The Benefactor

By Proteus  Email
2 parts
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Part 1: Dominic Sacco

The Benefactor passed over thousands of souls before he selected a prospect in a small midwestern city.

Dominic Sacco waited in line at the coffee shop. He was 31, with short, sharp stubble that encircled a bald spot and merged with his facial scruff. Despite being only 5’7”, he was nearing 200 pounds.

Dom had worked over a decade to get this far, but the hardcore gym where he built his body was over an hour from his new home. Things were getting serious with his girlfriend, and she had to move for work. 200 pounds looked a little farther away, but Steph was the only thing he loved more than lifting.

He took two black coffees to his girlfriend, smirking like he always did. Dom’s long-sleeved t-shirt, gray with black sleeves, tugged and stretched over his chest and his upper arms as he sat down. He sipped his coffee, admiring Steph while she checked her phone.

Goddamn, he was going to miss his gym. She was worth it, but still…

The Benefactor read Dom’s heart. He would show him favor.

The lights flickered. Every sophisticated electronic device in the room crashed or lost power.

Dom shifted in his seat, barely noticing. He felt the reassuring way his shirt clung to his back. He was big, dammit, and he’d be big no matter where he worked out! He slouched a bit as his shoulders began to test the shirt, smirking at how much smaller it was than when he bought it.

“Dom, are you listening?” asked Steph. “My phone is dead—everything just shut down. It’s creepy.”

“…Yeah,” he said, more concerned with the sudden tightness in his briefs.

He readjusted and went to take a sip. His arm looked bigger; the sleeve hugged his bicep and tricep tighter than usual. It was great, but—but? His concern was overshadowed by his stiff cock shifting in his baggy pants.

Steph gave up on rebooting her phone and looked up at Dom. “Jesus Christ!” she said. Her boyfriend had packed on 20 pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds.

Dom didn’t react. His dick throbbed and his mind focused only on his body. Ignoring his surroundings, Dom held out his arms and watched veins rise under the thin fabric. He was compelled to bring both arms up and flex. His biceps split open his sleeves while the cuffs were pulled halfway up his thickening forearms. He grinned, feeling a pump in every muscle.

His shirt started snapping at the seams as his torso thickened. He stood up and felt his glutes pull his briefs tight until they snapped and his junk flopped forward in his pants. Dom gleefully assumed a most muscular pose. His engorging deltoids pulled the top of his shirt apart and his hairy chest and back burst through the rest of the material.

He was ecstatic, thinking only of his monstrous, growing body. His feet burst through his sneakers so painfully that he groaned, “Shit!” almost returning to his senses. Almost.

Dom grew past 6 feet tall. His pants wrapped tightly around his ass and thighs, bunching at the knees and stuck as they tried to ride up his chunky calves. His hamstrings and quads tore open his pants—first on the right leg, then the left. The fabric on his forearms and calves shredded. All that remained were scraps hanging from his waist. His entire frame grew. He maintained a V taper, but as he pushed past 400 pounds the waistband snapped. Dom’s 9-inch cock rose up, 3 inches longer than when he woke up.

Dom cycled through poses, his body acting automatically. He loved every new pound—he was bigger than any pro! His biceps grew bigger than his legs used to be and his legs put his old chest to shame. His pecs outgrew watermelons.

Forcing his godly body into another most muscular, Dom crunched his swollen muscles, flexing again and again. It got harder to hit poses as his mobility declined, beer keg arms against pecs and lats, gait widened by his titanic thighs. Even at his old height he would be a freak with these obscene proportions. Dom smirked at the thought. His footlong cock drooled precum on the floor tiles and his balls surpassed oranges.

As his body edged closer to climax, Dom became aware of his surroundings—the shouts of panic, the sight of his girlfriend backing away, so much smaller than a minute ago.

Fuck—oh fuck i’m sorry!” he shouted, trembling as he continued to grow heavier and taller. His voice was deep—his Adam’s apple was the size of an actual apple. His muscles continued to rub and push against each other, hard and bulging. “Steph, I—”

Dom’s plea was cut short by an explosion of cum. Every muscle spasmed as he drenched a group of cowering customers. His body settled at 7 feet tall and 552 pounds. He fell to his knees, cracking the tile.

The Benefactor sipped his latte outside, smiling. He’d missed this. He vanished, leaving behind an empty coffee cup.

Hours later, Agent Oscar Guerra arrived on the scene. Inspecting the damage, something subtle stirred inside him. The Benefactor took notice.

Part 2: Investigation 1

Agent Oscar Guerra parked a dark blue sedan in the garage on 2nd Street. He exchanged looks with his partner, Agent Jared McKee. Dressed in black suits, they walked through Downtown under a pre-dawn sky. For fly-over country, the city wasn’t half-bad.

Oscar didn’t expect to find anything. In five years of investigating the unexplained, Oscar had made one legitimate discovery: jackalopes, of all fucking things. Other than that, nothing—no ghosts or psychics or aliens. He suspected that other agents had better luck, but Oscar and Jared were in the lowest tier of the Agency.

“5:30 pm, the whole block lost power for a second,” said Jared.

“Then some bodybuilder jacked off,” Oscar said dismissively. “The pearl-clutching customers had nothing better to do than make up some bullshit.”

Jared held up his phone. “Headquarters just updated us. Every computer and mobile device inside went dark, all at once. The surveillance footage is just static.”

Oscar ran a hand over his short hair as he incorporated that information.

The owner of the coffee shop showed them the damage—broken chairs and shelves—but it was hard to focus on anything but the cum. It was caked on the wall, thick enough that Oscar found a gummy sample to collect. Flaky residue outlined dried puddles the size of dinner plates. It was more than any one man could produce in a month, let alone five minutes.

Something subtle stirred inside Oscar.

It was hard to find witnesses who provided more insight than, “he got big,” or, in the case of one man, “it was so hot I almost came.” Eventually they found a woman who claimed to be in the “splash zone.” She knew the girlfriend of the man alleged to have bulked up and gave a street name. Jared updated headquarters as they drove out to the suburbs, unsure of what they’d uncover.

Stephanie Cole’s house was easy to find. The door had a plastic grocery bag taped over the spot where the knob should be. There were dents in the wood and parts of the frame were splintered. Oscar hesitated (the lowest tier of Agency didn’t carry sidearms), then knocked.

Stephanie answered, addressing them as “officers.” The Agency wasn’t part of the government, but they looked the part. They flashed fake badges and talked their way into Stephanie’s living room.

“So, you haven’t seen your boyfriend for 36 hours?” asked Oscar, raising an eyebrow.

“At least five people claim you were there during Mr. Sacco’s, uh, episode,” said Jared.

She sighed. “I don’t want anything to happen to him. You can take me to the station—or whatever. I don’t know where he went.”

The agents avoided exchanging glances. Dominic Sacco was definitely in this house. Jared asked Stephanie where she last saw Dominic to distract her long enough for Oscar to start walking into the next room.

“Wait,” she said, following him, “you don’t understand it! It wasn’t his fault.”

Oscar didn’t have to search long. A door in the kitchen was banged up pretty bad, the top of the frame crushed. He opened the door just as the other two caught up, smelling cum for the second time today.

Jesus Christ!“ he shouted while Jared said, “Fuck!”

Inside the garage was the largest man Oscar had ever seen. He was at least 7 feet tall with a wide, rippling back half-lit by bare lightbulbs overhead. He was flexing his arms, smirking as he stared at the right one that looked as thick as thick as Oscar’s body. He saw Oscar and immediately turned and backed away, eyes wide and fearful.

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled in a voice that Oscar could feel in his chest. These people really felt like they’d done something awful. Oscar slowly entered the garage, hoping to put the enormous man at ease.

Dominic wasn’t just tall and muscular; his entire body was too big. His head was larger than it should be and the stubble bristling around his face and bald spot looked thicker than normal hairs. The more details Oscar took in, the more he started to regret stepping in the room.

The man’s cock was gigantic—bigger than if you just enlarged it like his other features, unless he had already been hung. Stiff and slick with viscous fluid, the foot-long cock bobbed with every movement Dominic made. It was beyond obscene, but overshadowed by his ridiculous muscles.

Dominic suddenly brought his arms up and flexed his biceps. The giant could barely make a right angle with his elbows—his arms were too thick!

“I can’t help it,” Dominic said. “It just feels so good to flex.” He dropped his arms, though his lats kept them away from his sides. He wasn’t able to stand normally, because his mammoth legs kept his feet apart. He slumped his shoulders—barely, but you could tell what it would look like if he had a greater range of motion. “Sorry about this,” he said, looking at his erect penis and orange-size balls. He seemed sincere.

“It just… happened,” said Stephanie.

A rope of cum drizzled from his cockhead. “That’s just the post-cum,” he explained, sheepishly.

Oscar spied a wet splatter on the wall. There were also outlines of dried puddles, like in the coffeeshop.

“Is all of this from…” Oscar tried to construct a sensible sentence. “Did all of this happen after Mr. Sacco’s incident last night?

“It did,” Dominic said. He exhaled in frustration, strong enough that Oscar felt the warm air on his face.

The gigantic man suddenly leaned forward and flexed his arms in. His biceps fought for room with his massive chest, covered in abnormally thick strands of hair. His traps, also hairy, swelled higher than his ears. Dominic squeezed his muscles as far as they would go, but his physique didn’t leave much room. Even if he wasn’t abnormally tall he would have been huge. As he straightened his back, it was clear that his proportions were more extreme than any bodybuilder.

“It’s just so right…” Dominic grunted, seemingly compelled against his will to plant his left foot forward. Oscar felt the floor shake. He looked at Jared, who was too overwhelmed to exchange glances. The muscle monster tensed a thigh bigger either agent and repeated the action with his right leg, causing another tremor.

He stood up again, drew a large breath, and tried to turn his abdomen at an angle. He only managed to twist 15 degrees. His waist was small compared to the rest of his body, but it was still 50 inches of solid abs. Dominic pulled one arm back, just a little, and was trying to grab his wrist behind his back. His thick back and horseshoe triceps made it completely impossible. He flexed his watermelon pecs, panting from the effort of positioning his godly body. His dick remained hard the whole time, pointing straight out with a wet head.

“He needs to work through it,” Stephanie said, quietly.

Dominic did the double biceps pose again, but more vigorous. He was shaking as he tried to flex his arms past a right angle. He must have been in pain, but Dominic was smirking. His chest heaved up and down—fast enough that Oscar worried he would pass out.

As he trembled in pain—and pleasure—Dominic’s cock jerked with each breath. It was bigger than before. Oscar was about to ask if he was okay when Dominic blasted the agents with a gallon of cum. He moaned like a beast.

“Oh God,” said Stephanie, “I’m so sorry. It just…”

The giant let out a groan of anguish. He was trying to hold his head in his hands but he could barely touch his face with his fingers.

The agents left after showering, in Dominic’s old clothes. Jared assured Stephanie that nothing bad would happen to Dominic, but in reality, he didn’t know.

“What are we putting in the report?” Oscar asked when they got in the car.

“I don’t know,” said Jared, wearing a baggy sports jersey, “but he definitely broke the laws of physics. We might go up a tier because of this.”

“We could call it something like, violation of conservation of mass through muscular hypertrophy and spontaneous cellular engorgement, if we want to keep it clinical,” Oscar ventured. Inside Dominic’s old cargo shorts, his cock twitched.


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