished mine in half the time—and started again. A double dose. I couldn't help myself, I was growing so fucking fast and getting so fucking strong that it was all I wanted. Inches of muscle were growing on my arms. My chest was swollen with fat cables of power. My legs were tree trunks. And my dick had doubled its length, going from an underwhelming, though average, 4 inches to just under 8. I could bench 750 lbs. and curl 200. My body also grew another 6 inches taller.

The second treatments improved the results dramatically—and it was during them that I started realizing some very odd and interesting side effects. See, no one is supposed to take two treatments.

After I was done, I had three.

My first few nights at the Club were not that great. I was used to being worshiped from afar, but being worshiped from the stage was weird. But I got used to it quick and really got into performing for the audience—mostly guys—and became the headliner after it was clear that my particular talents had surpassed Rob's. He didn't care too much, he was part owner of the place so the more money pulled in, no matter who was doing the pulling, he was all for.

At first I felt weird getting nude in the spotlight. The locker room is one thing. Everyone's naked there at some point, and sure there's glances and overt staring, especially when a guy looks like I do. But when you're the only one stripping down to your birthday suit and you're making a big deal out of it—I mean, shit, it's a little odd, right? Especially when guys are fighting each other to get your jockstrap.

I didn't do much dancing at first, I mostly just came out and took off my clothes and did some poses and left. No big deal, but that's enough for some guys, I guess. Rob and a couple of the better dancers coached me and helped me find some music that would get my ass moving (Prince, if you must know. That little sexy fucker must have pure cum in his bloodstream or something.) and after a few bouts of shyness I managed to really get down and get into myself, which is what they wanted.

They, the audience, they wanted me to fucking feel myself up. Lick and sniff and caress, baby, it was all good. Wipe those dirty digits across your asshole and sniff it up. Spit a gob in your palm and stroke your meat till it's hard. Sniff your hairy pits, lick your nips, dig your nails through your chest hair. All that shit gets them going apeshit.

I learned that the muscle growth made me bigger and stronger as expected, but there were other body benefits I hadn't expected. That flexibility like Rob showed made itself apparent by accident when I tripped on stage and did this freaky weird acrobatic thing, limbs going all over, twisting my torso around, and I was fine. Looked like a fucking dance step. So I started experimenting and found I could pretty much get my body into any position I could imagine.

My tips went through the roof after that.

And I kept getting bigger. And then something else happened. Something amazing. I wasn't the first, I soon discovered, but I wasn't prepared for it at all. I was more than an Auggie—I was a Grower.


I watched him where he was, low down against the wall looking back at me. He had lowered himself to place his shoes on the carpet and I watched his tall frame compact with an eager fascination that surprised me. Watching that huge body bunching down like that, seeing all the muscle press against itself and bulge outward was making me hot and hard. His naked form bulged with strength, every muscle primed and pumped to full roundness. I could see the fibers along his thighs stretch and pull as he balanced himself, my gaze drawn from his until his voice drew me back. “How big?” he echoed.

I licked my lips and pulled in a calming breath. “How big can you get?”

He smiled, increasing his overall level of attractiveness to something just this side of perfection. His bronzed skin was smooth and elastic and his teeth were straight and very white. His eyes seemed to twinkle. He looked dangerous and sexy and too beautiful to be here with me alone. He deserved to be on a magazine cover or staring from a video screen seducing an audience of millions with his incredible physique and face.

He stayed where he was as he answered, his deep baritone fully reflecting the powerful waves of masculinity he pumped out like sweat. “As big as you wish me to be.” As he said it, he leaned back slightly, leaning his wide shoulders to the wall and pushing his pelvis forward so his ample tool spilled more fully from between his muscled legs. It was a massive thickness of cock, drooping not merely inches but a full foot at least, fat and ripe but still limp even though the skin seemed to be stretched tight across his contours, the whole of his meat smooth and firm. His smile narrowed and his cock stretched itself longer still, dipping toward the floor. It stretched itself forward so simply and easily that for a moment I thought I could do the same thing, that I could simply beckon my dick to grow and it would. Just like his.

But he was enhanced. I knew it when I bought him—ordered him really. He was damned expensive, but I wanted someone special. When he showed up, I was breathless. God could not have created such perfect beauty, only man could do that.

After he arrived he immediately kissed me deeply and meaningfully and reached his talented hands around my body and under, grabbing my ass with gusto. Everything had been pumped up on him, I was told. Unlimited libido for unlimited sex. He'd get hard on command, stay hard as long as I wanted him to, and cum for as long and as thick and as much as I wanted to see or feel him do it.

I'm not sure I believed it all, but what I saw was more than I dreamed of, already. His body had been altered using the latest genetic and cellular advances so that those enhancements required no tools or chemicals or additions of any kind. He was in total control—and he would allow me total control for one hour.

“Stand up,” I said. He did so. His body answering perfectly, stretching itself tall and powerful before me. “How tall are you?”

“Six foot four inches.” I scanned him hungrily. “Exactly.” His body was perfect, and why not? He controlled every aspect of himself, from skin to hair to the color of his eyes. Everything was right where it should be in perfect proportion. His head was topped with a full, lustrous mane of blackness that made his blue eyes seem so deeply azure that they might have been jewels.


I watched as he expanded as if he were an image being magnified. “Six foot six.” He said it without pride, it was simply a statement. `I am now more than I was,' he was saying, `at your command.'

“More, and more muscle.”

He began to swell again, this time upwards and outwards both. “Six foot eight. Twenty five additional pounds.” It was amazing and awesome. He did it so easily, so quickly. I could see him changing in seconds, his arms growing longer and filling with muscle. His narrow waist staying lean and trim and cobbled with perfect abs. His legs stretching and thickening. Everything growing bigger and more powerful all because I asked.

His eyebrow rose on his beautiful face noting that my attention was drawn to his chest. He said, “You like that?” and it grew, the two hemispheres swelling like balloons, the cables of power bulging thicker and thicker shoving his dark, round nipples toward the floor. I nodded and they continued to develop, bigger and bigger, swollen muscular tits as round as melons. His shoulders began to broaden outward just to support the weight of them, even his neck growing broad as the ponderous boulders continued to swell and distend. His chest was so big now it gave him not a V-shaped but almost a T-shape, and I said, “Not too much.”

“You know the rules?”

I nodded. I read them before I ordered him, digitally signed them when I paid the fee. The rules were simple and clear. I knew what I wanted, though. “Okay,” he said, his growth stopping as suddenly as it had started, and he stood there now, naked, huge, impossibly proportioned. His arms were relaxed at his side, both shielded with mounds of bulging meat. He lifted the right one and his hand moved onto his pelvis, onto his tight groin, his fingers diving into the soft, thick curls of hair above the heavy root of his pendulous monster and he gently rubbed at an itch, sending his beast to swinging. I nearly came. “Can you—?”

His brows rose expectantly. “I can do anything.” And that smile returned.

This one was an easy one. It was getting so I could tell right away if I was dealing with a pusher or a watcher. Pushers were careful, now. Probably they knew better or maybe they'd all had a painful experience with a Grower by now. Me, I was always careful from the start. But I had an advantage.

I had always been big. Always wanted to be bigger. Got the first enhancements as soon as they were legal—there was no fucking way I was messing with the body I had spent so many hours building to perfection. Let the jerks get the illegal stuff, I'd wait until all those monkeys survived the experiments before I allowed it inside my temple.

And like every other guy who was in this business, I spent the first two months paying for what I wanted more than anything, not to mention the expense. Twelve injections followed by two cranials and the final whole body prep. They shoot you full of some magic junk that starts to change you from the inside out. Slow at first, almost so slow you hardly even notice.

The first two needles hurt the most and seemed to do the least, even though the lab tech told me they were prep work and would do the most to me, sort of laying down the track for the train I was going to be shoving through my DNA. I was disappointed when I couldn't see any change and it hurt like a motherfucker. Burned inside me for five days—the first three days I could hardly move. All that got me through that was the promise of what would come next, and I had firsthand experience with the results of that promise. I couldn't believe what the guys told me until they showed me, and who wasn't a believer after that?

Not everyone can take it, of course. Not yet, anyway. They'll find away around that, probably, and when it gets enhanced again I'll get in line again, credits in hand. Meanwhile I get to meet guys like this one, or ones a lot less nice and a lot more demanding. Luckily there's a lifetime warranty and no maximum limit on my new capabilities.

Well, that's not entirely true, either. I know what my limits are, I've tested them. It's the first thing you do after the enhancement is finalized. You can't help it! You watch yourself in the mirror and you start out real slow and careful, but after a few minutes you're already blowing out the brakes and pumping the throttle to full. I saw myself getting bigger and bigger and suddenly I wanted to be as big as I could get, just grow until I couldn't grow anymore. “You won't know your upper limit until you reach it,” they told me. It didn't matter how big I was to start out with, it mattered how my body reacted to the treatments and every body was different.

I heard some guy gets up over nine feet but his muscles only get to 400, 425 or something. I bet he looks impressive, all in all. Me, I can only get to 8 feet 2 inches, but my muscles go like a bat out of hell, swelling up to tip the scale at 619 pounds. I'm a huge dude, I gotta say.

Also my dick is very large. I started with an 8 incher. Not too shabby. But, when I want to (or need to) I can manage 17 inches. It looks bigger and I usually say it's 20 and they rarely want to measure when I'm big so I get away with it. I heard of a 2-foot long guy in Minneapolis, or Mississippi or something. Probably true. Again, it's all in the genes.

I asked him if he knew the rules. They're pretty simple and really there's only one he had to worry about, depending on his goals for this session. I can get as big as he wants—but if he goes too far, I can't come back down. That takes sleep. A good night in bed—resting, I should add—and I'm back where I was before the stuff took over, good old me. The problem will be if he's expecting any fun and games. If I get too big, I'll rip him open if he decides he wants to be fucked by a great big dick. Some guys can manage 10 inches. Some, a few, can take 12. 17? No one but another Grower's gonna welcome that inside.

Sometimes, most days lately, I wake up and immediately get bigger. I'm 5-11 normally and that's still not bad, but not as impressive as 6-4. That's my new `normal height.' Then I pump in a good 40 pounds of rock hard muscle and pack my 10-incher inside a pair of lycra shorts and I'm off to the gym. They told me I didn't need to do that any more, but I still enjoy the burn and, truth to tell, I think it does make a difference. I think my muscles look bigger. Maybe it's just me. I know sometimes I'll wake up after a particularly vivid and hot dream and my body's pumped and primed, my feet shoving out of bed because I'm a foot taller than when I got in it. They said that would pass in time, too, and only my conscious brain would have growth control.

This guy liked my chest. Hell, he liked everything about me. When I started swelling, so did he, no pause or anything. I liked that, it made me horny, too. Of course, all he had to do to get me horny is ask for it. I could get hard on command and stay hard, now, all night if he wanted. As hard as he wanted. No one yet had asked me to pound nails with my dick. I was sort of looking forward to it.


“How—?” I was sort of embarrassed to ask this question, but I wanted to know. He just stood there, a slave to my commands.


“How does it work?”

“The growing?” I nodded. Titan tilted his head. “Are you sure you want to spend your time with me in conversation?” He moved his hand down the length of his impressive prick. He had to bend slightly to cup the plump helmet. I nodded again and he laughed, slightly. “Okay,” he answered, straightening. “It's pretty simple. My body will do whatever I require of it. I have been physically altered at the genetic level through a process of injections that—”

“I know that part.” He was very intimidating. So huge and overwhelmingly masculine. “I was wondering though about the feeling of it. When you grow, I mean. Do you think, `arm get bigger' or do you picture it getting bigger? Can you feel the growth happening? Does it burn or tingle or—”

He nodded understanding. “Yes, I feel it. I feel it two ways. I feel myself getting heavier as the muscle grows, and I feel… it's sort of hard to express. I feel myself getting stronger. I can feel… it feels like—” He paused and then walked toward me. “Put your hand here, on my arm.” He lifted his right arm and bent it slightly. The bicep bulged thick and fat. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and after a moment of gazing in his blue, blue eyes I did. Then I could feel him growing under my touch.

It was amazing and inspiring to feel him. The muscle grew warm as it grew, and I felt something of what he was talking about. The strength of it seemed to radiate like the warmth, like a physical feeling. I felt the head split and separate as it grew, and then it stopped and when I opened my eyes, I saw that he had made both arms grow and now his upper body was more in proportion to his huge chest. He smiled to me. “Did you feel it?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. Then I asked again, “How big can you get?”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Very, very big.” He swelled larger again. He swelled against me. He grew taller still and fatter with power. “Seven feet tall, now. 50 additional pounds of muscle.” He bent the arm again. It was huge! So huge!


He was pretty cute, now that I looked at him. A guy in my position sort of gets, I don't know, bored? Other guys are always looking at you. Paying to do so, most of the time. The treatments were expensive and would only get to be more so. I left The Club after I found I had this talent, mostly because the guys there only wanted big. The Growth thing was still pretty new, sort of an anomaly, but there was a growing audience for guys like me through other channels, and those channels promised big bucks if you fit a certain profile.

Luckily, yours truly fit it like a glove.

Handsome, well-proportioned, well-hung and my Grower abilities covered everything—again, unusual. Some guys, it was only muscle. Some guys got the muscle and the soft tissue, meaning they could also do their dicks and, for what it's worth, their ears and nose.

One can never tell what'll get someone else off. I learned that long ago.

Anyway, me, I got the full package. Muscle, soft tissue and skeletal. With practice, I can control everything separately or together. It become second nature, like breathing.

Not at first, though, oh no! I was fucking freaking out there when things started changing on their own. Arm gets huge. One fat thigh. Suddenly my neck's as wide as my shoulders! I thought that the three treatments had backfired, but in reality they'd only taken me to the next level, broken some barrier or something, and I realized that I was the one doing those things, because, literally, I was wishing them into being.

I'd look at my arm as I made a muscle and sigh, wishing it was bigger. Suddenly, it was! I was so freaked, I didn't make any connection between what I was thinking and what was happening. That came later, and man did I ever have some fun after that.

Titan towered over me. He was a god made flesh, so much more powerful and beautiful than any other man I had ever seen that he set a new standard. I would have new dreams after being with him, and I would never be able to watch my old vids again. Was it even fair that such a man existed?

He voiced rumbled through me again, like an earthquake. “We should talk about your plans.”

“My plans?” I could hardly hear his words. I was mesmerized by his sheer bulk, all the bands of thick power, the angular masculine beauty of his face.

He smiled then, licked his lips and spoke. “Are you planning on watching, or did you have more participatory action in mind?”

“What?” Was he talking to me? My eyes scanned the lines of his body, the perfect power and bulging strength. His skin seemed to shine like liquid bronze.

His deep growl came out like liquid thunder. “Are we going to fuck?”

He pressed himself toward me, his hugeness now like an embrace. I could feel his breath on my face as I met his gaze, looking up and up, past his chest and that muscled neck and the jutting jawline. He smelled of tobacco and something spicy and dirty sweat—all man. His smile was slim and wicked, reminding me that he was mine tonight and would do only what I asked of him.

He could crush me into powder. He could split me open. God, the strength and size of the man. I felt his hand on my shoulder. I watched his face coming closer, tilting, felt his lips against mine as he kissed me gently, so gently, then deeper, insistent, needful. I was powerfully turned on by the contrast, this huge powerful man kissing my mouth with such a tender and passionate touch. I wanted to crush him inside my embrace, to somehow surround him and capture his strength, but my small arms could barely surround his bulk.

And his skin was so soft, so warm, like silk.

“Bigger,” I said, my voice soft and seemingly small. “Please.”

His smile gleamed with teeth and I could feel it again, that surge of heat and power through his muscled body, but it was all over this time, it was against me and through me and inside, and I watched his face move higher and felt his chest expanding, and the heat was everywhere.

Man, this dude was into me and how. I didn't mind being a thing to him, really. I mean, this wasn't about love, now was it? It was about worship. I knew that, so did he. And it was so easy to give him what he wanted.

I grew for him. I felt it everywhere, and I fucking loved it. My strength increasing, my muscles expanding, my whole body growing bigger and bigger, fatter with power and size. Feeling so powerfully masculine and so incredibly strong, man I fucking dug this shit.

My arms stung with power, swelling another inch fatter. My chest drooped with muscle as I packed it on. God, it felt so good. But he still didn't answer me, could I make my cock grow? I held back. Something told me to, that he'd need me inside him soon, to make that ultimate connection to me. When he wanted inside me, that would be no problems. I'd open wide for him and swallow his dick with my ass. I'd welcome him inside the wet heat of my marvelous, miraculous butthole and then squeeze and knead and suck him. My muscle control was absolute. He had no idea what he was in for.

I said, “Seven feet. Sixty more pounds.” He swallowed hard and asked, “What else?” I raised an eyebrow in question and he said, “Tell me how big your chest is. How big is your arm? How big…?”

Ah. The details. Some guys need that, even when they're right here with me. Size matters, as they say, and sometime you couldn't really fathom it without numbers. But that was harder for me to tell him. Even the weight, well, I was making that up. I told him what I felt like, but maybe it was more, maybe it was less. I could judge my height easily enough, I had him to scale against.

But I didn't have to tell him. I knew what would turn him on more. “Do you have a tape?” I stepped back from him and bent my arm, watching myself swell. The muscle split and peaked hugely. Veins popped and pulsed to feed the strength. I looked down at him, my arm poised like that, the rock-hard muscle held motionless for him.

He took in a deep breath. “Hold that,” he said. Like he needed to tell me. Fuck, dude, I know what you want. I can hold this forever. I just smiled and nodded. I even winked for him.

Fuck, this guy was so hot. Feeling him grow against me, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be fucking him, and feel him grow as I did it. To imagine that I was the one doing it, that my dick inside him was inflating him with muscle. That I alone had the power to make men like this, to fuck them huge and powerful. Fuck, I wanted that. I wanted that so bad.

But I also needed this. How big was he now? How many inches would I add to him? How fucking huge was that chest? Jesus Christ, look at him! Those mounds of muscular beauty, round and heavy and firm. How fucking big was that arm? He held it there, the bicep and tricep swollen and hard, and had this half smile on his face. He was enjoying this. Fuck, of course he was. Who wouldn't?

I got the tape and came back and there he was, still, posed just as I had left him, the arm still bent, the muscle still bulging. I wrapped it around his arm and felt my knees go weak as the tape told the tale. He was watching me measure him, and then he glanced at the tape, reading just under 21 inches, and something happened and his arm was swelling again and the tape stretched to surround the burgeoning strength. 22 inches. 23. Then it was slowing, his growth, and the heat disappeared as the arm reached the two-foot level.

I met his gaze and he winked again. God, that was so sexy. His face looked different, too, somehow. Leaner, more angular. Hard and manly. His soft, moist lips parted and that bear growl came out low and gentle. “More?”

“Wait. Your chest.” I circled behind him and he raised his arms. So fucking huge! The triceps stuck out like wings and the bi's hugged his head. His huge shoulders bunched into boulders. He was nothing but muscle everywhere. I rose up on my toes and tried to fit my arms around him but couldn't, he was already too big for that. I felt as well as heard his laugh gently and he took hold of the tape and held it for me. I came back around and he lowered his arms, making his torso bulge fatter still. His nipples were like gumdrops, and I wanted to suck on their sweetness.

He was watching my face as I read the number. I said, “Fuck,” softly as I saw the measure of him.

This was fun. It's great when your partner is so into you, even when he's a paying customer. His hands moved across my body in reverence and wonder. I started thinking that maybe we'd never get to fuck, that he was too turned on just by the sight of me and cream his jeans too soon. They were tented and there was an evident wet spot where his cock was pushing hardest for release. From the look of things, he was hung pretty decently, which is a nice benefit for me but not something I need. My ass accommodates anyone and anything, from a guy a little lacking to a two-foot double-ended dildo. I grab hold and give them all the ride of their life.

I was trying to be careful, here. His hunger for muscle was insatiable. I knew all I had to do was ultimate out, just blow the roof off the sucker and swell all the way to my impossible proportions, but that could wait. That was always afterwards, when he was spent and it didn't matter anymore how big I got.

For now, I looked down at his elegant hands holding onto the measuring tape, noted his appreciation of my nips and made a mental note to augment those a little fuller, and read the number with him. He saw it and said, “Fuck,” almost in a whisper, and I decided to give him another treat. The heat was intense as my chest swelled outward. 57 inches. 60 inches. 64 inches. Bigger and bigger and bigger. The tape tightened against my skin because I wasn't gently swelling, I was bulging fast and hard. My waist stayed tight and slim as I developed an impossible taper, 30 inches around as my pecs mounded bigger still.

66 inches. 70. Slowing now. 71 inches. Then, finally, 72 inches. Six feet of prime, hard, packed man tit. And my nipples, pointing almost straight down now, were as fat as thumbs. He looked like he was gonna faint. Man, I fucking rocked.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. His chest was growing under my hands. The heat was like a furnace. He wasn't gently swelling, the guy was growing so fast that I could watch the muscle develop. Muscle spilt and spread and split again. Muscle on top of muscle. Ribbons of power, cables of it. Hard and plump, and that surging heat and sense of power building and building right along with it.

He looked so beautiful, so huge and perfect. His cobblestone belly stayed slim and hard as his upper body grow wider and fatter. His pecs, though, were the most amazing thing. Round and firm, muscled pillows I wanted to knead and caress, fat, juicy nipples wanting to be sucked and nibbled, and the tape told the story before my disbelieving eyes. In seconds he'd grown over a foot larger. The tape was at its max, unable to contain him any more, and I let it drop to the floor between us.

He was still smiling his secret, sexy smile when I looked up to his face again, above the huge globes of power hanging off his chest. I swallowed hard into a dry throat, so severly turned on by this that I could feel by prick tingling with need of release. I had to step back from him, to try to calm myself before I blew my load before I even had my clothes off.

I think I was still breathing. I think that's what I heard in my ears, but maybe it was blood rushing from my brain into my crotch to feed the hungry monster. I was so hard I hurt. There wasn't any time left. I closed my eyes to shut the site of his muscular perfection from me for a few moments and started unbuckling my belt.

Finally! I enjoy a good growth session as much as the next Auggie fan, but I knew this guy could only take so much more before we'd both call it a night, and there I'd be, all morphed out with a hungry butt and an angry dick looking for some action.

There are places we go, us Growers. Truth be told, I do it with regular guys for the money. I've met a couple that really had it going on, fuck-wise. I mean they had killer technique and didn't need anything but their talented hands and tongues and dicks and asses to show us both a good time.

On the other hand, my main squeeze Jason isn't a Grower or even an Auggie. Hell, he's not even particularly muscular, just nicely built with a hell of a cock on his tight little bod. He's an artist, which is how we met. He paints and sculpts these highly erotic images of men. Very lifelike, truly beautiful. He's always looking for models to perfect his craft and help him realize the ultimate expression of masculine power and beauty, and what could be better than a guy like me who can conform to whatever your physical wishes might be?

So we hook up and I strip down and he's sort of molding me, or sculpting me might be more accurate. He was placing his hands to my naked flash and telling me in precise terms where to develop, and how, and how much. He'd get me to a state of amazing physical beauty and take some photos from every angle, literally. And by the end we were both so turned on that the simple photo session turned into one of the hottest nights of sex ever! The guy was and is the best lover I've ever had. And every time he looks at me, I get chills at the realization of what he sees in me. I never have to be special or do anything to make him hard, and he loves me for everything about me, not just what my body can do.

And let me tell you that there's nothing so sexually charged for me as a guy who knows what to do with his hands. When he lays them on me and starts whispering dirty words in my ear, I am gone. Every once in a while I still model for him, and I still get as excited and horny as that first time. It may be hard for you to image it if you aren't a Grower, but the idea that a guy can take control of me like that and make me look better than I can look myself without him, it's like a deeper physical connection than sex.

Man, I love that guy. Sometimes it hurts.

Couple of times these aug-free bodybuilders contracted me. One wasn't into the growth so much as the hardness. His challenge for me wasn't to get bigger, but harder. I showed up at around 6' 6” packing a good 250 pounds on my frame to measure up to him. He was gorgeous, so that's a plus. Some ex Mr. Something or Other, prime manflesh with a horse cock and a face that would make grown men weep. Sort of German looking, with this beautiful olive skin and his muscles toned to a balance and perfection that showed hours and hours and hours of dedication. And he clearly enjoyed being a man. He wasn't competing now—there was no need what with the Auggies stepping up and changing the idea of muscular development. Oh, sure, some hardcore muscleheads insisted on still doing contests, but the fans were more interested in what we had to offer—namely, more muscle and non-stop size.

Anyway, rather than going to seed, this guy was no longer shaving off all that delicious soft fur and looked like nothing short of male perfection. He was in his 40's and the muscle was aged to perfection and hard as steel—but he had a dream, something he felt incapable of achieving. So he hired me to show him what he wanted.

He wanted me to get hard as a rock. Not bigger, just harder. He wondered if it was possible, and frankly so did I. But I concentrated, gave him the usual schpiel about `if I grow, I can't shrink until I sleep' so in case I did it wrong, we both knew I couldn't go back. He said he understood, I said I wouldn't charge him if I fucked it up, and then I began.

It was a weird feeling, to develop but not grow. I figured I had to pack on the density but somehow keep it all from swelling. Took a lot of concentration and I wasn't entirely successful that first time, kept getting to a point and then, oops, growth. But after a while I recognized the subtle difference between development and growth and I've seen him a few times since. Now I can get my muscle so hard I doubt a knife could cut me. It's pretty cool, actually. I look almost like a statue. For some reason my skin gets shiny as the muscle tightens and when I walk around, hard as steel, it's pretty impressive.

Other guys have other distinct desires. Bigger cock is popular, of course. Usually they want to see it grow and swell really slowly as if I'm not augmented, as if I'm just this built dude with a regular cock but when I get excited, it grows bigger and bigger, ripping its way through my shorts and jeans, and bigger and bigger, swelling from this little four-inch cutie to a monsterous, beer-can thick, veiny beast with a purple swollen helmet and two balls so heavy with cum that they're drooping with it.

Then there's the Grower Clubs. You've probably heard of them, and maybe been to one. Growers meet up there on their own looking to hook up with other Growers. I mean, let's face facts, I wouldn't have gotten this huge if I weren't turned on by it. Same with the other guys. So occasionally we meet up in these places and the paying public comes in to watch us fuck, or whatever. Some guys have pose offs, challenging each other to get bigger and bigger, comparing their parts and then swelling to Ultimate to see who's the biggest swinging dick in the place. Others, like me, just go for the sex.

Jason doesn't care, he knows it's just the fuck and not love I'm looking for. He never goes to the Clubs, and when he hooks up with someone else it's usually one of his models or some regular guy he picked up in a bar. He's very conservative. But me, I get off on fucking another huge guy and we're both sweaty and grunting and growing huge with power, as if the fuck is doing it. Like we met up as ordinary men and then, as we fuck, something magical happens and we start to grow.

Both of us know it's a fantasy, and neither of us says anything about it. It just happens. We meet up, maybe we're about 6-foot or something because the smaller we start out at the bigger we're gonna get and that's a big part of the whole act, the growing as well as the fucking.

And something about this guy told me that he was looking to fulfill the same fantasy.

He was bigger than the tape. It was time, before I lost it, before he was too big to get any bigger and I'd lose the dream that I was paying so dearly to realize.

I had to admit that Titan was a lot more than I thought. I was looking forward just to the physical, but he was sweet and kind and seemed to be able to anticipate what I wanted before I wanted it. At least, I chose to think that, rather than believe I was like every other Auggie fan and he did this for everyone.

I undid my pants and pulled them off, slightly embarrassed at the wet patch on my Calvins. I looked at him sheepishly but he was smiling broadly and wiggled his brows when I uncovered myself. I felt a thrill rush through me again, feeling like I was falling in love with this man. He folded his massive guns across that impossible chest, making his upper torso wider still so that his waist looked impossibly small. He was already seven feet high and God knows how much he weighed. Those muscles could grind me into powder, but there he stood, looking at me and smiling, waiting for my orders.

Fuck I was turned on!

I practically ripped my underwear off and stood there, naked, my 9- incher hard as a rock and throbbing with every beat of my heart. I felt small and weak in front of him, something I hadn't anticipated. I worked out like a dog to get muscle, and I had a nice defined body with a flat stomach and decent pecs. But compared to him, I was nothing.

But he was mine, tonight. And I was going to fuck him even bigger.

He said, “You have a beautiful body,” and he sounded like he meant it. His eyes burned against my skin as he scanned every inch, lingering on my hungry dick. “And it looks like you want something.”

I huffed out a laugh, the fucker was certainly charming. There was a brain under all that brawn, which was an even bigger turn on suddenly. I said, “Just you,” I answered. “All of you.” I looked at him for a minute and asked him to strike a double-bi for me.

He did it achingly slowly. He unwrapped his arms and brought them to his sides. The muscles running the length of his limbs swelled and flexed, bulging even in a relaxed state. He straightened and adjusted his stance, his big cock flopping and his thighs bulging in echo of his arms. I could see every muscle in clear detail, long wedges of power cabled along every inch.

As he bent his arms, the biceps began to gather in on themselves, balling up tight and full until the muscle had to do something to give itself room, and the head split in two. His eyes never left mine as he flexed his hugeness to the awesome and unbelievable extreme. Bigger than anyone, 24-inch arms and a 72-inch chest, packed to overflowing with nothing but muscle, muscle, muscle. A trickle of sweat wound down his wide lats from the hairy, dark depth of his armpit and I wanted to be in there to sniff his masculine scent into my lungs. His skin shone with silky beauty and his face was carved like a God's.

I discovered I was stroking my stiffy as I watched, and I found myself growling “Now turn around and bend over. I'm going to fuck your ass and make you bigger than any man who ever lived.”

Funny thing was, I actually believed it.

Oh, ho, ho, man was this dude into it! I could tell by that tone in his voice. I'd heard it before coming out of my own augmented throat. I felt a rush of pleasure course through my whole body, because I knew I'd feel his fantasy too.

See, a thing I found out once with Jason is that sometimes, I get big without thinking about it. I remember the first time it happened. We were fucking, his fine prick was plugged in and he was screwing me good and hard like I like it, slamming into me, I was on my back with my legs over his shoulders and he was leaning over me going in deep, so deep, and we were at it for a long, fine time and then he comes, his hot cream inside me and I cream at the same time, squirting a thick load all over my own chest.

I'm not concentrating on doing anything but enjoying the ride. My eyes are pinched shut, I'm shouting “Harder, harder!” and he's saying quietly, powerfully, “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll hurt for days. You're gonna feel my cock in your ass until the day you die, motherfucker. Take all of me, all my thick, hard inches,” and then we're done and he collapses onto me and I realize he's a lot smaller than he should be and I open my eyes and I'm fucking huge! Mammoth! Muscle everywhere, fat and broad and pulsing, thick veins feeding all that power, covered in cum and sweat and he says, “Shit, Ted, that was awesome!”

And I go, “Yeah, and look what you did!” And his talented artist's hands start to explore my muscled bulk and he's like, “Why'd you do that?” and I said, “I didn't!” But I'm so charged up, so huge, he starts feeling randy all over again and somehow, some way, we go again!

It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, when I'm able to surrender to the fuck, it's the most amazing feeling. It had never happened with a client, but I was thinking maybe, with this guy, just maybe—

When he turned around and displayed the awesome muscular detail of his back, I nearly came again. He was nothing but bulges everywhere, across his traps, down his lats, every fucking inch crammed full with male strength. He paused and seem to collect himself, and every muscle tensed and flexed. He was showing me his control, flaunting his body's perfection like a prize. I approached him and put my hand on the sleek hardness of his back and pushed him down.

His rosebud opened to me. It was red and puckered and, like the rest of him, perfect. I was drooling precum and I rubbed the hard head of my dick against his hole, leaving a shining slickness. I fingered him, pushing inside, feeling the strength even here, as well as a yielding invitation. His ass seemed to open to my touch and then suck my digit inside. He was hot and wet in there and I felt a jolt of excitement manifest as orgasmic pleasure in my cock.

I pushed in two, three, four fingers. I tickled his prostate, pushing and rubbing against it until I heard his deep rumble of approval. I sniffed him off my hand and then pulled him open and shoved inside.

God, it felt so good, so real and right and beautiful. He had the ass of a God, a welcoming snugness that grabbed hold and pulled tight. He was so deep inside, open for all of me and then he was surrounding my prick and sucking against it, soft moans of delight escaping his throat.

I ran my hand across the mountain range of his back and said, “You're going to feel it everywhere, Titan. I'm going to fuck you huge. So fucking huge.” And I started to slide in and out, shoving my inches inside him, feeling that heat again but this time it was surrounding me and coming from me and I was making him grow.

He was good, I'll give him that. Not as big as Jason, mind you, or as huge as an Auggie with cock to spare. I was outfitted to welcome a dick three times his size with no problem, but I knew what he wanted. He wanted to feel huge, and he wanted to feel like I was the object of his gifts.

But I waited. I relaxed. I gave in. I wanted us to share something. I wanted him to fuck me bigger, just as he wanted to. I wanted to surrender to him and let him take control, and be what he wanted me to be.

So I brought him in and tightened up, using my complete muscular control to fit him like a glove.

But I knew he was already close. His cock was hard as steel and white hot with need and passion. His hands danced across my muscles with devotion and desire. I tried to concentrate only on the fuck, only on his cock, on the deep pleasure I always received no matter who was driving, and what tool they were using. I could always make it feel good for me, but I wanted it to feel good for him, and let him have everything he was paying for.

He fucked my hard and true. Deep and full. I swallowed him and sank into that well of pleasure all men have when they allow themselves to swim in it. I closed my eyes and ran my hands across my own body, reveling in my size and strength.

I could feel it begin as I sank into the ocean of my own power. I did not grow—he made me grow.

Holy shit! I could feel it! I could really feel it! That same thrumming heat and pulsation of muscular development that I'd tasted when he allowed me to put my hand on his arm was happening again, but this time I was doing it! I was feeding him power and strength and shoving his body to more and bigger muscles!

It was different than before, and I knew it was me who was doing it this time. I felt it within me and I gave it to him and as I watched, he was growing. Jesus Fuck it was so sweet, so true and beautiful to watch his body start slowly, so slowly to swell. The muscles of his back were bulging and flexing and I could feel it like thunder inside me, because I was doing it. My cock was doing it. I was feeding him what he needed and now he was getting bigger and bigger.

I couldn't cum. I knew that would be the end of it, this feeling of power and strength pulsing through me into his body. I had to keep fucking his ass and drown in the pleasure of it and make him get bigger still, so big he'd break down doorways and shatter the floor with his passing and tear the doors off cars and be so big, so, so big that nothing could stop him. Pure perfect masculine muscular strength.

He grew inches bigger. Everything swelled with size and power, I could feel him grow, I could feel it everywhere.

Was it happening? What was happening? Something was happening.

God, so big! He was a God. A God of muscle and sex and power. How big was he now? How big would he get?

Stronger and stronger. His shoulders stretched and bulged, round masses doubling in size and rising like bread dough, the skin stretching across his building mass.

His voice grew deeper as he grew larger. His moans of pleasure were so powerful I could feel them in my chest. I could see his arms swelling beyond anything I dreamed of, fat with round, firm power. His ass expanded with more muscle, his legs like tree trunks. He threatened to pull me off my feet as he grew taller, as his legs lengthened, but he bent his knees to keep us together, and he kept on growing.

Then I felt something slapping my thighs and realized it was his balls. Huge! Round, heavy beauties swelling with his seed and dropping lower in their sack, big as eggs, then big as apples! Jesus, I wanted to come! Jesus!

I lost track of time. I lost track of everything but the man's fat dick inside me and the deep, powerful waves of orgasmic pleasure enveloping me. I spread myself open to him and swallowed him up with my ass. I wanted him inside deeper, I wanted all of him.

Oh, God, what was happening?

Bigger, you fucker! Bigger and bigger!

Ahhh, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus. Oh, fuck. Oh, yeeeaaahhhh—

I looked down at what I'd done. He was… he was superhuman. Power and strength and physical beauty stretched across his mammoth body, he bulged with it, he was swollen with it. No one had ever been so big, so powerful, so muscular. No one. Ever.

I wanted badly to come. So, so badly. I hurt with my load. My balls ached. But he had to get bigger! He kept growing, he wasn't stopping! I was doing this! So much muscle, so fat and firm and huge and strong. Jesus, what must it feel like, to be so… powerful?

Ooooohhhhh, fuuuuuuck….

I came. I had to. I plunged in deep and I felt my whole body come. And when I unloaded at last, giving him my male essence, his growth exploded!

What had been a slow, steady, amazing development suddenly turned into an eruption of muscle! I came in his ass, shoving a flood of white heat into his bowels and his whole body was not merely inches bigger, but was blooming with muscle by the foot.

If I wasn't already coming, I would have creamed even harder. I shot myself inside him, spent, and pulled away as he straightened.

If I thought he was amazing before, nothing prepared me for what my eyes were beholding now. Not merely a giant, but something bigger than that! He had to duck to prevent his head from hitting the ceiling. When he turned around, it seemed like there was nothing but muscle in the room. His muscled back did not begin to prepare me for the onslaught of powerful beauty that hung off his torso and shoulders. His waist was impossibly small and tight, and then there were his six perfect abdominals, big as oranges, leading up to a chest so huge, so muscled, so thick and powerful that I was getting hard all over again.

But my attention was drawn away from the spectacle of his amazing pecs by what was arching up from between his legs. Good God, what a cock! It looked like a third arm, it was so fat and fine and firm. The head was a deep purple and it was clear that he was about to erupt. His gaze was intense and hungry and he was gulping in deep breaths. Two huge balls hung below the giant tool, heavy with their burden. His arms, overwhelmed with brawn, hung at his side and as I watched, I could see his cock plumping and extending and then, suddenly, without him stroking it and me just standing there, he was pumping out a thick, steady stream of pearlescent cream. His whole collection of muscles tensed and bulged bigger still, if that were possible, and his load splattered against the ceiling and splashed down on us both, and the floor and walls.

He came like a fountain, so powerful I could hear him erupt. His prick launched a fat volley and his body tensed again, his hands clenched into fists, and another copious flow fountained from him, again hitting the ceiling and again dropping down on my naked form and his, thick hot drops and streams drizzling all over me.

Again and again he came, each blast as thick and powerful as the first as if his body had been holding this all in and was only now capable of thrusting it free. A dozen heavy explosions of thick cream and then another half-dozen after that, his dick swelling and receding with each release like a pump. His balls gradually decreased in size and his breathing slowed as his huge frame expended the last of his load and the whole room reeked of manscent.

I'd never felt anything like it. It was like an orgasm on top of an orgasm, the deepest and most fulfilling pleasure I ever experienced.

I felt him come in me and something seemed to snap, and I lost control for the first time in a long time. I was pushed beyond some inner wall and my body responded by exploding with muscle—more even than I had ever managed to grow on my own.

I could feel it so deep and true, my newfound size. I was exploding with power, my muscles suddenly shoving against each other for room and expanding fatter and harder, superheated and supercharged. My dick felt tight and heavy as it suddenly extended and swelled inches more than it ever had. I knew I was becoming someone vast and amazing, bigger and stronger than anyone else had ever been.

He pulled out of me and I continued to expand, straightening slowly as I felt the heat and power dissipate and sink deep inside me. I looked down at my huge body and felt a rush of sexuality and an erotic thrill that coursed and pulsed inside like a living thing that seemed to gather my newfound masculine power into a glowing white hot ball and deliver it to my cock.

I turned around and saw him there, sweating and panting, his eyes round and his dick wet and slick. I don't know what I looked like to him, but I could see on his face both his astonishment and wonder and thrill at seeing me and what I had become—was still becoming.

That electric shock of male force was building and building. I felt strength on top of strength, my arms now so huge that I was uncertain I could lift them, my chest nearly too large to see beyond. Everything tingled and throbbed and that power, my power, my ultimate power, was surging up my huge prick and I was erupting, feeling an orgasmic rush so deep and hard and true that the house shook with it. I was blinded by it, feeling something as powerful as I now was gushing from me like fireworks.

I came and I came and I came. I came all over the fucking place. I was a fountain, a volcano, a fucking fire hydrant gushing power and strength out of my dick in thick, full floods of hot cream.

Something was happening.

This time, it felt different. My growth. It felt… stronger. Deeper. More complete or something. I mean, when I grew previously it was always after a treatment. I had never spontaneously just grown like this, so I suppose I could concentrate on that feeling rather than the pain that I usually felt.

That was it! No pain! I had felt no pain this time, only that surging heat and tight stretching feeling all over. My muscles felt like they were getting one hell of a work-out and my whole body—my whole being—felt energized, like a guitar string being plucked or a drumhead being beaten. This sort of humming, throbbing, vibration was moving all through me and I could feel myself getting bigger than ever.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was cum everywhere. I mean, I knew that's what I'd been doing. I just couldn't stop myself, and didn't want to anyway because it felt so fucking great! But seeing it now, in thick strings dripping off the walls and ceiling, and coating my stunned patron's naked bod, I was shocked. How much had I pumped out, anyway? It looked like gallons! It was everywhere, on his furniture and the pictures on the walls and his rug and, well, fucking everywhere. The place smelled… like me. Deeply funky and sexy and masculine, if I do say so myself. My dick was still pulsing in my grip, even if I wasn't pumping any more cream. It felt hard as steel in my hands, slick with cum and red and hot. Finger-thick veins pulsed along its inches, and it had to be two feet high if it was an inch.

I felt slightly restricted and it soon became apparent why. As I tried to straighten, my head brushed the ceiling. The ten-foot ceiling! This was not in the books. Getting this big—bigger than ever, in other words, meant that I either had to go out and wander the neighborhood butt nekkid or stay overnight at this dude's place so I could fit back in my clothes tomorrow morning.

From the look of him, I didn't think he would exactly kick me out on my ass. My firm, muscle-packed, bubble-butt ass.

I had to smile. I had to laugh. I had this giddy, slightly silly feeling inside like a kid on Christmas morning. I looked down at my newly grown body and nearly started coming all over again. My pecs jutted out thick and massive. Fuck, I wanted a mirror right then. I wanted to see what he was seeing, this guy across from me coating with my cream. Looking at him, meeting his gaze, I saw a reflection of what I must look like, how amazing and powerful I was now. Bigger than ever, bigger than anyone, bigger than possible. I felt like I needed to say something, but looking around, and at him, and the fucking mess I made of his place, all I could think to say was, “Sorry, dude.”

My voice surprised me. I suppose my vocal cords had stretched along with the rest of me, so my tone was low and deep and resonant from my fucking huge chest. I sounded like a record on slow, like back when they still made vinyl albums. I laughed again because of the sound, and my laughter was a deep rumble. It all sounded weird to me. I wondered how it sounded to him.

From the looks of his dick—which only a second ago was limp—I thought he was pretty much enjoying this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckety, fuck! That voice! It passed through me and shook the walls. He said, `Sorry, dude,' and it pulsed in my head. He was licking my cock with that voice, he was stroking me hard and firm and full. He smiled and his face, his beautiful amazing face, changed and became something godlike and immortal. Whatever the fuck had just happened, whatever I just watched, apparently this wasn't in the play book.

I said, “S'okay,” just out of rote. I mean, what was I gonna do, go apeshit? He could fucking break me in two with his pinkies! The man was… was… well, what eth fuck was he, now? Gigantic? Yes. Mammoth? Of course. But more than that, he seemed more masculine and deeply powerful, as if something was emanating out from him, some force of male muscular supremacy I wanted to drown inside. He couldn't even straighten up, and I watched him move to sit on the floor, watching his amazing collection of brawn twist and flex and bulge under his clean and beautiful skin. He seemed to find it all amusing because he kept up this low rumbling laughter.

Finally, as he settled on his butt and crossed his massive legs (how the fuck can he even bend so much fat brawn?) I said, “Are you all right?” I mean, he certainly looked pretty fucking all right, but what the hell else was I supposed to say to this guy?

He nodded and started to move his hands across the vast contours of muscle that now covered his body. He grasped a heavy pec and then tensed it and it bulged so fat it was like it doubled in size. He rubbed his thumb on the nipple and his cock pulsed and jumped in instant response. “Oh yeah,” he answered, “I'm good.” He looked across at me and then around the room. “Look, uh, forget the charge, okay? No charge. I think you'll need it for the cleaning bill.”

Then I laughed. “No shit. I guess this isn't part of the usual package?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just something extra.” He tilted his head, his hands still feeling up the new dimensions of his bod. He caressed the ripples of his tight belly. He rubbed the rounded mass of a tricep. He bulged his bicep into full glory and it was as big as a football. “Damn,” he said softly.

I could hardly believe my eyes. Had anyone ever seen something like this? Had there ecer been a man so huge, so powerful, so utterly beautiful before? He had to be over ten feet high, now. God knew how much he weighed. The measuring tape would be useless, it only stretched so far. The guy's chest looked like a small car, with the plumpest, juiciest headlights pointing at the floor. His grin never failed as he explored himself, his touch settling finally on the fat length of meat between his legs, still shiny and moist from his huge load. “What… um…” He looked up. His eyes were electric, his gaze fierce and direct, that smile made his face luminous and gorgeous. “What happens now?”

He huffed out a breathy laugh and a low rumble shook the room. “I guess I'm yours for the night, if that's okay.”

“Fuck, yeah, Titan! I mean, yes, no problem.”



“Name's Ted. Titan's just for…” He shrugged his mountain range.

I told him my name, which was totally against the rules. But the fantasy was over, wasn't it? This was beyond the show, now. Something had happened and I wasn't going to fuck around with bullshit. He didn't exactly look disappointed with the situation, and what could it hurt, anyway?

I was beyond huge, even beyond motherfuckin' huge. I was off the scale. I literally couldn't fit inside the guy's pad. Two things were on my mind at that point. One, I couldn't wait for Jason and I to get together. He wasn't into the growth thing, usually, not like my clients. But I know he still got off on it, and I couldn't wait to see his reaction to the bigger me—and to fuck him silly. That was the other thing on my mind. Sure, I'd just blown a load so full and rich and bursting that the place was dripping with it, but I already could feel another load building. My cock was tingling and throbbing, my balls itched with the weight of my need and my whole body was hot and pulsing.

I looked at the guy, standing there still in shock, and I wanted to do him bad. Or have him do me again. Either way, this night was far from over.

I found myself grinning in a most lecherous fashion. My breath was hot and deep and pure, filling my lungs with the scent of my sex. I licked my lips and heard myself say—

“Let's fuck.”

He said it just like that, the muscled giant in my living room. He growled the words in his earth-shaking tones and they resounded through my whole body.

Ted the Titan. He was naked and huge and beautiful. His gargantuan body, overwhelmed with muscle, began moving toward me with slow, sensual grace. Every cable of muscle, every fiber, stretched and flexed and bulged under his skin as he moved. His eyes were feral, his need like a presence in the room that overwhelmed everything, like heat that drenched me.

I was scared. As he approached, his true size became more and more apparent. He seemed to be still growing, but I knew that was an illusion. The truth was more fantastic than that, the truth was that he was bigger than I thought he was. His shoulders stretched wider and wider as he crawled toward me. His arms bulged with fat wedges and balls of brawn, twisting and flexing around each other for space. His chest was two huge globes hanging mammoth with power, the nipples like small dicks planted in the round glory of his pecs.

He was a tiger or a lion or a bear—of course! He was a bear, huge and menacing, muscular and furry. His arms could crush me. His prick would rip me in two. He had enough cum in his heavy balls to drown me utterly.

Holy fucking God, I wanted him so bad.

I could see it on his face. He was scared of me. OK, that wasn't an unusual situation for me. Sometimes guys didn't really know what it meant to have a Grower as big as me when I maxed out. Now I was bigger than ever. Even I didn't know how this was going to work out. I mean, Jesus. I had an arm between my legs!

I wasn't thinking with my brain, though. You know how that goes, you've been there. You get a need and you want it fulfilled. We were both naked, we were both hard, we wanted each other—you can tell, right? I mean, there's the hard dick but, shit, the guy was practically salivating.

I came toward him slowly. I could feel my own weight, now, my hugeness and my… vastness, I guess. I could see my bigger shoulders bunch and flex as I moved on all fours toward him. I stretched myself along his floor, I moved low like I was approaching an animal I didn't want to spook. I looked at his body, his fine firm muscles, he spent time at the gym and he had a swimmer's build, it's called. Smooth and fine and every muscle visible, but not huge like me. Not bulging.

I wanted to lick his whole body, stem to stern. I wanted to eat his ass out and pull his balls inside my mouth and suck on them like candy. I wanted to plant my prick up his tight hole and feel him contract against my hardness. I wanted to wrap him inside my arms, hold him inside and kiss his mouth, slide my tongue inside and let him taste his own ass.

I wanted to swallow him. I wanted him to swallow me. I wanted us together in every way.

Titan's face loomed in front of me. Even his features were oversized. So beautiful, though, and I could feel his warm, wet breath coat my skin as he leaned forward and kissed my mouth. It was as if a statue of David had come to life, oversized and hard as marble. His lips were soft but I felt his hand on my shoulder, gripping me hard, his grasp as huge as the rest of him. His thumb met my nipple and I could feel the ridges of his skin against me. Jesus God, he was huge, so fucking huge.

I was helpless, and I had never been in this position before. I felt at first I wouldn't succumb to him, thinking he would overpower me and make me his slave. That wasn't what I had wanted, I was in control of him, he was mine tonight. But something had changed the formula, and now everything was up in the air.

His kiss was needful, urgent, passionate and, well, very good. He knew how to kiss. It helped that his mouth was large, his lips full and ripe. I wondered, absently, what it would feel like to have him sucking my cock. Everything happened so fast, and I didn't have time to cover all the bases before. What did he want? And how could I fulfill his desires?

He broke the kiss and our eyes met and I was overwhelmed again. I felt insignificant in his presence, a child before a man. He licked his lips and smiled and looked down t my body, and my steel-hard prick pulsing against my belly. I was so hard it hurt. I felt like I could start pumping a load any second. He moaned or something, made a deep sound from his chest, and then said, “Can you hold on?”

Jesus! Jesus, was he really worried about that? Jesus! What about his dick piercing me and splitting me open? What about me choking to death on his massive prick? Or drowning when his next huge load fountained out of him? But all I did was nod. I was scared and excited and felt like I was in a dream of some kind. He was so big! So fucking big!

He was trembling. I felt it when we kissed. Was it excitement or fear? Probably both. My hand could hold half his torso. I could feel his muscles moving in my palm. He was sticky from my cum and smelled funky and fuckworthy. My inner pig was coming out and I could hardly wait to go at him—all of him.

I looked down at his dick and it looked angry, red and ready to spit. I asked him to hold on, because I wanted that thing in my mouth. But I had other things to attend to first.

The boy needed a tongue bath, and luckily my tongue was big enough to finish fast. I started on his chest, pressing my mouth against him and them letting my tongue, hot and wet, drag across his skin. He shuddered and I felt as well as heard him groan. I licked across his skin, tasting my salty seed still there, and pushed my tongue into his pit. He was rank with sweat and tasted like a man. I moved my mouth across his torso and his tight belly, then I asked him to turn around and I started on his back, and then lower.

Mmm, he was fragrant and salty everywhere. I shoved my tongue between his ass cheeks like a pliable, horny dick and he bent and opened himself to me. His back bloomed with muscle as he arched it and his rosy hole practically dripped.

He had a hairy ass and I licked him all over, then pushed inside and began to eat his firm little butt, practically trying to crawl inside. Man, I needed him bad. I could feel that need like a fire inside. I started to slurp and lick and grabbed him so I could get up in there.

Ted was fucking me with his tongue. That's exactly what it felt like. It was hot. Jesus it felt good. I wanted to cum so bad, I could feel myself at the edge of it so I grabbed my balls and tugged hard. His tongue, his huge tongue, dragged its wetness across my hand and I nearly came anyway.

I had to be careful, now. He'd grabbed his balls and his whole body went stiff. So I moved my tongue under and up between his legs and drenched his whole undercarriage with a long, hot swipe. His tastes mingled in my mouth, tangy and salty and musty. His hand moved onto his cock and he grabbed hold and held on. I kept at him, daring and teasing him. Then I turned him around quite easily—man, I was fucking strong! I moved my mouth over his hot cock and started to suck with gusto.

I had to cum! I had to cum! It was there! So much of it! I was a rocket! I was blasting before I knew it! Stars appeared in my eyes, a blackness swarmed in from somewhere, I could feel nothing but his mouth enveloping me and sucking so hard and true that it felt like he was pulling it out of me, emptying my balls, and his lips were everywhere.

He squirted a half dozen times. I swallowed it all. I wanted more.

I kept cumming even after it was all gone. I was so juiced! My load was spent but I kept pumping anyway and he kept sucking, and I wanted it to go on and on like that. But I was only human. I couldn't go on. There was too much of him, he was too much, God it was all so good.

I felt him jerking in my hands, his whole body was cumming and he kept jerking after he was spent. It didn't take long at all. I was still horny as hell. There was no way I was going to be able to plud his ass, my dick had to be 20 or 24 inches and probably 10 around! What hole would accommodate that? Even his two hands would hardly dent the thing.

All that was left was a slow, steady jerk off. So I moved off him and set back against his wall, my legs stretched out in front of me, grabbed my goober and started whacking.

His eyes bugged out. Shit, I wish there was a mirror around so I could have watched myself. What did I look like, sitting there naked and… and then he came over and, oh, Jesus, oh Jesus….

His cock was huge! Fat and firm and red. Beautiful. I love dick. I fucking love it. And here was the biggest one on the planet, and it was ready for me. So I went up to him, between his legs, and with his spit still on me, I rubbed myself against him, fucking his prick with my whole body.

I wrapped my arms around it and moved up and down it's hot, slick surface. I licked the rim of the head and kissed it and made love to that fucking cock like it was my lover. He loomed over me, huge and muscular, but I was all about the cock. It was my world. He leaned back and closed his eyes and let me do whatever I wanted his his massive manhood.

I felt him swell as I caressed it with my body and rubbed myself against it. It was like having a cock in my mouth as it cums, swelling suddenly, but it all swelled and then he was going off again and I could feel it and hear it and it rained down on me, slick and sticky and warm. His essence drenched me again. I pumped it from him and he shook with joy and satisfaction.

I wondered how long this could go on.

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