series: I Wanna Get Huge

I wanna get huge

By JayPat  Patreon
2 parts
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Part 1

“I wanna get huge,” he said.

Oh Christ, why did I open my mouth? I stepped right into it. I had no one to blame but myself. Honestly, I had just been sitting at my desk quietly studying. Finals were coming up and I had to get an A if I wanted to get my GPA up. Then my little brother Josh came bounding in, uninvited and unwelcome. It was only natural for me to ask, “What do you want?”

“I wanna get huge,” he said. He’d been doing this for months now. Any time anyone would ask the magic question “What do you want?” he always had the same answer, “I wanna get huge.” It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. He always said the same thing.

It started last summer. We were at the beach. There was some kind of bodybuilding exhibition going on. Somebody had set up a temporary stage and there were a bunch of guys up there posing. I have to admit they were all pretty hot. I’ve been very quiet about my preferences in that area, around my family anyway. So, I was a little surprised when Josh asked if we could stop and check out the display. I “reluctantly” agreed, and began to wonder if little Joshy wasn’t leaning the same direction.

I was having a good time (inwardly I was very grateful I hadn’t changed into my swimming trunks yet), but Josh had been mesmerized. “Look at the arms on that guy,” he said. And when #27 flexed and displayed a flawless peak, Josh actually gasped. “He looks like he’s got a muscle on his muscle! Are biceps supposed to do that?”

“They do if you have the right genes,” I said.

Josh flexed his arm. It was stick thin with only a slight bump of a bicep. “Do you think I have the right genes?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. No one in our family had ever gotten into body building.

“I bet I do,” he said just before his jaw dropped open. #27 was showing off his quads. “Wow, how strong is that guy?”

“He looks pretty strong to me.”

“Hell, yeah. Why aren’t you that strong?”

Number 27 was apparently eighteen years old, just a year older than me. “Because building a body like that takes a lot of time and effort and I’m way too busy with school and the debate team.”

“Fuck the debate team,” said Josh, and that was unlike him. He almost never cursed.

“Easy for you to say, bro, but I’ve got college interviews coming up this year and they’ll be a lot more impressed by the debate team then they would be with a pair of sexy arms.”

“So you think they’re sexy?”

Christ, I had to watch myself, but yes they were sexy, enormously, hugely, mind blowingly sexy. “Sure,” I said. “Girls love ‘em.”

He kept pretty quiet for the rest of the show, only letting out an occasional gasp or “whoa.”

The last guy up was a professional heavy weight, and this guy was huge. When he started posing, I thought I was going to blow my load right there in my pants. And as strongly as he was affecting me, the impact he had on my little brother was far greater. He stood there eyes bulging out of his sockets, mouth hanging open and his breath was coming in whimpers. He almost looked like he was in a trance.

“Oh my God,” he said when it was over, “was that guy even human?”

Inwardly I thought that was a good question, outwardly I said, “Yeah, he’s human.”

And then Josh said it for the first time. “I wanna get huge.”

“Sure, Josh,” I said.”

“Don’t we all.”

“No,” he said. “I wanna get huge, I mean for real.”

“Ok,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I really mean this.”

I looked at him. His jaw was set. He had a slight scowl in his eyes. He looked as determined as I’d ever seen him. “Sure Josh,” I said. “Let’s go get an ice cream.” As we walked to the stand I felt kind of sad. I knew where this was going. Josh was starting his sophomore year in the fall, and his schedule wouldn’t be any lighter than mine. He may not have been on the debate team but he was a talented saxophone player. He was in the school band, the orchestra and he was pretty good at just straight blowing. He’d have to give it all up if he wanted to take up bodybuilding and there was no way mom would ever let him do that.

We got to the stand and looked at the selection: Chocolate, Strawberry or Vanilla. I turned to Josh. “What do you want?’

“I wanna get huge,” he said.

I laughed. “Yeah. How about just picking an ice cream flavor for now?”

“Chocolate,” he said. And that’s how it started. From that day to this, whenever anyone asked Josh what he wanted, he would answer, “I wanna get huge.” At first it was funny. Then it got annoying, and finally a little scary. We all learned to phrase our questions very carefully in order to avoid those four words.

As far as Josh actually getting huge, things played out pretty much as I predicted. He joined a gym and spent most of the rest of the summer inside it. He ate right, took supplements and actually started growing some muscle. I have to admit by the time school started he was starting to look pretty good. His thin physique was beginning to disappear under a new layer of muscle.

But as soon as classes began, things started getting really busy and Josh was finding it almost impossible to get to the gym. He tried to give up the sax, and that led to a battle royal. Things were pretty ugly around our house for a while. And in the end, Josh had to give up the gym. It almost killed him to do it, but mom tried to comfort him by telling him he could take up the weight lifting again after he got out of college and was out on his own. He swore that he would.

But even though he wasn’t going to the gym anymore, he wouldn’t give up his favorite phrase. It was kind of embarrassing to go out to dinner with him, because every time a server would ask what he wanted, he would always say, “I wanna get huge.” It got so my dad would find out what he wanted in advance and then order for him.

And as Christmas approached it got even worse. Family members who weren’t aware of his strange quirk would keep asking him what he wanted. “I wanna get huge,” he would always say. There’d be an awkward silence and then someone would change the subject. My parents were convinced he was launching a psychological attack on them for making him give up the gym. But I wasn’t so sure. They hadn’t been at the bodybuilding exhibition with him. They hadn’t seen the look on his face when that professional stepped out on stage. I was pretty sure this was something more, something deeper. I was wondering if maybe he wasn’t starting to crack.

So, when he interrupted my studying on Christmas Eve, I didn’t get as angry with him as I otherwise might have. Instead I decided to try and get to the bottom of it, maybe help him out of his rut.

“I wanna get huge.”

“What do you keep saying that?” I asked. “You know you’re not going to get any serious gym time for years yet.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m going to get huge anyway.”

“Oh?” I said. “How are you going to pull that off?”

“Easy,” he said. “I asked Santa.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I asked Santa.”

“Dude, you haven’t believed in Santa since sometime in the last century.”

“I believe in him now.”

Oh boy. My studying could wait. This was getting serious. “And how exactly did you ask Santa?”

“I emailed him.”

“You emailed Santa?”

“Yup.”

“You have Santa’s email address?”

“Yup. santa.claus@northpole.org, but if you’re thinking of emailing him, forget it. The deadline is long past. He’s probably flying over Finland by now.”

“Over Finland?”

“Yup.”

“Dude, I think you better lie down.”

“You’re probably right. Santa only comes if you’re asleep.” And then he turned and walked out of my room.

Holy crap, he was gone. My little brother had finally gone round the twist. What should I do? Should I tell mom and dad? Probably, but it was Christmas Eve. Why spoil the holiday for everyone? It wasn’t like he was a danger to anyone or himself. We could deal with this next week.

I tried to put it out of my mind and go back to studying, but it was useless. In the end I wound up just going to bed, where I tossed and turned all night.

And then at the crack of dawn, Josh came running into my room. “Wake up, bro. It’s Christmas!” And then he started bouncing my mattress up and down.

“Ok, ok, Josh,” I’m getting up. It was kind of a tradition with us. Every year on Christmas we would get up before our parents and go down and give each other our gifts. I got Josh a book on bodybuilding, a present I was currently regretting.

As we made our way down the stairs, Josh made a right instead of the left that would lead us to the family room where the tree was.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll just be a sec,” he said.

I followed him into the living room—and holy crap there was an actual stocking hanging by our fireplace. I recognized it. It was his from when he was a little kid. We’d both had them, but hadn’t used them in years.

“Where did you find that?”

“Up in the attic at the bottom of a box of junk.”

Our attic wasn’t exactly organized. It must have taken him weeks to find it. I was getting more worried about him by the second.

He lifted the stocking off the fireplace and shook it. Sure enough, there was something in it. He had this look of joyful anticipation on his face like… well, like a kid on Christmas. He reached into the stocking and pulled out a small bottle. He took one look at it and cried, “Yes!” Then he unscrewed the top, shook something out of it and popped it into his mouth.

“What you got there, Josh?” I had to ask.

“Here,” he said and he handed me the small bottle. I looked at the label and almost laughed out loud. It said: HUGE PILLS. Take one every hour. Only effective Christmas Day.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “Bro, you know someone’s playing a joke on you, right? These are like candy or something.”

“No,” he said, yanking the bottle back from me. “No, they’re not.” Jeeze, he looked a little pissed. I’d better change the subject. “Well, let’s go see what you got me. I bet it’s lame.”

“Yeah? I bet it’s not half as lame as what you got me.”

Actually he got me a video game I’d been wanting, and he seemed pretty happy with the book I got him. There was a pretty huge body builder on the cover doing a double bi.

“Look at those arms,” said Josh. “I’m going to have arms just like those, maybe bigger.”

“Sure,” I said. “Someday.”

“No,” he said. “Not someday. Today.”

I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “Right.”

“No, I’m not kidding,” he said. “Check it out.” He pulled back his sleeve and flexed, and whoa, there was some muscle there. I guess his summer time gains hadn’t faded yet.

“I’m growing, bro. I can feel it.”

Jeesh, I was wondering if we were going to get through the holiday without someone else noticing that Josh had flipped his lid. “Sure you are. Let’s go get some food.”

“Great idea,” he said. “I’m starving.”

We went into the kitchen for our annual Christmas morning refrigerator raid. I opened the door and peered in. “Looks like we’ve got some left over chicken, some steak, or I could fry up some eggs. What do you want?”

Oh shit! I asked the question. And with him being so weird this morning. Would I never learn?

“I’ll take all of it,” he said.

“What?” I asked, hardly daring to believe my ears. Where was the undying answer?

“I’m really hungry. I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“You don’t wanna—?” I asked, unable to believe I was prompting him.

“Get huge?” he said grinning.

“Well, yeah.”

“I don’t have to say it any more, ’cause I’m getting huge.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. I almost found my self missing the usual answer. It seemed far less insane than this one.

“No, I am,” he said, standing up. “Check it out.”

I had to look twice. Holy crap, he was taller than me. When did he get taller than me? I mean, I wasn’t a giant or anything, only about five nine, but I still had an inch on him at least. Or I thought I did. I knew he’d eventually catch me, maybe pass me, but I didn’t see it coming.

He saw the look on my face and said, “See? What’d I tell you?” Then he looked up at the clock. “Oops, time for another one.” Then he opened that bottle and popped another pill into his mouth. “They’re actually pretty tasty.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure.” I was definately feeling a little confused at this point. The idea that he was actually growing from those things was ridiculous. So I put it out of my mind and started dishing out the food.

Josh ate like I’d never seen him eat. If he kept up like that there wouldn’t be anything left for mom and dad when they got up. I mean I had a couple of pieces of left over chicken, but he had all the rest of it, plus the left over steaks and a dozen eggs I cooked up for him.

When he finished the eggs he smiled and said, “That hit the spot.” The he started rubbing his chest through his sleep shirt. “Man, I’m itchy.” Then he reached behind himself, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it off over his head. HOLY CRAP! He was ripped to shreds! I mean this went way beyond a little left over summer muscle. He had a solid six pack, well defined pecs, and a set of broad shoulders, sitting on top of biceps that seemed way bigger than the one he showed me earlier.

“Oh yeah,” he said, flexing his arms and admiring them. “I’m loving this.”

“Jesus,” I said, “You’ve been hitting the gym in secret.” That had to be it. “Mom and dad are going to freak when they find out.”

“No,” he said. “It’s the pills, really.”

“I don’t buy that for a second, and neither will they.”

“Yeah, they will. They’ll have to… at the end of the day… when I’m huge.”

“You seriously think you’re going to get bigger?”

“Oh yeah, dude, a lot bigger. The bottle’s full of pills and I’ve only had two.” He flexed and man, that bicep, it was big, round and solid looking. “That’s pretty cool,” he said, feeling his own arm. “Bro, would you mind turning up the heat. It’s a little cold in here and I think I’m gonna go shirtless the rest of the day. I want to see every inch of me as I bulk up.”

“Turn it up yourself,” I said.

“No, dude,” he said, standing up. Holy Christ, he was even taller, I’d swear he was. Now he seemed to be at least two inches taller than me. And with all the muscle, he just seemed gigantic. He walked over to me, bumping me with his hard, bare pecs and said, “I think you want to do it for me.”

Christ, he was bullying me. Weather it was pills or secret gym visits, Josh was larger and stronger than me now, no question. And he wanted to make absolutely sure that I knew it.

“I bet you’re rethinking the whole debate team thing now, aren’t you?” he said. “I know I would be.”

“Are you going to beat me up, Josh? Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No, dude, just making a point. I’ll get the heat.” Then he turned and walked over to the thermostat and adjusted it. He squinted and looked at the read out. “Jeeze, is that the time? I’d better pop number three.” He opened the bottle and swallowed another one of the pills. He ran his hand over his broad chest and his cut abs and said, “Oh man, having muscles is so fucking hot.” Then he grabbed his cock through his sleep pants and winked at me. “I think I need a shower,” he said as he rolled from the room. What was going on? Josh didn’t curse like that or make crude gestures. Even his walk was different.

Crap, I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly my little brother was so different. He still scared me but for completely different reasons. What was he trying to say with his little power play, that I made a mistake choosing to develop my mind instead of my body? Was that really the way he felt?

I looked down at myself. I was pretty skinny, even a little flabby. Maybe I should put some effort into getting in shape.

And then suddenly mom and dad breezed into the room. “Morning,” they said. “How did the Christmas morning snack fest go?”

“Ahhhhh….”

Mom pulled open the fridge and gasped. “Where’d all the food go?”

“We ate it.”

“Very funny. Where did you hide it?”

“No, seriously, Josh ate most of it.”

My Dad sighed. “That kid is really trying my patients, and now he’s roped you into helping him.”

“No, dad, really. Josh ate it. He’s really is getting kind of big.”

“Don’t you start,” said mom.

“Look, he’s in the shower now. He’ll be down in a few minutes; then you’ll see. But, you know, don’t freak or anything.”

“You’re brother has yet to make me freak,” said my mom, “although he’s come close a couple of times. Why is it so hot in here?”

Mom dipped into the fridge and somehow managed to find enough food to make breakfast for her and dad. They were just getting ready to eat when Josh came down, shirtless as advertised. I was the first to see him.

Now I told mom and dad not to freak and I seriously had to make an effort not to freak myself. Because now I knew beyond a doubt, something weird was happening. Josh had gotten taller again. He was at least six feet tall, now, no question. And he was no longer just cut, he was starting to bulk. And I’m not talking the fatty kind of bulk ’cause there didn’t look like there was much fat on him. His shoulders had gotten broader. Traps had started to rise out of his back behind his thickening neck. Hi pecs were looking rounder and fuller in front of him. His abs had deep crevices separating them. And his arms, even in their relaxed state were looking thick with muscle.

“Morning,” he said grinning. And he waited until mom and dad turned toward him before he performed a long elaborate stretch, showcasing every inch of his muscular torso.

Mom dropped her coffee cup. Yup, she was freaking. “My Lord, what have you done?”

“I got my wish,” he said. “Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?”

“Steroids. It has to be steroids.”

“No,” he said. “I found something much better than that.”

“Larry, say something to your son.”

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” said Josh. “It’s a win win situation from where I’m standing. I get to be huge and I don’t have to give up the sax. I don’t see your problem.”

“The problem, young man,” said my dad, “is what it’s doing to your health.”

“My heath?” he laughed. “Do I look unhealthy to you?” He flexed his arm and, Christ, his bicep looked so much larger than it did an hour ago.

“Josh, you know as well as I do,” said my dad, “there’s much more to heath than big muscles.”

“I know that,” said Josh, “but how do you know that? Look at you. You’re all intellect and no body. And here you are trying to remake me in your image. Well, maybe I don’t want to be like you. Maybe I wanna be HUGE!”

And when he shouted that last word, the effect was amazing. I’d heard my brother shout at my father before lots of times, mostly about the whole gym/sax thing. But this time it was different. It was one thing to hear a skinny five foot eight teen shouting, it was a completely different thing when the teen was the tallest guy in the room and packing some pretty impressive muscle. Now his voice commanded attention. It seemed to say, “You’d better listen to me.”

And my dad must have thought the same thing because his shoulders just slumped and he said. “Maybe you right. Maybe I don’t pay enough attention to what you want. It’s just hard for me to think of you as an individual and not my little boy.”

“I’m no one’s little boy, not any more,” said Josh, and he pulled a most muscular, and oh my God, I’d swear he gotten bigger just standing there.

“That’s obvious,” said my dad. “We’ll talk about the gym membership later. Maybe you could give up either the band or the orchestra. But I still want you to see a doctor.”

“On Christmas? Good luck,” said Josh.

“I think it can probably wait until tomorrow.”

“No problem. By tomorrow I’ll be huge and it’ll be a done deal.”

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. My brother actually got my dad to change his mind. He won. This, like, never happened. Once my parents made up their minds, that was usually that. Holy crap.

My brother moved over to his seat at the table and as he passed me he leaned over and whispered, “What do you think of my debating skills, Bro? Still think a little workout wouldn’t help?”

Damn. He was right. A commanding physical presence would definitely be an asset in a debate. It was all pretty clear to me now.

Josh ate a complete second breakfast, just packing the food down. And as he ate I watched him pretty carefully. I could see blue lines under his skin, obviously his veins. They were getting thicker and starting to protrude from his body. And his biceps… when he sat down they had pretty much been baseball size, but now, they were well on their way to softball size. Damn. He was getting bigger right in front of me. I started to wonder: how big was he going to get?

Josh finished off his meal with another one of those pills.

“What’s that?” asked my dad.

“Nothing,” said Josh. “Just a gag gift somebody gave me. You know, candy.” And he showed my dad the bottle.

My dad read the label and laughed. “Very appropriate,” he said, as he gave the bottle back to Josh.

Yeah, that was one way of putting it.

Josh stood up and as he did he bumped the table, knocking it a couple of inches over and upsetting just about everything on it. “Oops,” he said. “Being huge is going to take some getting used to.” Then he did another one of his full body stretches. Damn, his abs were just leaping out of his stomach.

“I’d say it was time to open some presents,” said Josh. “How about a piggy back ride?” he asked me.

Another one of our traditions had been the piggy back ride from the breakfast table to the Christmas tree. But I hadn’t given Josh one of those in years. And looking at him now… forget it.

“Josh, there’s no way I could—”

He interrupted me with a laugh. “No, dude, this time it’s on me.”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Oh come on, sweetie,” said my mom. “Let him do it. It’ll be cute.”

Josh turned around and bent his knees a little giving me a full view of his back and cute was the last word that would’ve entered my mind. Every single muscle in his back was ripped and bulging. I swallowed hard. “No, really I think I can walk.”

“I know you can walk, bro. That’s not the point.”

Yeah? What was the point?

“Oh wait. Let me get the camera,” said my mom and she dashed out of the room. My fate was sealed.

I wrapped my arms over his swollen traps and around his thick neck, clasping my hands together across his round heaving pecs. He was like steel, every bulging inch of him. This was not the kid who got me out of bed this morning; it just wasn’t. When he stood up straight, I realized just how tall he was. He had passed the six foot mark without a doubt.

“Dude,” he said, bouncing me up and down, you really gotta eat more. You’re starting to feel a little… unsubstantial.”

Unsubstantial? What was that supposed to mean?

I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Josh, I get it. You’re bigger than me. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in my face.”

He paused for a minute while mom took her pictures, then he started for the family room. As soon as we were alone, he said, “Dude, the only reason I’m bigger than you is I wanted it bad enough. You could be big, too, but you gotta need it, like you need your next breath.”

Then he set me down by the tree, and left me to ponder his words.

The gift opening went pretty smoothly until the end. We left the largest boxes for last and appropriately enough they were both for Josh. He leaned over to pick up a long flattish one.

“Oh, no, honey don’t—” said my mom, but it was too late. Josh had picked it up and was shaking it. “—you’ll hurt yourself,” she trailed off. Suddenly the box broke and a round metal weight crashed through the wrapping paper and fell to the floor.

“Cool,” said Josh. “A weight set.” Then he started curling the box. Man, sometime in the last hour his biceps had passed softball size. Look at them bulging out of his arms covered in veins. Damn, his whole body seemed thicker. His lats were spreading out behind him. While we were opening gifts he had obtained that V shape. He did about a dozen reps before he set the box down.

“We thought a home weight set would be a happy compromise,” said my dad.

“Thanks, dad,” sad Josh ripping open the second large box. It was a weight bench. “But those weights… I’m probably going to need some bigger ones, and an Olympic size bar too. Maybe you could take the others back?”

“Sure, I guess we could.” Then mom gathered up all the torn wrapping paper and dad excused himself. I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. I ripped back the paper on the weight set. Holy crap. It was supposed to have 250 pounds of weights in it. Minus the ten pounder that fell out, that meant Josh had been curling 240 pounds for reps. Damn.

Mom bundled the debris into a trash back and hustled it out of the room. Josh looked over my shoulder at the weight box and laughed.

“250 pounds? Fuck, that felt like nothing.” He swallowed another one of his pills. “Dude, when this is done, I’m going to so much more than huge. I’m going to be gigantic. I can feel it. And you get to watch it happen, inch by inch by inch.” Then he treated me to a short bit of posing. Christ, he looked completely pumped. He was bodybuilder size now. Every bit as big as the amateurs we’d seen at the exhibition that summer. I remember how impressed he’d been with #27’s legs. Even through his sweats I could tell his legs were now bigger, and I think he was taller too.

And when he flexed his bis, damn if they didn’t have split heads and peaks, peaks that weren’t there when he’d flexed at breakfast.

“Shit, bro, I can’t tell you how good this feels,” he said, admiring his arms. “I feel so fucking hot,” he said, rubbing his bulging bicep. “If you only knew—” Jeeze, he was starting to get to me, because I was starting to want to know.

Then he hoisted up the box with the weight bench. “I’m going to set this up in the garage,” he said. Then he turned and walked easily from the room.

I leaned over to get a better look at the weight set. Maybe it really wasn’t 250 pounds. I grabbed the box to turn it on its side, but I could hardly move it. If I put everything I had into it I could slide it across the floor, but that was it. Crap. I couldn’t believe it. How strong was Josh?

Then I heard the sound of voices from the driveway. I looked out the window and saw Josh talking to Will Jansen. He must be home from college for the holiday. Will was our next door neighbor. He was a couple of years older than me and I’d had a crush on him since I was old enough to have a crush on anyone. He was about six feet tall with light brown hair, chiseled features, and amazing blue/green eyes. He’d had a pretty good build in high school ’cause he played soccer, but now he was looking a little small. Then I suddenly realized he looked small because he was standing next to Josh. My little brother was taller and broader than him. He was out there stuffed into a hoody. It was one of his, but it was obviously way too small for him now. His wrists were sticking out of the sleeves and the bottom row of his six pack was clearly visible, not to mention all that muscle bulging up through the fabric.

I cracked the window so I could hear better. I had to know what they were saying.

“I can’t believe you’re little Josh,” said Will. “It seems like only yesterday you were a scrawny little kid.”

“Yeah, it does seem like that, doesn’t it?” grinned Josh.

“How much are you benching?” he asked.

Josh looked puzzled for a minute before he just shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can curl 250 pretty easy.”

“No shit.”

Then Josh flexed, and his magnificent bicep erupted from his arm, stretching his sleeve.

“Dude,” gasped Will. And I recognized the look on his face. It was lust. I think Josh noticed too.

“You want to feel it?” he asked.

For an answer, Will stuck his hand out and squeezed it. “Oh fuck,” he whispered.

“Hey, I’m about to set my new bench up in the garage,” said Josh. “You want to help?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Will and then the two of them disappeared into the garage.

I jumped up, got dressed, pulled on my coat and ran outside. I went to the side of the garage and quietly as I could peeked into the window.

The bench was mostly set up and Josh and Will were naked on top of it. Will was on the bench, lying on his stomach—he was as beautiful as I knew he would be—and Josh was looming over him, moving up and down with a slow rhythmic motion.

Christ, it was one of my midnight fantasies, my fantasy that my little brother was living out. Only he wasn’t exactly my little brother anymore. Just looking at the enormous horseshoe popping out of the back of his arm as he pushed himself up and down, and those ponderous pecs flaring out in front of him, and his perfect bubble butt and—holy crap, Josh’s cock had gotten just as mammoth as the rest of him.

I could hear Will yelling, “Yes, Josh, that’s it. Harder, further. I can take it.”

Damn. I was suddenly so fucking hard, I had to get out of there. I ran into the bathroom, ripped off my clothes and jumped into the shower. In a second I had exploded all over the shower wall. I stood there trying to catch my breath, and trying not to think about what was going on in the garage. But it was useless. Five minutes later I was blowing another load.

I left the shower about a half an hour later feeling completely drained. I walked back to my room and looked out the window just in time to see Will leave the garage with a big smile on his face.

I waited patiently for Josh to come in, but a half an hour passed and there was no sign of him.

“We’re going over to Aunt Sally’s,” called my mom, “But you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Good, ’cause I didn’t want to. And then they were gone. I waited another half hour but then I had to see what Josh was doing out there.

I pulled on my jacket and went out to the garage. It had started snowing, pretty hard. As I paused outside, I could hear the clanking of metal mixed with Josh’s guttural grunts. What was he doing? Was he working out? That 250 pounds couldn’t be anything to him.

I pulled open the door and just stopped in my tracks. There was Josh, lying on the bench. It looked ridiculously small for him, like only a small central strip of his massive back was supported, while the rest of him was hanging off the edges. His arms, damn, his arms were so huge, they could have easily have been mistaken for someone legs. And they were pumping up and down, up and down as they bench pressed our snow blower. Damn that thing was so heavy that even though it was on wheels I couldn’t move it unless the motor was running. It had to be seven or eight hundred pounds easy.

“Holy shit,” I said. It was the understatement of the decade.

Josh mush have heard me because he tossed the bower into the air and caught it in his arms as he sat up. He sat up with the blower cradled in his arms. How the hell could he do that?

“Hey, bro,” he said, “I was just thinking about you.” Without getting up, he set the snow blower on the ground next to him. “Will was just here. You remember Will, don’t you?”

Fuck, he was massive. My brother was massive. That hoody was stretched to its limits. Already the cloth had been stretched so thin in places—like around his shoulders and biceps—that you could clearly see his skin underneath. His giant pecs had forced the front zipper down about half way. You couldn’t close that thing now if your life depended on it.

“Yeah, I remember Will,” I said, swallowing. “How is he?”

“Oh, he’s a lot better now.”

“Oh?” I tried to sound disinterested.

“Cut the crap, bro. I’m on to you. I’ve been on to you for years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are so pathetic,” he said. “I’ve seen you drooling after Will since you were in the eighth grade.”

“What?”

“I thought you might finally tell me last summer at the exhibition, but you were too chicken shit to do it then either. Even though it had to be pretty fucking obvious I swung the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, the only difference is that I told mom and dad a year ago. And you know what? They were ok with it. They just wanted me to hold off telling you until you had left for college, you know, in case you didn’t take it well. I almost told them about you right then, but I didn’t.”

“You knew?”

“For years, bro, for years. And the truly pathetic part is you love this body.” And then he stood up. HOLY CRAP! He was a least 6’ 5” or 6’ 6”, and he was so wide, it was a good thing we had a two car garage. He flexed those mighty guns of his and the hoody just couldn’t take it anymore. It split apart releasing those swelling mounds of rock hard flesh into the open. “Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah,” he said, grinning at his monstrous biceps, and then he flexed his pecs and the zipper was pushed all the way to the bottom and the hoody pulled open wide, revealing a mountain range of abs. Then he started clenching and unclenching his stomach, making his gargantuan abs swell and pop out at me.

“You’d love to have a body just like this, wouldn’t you?”

I didn’t know what it was, but suddenly I couldn’t speak.

“Don’t deny it. Not now.”

“Yes,” I finally gasped. “I’d love a body like that.”

“You could have one,” he said. “But you can’t be chicken shit about it. You have to fight for it. Go to the gym, ease up on the debate team stuff. If mom and dad try to stop you, don’t let ’em. Don’t be chicken shit.”

“I’m not chicken shit.”

“Yes you are. You’ve been chicken shit your whole life. Mom and dad walk all over you. You don’t even know who you are, what you want. Otherwise you’d be the one standing here bulging all over with muscle. You’d be the one going over to Will’s tonight after his parents go out. It’d be you. But it’s not, and it’s because you’re chicken shit.”

Holy crap, he was right. Could I really be that much of a loser?

“Hey, bro,” he said, his voice suddenly coming a lot softer, “I hate to be so hard on you it’s just that I don’t like seeing you so unhappy.”

“What can I do,” I said.

“You want some advice?” he asked. “Be true to yourself, go after what you want, and the rest is bullshit.”

Then he pulled the remains of his hoody around him. “Sorry, dude, I’d love to stay and talk some more, but I gotta get going. Will is waiting.” Then he left.

I sat there in the garage for a few minutes just looking at the bench, the snow blower and all the other junk.

Then I got up and went back into the house to wait for mom and dad to get home. When they did, I had something to tell them.

When the moment came, I didn’t really feel all that brave doing it, because my little brother had already blazed the trail, and I was pretty much assured there wouldn’t be hysterics. And there weren’t.

The storm continued into the night. We were probably going to be snowed in the next day. That was ok, I had a pretty good idea who would be really good with the snow blower.

I waited up for Josh to come home. He finally did about 11:45. He was wrapped in a quilt. I guess it was the only thing that would cover him at this point. He had to be close to seven feet tall. He had to bend his head and twist to get in through the door. And as he was squeezing through, I could hear the door frame creaking in protest. His muscles were beyond anything I’d ever imagined. No one could possibly be as big as my little bro. He had arms like tree trunks, his chest, two massive striated mounds. He legs were was wide around as two grown men.

He stood there towering over me, dwarfing me with his ponderous mass. I felt like a child confronting an elephant. He took a step into the room and the whole house shook. He pratically filled the room all by himself. He took another step in, looked down at me and then stopped short.

“Hey, bro,” he said, grinning. “Almost didn’t see you down there. Glad you’re still up. What do you think? I turned out pretty good, didn’t I?” He put his hands on his hips and made his lats flair out wide and suddenly we had wall to wall Josh.

“Jeeze, Josh, You did it. You’re freakin’ huge.”

“No, dude, I’m fucking gigantic. Those guys we saw posing last summer? I thought they were so hot.” He laughed. “They’re like little girls next to me now.” He flexed his arm and his bicep exploded out of him, a tremendous mass of rippling, bulging, sinew the size of a football helmet covered by thick ropey veins, with a peak as big as both my fists put together. “Oh man,” he said, “seein that never gets old.” My heart practically stopped. “And it feels awesome,” he said, “so much better than I imagined. Dude, you wouldn’t believe how strong I am.” Then he leaned over and licked his peak, before he let his arm drop to his side. Christ, I felt the wind of it.

“You were out late,” I said, suddenly finding my voice again.

“Yeah, a snow plow broke down out front. It needed a tow. Made a good workout. Kind of cold, though.”

“I told them,” I said.

“And—?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good for you, bro. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

“I know.” I reached up and I gave him a hug. Jeeze, forget about getting my arms around him, it was like hugging a cement wall.

“Well,” he said when we parted. “It’s almost midnight.” He pulled out the pill bottle and shook it. “Still four left.”

“Since they’re only good on Christmas Day, how about letting me have a couple?”

“I could, bro, but to you they’d only be candy.” Then he shrugged. Jeeze, I felt the wind of that, too. “I think I’m big enough. Here,” he said handing me the bottle. “But you’ve still got a long way to go before they’ll do any good.”

I took the bottle and briefly contemplated swallowing them all in one gulp. But instead I put them in my pocket. “Maybe by next Christmas,” I said.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Maybe by then.”

The next day, after a trip to the tailor, we took Josh to the doctor. He had topped off at 6’ 11” and he weighed five hundred and twelve pounds. No one could explain his growth. However all the doctors agreed he was in perfect heath, in fact they couldn’t believe how good his health was.

The first day back at school, Josh was all anybody talked about. I got bombarded with questions which mostly I side stepped. I finally escaped down to the cafeteria for lunch only to have my best friend Sean, sit down next to me.

“So, what’s the deal with your bro?” he asked.

“He grew,” I said.

“Damn right, he grew. They can’t figure out if they should put him on the football team, the basketball team or make him his own team.”

“Change the subject,” I said.

“Why?” He asked.

“I’ve been talking about Josh all day and I’m tired of it. Change the subject.”

“Ok, he said. “Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?”

“No,” I said.

“Really?” he said. “What do you want?”

“I wanna get huge.”

(Merry Christmas!)

Part 2

I was leaning on the lockers by the front door after school, waiting for my brother Josh when I heard the commotion. I looked up just in time to see Rob Forester come tearing down the corridor full speed toward the front door. Rob was a Running Back on the football team. He was pretty built, and he liked to show it off, always wearing tight shirts so that the shape of his broad shoulders and large pecs were clearly visible. But his size and speed looked completely out of place indoors. In fact, it was kind of frightening.

The other kids, who were still hanging around, leapt to get out of his way. I was just about to join them when I caught sight of another figure, far bigger than Rob, running after him. Now, I thought Rob was fast, but his pursuer was faster. In less then a second, he caught up with the football player, grabbed him with one massive hand, picked him up and shoved him up against the lockers. I heard a metallic crunch as the lockers bent inward.

“Where you going, Forester?” asked the massive one, who couldn’t possibly be anyone but my brother Josh. “We weren’t finished.”

“Fuck you,” said Rob.

Josh’s massive, ripped biceps barely twitched as he slammed Rob against the lockers again. There was another crash as the metal dented further. A cocky grin lit up Josh’s face as he saw the destruction he was causing.

I have to tell you it was kind of hot, the sight of the six foot tall, two hundred and twenty pound Running Back being effortlessly shoved around by my behemoth of a brother. Since Christmas, Josh had stood at six foot eleven and weighed a whopping five hundred and twelve pounds, most of it muscle. Before that he was a lot smaller—about five foot eight, one hundred thirty five pounds (but that’s another story). And ever since that amazing day when he exploded with size and muscle, he’d been having one hell of a good time showing off his mass and power. He loved it when people stared at him. And just in case they had any doubt about how much muscle he had, he’d torn the arms off of most of his specially tailored shirts, so everyone could see his enormous striated shoulders—framed by the ragged torn edges of his shirt—his inhumanly massive bis and tris, and his tree trunk forearms. Most people found it hard to concentrate when he was around. And he really got off on it.

Of course, I knew gigantic Josh shouldn’t be manhandling big Rob, but it didn’t stop me from getting a little stiff at the sight. It had been just over a month since Josh had changed and he had spent a lot of it, settling old scores. Most of the jocks in school used to rag on skinny little Josh about his saxophone and his band geek status. Sometimes they’d even shoved him around. So I guess it was only natural for him to return the favor now that he towered over the tallest of them, and had huge powerful biceps more than five times the size of any of theirs. And for some reason, Rob seemed to be his favorite victim.

A cocky grin exploded over Josh’s face as he completely eclipsed his prey with his immense bulk. He lifted a small black case and waved it in front of the frightened jock, the cords in his gigantic forearms undulating as he dangled it from one thick finger. “Now, what were you going to say about this?” I knew what was in that case; it was Josh’s saxophone.

“That the saxophone is the coolest instrument on the planet—” stuttered Rob.

“That’s right,” grinned Josh, tensing his neck and making the incredibly thick sinew bulge within it, “and what else?”

“That only the coolest people get to play it,” said Rob, swallowing hard.

“You’re doing good so far—” said Josh menacingly. “Go on.”

“The band rocks,” said Rob, like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

“And—?” prompted Josh, grinning wider, flexing his enormous pecs until a button popped off his strained shirt and hit Rob in the face.

Rob squeezed his eyes shut and spat the next few words out like he was in physical pain while he said them. “Football games are only a lame excuse for the half time band show.”

Josh eased his grip and let Rob go. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

Rob glared up at him, turned and started down the hall.

“Next time, we’re going to work a little on your sincerity,” Josh called after him. “Oh, and tomorrow tell your mom to give you a little more money for lunch. A sparrow couldn’t fill himself on five bucks. I was hungry all day.”

Rob paused for a moment. It looked like he was going to explode. But instead he just clenched his fists and kept walking down the hall. He threw me a sideways glance as he passed. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

Chuckling Josh watched him go, retrieved his button from the floor, and then walked over to me. “Mom’ll kill me if I lose any more of these,” he said popping the button into his pocket. “You ready to go, bro?” We were going to the gym.

“Did you really have to do that?” I asked.

“Oh come on, those guys gave me nonstop crap about my sax. And I know you’ve gotten your share of shit from them, too. You can’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about doing exactly what I just did.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

“Damn right. What’s wrong with a little payback? Besides, he loves it.”

“It didn’t look like that to me.”

“Oh yeah? Let me tell you something about our friend Rob Forester,” said Josh as we exited the school. We always used the front door because it was extra wide and tall and it was the only door Josh didn’t have to bend and twist to get through. “He’s gay.”

“What? Are you sure? How do you know?”

“The same way I knew about you, bro. I just do.”

I didn’t get it. I mean I’d heard about “gaydar” before, but it was obviously a sense I wasn’t born with. “So, what does that have to do with you bullying him?”

“Are you kidding? Have you ever looked at him?”

Yeah, I’d looked at him. Rob was hot, possibly the hottest guy in school. He had an amazingly cute boyish face to go with that killer body.

“I’ve been crushing on him since the first time I saw him,” said Josh. “But I knew he’d never go for me. I was just a skinny little sax player.”

“But not now,” I said.

“No,” he grinned, pausing to flex his massive arms, “not since I got my little Christmas gift.”

“I still don’t get it. Why all the rough stuff? Why don’t you just ask him out?”

“Because he’s not out yet, bro. He’s worse than you were. He’s so far in the closet he has to check his hair for moths.”

“And you’re trying to beat him out of it, is that it?”

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “You know he bones up every time I touch him.”

“Seriously?”

Josh nodded, smiling. “There’s no hiding that piece of meat. And bro, I totally bone up, too.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s only a matter of time,” said Josh. “Eventually he’ll let the front drop. I know he will.”

“Good luck with that.” I said. “But somehow I don’t think beating his affection out of him is going to work.”

“Dude, it’s called domination. And with some guys it works really well. Why else would he bone up when I shove him around?”

“If you say so,” I said to him, as we reached the gym. It was only a short walk from the school.

My parents had gotten Josh and me memberships to the gym right after New Years. Josh had given up the orchestra. And since I was a second semester senior, my collage aps were pretty much done and I could afford to ease up a little on the school work and put some effort into my new goal: getting huge. And Josh had promised to help me.

Working out with Josh was an experience. It always started while we were changing in the locker room.

“What do you want?” he would always ask me.

“I wanna get huge,” I would reply

“Come on, say it like you mean it,” he’d say.

That was easy, because I really did mean it. “I wanna get huge!”

“Now, so everyone can hear it,” he’d say.

“I WANNA GET HUGE!” I’d shout.

“So let’s go get you huge,” he’d finish, and then we’d head out into the gym.

Josh had worked out a routine for me that was pretty demanding. But he was always there to spot me when I needed it, and I needed it a lot. I wish I could have spotted him, but not yet. Someday, I planned to be every bit a big as him, but for now, with the weight he used, it would take three or four guys to spot him. For Josh’s workouts, we just loaded as many forty five pound plates onto the bar as it would hold, and then he would just start pumping out reps, his enormous pecs just flexing and rolling. I was supposed to look like I was spotting him, but I couldn’t believe anyone ever bought that. My real job was to scope out the crowds that always gathered to watch him lift, and see if anyone looked interested in more than his lifting abilities. There was always at least one, most of the time they were much older. Josh would always check them out, sometimes he’d start up a conversation, but so far he hadn’t left with anyone.

Josh was in the middle of a set of bench presses and I was in full on scoping mode when the gym door opened and Rob Forester walked in. He almost turned around and left when he saw Josh, but I was mentally willing him to stay. I think at one point I even mouthed, “don’t go.” I thought if I could just talk to him, I could clear the whole mess up, and he and Josh could stop playing games. I don’t know if it was my mental abilities or his jock pride, but instead of leaving he headed for the locker room. This was my chance.

“Josh,” I said, as he lowered the weight back onto the supports, “I gotta drain it.”

“Sure, bro. Anyone interesting?” he asked as his eyes ran over the onlookers.

“Maybe,” I said. “I’ll tell you more when I get back.”

I made a beeline for the locker room. I was in luck; besides me and Rob, it was empty. But something wasn’t right. Instead of changing for the gym, Rob was just sitting there on the bench fully clothed. Wow, he really was a looker. And I really let myself look this time. He was still in his winter jacket, but damn, his thighs were defiantly making themselves known in his jeans. And his face—light brown hair, high cheek bones and a prominent chin with a dimple no less. I found myself getting a little breathless. That’s funny, I never had before. I guess now that I knew he was gay, it changed things.

“Hey,” he said when he saw me.

“Hey,” I replied. Ok, he was talking to me, looking at me with those eyes and I was starting to lose concentration.

“I’m glad you came. I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

“You did?” I asked. “Oh. Great, that’s great, ’cause I wanted to talk to you, too.”

“I noticed,” he said, grinning.

“You did?” I repeated myself. Ok, that was the last time I was going to say that!

“I saw you staring at me, mouthing “don’t go,”” he said.

“You did?” Come on, I said to myself, you’re on the debate team. You’re a hell of a lot more articulate than this.

“Yeah, I never thought I’d get you away from that asshole brother of yours.”

“He’s not an asshole,” I said reflexively. But I was lost now. I’d started off with a clear goal, but somehow things had gotten way off track. And what’s worse, I wasn’t sure what track they had gotten on.

“Maybe not to you—” said Rob. “But anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

“You didn’t?” Ok, technically this phrase was different from the previous three, but my sense of being completely lost was just getting worse. And his amazing good looks were not helping.

“First,” he said, “I know you’re gay.”

Did everyone have this gaydar thing, but me?

“And second, I think I’m obsessed with you.”

WHAT? Did he just say what I thought he said? Suddenly the world was tumbling down around me.

“You have that cute, nerdy look that I like and now that you’ve started working out and your body’s getting all hard… Man, it’s driving me ape shit. You must have noticed me staring.”

Ah, no. Can’t say that I have.

“Well, you’re all I can think about,” he continued. “I just couldn’t go another day without saying something. I was going to say something right after school, but your fucking brother—”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. My fucking brother, what was he going to say about this? I sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said. “You must think I’m an incredible fucking wimp.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Next to my brother, everyone’s an incredible fucking wimp.”

“So, you’ll go out with me?”

Holy crap! What do I do? I mean, there was Josh to consider, but Rob was amazingly hot. And Josh could have just about anyone else he wanted. The problem was he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Rob.

“What about my brother?” I said. “I think he likes you.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said. “That thing between his legs makes it pretty fucking obvious. He does have an incredible body, I mean almost inhumanly amazing. But beside the fact that he’s an asshole, he’s too big for me. I like to be the bigger guy. I’d rather go out with you.”

Wow. He was choosing me over Josh. I mean I never would have seen that coming, not in a million years. I mean look at that face, those legs… But could I do this to Josh? No.

“I’m sorry; I don’t think it would work.”

He looked really disappointed.

“That’s too bad, he said. “But I’m not giving up. Maybe I can change your mind. Can I hug you at least?”

There wouldn’t be any harm in that, would there? “I’m kind of sweaty,” I said, a little embarrassed.

“That’s ok. I like it,” he said. He stood up and hugged me, his strong hands running up and down my back. I was pulled up against his jacket. It was warm, light and puffy with something hard underneath. By the time he pulled away I was beginning to think I was an idiot.

“Can I get your number?” He asked.

I really shouldn’t give it to him. “I don’t have anything to write with,” I said, making a lame excuse. But he had a pen and paper and suddenly I was giving him my number. I just couldn’t help myself.

In a second he was hugging me again and then he was gone out the door.

And now I had to go face Josh… What the hell was I going to say to him? He was bound to get mad. And someone the size of my brother, you didn’t really want to see mad. I decided not to mention it. I could always tell him later, if I had to.

When I got back out to the gym, Josh was spotting one of the larger lifters, who looked like he was squatting about five hundred pounds. My brother was always very good about things like that. He had very good gym etiquette.

“Was that Rob Forester I saw leaving?” he asked as I reached him. So much for not mentioning it.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was.”

His eyes lit up and he got very excited. “I know you, bro,” he said. “You said something to him, didn’t you? Did he even admit it? Or is he still in the fucking closet?”

“Ah… He’s not as closeted as you might think,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Seriously? Do you think I should ask him out?”

“Ah… maybe not,” I said. Ok, I was going to have to tell him something. I better just get it over with quickly. “He thinks you’re too big for him, and besides, I think he likes someone else.”

Josh froze, and for a second looked completely thunderstruck. I guess he never really contemplated having any competition, and the realization that he did seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks, or in his case, several tons of bricks. When he came out of it, it was like an explosion. “WHAT?” he shouted. Suddenly he grabbed me with one of his gigantic fists and lifted me up so I was looking him straight in the eye. The expression on his face was terrifying, and his bicep, bulging bigger than my head, did nothing to relieve the tension. “Who?” he demanded.

Suddenly the gym got so quiet you could hear a weight clip fall on a rubber mat. “I don’t know,” I said, lying like my life depended on it, because at this point, it probably did. “He didn’t say,” I finished, my voice cracking.

Then Josh seemed to realize where he was and what he was doing. He set me back on the floor and said, “Get changed. We’re leaving.”

In the locker room, Josh kept muttering to himself, as he dressed so violently that he tore his shirt while putting it on. “Fuck!” he shouted. “FUCK!” Then he ripped his shirt off his thick muscular back, tore it into little pieces like it was tissue paper, and threw it on the ground. Then he turned to me and shouted, “Look at me, bro! Look at me!” Then he started flexing making, his massive muscles explode with size and power. As usual he took up half the room with his football helmet sized biceps, bowling ball shoulders and twin wrecking ball pecs, hanging over those eight cinderblocks he called abs. “I’m fucking massive!” he shouted. “So fucking strong! No one in that school even comes close. Who can it be? How could he want anyone more than me?”

I was stunned and I truly, sincerely did not have an answer for him.

“It has to be someone on the football team. It has to be. I’m way bigger than any of them. I’m stronger than five of them put together. I’ll show him what a fucking bunch of wimps they are. I’ll show him.” Then he marched out of the locker room, his massive chest heaving. I finished dressing and ran after him. He left his coat behind and I didn’t care how strong he was, it was February and damn cold.

When we got home, Josh was still fuming. He almost didn’t see the package waiting on the front stoop before he stepped on it.

“What the fuck is this?” he snapped, picking it up. He gave it a quick look and then shoved it at me, almost knocking me over. “It’s for you.” I grabbed the box and just managed to keep my balance. Sometimes I think Josh lost track of just how strong he was. It kind of scared me to think what would happen if he ever completely lost control. And I’d never seen him closer to the edge than I had at the gym this afternoon I had to wait a couple of minutes while he bent and twisted and squeezed himself in through the front door. I heard the door frame creaking as usual; only this time it ended in a loud CRACK!

“FUCK!” screamed Josh. The door frame had finally broken. It had been threatening to since Christmas, and today, it finally went. Josh was having a really bad day.

I followed him in and while he was doing his best to shut the door, I opened the package in my hand. It was a gift wrapped box of chocolate flavored protein bars, and there was a card.

I thought about getting you real chocolates, but I knew you’d want to keep that hard body hard. I can still feel your solid back under my hands as we hugged this afternoon. The perfume of your sweating body haunts my nostrils and I can’t wait to see you sweat again. Only next time, not in a gym. With undying love and devotion, Rob.

“Damn!” shouted Josh. I jumped a mile. But he was just shouting at the door.

“I feel like I want to smash something!” he yelled. “If only I had that twink Rob likes, I’d break him in two! That would make me feel better. Yeah, breaking him in two.” Josh had this evil look on his face as he wrung the imaginary twink in the air with his massive fists. I watched the incredibly thick cords in his forearms writhe under his skin and for some reason I broke out in a cold sweat. I wondered if Rob would like that?

Then he looked at me, holding my card in one hand and my gift in the other. “What you got there?” he barked.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Nothing,” I said, shoving the card behind my back. “Just some protein bars.”

“Someone’s sending you protein bars?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sean.” Sean was my best friend. He’d back me up on this.

“Is that, like, flowery gift wrapping?”

“Kind of.”

“Is he gay?”

Oh boy. I was pretty sure Sean wouldn’t back me up on that. He was about as straight as they come. But I was pretty sure my life depended on this so… “Ah—yeah—”

“Jeeze, I never would have guessed it,” said Josh. “Good for you, bro. At least one of us will be getting some.”

Phew! Dodged that one.

“Is that a love note you’ve got there behind your back?”

—or not! “Yeah,” I said.

“Can I read it?”

Christ, no! “It’s private.”

“Oh come on, bro, give me a break. I’m feeling a little unloved now. I could read your note and kind of pretend Rob sent it.”

That wouldn’t take much pretending. “No, Josh, I can’t. It’s between me and Sean and he wouldn’t like it if I showed it to you.”

“He doesn’t have to know. Let me see.” He took a step forward, and I felt the house shake. If Josh really wanted to see that note, there was no force on Earth—well, maybe somewhere on Earth, but definitely no force in the immediate vicinity—that could stop him. So, I did the only thing I could think of; I crinkled it up, shoved it in my mouth and started chewing.

“What’d you do that for?” he asked, startled. “I wasn’t going to take it from you.”

“I know,” I said, feeling kind of stupid. “It’s the fiber, Bro. I’m not getting enough fiber.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re eating that piece of paper for your health?”

“Dude, eating this piece of paper will do more for my health than anything I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

Just then the door bell rang. I froze. If this was flowers, I was dead.

Josh looked at the door and scowled. I knew what he was thinking. He’d just gotten the thing closed. “Who is it?” he barked. The only answer he got was another ring from the doorbell. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed the door knob and pulled. The door didn’t come open right away. He had jammed it into the broken frame pretty good. So, with his mammoth tris almost bursting out of his skin, he gave it a big tug and the door flew open and ripped right off its hinges.

“MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” shouted Josh, standing there with the broken door in his hand.

“Hey, only my best friends get to call me that,” said a familiar voice. Fuck! It was Sean. Damn! I forgot he was coming over today. Perfect timing, perfect fucking timing.

“Am I getting you guys at a bad time?” asked Sean.

Hmmm, let me see… YES!!!!!

“No,” said Josh. “Where would you get that idea?” he asked while leaning our broken front door against the wall. “Come on in, Lover Boy.”

As soon as Josh turned away, to try and put the door back. Sean looked at me and mouthed, “Lover Boy?”

“Just go with it,” I mouthed back at him.

Sean shrugged and said, “Break out the Cokes and fire up the Xbox; I’m ready to rumble!”

“You guys are going to play video games?” asked Josh, turning his attention away from the door.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Sean.

“I don’t know,” Josh said. “I guess I could just think of better things to do.”

“Like a little home improvement?” grinned Sean, nodding at the broken door.

Josh snorted like a bull.

“Not today, Sean,” I said leading him away into the family room where the Xbox was.

“What’s up with Jumbo?” he asked.

I waited until we were out of earshot and I could hear Josh banging around trying to get the door back in place, before I told Sean the whole story.

“You told Josh WHAT?”

“Sean, I had to. It was either that or you’d be scraping me off the walls.”

“Dude, you know I’m a liberal kind of guy. You’ve been my best friend since what, fourth grade? So, you turned out to be gay. So what? I’m a twenty-first century man. I’m comfortable with my own sexuality. I can deal with that. But this… This is going a little too far.”

I looked at Sean and sighed. You know, it really was a shame he wasn’t gay. ’Cause if he was, I could really go for him. He had a great sense of humor, he was pretty good looking with a slim, athletic build at six feet tall, and we were already best friends. But life just didn’t work out that way.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll tell Josh the truth. Just do me a favor and hang around long enough to call 911.”

Just then I felt the floor shake. “He’s coming,” I said a second before Josh marched in carrying our front door under one of his massive arms.

“GOOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!” He shouted. Then he took our solid oak door in both hands and after a brief moment of tension, snapped it right in two.

“Fuck,” whispered Sean.

Then he dropped the top half to the floor and took the rest of it in his hands and shouted, “WHO DOES ROB LIKE?” Then he ripped off a chunk of the door and threw it to the ground. “WHO?” Then he tore off another piece. “WHO?” And another piece. “WHO?” and he carried on until our front door was completely reduced to splinters. Then he looked over at us.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, sniffing. “I’m just feeling a little vulnerable today. I’ll clean it up. You guys do whatever it is you were going to do.”

After a second of staring slack jawed at the rubble that used to be our front door, Sean suddenly reached over and grabbed me, wrapped his arm protectively around me, and pulled me over so my cheek was pressed hard against his chest. Then he said, “We were just going to do whatever it is two totally and completely gay guys, who are really into each other, do.”

“And what’s that?” asked Josh, a slight leer creeping onto his face.

“I don’t know,” said Sean. “Scrapbooking?”

“Scrapbooking?” echoed Josh, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.

Oh boy, this thing was seconds from falling apart. I had to act quickly if I was going to fix this. I slid out of Sean’s embrace, wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in for a kiss. As our lips met, it was warm and wet and wonderful and I realized just how much I’d always wanted to do this. Of course, tongues were out of the question. I could feel Sean tensing up as it was. I was pretty sure it was taking all his self control not to break away and run from the room. I think he might even have been about to gag. But he held it together long enough. And when we broke apart I couldn’t help feeling a little sad, because I knew it was probably the only time I’d ever get to do that.

Sean looked pale and shaky and he was looking at me like I’d just stabbed him in the back.

“That was sweet,” said Josh. “But, damn, I don’t think I can stand to be around you two right now… Plus I have to call a carpenter.” Then he thundered from the room.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” shouted Sean.

“Scrapbooking?” I answered.

“Ok, ok, I suck at being gay. But, dude, there are some lines you just don’t cross. I can see you’ve got a big problem here, a humungous muscle-bound problem. Use me as a decoy if you want, but don’t expect me to hang around for an encore.” He started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, dude. But first I’m going to find the strongest mouthwash money can buy and then drown myself in it—no offence.”

“None taken,” I said, but I’d have been lying if I’d said it didn’t hurt a little.

The next day at school Josh went on a rampage. Of course I didn’t know anything about it until after French when I was walking to lunch. I saw Rich Johnson, one of the football players, hanging by his underpants from a support beam. He had been completely debagged, of course, and hung in such a way as to give him the wedgie of all wedgies. There was a crowd gathered beneath him laughing their asses off, and the poor guy’s face was as red as the fire alarm. I’m not sure if it was embarrassment or rage, more than likely some combination of the two. He couldn’t struggle too much, because if he did, his underwear would just rip apart and send him crashing half naked to the ground. In fact, I was surprised it was holding up his beefy body as well as it was. I couldn’t help noticing he had a great pair of legs, but his tight underwear was letting everyone know he was a little small where it counted. I guess you can’t have everything—except for Josh. He had everything.

“Your brother’s a maniac,” said Alan Stockman. Of course we all knew there was only one guy in the entire school, student or teacher, who was capable of doing that to Rich. “It’s just a little payback,” I said. “What’s the big deal?”

He just raised his eyebrows and said, “You don’t know, do you?” And that’s when I heard Josh had declared open season on the football team. Apparently he’d left them hanging all over the place, like dirty laundry in a bachelor pad. And in fact, before I got to the cafeteria, I saw two more of them hanging from the various utility pipes. One of them was getting constantly sprayed with water from a broken sprinkler head—no the sprinkler head wasn’t broken; half the pipe had been ripped right off. I guess I should be used to how strong Josh was, but seeing things like that still sent shivers up my spine.

After I got my lunch and sat down, I was surprised when Sean sat down next to me. Well, at least he was still talking to me.

“Dude, wait til you hear what Derek told me.” Sean had an annoying little brother, Derek, who was in Josh’s class. He was overweight, wore glasses and might as well have been wearing a sign that said, “Pick on me.” The jocks practically lined up to have a turn at him.

“What happened to Derek?” I asked almost afraid to hear the answer. “Josh didn’t—”

“No, no, dude, nothing like that. He was at his locker when Phil Kowalski started ragging on his weight. Josh saw it and went ballistic. He grabbed Phil with one hand and shoved him into Derek’s locker.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “There’s now way Phil Kowalski could fit inside Derek’s locker. It’s not big enough.” After all, Phil was an offensive tackle.

“You mean it didn’t used to be. But now its Phil shaped. They’re going to need a can opener to get him out.”

Whoa.

“Dude, this is all my fault,” I said.

“Your fault?” came a booming voice. “What do you mean it’s your fault?”

I looked up and holy crap there was The Bull looming over me.

Hector Rodriguez, or The Bull, as everyone called him, was the former biggest guy in school. This is a guy, who even though he wasn’t quite eighteen, looked like he was over twenty. He was six foot two and had to be pushing three hundred pounds. Oh there was some fat on him, but also plenty of muscle. Basically, he was as strong as fuck, always had been. Back as far as the seventh grade, when the teachers would leave the room, he used to lift up their heavy wooden desks, and drag them across the room as a prank. These days, he was doing it with their cars. He had a lot of power and it showed. He was the best linebacker on the football team, the only one with a scholarship to play collage ball. No one got past The Bull unless he wanted them to. Which basically meant I was screwed.

“Your crazy ass brother is beating the crap out of all my buddies. Was that your idea?” roared The Bull. Suddenly my table and chair went flying as I felt myself being grabbed and hoisted up by one of his meaty fists. Hector might not have been as big as Josh but he was still plenty big enough to turn me into tomato paste.

“You know, it doesn’t really matter,” growled The Bull. “You’re his brother, so I think I’ll just pound the fuck out of you on principle.”

What the hell kind of principle was that? I was dead. I just remember looking down at my shirt and thinking that I liked it and hoped I’d be able to get the blood stains out of it later.

Then I heard a voice. “If you’ve got a problem with Josh, maybe you should take it up with him.” Holy crap, it was Sean! Sean was standing up to the Bull—for me—what an idiot!

“Yeah?” said the bull looking down at slender Sean. “Well, he’s not here. And you are. So maybe I’ll just take it up with you.” And then with the other hand, you know the one that wasn’t holding me suspended in mid air, he swatted Sean like a fly and sent him flying half way across the cafeteria.

Before I even had a chance to be shocked, another voice came bellowing across the cafeteria. “Rodriguez!” Josh shouted. Suddenly there was a stampede of kids scrambling to get out of his way, and I felt myself being dropped to the ground. The Bull looked like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. I looked for Sean and found him nearby. He wasn’t hurt.

Josh came striding into the cafeteria. He was wide enough to block out the light from the windows and tall enough that he needed to duck his head to miss the lower hanging lights. And even in this reinforced building, the floor was shaking.

“Go on, Bull, you can take him,” said one of his friends.

“Are you fucking crazy?” gulped Hector, who was actually looking a little pale as he peered up at my monolithic brother.

“Come on, Hector,” boomed Josh. “You’re big enough to pick on my scrawny big brother. How about trying someone with a little meat on his bones?” He pointed back at those epic pecs of his. “I left all your wimpy-ass teammates crying for their mommies. Let’s see what you cry for.”

The Bull just shook his head. “No way, man. I’m cool with you.”

“Come on, I’ll make you a deal. You knock me back one foot, just one foot, and I’ll let you go. You can do that, can’t you, tough guy, or are you only good at taking on stick men?”

Scrawny? Stick men? Thanks a lot, Josh.

Suddenly the Bull got down in position, and, shoulders out, he charged Josh. I think everyone in the cafeteria was holding their breath. The Bull was pretty big, and the sight of him charging wasn’t anything minor. There wasn’t a football player in the county who could stand up to that kind of force. Half way across, Hector’s foot nicked a chair and it flew up and hit the ceiling, knocking a hole in it, before it bounced off and skittered to the other side of the room.

Like everyone else in the cafeteria I just stood there frozen, waiting for the collision, wondering what the result would be. I knew Josh was strong, but fuck. This was The Bull charging.

The Bull hit Josh full force in the mid section and then—bounced off him, flying backwards several feet before he slammed into some tables, smashing them to bits.

Josh hadn’t moved an inch. He hadn’t even flinched. He just stood there laughing. “That was it? That was the great Bull? You’re fucking nothing, you know that? You’re nothing compared to this!” Then in one smooth motion, Josh grabbed his shirt and ripped it off his body, exposing his unbelievably huge, ripped muscles for everyone to see. Most of them had never seen him shirtless before, and I kind of envied them. It was kind of like seeing the Grand Canyon or a Giant Redwood for the first time; it took your breath away. Each pec was a mountain, every ab a boulder. Each and every cord and muscle was incredibly massive and visibly undulating beneath his skin. His back spread out behind him wider than most doors. Josh waited a second until some of the gasping had died down and then hit a double bi. His arms were beyond colossal. I mean I saw them practically every day and they still amazed me. One girl screamed; another fainted. And Josh loved every second of it.

The Bull scrambled out from under the pile of broken tables, and pulled himself to his feet. “You’re not fucking human,” he said, and then he tried to rush past Josh. But my brother was too quick for him. Josh shot out one massive arm with lightning speed and grabbed Hector with one hand. In another second The Bull was the one dangling in the air. “No, I’m not human,” said Josh. “I’m a fucking band geek. And now you get to go home and tell your daddy how you got the shit kicked out of you by a fucking band geek.

“And you’re not a Bull,” he continued. “You’re not even a calf. You’re a fucking little girl. Aren’t you? Aren’t you a fucking little girl?”

The Bull was speechless. He took a swing at Josh, but I think he hurt his hand more than he hurt Josh. He was helpless before the incredibly huge, densely packed muscles that erupted all over my massive brother. The Bull was helpless. I doubt he’d ever even contemplated being in a situation like this.

“Go on, say it!” shouted Josh. “Say “I’m a fucking little girl.”” Then Josh took Hector in both hands and, with Josh’s insane muscles bulging and swelling under his thin layer of skin, he lifted The Bull effortlessly over his head. “Say it!”

“I’m a fucking little girl,” whimpered The Bull.

“Louder,” demanded Josh, his deep voice resonating throughout the room.

“I’m a fucking little girl,” said The Bull, his voice cracking.

“What the fuck is this shit?”

Suddenly, everyone turned toward the door where the voice had come from. Standing there large as life and pissed as hell was Rob.

“Robby, you’re just in time,” sneered Josh. “I was just showing your little girlfriend here what a real man looks like.”

“What’s the point?” said Rob. “I’m pretty sure he’s already seen your brother.”

Oh no, please don’t.

“What?” said Josh, roughly lowering The Bull to the floor. Hector took off as soon as his feet hit the ground.

“Can’t you get it through your thick skull?” said Rob. “I don’t care how many guys you throw around. You’re. Too. Big. For. Me. I thought you’re brother would have told you.”

“But… But—” said Josh.

“Just get out of my way,” said Rob, brushing by Josh like he wasn’t there, and that was quite a feat considering how much of the room Josh took up. I was sitting at the edge of the crowd, huddled on the floor next to Sean. Rob headed straight for me. Oh fuck!

“Are you ok?” he asked, crouching down next to me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I said shakily. His deep blue eyes were looking down on me with concern and I felt all coherent thought drifting away.

“I kind of wanted to do this under better circumstances, but do you know what Saturday is?”

My mind wasn’t functioning. All I could think of was the Super Bowl had already happened and Easter was in April. “President’s Day,” I guessed.

“No,” said Rob. “It’s the fourteenth.”

“Lincoln’s birthday?” I tried again.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” he said. I could tell he was a little frustrated with me. “Anyway, I made you this.” And he pulled out of his pocket and unfolded one of the most elaborate Valentine heart’s I’d ever seen. It was made from some kind of soft cloth and actually had real lace edges. It was decorated with different heart shaped photos of me and him—Photo Shopped together. And I realized most of the pictures of me came from debate team yearbook photos, but it was clear he had gone to a lot of trouble to put this together, and I couldn’t remember anyone going to that much trouble over me before.

“Wow,” I said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll go out with me on Saturday.”

I glanced over at Josh, but he was gone. And I think it was the first time since his change I hadn’t seen, heard or felt him leave a room. Then I looked back at Rob, at that mesmerizing face, and I said, “Yeah, sure.”

Then he leaned down and kissed me, right there in the cafeteria, in front of everyone. I literally saw stars. There was even a smattering of applause. If anyone had any doubts about Rob, they were gone now.

He helped me up and over to a table. The rest of the cafeteria slowly realized that the excitement was over and went back to eating their lunches. But I was pretty sure I knew what most people were talking about.

Rob sat down across from me, stared deeply and meaningfully into my eyes for a moment, and then asked, “So, how do you feel about leather, chains and whips?”

What the fuck?

“Dude, you haven’t lived until you’ve been tied to a bed and beaten.”

“Ahhh—”

“Are you a screamer? I mean when you hurt yourself, do you scream a lot?”

“Sometimes….”

“That’s great. I love screamers. They really get me off. Glen, my ex, was a screamer. He was fucking fantastic.”

“You’re ex?”

“Yeah, Glen Fry. You remember him. He graduated last year.”

“Wasn’t he that guy who injured his back and had to spend, like, a month in traction?”

“Yeah,” Rob laughed. “That was one crazy ass night.”

“You’re not a hemophiliac or anything like that, are you?”

“Ahhh—no.”

“Good. ’cause that would be a problem.”

I have to say I was never more sorry to not be a hemophiliac in my life.

I then listened to him talk excitedly for the next twenty minutes on the amazing coloration between pain and pleasure. By the end of lunch I was considerably less excited about our date.

I spent the rest of the day split between worrying about that and worrying about what I was going to say the next time I saw Josh.

I didn’t see my brother at school the rest of the day. I thought maybe he might have been suspended for that business with the football players. But apparently no one on the team had given him away. They all swore they didn’t see who did it or couldn’t remember what happened. Of course, they weren’t doing Josh any favors, it was all their own egos, and who knows, maybe a word from Rob as well. After all, Rob knew how close Josh and I were, or at least used to be. I didn’t know how this thing was going to damage our relationship. I was pretty sure Josh wasn’t going to kill me. If he was, he would have done it right there in the cafeteria, one massacre, no waiting.

When I got home, the house was dark, but I knew Josh was there. I could hear him breathing. No need to worry about circulating the air when Josh was around. I found him sitting on the stairs, stuffed between the banister and the wall. He was still shirtless, his colossal body just rippling out in all directions. He was staring into space. I don’t think he even noticed I was there until I spoke.

“Josh?”

There was a pause and for a second I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me. “Just tell me one thing,” he said, not even looking at me. “Do you want him?”

I had to think about that for a minute. I mean, Rob was incredible looking but the whole whip-thing was kind of freaking me.

“No,” I said, and I was kind of surprised that I actually meant it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to look at me.

I opened my mouth to say yes but before I could, Josh continued. “I mean, you’re not just saying that because you’re afraid I’m going to break you into little pieces, enjoying each crack and scream as your bones break one by one?”

“Ah—” Ok, that cold sweat was making a comeback.

“Because you know I could. Easily.” One side of his mouth curled up and he twitched his enormous bis, just to make his point. It was entirely unnecessary.

“And it’s not like I haven’t been sitting here for the past hour thinking about the many different ways I could do it,” Josh continued, leaning a little more forward so he loomed over me even though he was still sitting down. “But I won’t,” he continued, straitening up. “No matter what you say, so you can tell me the truth.”

For some reason I wasn’t quite as confident about that as I was when I walked into the room. “I think Rob’s into S&M,” I said.

There was a beat. I could tell this wasn’t the answer Josh was expecting. “Seriously?” asked Josh, his eyes going wide, pushing the darkness from them. “You mean the harnesses and the whips and all that stuff?”

I nodded.

“No wonder he boned up over the rough stuff.”

“Yeah, but I think he likes to be the rougher, not the roughee and I really don’t want to be his roughee.”

“Really? Aren’t you even a little curious?” asked Josh. “Don’t you maybe want to try it?”

“No!” I said, a little amazed that he would even ask the question.

“So, can I have him?” he asked.

“Josh,” I said, unable to believe I had to say this again. “He doesn’t want you. You’re—”

“—too big for him. I know,” he finished for me. “But I’ve got an idea about that.”

“What—” I started but he cut me off.

“Just trust me on this.” He started up the stairs but then paused. “How did Sean take it?”

“Take what?”

“You and Rob.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry about Sean.”

“Why? What happened? Did you guys break up?”

“Let’s just say we have an irreconcilable difference,” I said.

“That’s too bad,” said Josh, and he hurried up the stairs to his room, the entire house shuddering with each one of his mammoth steps.

I didn’t see Josh for the rest of the week. He stayed pretty much in his room, only coming out occasionally for food and to use the bathroom. I was pretty sure he was on line. I’d pass by his door at night and catch the blue glow of his monitor from under his door. He told mom and dad he had a cold. But I knew whatever fever he had, it wasn’t caused by a virus.

Friday night, he finally emerged from his room.

“Dude,” he said, squeezing through my door and into my room. “You’ve got to help me.”

I’ve got to tell you the sight of him was a little shocking. He looked… diminished. I mean he was still inhumanly massive. He just looked a little less inhumanly massive. And it was pretty clear he hadn’t showered or shaved in days. It certainly brought out how much fuller his beard had gotten since he got mammoth.

“Jeeze Josh, you look like crap. What happened?”

“Never mind about that. I’ve got to get Rob up to Lookout Point tomorrow night. Can you help me?”

“Considering its Valentine’s Day and we have a date, Lookout Point shouldn’t be too much of a stretch. Why?”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” said Josh, and he turned to go.

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute,” I called. He paused. “Are you ok, Josh, I mean you look a little… smaller.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That was a bitch. Santa Claus was much easier. This time it really cost me, but dude, if this works, it’ll be so worth it.” He turned to go again and began squeezing himself back into the hall.

I didn’t see Josh til the next evening. He had been sleeping for almost twenty-four hours straight. But as I was waiting for Rob to come pick me up, Josh came thundering down the stairs. He was all cleaned up now and looked more like his usual gigantic self, even if he did appear a hair less gigantic.

“Glad I caught you, Dude. One more thing,” he said. “When you get up to Lookout Point, you have to get Rob out of the car.”

“Out of the car?! Josh, it’s like twenty degrees out there. How am I supposed to get him out of the car?”

“I don’t know, but you have to. If you can’t, at least get him to open a window.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ve just gotta do this for me, bro, ok?”

And then the doorbell rang. It had to be Rob.

“I’d better go,” said Josh. “If Rob sees me it could be… awkward.”

Yeah, that was one way of putting it. Josh raced up the stairs. Sometimes I wondered how the stairs took the pounding, and if one day they might give way under his massive weight like the door frame had. Of course, one day I intended to be every bit as huge as Josh. I smiled as I thought how the house wouldn’t stand a chance with two of us.

I opened the door and there stood Rob holding a small package, which he gave to me.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said, feeling a little guilty. After all, I was already pretty sure this was going to be our first and last date.

“I wanted to,” he said. “Go on, open it.”

I ripped open the paper and popped off the lid. There was some kind of a belt inside. I pulled it out and no, it wasn’t a belt. It was like a lot of belts, joined together. “Ah, it’s great,” I said. “What is it?”

“It’s a harness,” he said. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t know,” I said, dropping it back in the box like a dead thing, and setting it down on the table.

“Oh, you’ll like it,” he said. “And that’s an order.” Then he slapped me on the butt—kinda hard.

“You ready?” I asked, rubbing my butt, and nodding toward his car.

“Sure,” he said. “Why don’t you bring the harness? You know, just in case.” He winked at me.

“Ah… Sure,” I said. It would save me the problem of returning it to him later.

I’d never been on a formal kind of date with a guy before. It was surprisingly awkward. I took his hand and he walked with me down to his car and we left.

The awkwardness didn’t last too long. Rob was very easy to talk to. We went to dinner at a small Italian restaurant down town. I’d noticed it before but had never been there. When the waiter came to take our order and asked me what I wanted, I replied, “I wanna get huge.” Josh would’ve been proud. The answer was instinct to me now, as much a part of me as my left index finger.

The waiter laughed a little nervously and said, “I don’t think that’s on the menu.”

“In that case I’ll have the Chicken Florentine.”

“What was that about?” asked Rob, when the waiter left. “You wanna get huge?”

“I’m gonna be huge,” I told him. I was as certain of it as I was that night followed day.

“You mean huge, like your brother huge?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

“But isn’t that genetic? I mean, if you were going to be huge like that, wouldn’t you already be… you know, since you’re older?”

“Obviously not,” I said.

“Ok,” he said, leaning back in his chair, and apparently giving up on the subject.

“Wouldn’t you want to be huge, like Josh?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, “That would be incredible. I mean, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be that fucking powerful.”

“Josh says if you want something bad enough and you absolutely believe it will happen, and you do everything you can to make it happen, then fate will step in and take care of the rest.”

“That sounds great for some things, but I don’t think it works with genetics.”

“You didn’t spend eighteen hours watching your skinny little brother explode into a quarter ton muscle beast.”

“Yeah… What exactly happened to him?”

“I could tell you, but you’d never believe me.”

At that moment dinner arrived. It was really good. After dinner, the conversation rolled around to what it felt like to be tied up helpless, and whipped during sex. He was certain that once I tried it I’d never go back. I was certain that I’d never try it. But I didn’t say so. Instead I suggested a drive up to Lookout Point. He was only too happy to agree.

Look out point was rather large and it was a good thing, too. It was Valentine’s evening and it wasn’t like we were the only couple looking for a secluded spot to park. At one point, while we were driving around looking, Rob kind of chuckled. “You know,” he said, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say we were being followed.”

Instinctively I turned around and looked out the back. There was a car behind us, but… “It could just be another car looking for a spot.”

He shook his head. “I think this same car has been behind us since the restaurant.”

I looked again. Holy Crap! It was Sean’s car. What was he doing here? Was he following me? Why? I decided to keep quiet about it until I found out more about what was going on. “It could just be someone else at the restaurant with the same idea as us.”

“That’s probably it,” he said, and he pulled into a very nice spot overlooking the valley. He left the engine running and the heater on. He slid out of his jacket and I slid out of mine. The city lights twinkled far below us. I could hear the breeze gently blowing through the pines. Somewhere an owl hooted. I turned to him, smiled and BAM! He hit me in the face.

“FUCK! What’d you do that for?” I said rubbing my chin. I was going to be bruised for sure.

“Shut up, bitch, and learn to take it like a man!” Then suddenly he was on me, kissing me hard, wildly, roughly.

“You’re hurting me,” I said breaking away for a minute.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

“No!”

“You’ll learn to,” he said, and he was on me again. Ok, I’d already had enough. This wasn’t hot at all. The sooner I could get this over with the better. I reached over and groping, hit the window button. I couldn’t see the window come down, but I could hear the whine of the electric motor and feel the blast of cold air. And I could hear something else, too, something strange, a loud rapid flapping, like a humming bird on steroids. I guess he heard it too, because he looked up.

“What’d you open the window for?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I said as I took advantage of his distraction to sit up and get some air. The instant I did I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

“Fuck!” I yelled as my hand shot to my neck and pulled out what looked like a small golden arrow. “One of your toys?” I said waving it at Rob.

“No way,” he said, smirking. “It’s way too little, and too cute. Besides it came from out there,” he said pointing out the open window. In a sudden flash I realized that when I had sat up, I had come between him and the window. This little dart had been meant for Rob. It was just weird enough to be part of Josh’s plan, whatever it was, and I had somehow screwed it up. What was I going to do now?

Before I could think too much about it, Rob was leaning over me, putting the window back up. “No more interruptions,” he said, and then he was on top of me again. I don’t know what it was, maybe Rob’s tactics were finally getting to me, but I was starting to feel a little horny. Oh yeah, I was definitely getting a little hot and bothered and Rob wasn’t showing near enough skin for my tastes. I reached up and yanked on his shirt popping buttons, pulling it open and exposing powerful jock chest.

He looked down and grinned. “You like my power, don’t you, bitch?” I nodded and in a second he was completely out of his shirt, showing me that football sculpted body of his. Things were actually looking up.

Then, he pinned my arms to my side and suddenly I was trapped, I couldn’t move. He was way too strong for me. “You know I can do anything I want to you,” he said, “anything at all, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Actually, at this point, I really wanted to see what he had in mind. But then he reached under the seat, pulled out a leather strap and belted me with it.

“FUCK! THAT FUCKING HURT!”

“But, you want another one, don’t you?” And he hit me again!

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STOP THAT!”

He wound up to hit me again. But I reached out with my free hand and grabbed him by the wrist. I noticed my hand had gotten awfully meaty looking. It must be all the working out.

Rob sneered at my feeble attempt to block him, and went to rip his wrist away, but he couldn’t. I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me. And then… I don’t know if I felt it first or saw it first. My long shirt sleeve started filling up, like an inner tube with air, and my arms started to feel heavier. Fuck, my whole body was feeling heavier. I could feel my heart pounding, and my breath was coming faster. I saw my chest rising and falling… but it never fell back as far as it rose. It just seemed to be getting higher and higher.

“What the fuck—?” said Rob as he tentatively reached toward my shirt. Suddenly I had a kind of orgasmic seizure and I felt my whole body swell explosively and grow hard. I felt my pecs just tearing outward, ripping through the cloth, flinging buttons in all directions. Rob snatched his hand back like he’d been burnt.

“Holy shit!” he yelled.

But I was just staring at my fucking pecs. They were big and full, with the muscle fibers clearly visible beneath the skin. And they felt so fucking awesome, solid and strong. Holy crap! This was it! Finally, it was my turn.

And then I felt my sleeves growing seriously tight around my thickening arms. I could see the shape of bulging biceps, triceps and forearms swelling up and pushing out at the fabric. In seconds I could hear threads popping and ripping as the cloth flew apart and pure muscle exploded out. “Oh YES!!!!” I screamed. I was loving it. I couldn’t take my eyes off the huge cords and muscles surging all over my arm, as tearing and heaving, they reduced my sleeves to useless scraps of cloth. Opening and closing my fists I could feel the power of them, and it felt awesome.

“What the fuck is going on?” shouted Rob, jumping off me and sliding to the far side of the car.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I shouted back. “I’m getting FUCKING HUGE!!!”

And saying it, somehow made it sink in. I was getting huge. And the realization made me get stiff. I got an instant full-on erection, about as hard as I’d ever been, no, harder than I’d ever been, and larger too. It was weird I was bigger down there, I could feel it growing, thickening, fighting against my underwear, the sensitive head swelling and pushing out against my clothing. I looked down and saw a fucking monster in my pants. I moved it, and it moved less like a stiff cock and more like a limb. I found I could actually push with it, and I began shoving the head up against my pants. And it felt awesome, and I pushed harder and harder and suddenly the whole front of my pants blew out as my monster cock exploded out into the open, scraps of my pants still stuck by precum to the fist-sized head.

“Holy fuck!” yelled Rob, “look at that thing!”

Look at it? I was fucking feeling it. And I’d never felt anything like it in my life. Waves of intense pleasure just rippled out of it and all through my entire body as it continued to swell with muscle. My pant legs felt so fucking tight, so confining as they fought against the huge fucking lead weights that were blowing up inside them. I heard the sound of rending cloth and popping seams as my enormous thighs finally tore themselves free. Each magnificent head was clearly defined, crisscrossed by a web of thick, bulging veins. And those were my legs. Fuck. They were gargantuan and felt like steel.

I felt my back widening and my traps thickening, pulling the shredded remains of my shirt off my powerful swelling shoulders, and sending them sliding to the floor. My knees collided with the dashboard; my shoulder became jammed up against the passenger door and my head was scraping the roof. And suddenly the car seemed really small.

Rob was breathing hard. He still couldn’t take his eyes of my monster cock. He was practically drooling. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” he said. “I never dreamed anything like it could exist.”

“Come on, Rob,” I said, feeling really fucking hot and hard, “don’t just look at it. Say hello.” And then he was all over it, licking it, caressing it, stroking it. And I groaned with pleasure, the pleasure of Rob on my cock, the pleasure of the hard, solid, powerful sinew that was swelling up and rippling out all over my heaving, growing body.

Then I raised my hand to put it on the back of his head, and holy crap, I couldn’t believe the weight of my arm. I had huge fucking biceps, now, like soccer balls—if soccer balls were made out of pure, solid, ripped muscle. My forearms were as thick around as my thighs used to be. And my shoulders were growing into bowling balls while they stretched further and further away from my thickening neck. And the sight of my huge body along with Rob’s enthusiastic work on my cock was making me more fucking aroused then I’d ever been.

And suddenly I came, with unbelievable force. It was mind numbing pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Rob was knocked to the side by the eruption. My entire body spasmed, as torrents of cum issued from my cock, and I just exploded with mass. My arm, blowing up to twice the size, shot out his passenger window, shattering it. My upper arms almost wouldn’t fit through it. I flexed and felt the window frame bend under the pressure of my gargantuan expanding bicep. My legs tore right through the floor, and I felt my head blasting out through the roof. I was so fucking massive, so fucking strong. I stood up, ripping the rest of Rob’s car apart. It was the only way out and the feeling of tearing through the metal cab like it was aluminum foil was un-fucking-real.

As I pulled the remains of Rob’s car out from around my gargantuan frame, I saw another figure coming toward me. It looked like this regular body builder dude. I smiled. I was so much bigger than him. But as he got closer, I realized it was Josh. Holy crap! What happened? Had he shrunk some more? But then it hit me like a flash. He hadn’t shrunk any more. I was just way bigger than him now. I couldn’t help ginning. I was bigger than fucking Josh, and feeling my humongous steel-like muscles, I knew I was stronger, too. I had to be. I felt fucking invincible! I looked down at robs car below me and, fuck, I had to be well over seven feet tall… I was wider than a fucking barn door, and my entire body was solid, ripped muscle, from head to toe and from side to side. Awesome.

But as soon as Josh got close to me, he just stopped and stared.

“Hey, little bro, I said to him flexing my new gargantu-arms. “Come to see what real fucking arms look like?”

“What the fuck is this?” He sounded mad. “Where’s Rob?”

Rob pulled himself out of the wreck of his own car, looking a little bruised and, you know, covered in my cum. His eyes were a little wild and crazy, like he was in some kind of shock, but otherwise he looked ok.

“He got the wrong guy!” shouted Josh. “I can’t believe he got the wrong guy!”

The full meaning of Josh’s words struck home and suddenly I was pissed, royally pissed. Before I really knew what I was doing, I had grabbed Josh by his collar and I was lifting may massive little brother off the ground as easily as if he’d been a six-year-old. “You wanted to grow him!” I shouted. “You wanted to take that little psychopath and make him huge. No, not just huge, even bigger than you! Are you crazy, or just a moron?”

“No, dude, I think I love him,” said Josh.

“So, you’re crazy! And what about me? Did you just forget all about me? You were going to grow him and leave your own brother a puny little stick man! What the hell is that?”

“No, bro,” said Josh, his anger gone and a slight edge of fear creeping into his voice. That was something I hadn’t heard in a while, and the idea that I was causing it was more than a little fucking hot. “It’s not like that,” he continued. “Cupid is all about romantic love and couples and shit. It’s not like I didn’t want to grow you, but he doesn’t work like that.”

“Cupid?” I said, and suddenly remembering the arrow, I set him down.

“Yeah, except I didn’t expect him to be such a crappy shot.”

I couldn’t help glancing over at Rob. He was looking up at me, with awe plastered all over his face—along with a lot of my jiz. “Can I see it again?” he asked.

“What?” I said turning toward him, and by the hungry glance he shot at my crotch answered my question.

“Oh, it’s sleeping,” he said. “Can I wake it?”

And I looked down and he was right. My python had gone soft. Probably the cold. And it was cold. Now that I was calming down, I was starting to realize exactly how freaking cold it was. It sure as hell wasn’t weather to be naked in.

“You still want him,” I asked Josh.

He nodded sheepishly.

“Rob,” I said, “Josh has got one just as big… well almost. Why don’t you go wake his up?”

“Is it really that big?” Rob asked Josh.

Josh grinned. “You know I’ve got a healthy piece of meat.”

“Yeah, but that big?”

Josh glanced down at my cock, and I could tell from the look on his face that mine was bigger. But Josh just turned to Rob, grabbed his crotch and said, “Why don’t you come and find out?”

“Ok,” said Rob. “But it better be pretty fucking huge.”

Josh’s face broke into a shit eating grin. “I haven’t had any complaints yet. Come on, I know just the spot.” He leaned over, picked up Rob, threw him over his shoulder and started to jog away. Then he paused and turned back.

“Hey, Nature Boy,” he called back at me. “I brought some extra clothes with me. They’re in the car. Oh, and Bro, I didn’t forget you. I could never forget you.” Then he turned and jogged off.

What the hell did he mean by that? I was half tempted to run after him and find out, but I was too damn cold. Now, what car was he talking about? Then I saw it, about thirty yards away, parked at the side of the road. It was Sean’s car. That’s how Josh got up here. Sean must have driven him. I looked down at my massive body for a second, flexing and watching the gigantic muscles heave and roll under my skin. My best friend was in for a little shock.

I started walking toward the car, feeling my body adjust to its new size, shape and power. Movement was a whole different thing. Just walking was so fucking sexy, feeling my granite quads rolling under my skin with each step, feeling my incredibly thick arms hit my ridiculously wide back as they swung. Despite the cold, I felt the python start to wake up again.

As I approached the car, I saw the door open and Sean get out.

“Josh…” he started, the stopped as he looked up at me. “Who the—” Then, his jaw dropped. “Holy fuck!”

“Hey, Sean,” I said, flexing my gargantuan arm. “What do you think?”

“Dude, you grew—,” he stuttered. “—like Josh. All that “I wanna get huge… stuff… it really pays off.”

Then I heard it again. That flapping sound, like a jumbo sized humming bird. I looked around and I swear I saw a baby, a flying baby darting in and out from the trees. Sean looked over and I think he saw it too, but this time it had something in its hands. The thing was too quick, and there wasn’t enough light to see clearly, but in a second, Sean was clutching his neck. “Shit!” he yelled. I got to him just as he was pulling a small gold arrow out of his neck.

“What the—” he said, looking at it.

“Sean, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I guess. It was just fucking weird.”

Jeeze, was Sean about to explode out of his clothes? But when nothing happened immediately, I began to get cold again.

“Josh said he brought some clothes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said a little absently, “They’re in the back.”

In the back seat was a pile of Josh’s clothes. The pants were really too small on me, but I could just about squeeze into them, and right now, any covering was a blessing. And the shirt, well forget about buttoning up the front. I had to leave it open, my massive pecs thrusting out the front. Thank God it was sleeveless. I didn’t even want to think about trying to stuff my monolithic arms into any sleeves. And there was a big old quilt back there, too. I wrapped myself up in it and climbed into the front of the car with Sean. I felt the car sink beneath me. The seat had been pushed all the way back, but my knees still hit the dashboard. And I had to duck my head a little. My left shoulder was almost hitting Sean in the head. It wasn’t too awkward. The engine was running, the heater was on and I was actually starting to get comfortable.

But we weren’t going anywhere.

I looked over at Sean but he was just staring straight ahead out the windshield.

“You ok?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “I was just thinking.”

“What about?” I asked.

“Do you remember the other day, when you kissed me?”

What a time to bring that up. “Yeah?”

“Do you think—?” he paused and took a deep breath. “Do you think you could do it again?”

I was thunderstruck. “Seriously?” Was this for real? “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sure. Suddenly I can’t think about anything else.”

“Oh well,” I said. “I guess there’s no fighting cupid’s arrow.” And I leaned over and smothered myself in his embrace.

(Happy Valentines Day!)


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