Description The only thing weirder than your buddy Boz offering you a “hulk pill” would be for it to actually work.
|Updated||16 Oct 2012|
“Hey, dude, come here,” said my scraggly looking friend.
“What is it, Boz?” I asked.
“Check this out. It’s a hulk pill,” he said producing a capsule that looked more like an extra strength Tylenol than anything else.
“A hulk pill. It’s filled with all these nanobots. You take it and they go in, rewrite your DNA, then power you up so you grow huge like the Hulk—except you’re not green.”
God, what was Boz on today? “Well, that’s a deal breaker for me,” I said. “What’s the point of being the hulk if you’re not green? I mean it’s got to be against hulk union rules or something.”
“I’m serious, Bro,” said Boz.
“No you’re not. Anyway, where would you even get something like that?”
“My brother works for a biotech firm. He got this for me because he knows how much I get picked on.”
“Picked on? You sound like you’re in the fifth grade. We’re in high school now. Here, you get bullied.”
“Yeah, well, whatever you call it, it sucks,” he said.
“So, why don’t you swallow the hulk pill and show me how it works,” I said.
“No way, dude. I don’t wanna be that big. It’d be too freaky. But you work out. You’re, like, Mr. Gym Rat. You take it, and then you can like kick anyone’s butt that ties to mess with me.”
“Like I don’t already,” I said.
“I know, I know,” said Boz, “but this should make it easier.” He handed me the pill and I looked at it. It still said Tylenol to me.
“Seriously, Boz, what is it?”
“I told you. It’s a hulk pill. Take it and see.”
I couldn’t tell if he seriously believed what he was telling me or not. I was petty sure whatever it was it was harmless. Maybe his brother gave it to him as some kind of psychological confidence booster. I didn’t really want to take the thing, but I didn’t want to hurt Boz’s feelings either. I stuck it in my pocket. “I’ll take it later,” I said. “I don’t want to freak everyone out by turning into the hulk in the middle of the hallway.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. And I didn’t think about it again until I got home. As I ran up the stairs toward my room, I could hear the sound of metal clanking. God, my poor, pathetic 16-year-old little brother Brad was using my weight set again.
“Off the bench, Bradley,” I said as I walked in. I called him Bradley because I knew it bugged the shit out of him. He wanted to be called Brad, but I’m sorry, he just didn’t look like a Brad to me. He looked like a Bradley.
God, the kid was trying to bench twenty pounds and he was having trouble. He looked incredibly dorky wearing an oxford shirt and workout shorts. And that dorky beard of his didn’t help either. He had about three whiskers growing out of his chin and he wouldn’t shave them off no matter how much my mom begged him. He said to shave them would be an assault on his manhood. I thought they looked like crap, but I refused to side with mom on this one. With his boyish baby face and wispy body, there was precious little about him that was man-like. Let him keep his three hairs.
“You know mom doesn’t want you working out with weights until your 17. You could hurt yourself.”
“That is total bullshit,” said my skinny-ass brother, jumping off the bench “You worked out when you were my age, and you didn’t hurt yourself.”
“Well, you’re not me,” I said. Actually I was not bad for an 18-year-old. I was very proud of my 16 inch biceps, my softball shoulders and pecs, and my cut six pack. I knew my brother thought they were cool, too, because he wanted some just like them. But the kid just wasn’t built for it. I mean I know we had a lot of the same genes, but for some reason he just didn’t have the natural girth I’d had at his age. He’d always been small and skinny. I looked at him standing there, his stick legs swimming around in a pair of black workout shorts. His oxford shirt was so loose on his pole-like body, he looked like an umbrella someone had forgotten to open. I couldn’t really blame him for the shirt, though. Mom had bought it big, figuring his growth spurt was on the way so he’d grow into it. That was two years ago. He never did.
“Put a little meat on your bones before you hit the weights,” I said. “Eat right, do some sit ups, pull ups and push ups—you know, all that up stuff. You gotta have a good foundation to build on,” I said pulling my keys and other junk out of my pocket and tossing them on my desk. Then I saw the hulk pill mixed in with all the other crap.
“Here,” I said, picking it up. “Take this.” I handed it to him.
“What is it?” he said, taking it.
“It’s a hulk pill,” I said.
“It is not,” he said.
I couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Seriously, that’s what the guy who gave it to me said it was—a hulk pill.”
“You gotta be kidding.”
“I don’t know what it is, probably some new kind of supplement. Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s harmless. Go on, take it. Maybe it’ll help.”
He looked at me. He looked at the pill, shrugged and then swallowed it down.
“So how is it supposed to—“ but he didn’t finish his sentence.
I heard a kind rumbling and churning. It seemed to come deep inside him. It started soft, but began getting louder and louder as his entire skinny frame began to shake. “Ahhh! Ahhhh!” he cried. It was like his whole body was vibrating, faster and faster and faster. Then it cut out. He stated swaying like he was dizzy. “Oh fuck, bro,” he said, breathlessly, “Oh fuck.” He staggered a little and had to steady himself on the weight bench.
“You ok, Bradley?” I asked, starting to get a little scared about what I might have just given him.
“What was in that thing?” he said. “That was fucking amazing. Like my whole body was getting off.”
Whoa, his voice sounded deeper.
“Oh Jeeze,” he said, grabbing the bench. “I think it’s starting again.” Then the rumbling and shaking began once more and in a matter of seconds it had spread all across his body.
“Awwwwwwwe fuck,” he said. “This is… This is awesome. I think… I think something’s happening.” And then his meager, thin frame began to change. I noticed it in his hands first. The veins were rising out of them, getting thicker. And on his arms, the same thing. The sleeves on his oxford were rolled up and I watched as veins emerged from his smooth skin and wrapped his forearms in heavy, web-like patterns. Brad saw it too. He raised them up in front of him and stared at them slack jawed. And then his limbs began to get thicker. I could see hard lumps forming under his skin. Oh my God, were those—? Yes they were. He was growing muscles! And not just on his arms. I could see his shirt shifting as his skinny torso swelled beneath it. And thick cords of sinew were sprouting up on his needle-thin legs. It was happening all-fucking-over him.
“Holy fuck, bro! Can you see this?” he cried “Can you see what’s happening to me?”
I could only nod mutely.
His forearms were easiest to see. Muscles were surfacing and thickening, turning his flat, featureless limbs into an undulating landscape of cords and tendons. And I could see his sleeves starting to fill as his upper arms began expanding. And beneath his shirt buttons, his flat, knobby pecs were bulging out, becoming rounder, fuller. And then… fuck, was he—? Yeah, he was. He was getting taller. Slowly his stunted legs were stretching, inching upward. He looked up at me wide-eyed as his feet shuffled back and forth trying to keep his balance. “OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod,” he said.
Then he turned and looked at his reflection in my full length mirror and gasped. I couldn’t blame him. He hardly resembled the kid he’d been just a minute ago. He filled that shirt like it had been cut for him. He had a prominent chest, thick athletic arms and wide shoulders. He flexed and watched as large biceps bulged up on his formally skinny arms. Suddenly that wide-eyed, shocked expression evaporated, and was replaced by a shit-eating grin.
“Yes!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “This is awesome! Look at me, Bro! Look at my fucking guns! They feel incredible, like fucking cement. That pill worked great!”
He dropped his arms, then he started shaking again. “Ahhhh. Oh shit! Oh shit, it’s still happening… YES! IT’S STILL HAPPEING!” Suddenly that shirt didn’t look like it fit him anymore. It looked too small. Buttons were straining. Seams were stressing. He flexed his arms again and I could see his biceps bulging up bigger and bigger, stretching his sleeves tighter and tighter and then suddenly ripping them apart, and exploding out as big veiny balls of rock hard muscle.
“FUCK YEAH!” yelled my brother, staring at his magnificent, bulging arms. “Check this shit out! I’m fucking huge!”
I couldn’t think of anything to say as I stood there staring at two of the most perfect biceps I’d ever seen erupting out of the shredded sleeves of my dorky kid brother’s oxford. Damn. But my attention was quickly pulled away as the front of his shirt slowly ballooned out. He saw what I was looking at and laughed. “You see that, bro?” he asked. “I can feel it, like two boulders pushing their way out of my chest, and it feels awesome!”
He grinned and flexed his chest. There was a pop pop pop as one by one the upper buttons flew off and his shirt parted revealing two expanding striated mounds of muscle beneath. “Oh yeah,” he said, rubbing his hand over his giant pecs. “Look at them. They feel like iron, like fucking iron.” His hands slid down and buttons flew off in all directions as he ripped open the rest of his shirt revealing his stomach. At first it was as smooth as always; but then I saw the outline of a six pack starting to form, growing more and more distinct until he actually had abs. He passed his hand over them. They looked hard and solid. But it didn’t stop there; they kept getting larger, pushing out, and bulking up, like stepping stones across his waist. In seconds his stomach had solidified out into a wall of powerful, brick-like abdominals. “Oh man, oh man, oh man,” he said as he ran his hand over the bumpy surface, “so fucking hard.”
He looked over at me and grinned; and I suddenly noticed that the two of us were eye to eye. “Hey, bro, what’s up?” he said. Holy crap, in the past few seconds he had shot up six inches, and God only knew how much heavier he was. With all that fucking muscle he looked a lot heavier.
“I got a little bigger, didn’t I?” he said flexing for me. “Holy fuck! I’m bigger than you!” And then that grin came back. “” little bro.”
I swallowed hard. Jesus, he was right. Look at all that fucking muscle, those hard full pecs shoving their way out of his torn, open shirt and shadowing those carved abs, and those thick arms, bulging out through his shredded sleeves. The sheer size of his bicep prevented him from bending his arm too much. Fuck, those things had to be at least 18 inches. Damn, he looked totally jacked, really fucking powerful.
“Holy shit,” I said. “That pill made you huge, Bradley!”
“I’m fucking Brad, dude,” he said grabbing my shoulder. Jesus, his grip was like iron, “Call me fucking Brad. And…. Whoa!” He suddenly dropped me and raised his hands up in front of him. “It’s happening again—” he said. Was it my imagination or did they look thicker. They were thicker. I heard a creaking, stretching kind of noise as his hands began getting larger and longer and wider. There was a loud snap as Brad’s leather watch band ripped in two. It was a freaking incredible sight. His hands were changing right in front of my eyes. They were a man’s hands, not the thin, feeble appendages he used to have.
And the change wasn’t lost on him. He was staring at them, opening and closing his fists, turning them frontward and backward, looking at every aspect of them, as they continued to increase in size.
“Nice,” he said. But damn, they looked way too big for his body—
And then his feet… I heard a ripping and popping sound as the sneaker top tore free from the sole, wedged apart by his lengthening feet. And they were glorious feet, thick, with wide sturdy toes, nothing like the narrow spindly things he used to have, and they were just gigantic. If he were to grow into them… fuck—
“Jeeze, bro my feet… look at the size of my feet,” said Brad “You know what that means?”
He stood up straight, and then stepped right up next to me so that his eyeballs were level with my forehead. He was taller than me! Fuck, my little brother was taller than me!
“How’s the view down there?” he said, grinning, “cause it’s pretty sweet from up here!”
I looked up at him. Damn, he wasn’t just taller than me, with all that bulk he was staring to look fucking colossal!
“Awwwwwe man, it’s starting again,” he said. “It’s start—ah ah ahhhhhhhhh!” He began shaking, and then as I watched, his muscles started bulking up all over his body as he slowly got even taller. “Ahhhhhhh!” he cried as his back grew wider and thicker, it stretched the hell out of his shirt. Threads began popping and tearing as his great, thick lats erupted out from the sides. “Oh fuck!” he cried. Seconds later his shirt ripped open right down the center of his thick muscular back, “OH FUCK ME!” he yelled and huge globular shoulder muscles tore out of the arms. “FUUUUUK ME!” he cried as his expanding muscled torso ripped his shirt into shreds and it fell to a pathetic heap on the ground.
“Oh my fucking God, LOOK AT ME!” he shouted and flexed. His upper arms swelled into gigantic twin granite peaks. The shoulders above them were the size of cannonballs. His forearms were great wedges of muscle leading up to his thick heavy fists. My former stick-boy of a brother was now looking way down at me over his huge shredded pecs—fuck, I was bending my neck to look up at my kid brother and he was fucking gigantic.
“Yes!” he shouted. “Oh God, yes! Look how fucking massive I am! I can’t tell you how much I fucking love this!” Suddenly his eyes went wide again. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “It’s starting again! Ahhhh… Ahhhhh….AHHHHHHHHH! FUCK YEAH!” he yelled and exploded upward, his mammoth muscles expanded to keep pace, making his monstrous frame unbelievably massive. “SO FUCKING HUGE!” he shouted as his shoulders stretched out further and further as grew into huge balls of rock hard flesh. Colossal traps rose up and merged with his thickening neck and I could see his back getting thicker and wider behind him. And God, he had to be more than seven feet tall! There was nothing kid-like about his body now. He looked like a man… no, not even a man, a fucking god.
“I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!” he yelled as his workout shorts were tearing up the sides, releasing two mammoth thighs which were bulging out to an unbelievable volume. In a moment those huge muscles, writhing and swelling under his skin, blew his shorts away completely, leaving him naked in the center of my room. I looked down, I couldn’t help it. He had a dick that would put a bull to shame, and it was standing straight up at attention.
“FUCK, YEAH!” he shouted looking at it. He didn’t care. His body was awesome, a fucking thing of beauty and unbelievable power, and he knew it.
“Holy fuck!” he shouted and he began to shake. “HERE IT FUCKING COMES AGAIN!” He flexed his already massive arms and watched them bulge up into veiny peeked mountains and then grow even larger. His shoulders continued to stretch outward, further and further, exploding into incredible globes of unbelievable size that flowed down and melded with his titanic pecs. His back pushed out further, causing his entire upper body to grow wider and wider as he continued to grow taller and taller. He was just fucking mountainous now. He looked down at me now, way, way down. I felt like a child, looking up from the shadow of his massive, bulging chest.
And then it was over. Brad pulled a most muscular and every one of his incredibly large, incredibly powerful muscles bulged out all over him. It was a sight not to be believed. He had to be somewhere near eight feet tall, weighing more than a ton. The fucking size of him… How could this muscle mountain be my skinny little brother? He was a fucking monster.
“Jesus, Brad, look at you,” I said.
“Yeah, look at me,” answered Brad, flexing his right arm and running his left hand all over it. “I’m fucking awesome.”
I gulped. I was terrified. In a matter of minutes Brad had gone from wimp-boy to an incredibly wide, impossibly thick towering mass of heaving muscle. His wrecking ball shoulders were brushing opposite walls. His head was scraping the ceiling. He must have more strength in the tiniest of his muscles than I had in all of mine. I felt like a sapling in the shadow of a mountain.
“Looks like I don’t need your puny little weight set anymore,” he said lifting the bar off the supports with a much effort as you or I might use on a drinking straw. And then he bent it like it was nothing, wadded it all with no more difficulty than if it had been a wire coat hanger. Then he took the case hardened steel plates and snapped them in half and crumbled up them like they were so many cookies.
“Hey, wait a minute,” I cried as soon as could find my voice. “What am I supposed to use?”
“You?” he grinned. “Do some sit ups, pull ups and push ups—you know all that up stuff.”
He reached over and before I knew what was happening, he’d lifted me up into the air with one massive hand. I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself. They were mammoth, hard as rocks and I could feel them bulge and writhe under his skin like a mini avalanche. I was staring him straight in the face. It looked kind of amazing, that boyish face with it’s three chin hairs on top of that muscle behemoth of a body.
“You know, Tiny Bro,” he said, casually flexing a monstrous, bulging bicep that was bigger than my fucking torso, “after all the crap you’ve given me over the years, I’d say I owe you a pretty big ass whooping.”
“Yeah?” I said, sounding a lot braver than I felt. “Who’s to say I won’t go find my friend, get another one of those pills and then give you an even bigger one.”
His grin faulted and he set me down. “Ok, you’re off the hook for now,” he said. “Anyway, I guess I’d be a pretty big asshole to mess with you after you gave me that pill.”
“You sure as hell would. Jeeze, mom is going to freak.”
“She’ll get over it,” he said. “Mind if I take this?” He grabbed a sheet off my bed. “I didn’t think you would,” he said, not waiting for an answer. He took the sheet, wrapped it around himself and fashioned it into a rough loin cloth.
“I’m going out to have some fun,” he said. “There are one or two guys I want to see… Actually,” he said with a mean edge, “I want them to see me.” He grinned and took a step forward. Damn, the whole house shook on its foundations. He took one look at my door and said, “Tiny Bro, your door is too small.” Then he reached over and grabbed the frame. I saw his massive muscles ripple across his gargantuan upper back and heard a loud ripping, crunching noise, as he tore the door frame right out of the wall leaving a huge, gaping hole behind. “Much better,” he said, as plaster rained down around him. “I’m going to have to do this to all the doors… but later.” Then he stepped through and started down the stairs. Each footfall was a house shaking thud.
I had my cell phone out in a second. “Boz,” I said when he answered. “About that pill—”
“Yeah, dude? Did you take it?”
“No, I gave it to my little brother.”
“Little Bradley? That’s awesome. Is he huge?”
“He’s a fucking monster, and he’s way out of control. Is there some kind of antidote?”
“I don’t know, dude. Hang on, I’ll ask.”
In a second I heard some shouts on the other end of the phone.
“Dude,” came Boz’s voice, “There’s a kind of a situation happening here. My bro isn’t exactly happy it was your bro who took the pill. I’m going to have to call you back.”
‘But—” was all I could get out before he disconnected. Damn.
I could feel Brad’s earthshaking footfalls as he walked down the street outside our house. Crap, I’d better not lose sight of him. Who knows what he might do.
I raced down the stairs and out of the gap that used to be our front door. I followed after Brad at a distance. I didn’t want him to know I was following him. That might piss him off, and I don’t think anyone wanted that. But he wasn’t exactly hard to keep track of. A fucking mountain of rippling heaving muscles, he loomed over everyone and just about everything. People got out of his way. And things that got in his way… Well, there was a light pole on the street side of the sidewalk. It made it too narrow for him to pass so he reached over with one hand and just ripped it out of the ground, like he was pulling a weed. He let it fall across the street with a giant clang and a crash, and just kept going. No cars were coming or anything, but fuck, that was dangerous.
I kept wondering where he was going. Being naturally small most of his life, there was a long list of guys who had picked on him at one time or another. I guessed he was probably looking for one of them. Whoever he was, I felt real sorry for him.
We walked for about twenty minutes. And anyone who stared at Brad too long got treated to a most muscular pose and a growl. Fuck, those massive pecs with those boulder-like abs and those mountainous traps on that eight foot frame would scare the crap out of anyone. And that’s not even getting into his fucking monolithic arms. The starers would usually run. Then Brad would laugh. Sometimes they’d even piss their pants
We finally ended up at an ordinary looking house with a wrought iron fence in front. Brad didn’t bother with the gate. He just ripped a section out of the fence and sent it flying across the street as he thundered across the lawn and up to the front door. For a second I thought he was just going to smash through it and into the house, but at the last second he stopped. He reached down and awkwardly pressed the doorbell with his huge, thick finger.
Some kid opened it. I recognized him. He was a football player from Brad’s class. He was a big kid, defiantly bigger than me. And I promise you, no senior likes it when a sophmore is bigger than him. On the other hand, I guess I’d better get used to it considering my baby brother had become an eight foot tall muscle behemoth.
And this big freshman’s eyes just about popped out of their sockets when he looked up at my kid brother towering over him, his unbelievably massive muscles bulging up allover him and blotting out the sunlight.
“Hey there, Ritchie,” said Brad. “Remember me?” Then he reached over and with one massive arm lifted Ritchie up so they were face to face.
“Oh, my god,” said Ritchie, “Ittle Bitty Bradley?”
“Yeah, but I go by Big Brad now, Big Bad Brad.”
“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked running his eyes all over my brother’s massive from.
“I grew,” said Brad. “A lot.”
“No fucking kidding. Whadda you want?” asked Ritchie, swallowing hard.
“You,” said Brad. “Waddaya think?
“That’s right. You’re so fucking hot.”
“What?” gulped Ritchie. “What did you say?”
“I’ve seen the way you check out other guys in the showers, the same way I do. You like ‘em big, too. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty fucking big now.” Then he flexed his arm making his bicep explode into a vein covered mountain.
Ritchie gulped. “You got it wrong, man,” he said.
“Oh?” said Brad. “Are you saying you want me to leave?”
I could see Ritchie’s eyes looking my brother up and down and then darting back and forth in apparent indecision. “No,” he finally said, “Don’t go.”
My brother grinned form ear to ear. “Then you don’t mind if I come in?” Brad set Ritchie down.
“Sure,” said Ritchie. “Come on in. My parents are out of town.” He licked his lips and disappeared back inside his house. Brad bent over and squeezed himself in through the door. It was a tight fit, but he made it. And then the door closed.
Holy shit! So that’s the way my brother swung. I had no idea.
Ok, I knew what I was about to do was pretty skeevy, but I was still worried about Brad and what he might do, so I snuck over to the windows and looked inside each one until I found them. Thank God it was a ranch style house.
They must have been inside Ritchie’s bedroom. There were football posters on the wall and a single bed. Brad was sitting on top of it, legs spread wide. He was naked again; my bed sheet was now lying in a heap on the ground. And Ritchie was all over him, caressing his pecs, rubbing his nipples, licking his biceps. Brad’s eyes were closed, his head was titled back and he was moaning slightly. Jeeze, his manhood was so fucking huge, bursting out fully erect from his groin. It really didn’t look like it should be on a human being.
But as soon as Ritchie got to it, Brad put out one massive arm and stopped him. “Not yet,” he said. Good thing Ritchie left his window open so I could hear them.
“What? Why?” asked Ritchie.
“I’ve got to make a couple adjustments,” said Brad and he reached over and ripped the shirt off Ritchie’s back. Damn, that kid was built. I mean he was nothing next to my brother but his back was huge and thick for a high school kid. Then he grabbed Ritchie’s waste band and ripped his pants in two, yanking them off him at the same time. He left the guy in his boxer briefs, but Ritchie took care of those, pulling them off in a more conventional manor.
Jeeze, he was a fucking stud. No wonder my brother went for him. Then that fucking stud went down on my brother’s inhuman cock, taking the whole head inside his mouth and moving it around as much as he could. Brad reached out with his huge hands and started running them up and down Ritchie’s muscular back, as he let out moan after moan.
Holy crap, I was actually getting stiff watching this. I mean, I liked girls. They really got me going, but this… This was hot, too. Damn.
Suddenly my brother let out a roar as a torrent of cum shot out of his huge cock and knocked poor Ritchie on his bubble butt. In a few seconds it was over. Brad was gasping. “Fuck,” he said. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.”
Ritchie stood up, just drenched in my brother’s spunk and said, “Jeeze, you cum like a fire hose. That is so hot. Let’s do it again.”
And then my cell phone rang.
“What’s that?” asked Brad.
FUCK! I took off for the neighbor’s yard, fumbling to get the phone open to stop its fucking ringing. I dove through the hedges that separated the two yards and ran all the way around the other side of the neighboring house to hide. Only then did I put it to my ear and say, “Hello?”
“Dude!” said Boz, “We gotta talk. I guess there was a bunch of stuff I forgot to tell you about the hulk pill. My brother is seriously pissed at me. He wants to talk to you. Can you meet us at Beckensdale Park at 8 o’clock?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. I figured Brad would probably be a Ritchie’s for a while.
“Good,” said Boz. “And there’s something else. Don’t go near your brother. And don’t let anyone else go near him for at least a day. Got that?”
“What?” I said. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you over a cell phone. Just meet us at 8.”
“Ok,” I said and he hung up. Well, that sounded ominous.
I had quite a bit of time before I was supposed to meet them so I decided to sneak back over to Ritchie’s yard and check on Brad. I got to the hedge and paused to have a good look around. Everything looked clear so I went for it. I peered back in through the window and saw the two of them on the bed, kissing and fondling each other all over.
Well, it was too late to keep Brad away from Ritchie. But it didn’t look like either of them was going anywhere soon. How was I supposed to keep my massive brother away from people, anyway? The way things were, he could go anywhere he wanted anytime he wanted and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Jeeze, what did Boz expect from me?
My train of thought was broken as suddenly Ritchie broke away from Brad.
“What’s the matter, Ritchie?” asked Brad.
“I don’t know. I feel kind of funny,” he said standing up. He did look a little pale, kind of shaky. Then I heard that strange rumbling and churning again.
Holy crap! Not again.
Then Ritchie started shaking, just like Brad had done. “AHHHHH!” he cried. “What the fuck’s happening?”
And his muscles looked like they might be getting larger. Hell, they were getting larger.
“Jeeze,” said Brad. “I don’t know how, but think it’s catching.”
“Catching? You mean like what happened to you?”
“Yeah, like exactly what happened to me.”
“Holy crap!” cried Ritchie. Suddenly a tremor swept through him; it almost a seemed like a spasm. I could see his arms and legs grow thicker, his biceps pulse, swell up and then bulge, his thighs grow heavier and longer as he inched upward in height. His big pecs began to balloon out further, and his rippling back broadened. And then it seemed to pass. His body loosened up and then he stood there checking himself out.
“Whoa. This is so awesome,” he laughed. He did a double bicep pose. Jeeze, he got big. I mean nowhere as huge as my brother, but damn he looked powerful. He had the neck of a pro linebacker. Huge traps bulged up leading down to cannon ball sized shoulders. His upper arms were like two footballs.
“Fuck, Ritchie, now you’re even hotter,” said Brad.
“Oh yeah,” said Ritchie, practically drooling over his own biceps. “But I want to get big, like you. I want to become a fuckin’ muscle monster! A fuckin’ mountain of muscle, that’s what I wanna be.” Then he suddenly turned to Brad, his eyes went wide and he said, “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. It’s coming again, oh man. I can feel it fucking coming. OH FUUUUUUUUCK!” And his body began just exploding muscle. His chest started pulsing and heaving as it expanded to the size of basketballs. “OOOOH YEAH!” he cried. His shoulders just seemed to stretch out impossibly wide and grow dense with thick, cut muscle. Giant traps rose up next to his widening neck while huge slabs of muscle bulged up out of his back, making his entire body impossibly wide and thick. “AH HA HA HA!” he shouted. His whole frame was stretching up and up as his abs bulged up to the size of my fist. “Let’s do some arms!” he cried and as he flexed his upper arms, they swelled and bulged bigger and bigger until they were nearly twice size of my head, with veins the width of my fingers running up and over their baseball sized peaks.
“So sweet!” he said, as the growth finally stopped. He had to be around 6’ 8” and just one impossibly wide mass of gigantic ripped muscles, one rolling into the next. Brad had enjoyed the entire show from the bed, and Ritchie was now grinning down at him over a pair of massive, striated pecs.
Fuck. There were two of them now. I guess this thing really was catching, kind of like the flu. No wonder Boz wanted me to keep Brad away from people.
“You want this body, Big Bad Brad?” said Ritchie as he admired his new monstrously powerful form. His slightest movement caused huge muscles to twist and bulge beneath his skin.
“Oh hell, yeah,” said Brad. And then the two of them were all over each other again. Only this time it was a lot rougher. The furniture seemed to be getting smashed up pretty good as the two behemoths tried to sexually devour each other. One thing that seemed to go along with all that incredible size and strength was unlimited stamina. I sat there watching them go at it uninterrupted for an hour before my cell phone rang again.
FUCK! Why didn’t I put it on silent?
“There it is again,” said Brad, “That sounded like my brother’s phone.”
I was tearing across the lawn again and diving through the bushes. I looked back just in time to see my brother stick his huge head out the window. His shoulders and traps were way too thick and broad for him to fit through very far, so he had a very limited view, thank God.
I tore back around to the other side of the house again. Damn, Brad would probably be watching for me now. I’d better not go back there.
I answered my phone, slightly out of breath. “Yeah?”
“Hey,” came the voice on the other side of the phone. It was my workout partner, Mike.
“Hey, Mike. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wondering where you were.”
Oh fuck! I looked at my watch. Damn. I was supposed to meet him at the gym a half hour ago.
“Fuck, man! I’m sorry. Something came up and I totally spaced.”
“So, are you coming?”
I had to think about it. I sure as hell wasn’t going near that house again, not with Brad watching for me. And I was pretty sure those two wouldn’t be gong anywhere for a while. I still had a couple of hours before I had to meet Boz. Besides, Mike had a tough time getting away for our workouts. His dad owned a store, and Mike worked there most of the time he wasn’t in school.
“Ok, dude, I’ll be there.”
So, with one last peek at the house, I turned and made my way quickly toward the gym.
Fortunately the gym wasn’t too far away from Ritchie’s house. But while I was on my way over there it hit me that I hadn’t eaten since lunch and I was beyond starving. I stopped off at Subway and had like three sandwiches. I guessed the stress must be getting to me to eat that much. It didn’t take me very long either, so I still got over to the gym pretty quickly. I hated working out in my street clothes, but there really wasn’t much choice today. But as it turned out, Mike had an extra set of clean gym clothes with him and he lent me a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
As we got changed, I couldn’t help checking Mike out a little bit. Spending the last hour staring at a pair of muscle beasts had definitely taken its toll on my self esteem and seeing someone close to my own size was really helping. Of course, Mike had made a lot of progress since he started working out with me last year. He was pretty ordinary looking back then, but now he had broad shoulders, a thick muscular back, prominent pecs, a washboard stomach, and a pair of hard-looking, veiny biceps, and I could see all that new and improved muscle twitching and bulging under his skin as pulled on his tank top and shorts. He almost looked like a different guy. Except for that grin.
Then I realized he was checking me out. “Looking jacked, buddy,” he said. “Are you ready to hit some weights?” And he slapped me on my back. I hadn’t got my shirt on yet, and I felt the sting against my bare skin. For some reason, I really liked it.
We were working chest and shoulders today, and as usual we started with the bench press. I loaded the bar with 180, and slid onto the bench. My goal was 8 reps, but I figured I’d probably only be able to do about 5. I picked the bar off the supports and pounded out 10 reps without blinking. I racked the bar and hopped off the bench.
“Sorry, Mike,” I said, “I didn’t load the bar right.” I checked the weights, but no… There was 180 on there. That can’t be right.
“Mike,” I said, “Is there 180 on there or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”
“Yeah, there’s 180 on there. I told you you were looking jacked.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. Did I look bigger? I couldn’t tell. I mean the shirt felt tight on me but then it wasn’t my shirt so it didn’t count. Could I have caught this hulk pill thing? No. Those guys had exploded with size and muscle. Nothing had happened here that couldn’t be attributed to normal progress at the gym. I decided to try 200. A 200 pound bench press had been the Holy Grail for me for a couple of months, and I mean as a workout weight, not a max weight. I had been having trouble getting past 180.
I loaded the extra 20 pounds hopped on the bench. Fuck, it wasn’t near as hard to lift as I though it would be and before I realized it I’d managed 8 reps.
“Fuck, yeah!” I shouted hopping off the bench. “200 pounds!”
“Jesus, dude, you did it!” said Mike.
I went on to have one of the best workouts of my life. All my lifts were heavier. And Mike had a great workout too. Not, as spectacular as mine, but dammed impressive.
“Working out is finally paying off,” he said rubbing his delt after a personal best set of military presses.
When it was over, I stood there looking at myself in the locker room mirror. I couldn’t fool myself any longer. I was bigger. My pecs looked fuller. My abs looked thicker, with deep crevasses between them. My arms were thicker, and when I flexed, the mass I felt bulge up on my upper arm was defiantly larger than what I was used to. This was more than the normal after workout pump. Something weird was happening. I was a little concerned but at the same time, I looked fucking awesome!
Mike had taken a shower and when he came out he had his back to me as he started toweling off. I had to bite my tongue to keep from gasping. His back was packed with muscle, popping up and bulging out all over. And it was wider and thicker than when I’d seen it just an hour ago. I’d swear it was. And those triceps exploding out of the back of his arms, they hadn’t been that big. And holy crap, Mike had a fucking bubble butt. And his legs, damn, look how wide around they were. Was this the hulk pill thing again? But it made no sense. Mike hadn’t been anywhere near Brad.
“Jeeze, Mike,” I said, “You look like you got bigger.”
“I told you,” he said, turning around, “working out is finally paying off.”
Now I got a look at his front. Holy crap, his pecs were fuller, they had to be. And his abs, they weren’t just visible like they had been; now they looked carved into his stomach. And his shoulders looked broader and his biceps were exploding out of his arms even though they were just hanging by his side. And his cock… Holy fuck, Mike was hung. What was going on here?
Apparently Mike didn’t notice anything until he pulled on his boxers. “Man, this is weird,” he said, reaching down and adjusting his package. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear these weren’t my shorts. It’s like they don’t fit me.”
“That’s ‘cause you got bigger,” I said.
“You mean since last year?”
“No, Mike,” I said, “I mean bigger since you got here.”
Mike laughed. “Yeah, I wish. But this is probably as big as I’m ever going to get. My dad says I can’t work out anymore; I don’t need to be any bigger. He says I shouldn’t be wasting my time in the gym; it would be time better spent working at the store. I swear he never wants me to leave that place, like he never does.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, man. Maybe find an all night gym somewhere and go after he lets me out of that place.”
“You’re telling me. I gotta go,” said Mike. “My dad doesn’t really know I’m here. He’d freak if he did.”
Mike pulled on a tank top and shorts, that didn’t look to different from his workout clothes. Man, how could he not see how much bigger he was? And then with a short wave, he left.
I checked my watch. Damn, I’d better hurry if I wanted to be on time for my meeting with Boz and his brother. I had a lot of questions for him, a lot of questions. But first I had to get something to eat. I was starving again. I didn’t get it. Didn’t I just eat three whole sandwiches? I stopped off at Subway again only this time I had five sandwiches. Ok, this was way beyond normal. Something weird was definitely happening. I needed some answers.
Beckensdale Park was only a couple of blocks away. It was a big park with lots of wooded areas and not much lighting. No one really went in there after dark. I guess that’s why they chose it for our meeting and when I got there Boz and his brother were already waiting for me. I had no problem recognizing Boz’s brother. He looked exactly like Boz only about 10 years older. Boz’s parents had died about 5 years back and ever since then Boz had lived with his brother.
“Hey Boz,” I said.
Boz kind of looked at me with wide eyes and then nodded at his brother. “Yup.” he said to he said. “He’s bigger.”
Then Boz’s brother grabbed my wrist. He was wearing these thick rubber gloves, and before I knew what was happening, he had injected me with something.
“Fuck!” I shouted grabbing my wrist back. “What was that?”
“That was to make you safe. I’m Henry Bozworth,” he said offering his hand, “But you can call me Hank.”
I didn’t take his hand. “What do you mean, “safe?”” I asked.
“I mean unable to spread the nanobots to anyone else,” he said.
“Nanobots?” I said.
“Didn’t my idiot brother explain what that pill was?”
“Ah, well, yeah, but I didn’t really pay attention.” Suddenly I felt really silly for not paying attention. “I mean, he said it was hulk pill for Christ’s sake. Who could possibly take that seriously?”
Hank shot Boz an angry glare before continuing. “It released nanobots into your brother’s system. They rewrote his DNA and then supplied the necessary energy for the transformation.”
“So what has that got to do with me? I didn’t take the damn pill.”
“The nanobots spread throughout your brother’s entire system. They’re in his sweat glands, his endocrine system, his kidneys, his gonads—you get where I’m going with this?”
“Ah, no, not exactly.”
“They’re in his sweat. If he sweats and you touch him, then they will get on you and into your system and start rewriting your DNA. Which apparently they have.”
“What? What makes you say that?”
“Dude, you got bigger,” said Boz. “How can you not see how much bigger you are?”
“I’m not that much bigger. And Brad just exploded. I mean one minute he was my dorky little brother and the next he was a fucking monster. That didn’t happen to me.”
“The contact must have been very brief,” said Hank. “Only a few nanobots must have gotten into your system. But they’re self replicating. There’ll be a lot more by now.”
“Fuck,” I said.
“Dude, I told you not to go near him,” said Boz.
“Yeah, a little late, buddy. So, what did that shot do?”
“I took away their ability to adapt to new DNA. So, if you touch someone it won’t spread.”
“So, I won’t get any bigger?”
“How long ago were you exposed?” asked Hank.
I had to think about that. I must have gotten exposed when Brad grabbed me right after he’d changed. It was just after 8:00 now and I’d gotten home from school around 3:00. “About 5 hours,” I said.
Hank shook his head. “Then I’m sorry, it’s too late. If I’d gotten to you within the first hour there might have been something I could do. But now, there are too many nanobots in your system. It’ll take a little longer, but eventually you’ll be the same size as your brother.”
Well, now that I actually thought about it, growing to Brad’s size didn’t really sound that bad. In fact I was feeling a little jazzed about the whole thing.
“Is that why I’m so hungry all the time?”
“Yes. The nanobots are trying to change you but there are too few of them to produce enough energy to do it. So they’re adjusting your metabolism into helping them do it.”
“Brad didn’t get hungry.”
“That’s ‘cause he got the full dose. Which leads me to the million dollar question,” said Hank. “Where is your brother now? It takes 24 hours for the nanobots to die off after the process is completed. So he’s still very capable of spreading them. We need to find him and either give him a shot or isolate him from everyone else.”
“Ah, he’s at a friend’s house,” I said.
“A friend’s house?” said Boz. “Dude, I told you to keep him away from people.”
“Boz, he’s a ton of massive shredded muscle! You try telling him to do something he doesn’t want to do.”
“Pretty much exactly why the military wasn’t interested in the process,” said Hank.
“Oh, and by the way, his friend weighs a ton now, too.”
“Fuck,” said Hank.
“Yup, saw it happen.”
“What are the odds they’re still at that house?” said Hank, kicking a stone.
“Actually,” I said, considering what they had been doing when I left. “I’d say the odds are pretty good.”
“Well, if they’re still there then we still might be able to contain this thing. What’s the address?” I told him and Hank pulled out his cell phone. He hit speed dial, turned his back on us and walked away.”
“What about you, dude?” said Boz.
“What do you mean, what about me?”
“You think you might have spread those nanobots to anyone? You were contagious, too.”
I instantly thought about Mike. Holy crap, that explained what happened to him. But for some reason I decided not to tell Boz about Mike. I’m not really sure why. Even to this day I can’t explain it, but I didn’t say a word.
Later I got Mike to tell me what happened to him after he left the gym that day. And with a little creative license, this is what he told me—more or less.
As Mike drove home he couldn’t stop thinking about the workout he’d just had. In every exercise he’d upped his usual workout weight by twenty pounds and still had no trouble pounding out ten or more reps. He thought it was amazing. How could he have gotten that much stronger? He wondered if he really be could be bigger like I’d said? He pulled over and flexed and felt his biceps. They really did feel bigger and rounder and harder. And his shirt, even though it was a tank top it was feeling tighter across his chest and upper back. And that wasn’t all. His junk just wasn’t sitting right in his shorts. It felt squeezed in and pinched, and he had to keep adjusting himself. And his shorts seemed to be pulling tight across his hamstrings and quads. He knew he probably wasn’t any bigger. It was probably just some kind of wishful-thinking-mind-fuck, but he didn’t care. It felt incredible.
Mike was starving, so he stopped at Flo’s Diner for the all you can eat special. He ate at Flo’s a lot because it wasn’t far from his father’s store and they gave him a discount. As he walked in, Ruby, the middle aged waitress, looked him up and down and said, “Well, well, look at the young muscle man. You want a booth or should we clear a couple of stools at the counter for you?”
He knew she was teasing him, but no one had ever called him a muscle man before. He kind of liked it. Mike decided to sit in a booth, and as soon as Ruby started bringing the food, Mike started shoveling it down. He couldn’t believe how hungry he was. He cleaned plate after plate after plate until finally Ruby said to him, “Mike, honey, you stay here much longer and we’re going to have to start charging you rent.”
He looked at his watch, and holy crap, he’d been there two hours! Two hours of nothing but solid eating. Whoa. He’d better get home. His father was going to fucking kill him.
He stood up and bumped the table pushing it out about a foot. He stepped out of the booth and self consciously pushed the table back into position. He felt a little dizzy, and he had to take a piss. Mike made his way to the bathroom. He stood in front of the urinal and opened up his fly. The thing that tumbled out startled the hell out of him. Holy fuck! What the fuck was this anaconda? This wasn’t his. This was a monster cock, thick and long, the kind of thing a porn star would have. He stared at it for about a minute before he realized he still had to piss. He let go and it sent out such a powerful stream he had to jump back because the back splash was soaking him. He finished up quickly, shook it off and tucked it back into his shorts—a process that was a little more involved than it used to be. He kept thinking it’s probably only temporary. Maybe I got bit by a bug or something and it just swelled up. It’ll probably shrink back down to normal by tomorrow. But there was a large part of him that really hoped it wouldn’t.
Mike went to the sink to wash his hands but he never actually turned on the tap. He was too distracted by his image in the mirror, more specifically his arms. They were huge. Fuck. Look at those suckers. They looked awesome! His biceps were large curvy masses of stony flesh, wrapped in veins and bulging. They had to be over 18 inches.
He hadn’t been like this in the car. Sure, he’d felt bigger, but not like this. And he was damn sure he hadn’t been like this when he showered that morning. What the fuck was happening?
He flexed an arm and felt that stone-like mass ball up to the size of a grapefruit, pulling the skin tight around it. And his forearms had become broad and powerful, with thick veins running up and down them. Fuck, he felt incredible. He grabbed his bicep with his other hand and squeezed. Like a rock, a fucking rock. Fuck yeah. Who cared how or why this was happening. It was fucking awesome!
In a second he had his shirt off. Damn, his whole body was huge. His chest had gotten as big as a couple of melons. His abs were six chiseled stone blocks and he could see his back had gotten broader, too. Fuck, was he taller? He looked taller.
He pulled a most muscular and felt rock-like hardness erupt out all over him. Damn look at all that fucking muscle. I’m a fucking beast. He let out a little growl just as the bathroom door opened and this overweight, bearded middle aged guy came in. He took one look at Mike posing in the mirror and let out a snicker.
“Hey!” said Mike. “You got a problem, buddy?”
“No, no,” stuttered the guy and he quickly disappeared into one of the stalls, practically tripping over his own feet as he rushed to get away.
Mike grinned. That guy was fucking terrified of him. This rocks!
Mike pulled on his shirt and swaggered out of the bathroom. When he got to the truck, he felt completely different climbing into it. He felt his hard butt and legs on the seat. His arms seemed to sit further out from his body and when he bent them to grab the wheel he could feel those granite hard boulders swelling up on them. Fuck, he felt so good he was actually getting stiff.
On the drive home, it was a challenge keeping his mind on the road. He kept looking down at his pecs or grabbing his bicep. He almost drove off the road twice.
When he got home, he was starving again. His dad wasn’t home yet but his mom had dinner all set out. He just dove into it, eating everything on the table. His mom kept staring at him funny while he ate but she didn’t say anything. Good. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to eat. There had been enough food on that table for three people and he had polished it off before he knew it. He looked up at his mom a little sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was hungry.” He was still hungry.
‘It’s alright,” she said. “You’re a growing boy. I’ll make something else for your father and me when he gets home.”
“You’ve got more?” asked Mike.
“Not ready,” she said, “but there’s plenty in the fridge.”
Mike stood up, bumping the table, upsetting everything on it, and knocking it a couple of feet across the floor. “Sorry,” he said as he started for the kitchen, feeling his large feet thudding heavily on the floor. Was the house shaking? Yeah, it was. Awesome.
He went into the kitchen, noticing how much narrower and shorter the door frame seemed, and headed straight for the fridge. He opened it and just started pulling things out and eating them. He steered clear of the raw meet and eggs, but everything else was fair game. By the time he was done, he had pretty much emptied the fridge. Man, suddenly he was exhausted. He stood back and noticed his mom was standing there staring at him.
“Sorry,” he said again, “but I was just so hungry.”
“It’s alright,” said his mom, “You can just bring some things back with you from the store tonight.”
“I’m not going in tonight,” he said.
“You’re father called. He wants you over there as soon as you’ve finished eating.”
“Fuck that!” said Mike, kind of shocked at himself; he usually never swore in front of his mom. But his dad was crazy if he thought he was going in to the store tonight. “This was my evening off. I’m beat. I’m going to bed.”
“Your father’s not going to be happy.”
“Who cares? Whatever he’s got going on can wait til tomorrow.” Mike turned and stumbled. Damn, he was so tired he could barely lift his feet. As he was walking unsteadily through the door, he hit the frame with his shoulder and felt the wall shudder. Damn, he was getting heavy. He felt heavy. He glanced at his shoulder. Fuck, it looked huge, even bigger than before. Probably his imagination, but damn, he loved it.
He made his way staggering up the stairs. They were creaking and groaning like never before. The stairwell seemed so fucking narrow. He stumbled and slid heavily against the wall. With a crunch and a puff of plaster, he realized he’d knocked a dent in it. He was in for it now. But damn, he’d buckled the wall just by brushing up against it. He was becoming a fucking beast.
He made it to his room, striped off his clothes and pulled on his sleep shirt. A usually loose t shirt, it was so tight against his solid, bulging chest and back. It wasn’t even close to being comfortable. And his sleeves, they were only just covering his fucking huge delts, they didn’t even make it to his mammoth biceps. And the bottom of the shirt wasn’t making it past the center row of his shredded abs. Fuck, he was getting big, real fucking big. But still, he loved the feel of his hard body manhandling the soft cotton cloth. He checked himself out in the mirror. Damn, he didn’t even look like himself. He looked like some kind of hardcore bodybuilder. Where did he get those arms? Fuck, they were incredible.
Sleep came at once, but it was the strangest sleep he could ever remember. At first it was a deep, dreamless well, and then it was restless, full of wild nonsensical dreams. He kept dreaming he was growing, just getting bigger and bigger. His massive chest ripped it’s way out of his shirt, his legs grew longer and incredibly muscled, his arms became as thick as his torso used to be. Slowly every inch of him was turning into muscle, bulges of it, rolls of it, mountains of it engulfing him, swallowing him up in a fleshy armor. But, eventually the dream ended and he slipped back into the deep, dreamless well again.
When he finally woke, his entire body felt like it was encased in cement, so thick and heavy with sleep, he could barely move. For some reason his head was jammed up against the headboard. He was in the fetal position, bent at both the waist and knees, but somehow it felt as if his feet were jammed up against the footboard. That couldn’t be right.
He straightened out his legs and heard a tremendous crack as the footboard snapped off and his feet shot off the end of the bed. The noise helped shock him awake. What the fuck?
Mike sat up. The first thing he noticed was how easy it was to sit up. He didn’t think it had ever felt so effortless before. And there was also the sense that he’d just moved a helluva lot more weight when he sat up then was usual, which seemed to contradict the ease at which he did it.
He went to rub the sleep out of his eyes but something was keeping his arms from bending the way they usually did. He had to hold his elbows out further and bend his arms as less of an angle to do it. He was still trying to clear away the haze of sleep and sort through all the weirdness… and then he caught sight of a pair of gigantic, ripped-to-hell muscle legs, spread out on the bed before him. What the fuck? Those couldn’t be… They just couldn’t be his legs. Fuck, they were. He could feel that they were. And holy shit they were huge. No, they went beyond huge. He had a queen size bed and they practically took up the whole thing. They had immense quads, enormous hamstrings, all standing out against layer after layer of ripped, bulging sinew. Each leg looked like it weighed a quarter ton. Fuck, look at those things. His gigantic shredded thighs were definitely wider around than a jumbo barrel.
He flexed them, turned them slightly and watched the sinew writhe and swell under his skin. Damn, he could feel it. He could feel the hardness of them, the power in them, and all that fucking muscle bulging out all over. They were real. This was no fucking dream.
He reached out to touch them and that’s when he saw his arms. Holy crap! They were massive. His forearms were the size his thighs used to be. He saw dozens of thick tendons and cords undulating all along them as he wriggled his sausage sized fingers. Then he closed his huge fist, bent his elbow and watched mount bicep erupt into existence. Oh fuck yeah. He was packing some heavy duty artillery now. Look at that thing. It was colossal, a hard mound of flesh the size of a freakin basketball, with a vein snaking around it and diapering into his fucking planetoid of a delt. It was a fucking beautiful thing and it felt amazing.
He stretched out and got a sense of how fucking wide he was. From massive shoulder to massive shoulder he was wider than his bed. Fuck it looked tiny now, like a toy. His whole fucking room looked tiny now. He swung his monster legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He could feel what seemed like a ton of hard, bugling muscle moving around on his frame as he lifted his ponderous torso from the bed. Up, up and up he kept rising until his head nearly scraped the ceiling. Fuck… Fuck, he had to be almost 8 fucking feet tall! And he was so fucking wide, with so much fucking muscle. A grin lit up his face as he stood there just enjoying the feel of being so gigantic, the weight, the unadulterated massiveness of his body, so much pure strength exploding out all over him in granite-hard, immensely powerful muscle. Just breathing felt awesome. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the sensation of his massive striated chest heaving in and out. The weight of it and the ease with which his body seemed to move it was fucking amazing. And it stuck out so far in front of him that he had to bend waaaay over to see his feet. He raised his hands to do a double bi, but wound up knocking them against the opposite walls of his room and leaving holes in the plaster. Damn, he was so fucking enormous and strong—just a fucking colossus. He tired to use the full length mirror to check out his abs, but those immense muscle bricks were too fucking enormous to fit in the mirror all at once and he had to shift form side to side to see them all. And his cock… yeah, the mirror just about squeezed that in. Damn. He was a fucking muscle monster now! And he liked it… no, he fucking loved it.
“Mike!” he heard his father calling from downstairs. “Mike, get your lazy ass out of bed. It’s time to go to work.”
Mike grinned. He couldn’t help it. This was going to be so fucking sweet. He flexed his arms again and just reveled in the thick, heavy feel of them exploding with immense, powerful muscles. Dear old dad was going to get the shock of his life. He lay back down on the bed. It squeaked and groaned like it was going to collapse any second. He tried to cover himself with the blanket. Forget it. He was lying on his side and his fucking gargantuan shoulders went half way to the ceiling. He was a fucking muscle mountain now and that skimpy blanket did nothing to hide his massive bulk. So sweet. But his dad would notice the giant muscles under the blanket and that would ruin the surprise.
He got up and pulled the mattress and box spring from his bed. He was amazed at how easy it was. It took less effort than moving one of his pillows had yesterday. He laid the mattress and box spring on the floor next to his bed so they wouldn’t be immediately obvious from the doorway. Then he squeezed his bulk down inside the bed frame, being very careful not to put too much pressure against the sides. He didn’t want it breaking apart, at least not yet. Then he pulled the blanket back over him again. Fuck. Even though he was lying on the floor, two feet below mattress level, he still looked way bigger under the blanket than he should have, but it would have to do. His body was fucking immense now and there was only so much he could do to hide it.
He spent the next few minutes jammed into position listening to his dad call his name, getting madder and madder. Good. Mike chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. He just hoped he could keep a straight face until the right moment. But damn, his dad was taking his time. Mike wished he’d get a move on. An enormous muscle body like his wasn’t meant to be cramped up like this. But there was one consolation. His face was crammed right up against his massive steel-like bicep and he was really enjoying staring at the ponderous size of his well defined arm muscle, feeling it’s rock-like harness against his cheek, and his cheek’s smoothness against it’s stony surface. Fuck. He was getting hard.
“Michael get up this instant!” shouted his dad had he stormed into the room—without knocking Mike noted. Well, this was the last time that was going to happen.
“Don’t try and tell me you’re sick,” said his dad. “Yesterday you were strong as a horse.”
And today I’m as strong as 10 fucking bulls, thought Mike grinning.
“I feel a little weird,” said Mike, barely able to keep from laughing.
“You’re not sick.”
“Not so much sick,” said Mike, “But I do feel a little… swollen.” And then he stood up, letting the blanket cascade off his massive chest, past his heaving abs, and drop to the floor. “But not sick.” He looked down at his dad, looking so fucking tiny. His head barely came up to Mike’s humungous pecs. Mike couldn’t believe he’d ever been intimidated by this fucking little midget.
“Ah… ah,” stammered his dad, stumbling backwards. “Mike? Oh my God. What the fuck happened?”
“Don’t know,” said Mike. “Woke up like this. But it’s a big improvement, don’t you think?” He grinned evilly down at his dad.
“Ah… Ah—” said his dad, “—the store… we’ve got to—ah… get to the store.”
“Oh yeah, about that,” said Mike, taking a step toward his dad, looming over him and forcing the older man to step back. “I’m not ready to go in just yet. I really need my sleep, being a growing boy and all.” He flexed his massive, rock hard bicep in front of his dad’s face. His bicep was bigger than his dad’s entire head, way bigger. His dad’s eye practically blew out of their sockets. Life was good.
He took another step toward his dad, who now backed himself up against the wall. “And when I do come in, we’re going to have a little talk about working conditions.” Mike leaned over his dad, looking straight down on him, reached over with his huge forefinger and started tapping the wall next to his dad’s head. The whole room shook. Mike fucking loved that.
“Like what?” asked his dad.
“Like maybe you paying me?
“You get your room and board,” said his dad.
Mike applied a little pressure to the wall with his forefinger and it punched through it as though it were made of cardboard. His dad jumped. Mike Grinned.
“But we might work something out,” said his dad, his eyes sliding down to Mike’s member which Mike noticed, without too much surprise, was huge, long, and hard.
“Sorry about that,” said Mike. “Just a little morning wood. You know how it is.” Mike’s dad gulped.
“—or maybe you don’t,” smirked Mike, looking at his dad’s short, squat overweight frame.
Mike’s dad rushed past him and headed straight for the door.
“And another thing,” said Mike, stopping his dad in his tracks, “none of my clothes will fit me anymore. I know we’ve got some big stuff down at the store. See what you can do.”
“Yeah, sure, fine,” said his dad, scuttling out the door. Mike could hear him racing down the stairs. He chuckled. He looked down and made his massive pecs leap and bounce. They felt incredible. His whole body felt incredible, massive, powerful, like he could do anything. Oh yeah, things were gonna change around here; that was for sure.
He was still trying to figure out what to do next when his cell phone rang. It was me, of course.
“Mike,” I said. “Are you allright?”
“I’m fucking fantastic,” said Mike.
“You grew, didn’t you? Huge?”
“Pretty fucking huge,” he said. “How did you know?”
“I’m coming over,” I said. “I’ll tell you when I get there. In the mean time, don’t go anywhere and most especially, whatever you do, don’t touch anyone.”
While Mike had been scarfing down Flo’s all you can eat special, I was in Beckensdale Park, with the Boz bros.. Hank was still on the phone. I had no idea what he was saying because what ever it was, he was saying it 30 yards away.
“So, who’s your brother talking to, Boz?” I asked.
“The people he works with, I think,” said Boz. “They don’t want this hulk pill thing to get out of control.”
“They’re not going to hurt my brother, are they?” I asked, suddenly afraid for Brad. But then I thought about it. Brad wasn’t my skinny little brother anymore. He was a muscle giant, just exploding all over with massive ripped muscles. His upper arms were so humongous, he almost couldn’t fit them sideways through doors. I wasn’t sure he could be hurt. Still, I didn’t want anyone trying.
Boz looked kind of uncertain. “I don’t think they’re going to hurt him,” he said. But he wasn’t entirely convincing.
Just then Hank got off the phone, and came over to us. “Well come on, let’s go,” he said.
“Go where?” I asked.
“To get your brother and stop this thing from going any further,” he said.
Their car wasn’t far away, and I have to say as soon as I climbed into it, I began to have an appreciation for just how much bigger I was getting. I had to sit in the front because there wasn’t enough leg room for me in the back. Even then I felt a little crammed in and not just with my legs. I was getting wider, too. I had to jam my shoulder right up against the car window so I wouldn’t get in the driver’s way. And, damn, I could feel how much bigger the solid ball of muscle, my delt, had become. Holy crap, this was awesome.
I gave Hank directions, and we arrived at Ritchie’s house at about the same time as three big vans. The back doors opened and a bunch of guys with rifles piled out. They all had ear pieces and radios on. Hank pulled out an earpiece of his own and stuck it in his ear.
“What’s going on, Hank?” I asked as we got out of the car. “Who are these guys?”
“We have to make sure your brother and his friend get their shots,” said Hank.
“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
“That depends entirely on him,” said Hank.
The rifle guys were circling the house, peering in through the windows just like I had done earlier, except they were shining flashlights in the darkened rooms. I knew what window to check but for some reason I didn’t feel like telling them. Still I could see two guys shining lights into Richie’s bedroom window.
“They’ve acquired the targets,” said Hank.
“Targets?” I said. I saw them raise their rifles and aim at the windows. But before I could say anything I heard rifle shots along with the tinkling of shattered glass.
“What did you just do?” I shouted.
“Relax, kid,” said Hank. “They were just darts. It was the fastest and easiest way to get the stuff into their systems.
Suddenly I heard an earthshaking roar, and about a second later the side of the house exploded into shards as Brad and Ritchie busted right through it and out onto the lawn. Fuck, look at them. The two of them were enormous, bulging walls of throbbing, pulsating muscle, and they were fucking pissed.
Brad grabbed one of the rifle guys with his mammoth hands and ripped the weapon away from him. Then he took the gun and just snapped it in half. Then, massive arms bulging and writhing, he started ripping it apart piece by piece. He had this evil grin on his face as h e crushed each piece into foil. Then he looked down at the guy and said, “You’re next, dude.” The guy took off running. Who could blame him? But the others didn’t. Some of them opened fire.
“Stop!” I shouted, but it was too late. Brad clutched his gigantic chest and then tumbled to the ground, and Ritchie went down right after him. Man, did the earth shake? “You killed them!” I cried.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Hank. “They’re just knocked out. We had to use a tranquilizer strong enough to take down a bull elephant, but they’ll be alright.”
I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but I was still mad. “None of this would have been necessary if you had just knocked on the door and explained things.”
“Too dangerous,” said Hank. “It was better this way.”
Then I saw a bunch of guys—like 20 of them—gathering around Brad and Ritchie. They were hoisting them up and carrying them away.
“Hey, what’s going on? Where are they taking them?”
“Well, we can’t just leave them passed out on the ground all night,” said Hank. “What kind of people would we be if we did that? We’ll just take them back to the shop and make sure they’re ok. And you know, run a few tests on them while we’re at it. We’ll let them go in the morning.”
“Let them go?”
“I meant they can go when they wake up.”
“Sure you did,” I said.
“Hey, buddy,” said Hank. “I don’t think you entirely appreciate your own personal situation here. You can’t spread the nanobots and you don’t look like you’ve been exposed—yet. Plus we can get all the information we need from these two, so I don’t have to tell them you’ve been affected too. Be smart and keep it that way, ok?” Then Hank walked off. It was all I could do to keep myself from going after him and tearing him to bits. And I wouldn’t have needed any hulk pill to do it either. He wasn’t big at all. But he did have a lot of friends with guns.
“Boz, you’re brother’s a real asshole,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” said Boz.
I felt so helpless as I watched them put Brad and Ritchie in separate vans—they were way too big to fit in one. But there was nothing I could do. Suddenly I really wanted to be huge like them, eight feet tall and a giant mass of enormous shredded muscle. Then maybe I could do something. I could already feel my clothes getting tight. In fact they weren’t just tight, they were squeezing me. And I have to admit when I thought about why they were squeezing me—because I was slowly turning into an eight foot muscle god—I got fucking hard. God, I could almost feel those huge shredded arms hanging by my side, that massive chest jutting out in front of me. But it’d be hours, maybe days before I was big enough to take these guys on.
“I wish I was big already,” I said.
“Really?” said Boz, looking at me and turning kind of red.
“Yeah,” I said. “I can’t do much for Brad like this.”
“Ok,” he said, follow me. And then Boz walked over toward one of the nearby houses where all the lights were off and it looked like no one was home. I followed him toward the backyard.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Someplace not in the open,” he said. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind but I followed him, anyway. We walked until we were completely out of the view of the guys with the vans.
“The way I think it works,” said Boz, stopping and turning to me, “is the more of those little nanodudes you got running around inside you, the faster you grow.”
“So, what I need is more nanobots. Great,” I said. “I can’t exactly run down to the corner store for some, can I?”
“Nah,” laughed Boz, “I guess not. But you could always take this.” He produced another one of those harmless looking capsules from his pocket.
“Jeeze, Boz is that another hulk pill?”
“How many of those things do you have?”
“Just this one,” he said. “My brother gave it to me. He still wants me to take one. But, dude, I seriously don’t want to.”
“Jeeze, dude, you should. You saw Brad and his friend. They’re gigantic! And holy fuck, the muscles on them, they’re freakin insane. They could throw trees around like twigs. Don’t you want to be like that? I sure as hell do.”
“I’d like it better if you took it,” he said.
“You’re so jacked already,” he said. “And you’re so nice to me; not a lot of people are.” At this point he blushed and even though we were completely alone he still looked around like he wanted to see if anyone was in the area. “Don’t get mad at me,” he whispered, “But sometimes I have these fantasies about you—growing, getting huge, you know, with just enormous bulging muscles all over your body. It makes me so horny I can’t see straight.”
Boz was into me? I didn’t know what to say. I never had a clue.
“I bet you hate me now, don’t you?” said Boz.
“I don’t hate you,” I said. “We’re all different. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Really?” he said, brightening. “Here.” he held the hulk pill out to me. “Take it if you want. Actually, I’d really like it if you would.”
I seriously didn’t need to be asked again. I took the thing and popped it into my mouth, and got ready to get massive..
I didn’t have to wait long. In seconds I heard that churning and rumbling sound—only this time it was coming from me! And suddenly I felt a searing orgasmic sensation building in my body. “Oh man!” I cried, as it got stronger and tore through me. I began to shake. It was like every muscle I owned was having an erection, getting thicker, heavier. I could feel myself bulking up, my arms, my legs, my back—every fucking thing getting bigger, harder, stronger, and God, it felt incredible. “Oh fuck,” I breathed, “it’s happening. It’s actually happening.”
. I flexed my arm and suddenly my bicep was a fucking boulder, easily twice the size it used to be. What a sight! Veins popping out and everything. I could feel my shirt sleeve straining around it, like tissue straining against granite. My arm looked and felt amazing.
“Oh shit, Boz,” I said, “Fucking look at me.”
“Dude,” said Boz, “you’re huge.”
“No I’m not,” I said, “but I will be.” I flexed my other arm and it bulged up even bigger. Look at that. Holy shit. I felt the biceps growing larger and harder, like they were trying to break through my skin. I heard threads popping and cloth tearing as my guns just exploded out of my sleeves. Fuck, look at those things; look how much bigger they got! They had split heads and fucking peaks on them now. They were the kind of arms I’d always wanted but were still years away.
And I knew this was only the beginning. I could feel it boiling inside me like an unstoppable chemical reaction. Any second it would reach critical and my body would explode with mass. Any second. I could feel it.
Bring it on!
“Jesus,” said Boz. “watching you grow is the most intensely sexy thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You like it, Boz? It’s getting me pretty fucking hard. What about you?” I looked down and could see that he was, way hard. I could see it right through his pants as they draped over his skinny little stick legs. I looked down at me. Fuck. I had an enormous bulge in my pants. I was huge! And, Jeeze, I was getting bigger! Holy crap, I could feel my cock actually starting to split my underwear apart with swelling, throbbing pleasure. And fuck, I could tell it was becoming monster sized. It was so big and hard and it felt so good, too damn good. And I was sooooo horny.
And my legs, oh fuck, my legs. I could feel my hamstrings and quads bulking up. Like balloons someone was filling with cement, they were getting huge and hard, and I could feel my pants pulling tight around them. So awesome. All that muscle was a part of me and yet it felt like iron, filling my pants, making the heavy cloth feel light and feeble next to their incredible density. As the cloth got tighter and tighter I could see the different muscles separating out and taking shape beneath it. And I could feel them just exploding with power. So fucking awesome.
And I could feel my monster cock inching down my pants as it grew, rubbing against my hard, bulging leg. What a fucking sensation! Wet stains were starting to appear on my pants.
“Damn. My legs. Boz, check out my fucking legs.” And then the seams started popping. Oh fuck. The thick fabric started ripping, tearing, flying apart, as my mammoth iron quads forced their way out into the open. So fucking huge, so fucking strong. “YES!” I shouted. I felt so good, so powerful, like a fucking animal.
“Fuck, dude,” whispered Boz.
“Yeah, Boz. Take a good fucking look.” And I flexed my enormous thighs for him, and damn if I didn’t see a wet patch spreading out from his crotch.
And it wasn’t just my legs. I could feel my entire upper body altering as large sinewy masses heaved their way out of it. My shoulders pushing, enlarging, stretching out broader, my torso was swelling thicker, becoming solid with dense, heavy muscle. I pulled my shirt up exposing my stomach, and ran my hand over it. I could feel the skin kind of shrinking in around the six hard, growing rocks. Damn. And below, a tapering net of veins from my abs down to my crotch, where the giant bulge was just barely covered by the last remains of my pants.
“You’re huge!” he said. “Now you’re fucking huge!”
Holy crap, I was. Boz had been just a little bit shorter than me before all this had started but now he looked so puny. I was towering over him. My fucking chest had to be twice the width of his skinny little body, and my shoulders twice as broad as his. Fuck, I dwarfed him… And suddenly I realized I would dwarf most guys. I instantly got hard as a rock.
And my cock, shit, it was a monster. It was so fucking hard and it was growing fast. In a matter of seconds, it split my underwear apart and exploded out. Fuck. It was huge and thick. Hell, it felt powerful, like it could fucking lift weights with it. It was so awesome. I couldn’t believe how fucking hard I was, and the head felt so much more sensitive.
Boz moaned. “Fuck, dude, this is way more than I expected. You’re such a fucking beast… “ Then he reached forward with both hands and grabbed my cock. The effect was a blast of pleasure. His hands on my monstrous meat—it was an insane feeling. I gasped.
“Sorry,” he said, dropping it. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s ok, Boz. Go ahead. Fucking do it.”
At first Boz looked like he wasn’t sure if I was serious or not. But then he grabbed by cock again, stuck out his tongue and started to flit and dart with it all around the head. FUCK! It was a mind ripping sensation, and the feeling seemed to tear through my body as the growth kicked into high gear.
“FUCK!” I shouted, as my chest exploded out into massive boulders of pulsating sinew disintegrating my t shirt. I could feel my back rapidly expanding with hard, dense muscle, pushing outward, shoving the pathetic remains of my t shirt to the ground. My shoulders, my arms, they were passing huge, becoming immense, bulbous masses of throbbing muscle as my thighs bulged out thick and hard to new dimensions. I felt like I was all fucking muscle, all fucking power. Nothing could stop me and I fucking loved it.
“Oh yeah! I’m A FUCKING MONSTER!”
Boz stopped. He was just staring up at me and shuddering, gasping, and moaning. He was orgasming, just by looking at my fucking massive growing body. No one had ever cum just by looking at me before, and it was making me even more horny. The sensation running up my rod fed the swelling power in my body and made me feel like I was going to ignite. Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck. I could feel it building. I was going to explode with growth. “OH FUCK!!!!” I shouted as I felt myself stretching toward the sky and expanding outward in every direction as massive rock-hard muscles just kept bursting out of me. My expanding pecs—the fucking weight of them… I could tell it was more than I would have been able to lift just five minutes ago, and now they were a fucking part of me—instruments of incredible fucking power and they were mind to command. I was truly becoming a muscle god.
I sensed my mammoth arms being pushed out further and further from the side of my heaving body while at the same time I could feel then growing impossibly dense with layer upon layer of thick woven sinew. My biceps alone probably weighed more than Boz’s skinny little body. Behind me I could feel my lats and gluts bloating with mass. My six pack exploded into eight enormous rock-hard bulges, barely contained by my skin. It felt like boulders were erupting up all over me, stretching out and covering every inch of my frame with unbelievable power. I was fucking huge and hard and solid all over. Fuck. I was every inch of eight feet tall, and so fucking massive I felt like a fucking mountain.
And then I came. A fucking torrent of cum just shot out of my cock, knocking Boz to the ground, the same way Brad had knocked over Ritchie. He lay there gasping and sputtering, trying to wipe the ocean of jizz from his face, and he couldn’t stop staring at me. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t stop staring at me. My body was a mass of veiny hills and valleys, one huge, bulging mound just rolling into another. My slightest move caused even the smallest of them, to furiously expand under my skin, giving me command of what felt like limitless power. I felt so fucking good, like I could do anything. I flexed my arm; the motion, the sensation, all completely different now. I couldn’t bend it nearly as much as I used to but the explosion of mass and power I felt erupt from my arm way more than made up for it. Fuck. My bicep was huge; it had a split head and was as big around as a truck tire with a vein thick as a garden hose snaking around it. I could hardly believe it was mine. But it was. I could feel every solid, powerful inch of it blasting out of my arm. I was ready to go after Brad.
“Come on Boz, let’s go,” I said, and I turned and started running back toward the street. Damn, my body felt amazing. I could feel the giant stone-like masses that were my quads bulging and relaxing under my skin with each stride. If felt my feet sink into the earth leaving huge, deep footprints in my wake. I felt my enormous heavy pecs bouncing in front of me. My body was alive with muscle.
But by the time we got back to Ritchie’s house, there was no sign of the vans.
I was frustrated. I was huge, a fucking monster, but I still couldn’t help Brad. I pulled back my massive leg and let it fly, kicking a fire hydrant. Fuck, the thing snapped off and went flying up into the night sky where I lost sight of it pretty quickly. A second later I head a far-off crash followed by a car alarm going off while a geyser of water was erupting from the hole where it had been.
Boz ran up.
“Damn!” I said. “We missed them. They’re gone.”
“Oh no,” he cried, falling to his knees.
Ok, I was upset but this seemed like kind of an overreaction. “You ok, Boz,” I asked.
But Boz just dropped down to all fours and started shaking and sputtering. “No—” he said. “It’s not fair. You were supposed to be safe. Hank told be you were safe—Nunngh!” And then I saw Boz’s sneakers rip apart mammoth feet tore out of them.
Holy fuck, it was happening to him, too. “Oh Jeeze, Boz, I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess that pill you gave me charged me up again. But, dude, you’ll love it. It’s fucking awesome.”
“I don’t want this,” he said, as his hands began stretching out, getting thicker. I could see his back starting to bulge and swell under his shirt, pulling it tight around him.
“But Boz, it’s awesome.” I said. “You’re going to be awesome. Can’t you feel it?”
“What?” said Boz.
“Your body; feel how hard and strong it’s getting.”
“I feel… I feel huge, hard lumps boiling out of me. I can’t stop it. Help me, I can’t stop it.” And then there was a tearing, rending sound as Boz’s shirt ripped right down the center, exposing a back that had grown thick and wide with muscle.
“Sit up, Boz,” I said. “Sit up and look me in the eye.”
Boz got off his hands and stared up at me. Jeez, those nanobots were amazing. Already Boz looked like a junior bodybuilder. His neck had gotten thick, his arms filled his sleeves, and his chest was starting to bully his shirt front.
“Now, feel your body, Boz. Come on, do it for me,” I said.
Boz took his hand and ran it across his burgeoning pecs. “It feels all hard and lumpy.”
“Does it feel bad?”
“—no, not exactly—”
“Flex something,” I said. “Go on flex your pecs.”
I saw Boz’s swelling pecs leap and push at his tightening shirt. “Whoa,” he said. “That felt weird. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Yeah, but did it feel good?” I asked.
“Kinda,” he said.
“Flex your legs,” I said.
I saw a pair of big quads heave up inside his pant legs. “Holy crap,” said Boz. “Those are my legs. My legs are doing that!”
“They feel strong, don’t they?” I said.
“You like feeling strong, don’t you Boz?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I do,” he said. “It’s just… you know, I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Boz stood up, his arms arched out slightly to the side. Fuck, he looked big, like a guy who lived in a gym. I could see his chest and shoulders completely filling out his shirt and his thighs stressing his jeans. He looked at me and flexed his right arm. His bicep exploded with size. Damn.
“Whoa, Boz, look at that gun,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said, staring at his own arm, “It feels… it feels incredible!.”
He brought up his other arm for a double bi. I watched his sleeves slide off those, large, boulder-like mounds and bunch up below his ballooning shoulders. Pop, pop, riiiip, and his sleeves just broke apart, shredding and rolling back like the peel on a banana. His arms looked bigger than any jock at school—really fucking strong and yet I knew he was only a shadow of what he would become.
“My back,” he said. “Damn, my back feels huge.”
Then he turned around. I could see his muscular back through the widening tear already in his shirt, and then he flexed. Snap, snap, snap riiiiiip and his shirt exploded into shreds, releasing a thick wall of solid muscle.
“Oh yeah,” he called “I’m liking this.”
He turned and fuck, in jus that couple of seconds, he’d gotten a hell of a lot broader. “I feel completely different,” he said, “so fucking powerful. It’s amazing.”
Then he flexed his upper body and his t-shirt split apart as his mammoth chest and back burst out. “Fuck yeah!” he shouted, as his body started shaking. “Let’s get fucking huge!”
And his body began exploding with muscle. Fuck. I mean I’d seen it before, but fuck. Muscles just kept bursting out of Boz, bulging up, stretching out, and piling up on top of each other all over him. And he started laughing as monstrous traps rose out of his broadening back and his chest grew from melons to basketballs to fucking china balls. His abs bulged up, then, pulsing with his laughter, they doubled in size and doubled again. I saw his pants split and fall apart, destroyed by ridiculously huge, ripped hamstrings and quads. And as all these muscles erupted out of him, he was shooting upwards, getting taller and taller, while all the time more impossibly huge muscles burst up under his skin, swelled and bulged. The dorky kid I knew was gone. He’d been engulfed by muscle, a huge fucking mountain of it.
“Yeah!” he screamed, lifting up his massive arms. “Check me out! I’m fucking humungous!” And he was. I saw his gargantuan lats spread out behind him, making his upper body seem impossibly wide. His intercostals were as thick as tree branches. Boz had become a wall of unstoppable massive, heaving power, and he was loving it! He flexed and stared and flexed and stared, like he was trying to eat up his whole body with his eyes.
“Yeah, dude!” he shouted. “Now let’s go get your fucking brother!”
“Yeah?” I said. “And how are we supposed to do that. They’re gone, remember?”
“It’s ok,” said Boz. “I know where they took them.”
I felt like thumping my head. Of course Boz knew where his brother worked. “Good, we’ll just go break them out of there,” I said.
“I don’t know,” said Boz. “There are a lot of guys with guns there. You think we can do it?”
I had to think about that. We were pretty huge, but so were Brad and Ritchie, and they had gone down pretty easy. “Maybe not by ourselves,” I said. I ran back to the yard where I had changed, and quickly rifled through the pathetic scraps of cloth that used to be my clothes. It didn’t take me long to find my cell phone. God, it was so tiny and looked so fragile, I wasn’t sure I could dial it, a least not without accidentally breaking it into bits. It was awkward but somehow I managed it.
I called Mike, but there was no reply. I didn’t know it at the time, but Mike was fast asleep and going through his own growth spurt.
“Well, Boz,” I said, hanging up, “I guess there’s only one thing we can do. We’ll just have to go on a little recruiting drive.”
“So, who are we going to change first?” asked Boz.
“I don’t know, Boz,” I said. “We’ll have to pick some of our friends… as long as they’re over 16.”
“Really?” said Boz, “Why?”
“I don’t know. Suddenly I just feel really uncomfortable about changing anyone under 16.”
“What about Bradley? Isn’t he 14?” asked Boz.
“No, dude, he’s 16. A lot of people made that mistake because he was so small and looked so young, but he’s 16. If you think about it, you’ll remember.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Boz, “he is 16, isn’t he?”
“So who should we change first?”
“You’re thinking about it all wrong, Boz,” I said. “We can’t do it one guy at a time. That would take way too long. We’ve got to do it all at once.”
“How are we supposed do that?” asked Boz.
“We’re gonna need help. We need a guy who loves muscle but who’s still normal,” I said.
“Why do we need someone normal?” asked Boz. “Why can’t we just change him? I think all guys should look like us!” said Boz, putting his hands on his hips and spreading his huge, thick lats. “It’s awesome.”
“Jeeze, Boz, think about it,” I said flexing my fucking mountain of a bicep. Oh man, all that hard muscle exploding out of my arm felt fucking incredible, and looked just as good. Damn, it was so easy to get distracted. I had to think about Brad now.
“If any normal guy turned a corner and saw us,” I continued, “what do you think he’d do?”
“Probably run,” said Boz. “But a lot of good that would do him with fucking legs like these to chase him down.” Boz flexed his oil barrel thighs and watched the separate heads swell and writhe beneath his skin. “Fuck, I’m incredible,” he said. Jeeze, it didn’t take him long to fall in love with his new body.
“Well, we’re built more for power than speed,” I said. “But still our legs are much longer than any ordinary guy’s so we’d probably still catch ‘em. But I don’t want to spend my night chasing guys. I just want to fucking change them and then go get Brad. That’s why we need a normal guy to front for us.”
“If you say so,” said Boz. “I still think chasing them down and changing them would be awesome.” He was still making his mammoth thighs bulge and relax. “But I’ll do it for little Bradley.”
I was about to correct Boz about the little Bradley thing, when I suddenly realized that we might be bigger than Brad. He might actually be little Bradley again. Now wouldn’t that be awesome.
Now for our front guy we chose Anthony Gonzales. He was a good guy and Boz said he had a thing for muscle so he was the logical first choice.
Later, after it was all over, I asked Anthony what he’d thought when he first saw us. So, I put together this next part of the story from what he told me—well, you know, I had to fill in the boring parts a little, but this is mostly what he told me.
Anthony was lying on his bed, reading about the fastest way to get six pack abs in the latest edition of Men’s Health. Damn, he loved looking at the pictures. All the models in the mag were hot. He looked at their cut stomachs and then at his own slightly pudgy middle and wondered if it were even possible for him to get six pack abs. Suddenly he heard a voice calling his name through his open bedroom window.
He’s dropped his magazine, went to his first story window and looked out. It was dark out there and he really couldn’t see anyone.
“Who’s there?” he called.
“It’s me,” said the voice, “Boz.”
Ahh… ok, he thought. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Boz, but what are you doing outside my window at 10-fucking-30 at night? And what are you, on a ladder?” Anthony’s room was on the second story and he could tell Boz wasn’t on the ground. His voice sounded way to close for that.
“Ah, not exactly,” said Boz, laughing. “It’s way cooler than that. Come out and see.” That was Boz’s voice, but there was something different about it, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Ok, Anthony knew this was a little weird. First of all he should have been able to see something out his window, even a shadow or a shape, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Right up next to the house, below your window,” said Boz, “but don’t look. You have to come down. I promise you, you won’t be sorry.”
Anthony stuck his head out the window to look and felt the ground shake. He was just in time to see a huge shadow disappear around the corner of the house. Damn, whatever that was, it was massive; it sure as hell wasn’t Boz.
But it was something.
Damn, now he was curious. Whatever was going on he had to know.—even if he was being punked. He pulled on his sneakers and headed for the back door. He flipped on the flood lights and headed outside. There was no one in sight.
“Boz,” he called as he peered into the night, “where are you?”
“Over here, behind this tree,” came Boz’s voice. There was a giant pine tree in Anthony’s back yard. It was about 15 feet wide at the base and about 30 feet tall and he couldn’t see who or what was on the other side.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Come over here and see,” said Boz. “But you’ve got to promise not to freak.”
“Freak?” said Anthony, “as if anything you could do would make me freak.” Anthony rounded the corner and froze. There in front of him were two massive muscle gods. Holy crap they were gargantuan—so much fucking muscle all over them; they looked like they were fucking made of muscle. They had to be about eight feet tall, and about five feet wide at the shoulders, with huge thick mountainous traps dwarfing their fire plug necks and brushing the back of their skulls. They had gigantic, satiated wrecking ball delts that split into three distinct massive muscle groups and they were all sitting on top of enormous, veined wrapped upper arms that looked bigger than car tires. Their forearms were as thick around as Anthony’s waste. Their chests were two beach balls except hard, solid and ripped.
Anthony counted eight concrete slabs of abdominal muscle leading down into bed sheets twisted into loin cloths. And there was obviously something else hidden by those loin cloths, bulging out and pulling them tight.
And their legs, crap, their thighs were so big around, they dwarfed Anthony’s entire body and he could see each and every gigantic leg muscle bulge and ripple under their skin as they shifted their weight from foot to foot.
Holy crap they were gargantuan—so much fucking muscle; everywhere you looked from head to foot. Bulging, ripped, gargantuan muscles just erupted out all over them. Fuck. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. They made the models in his magazine look like feeble children. They almost didn’t look human.
One of them had Boz’s head. That’s where the resemblance stopped, though. The neck below the head widened out to the width of a telephone pole and was bulging with thick, corded muscle. And that lead down past mountainous traps to that immense body.
Then Anthony did what any guy with two brain cells would do; he turned and ran for his life.
“He’s freaking,” said the mountain that looked like Boz.
“Yup,” said the other.
“Can I run him down?” asked the first.
“Ok,” said the second, “but don’t hurt him… and don’t touch his skin!”
It was only a couple of seconds later that Anthony felt a huge, powerful hand clamp around his middle and lift him clear off the ground. “Let me go!” he cried as he tried to pry the mammoth hand off of himself, but it was like a steel clamp. So he tried beating the muscel giant’s massive forearm, but it was like stone. He was hurting his fists on it.
“Jeeze, would you calm down, Anthony; it’s just me,” said the mountain.
Anthony looked up into its face, and holy crap, he’d been right. It really did look just like Boz. “It… it can’t be—”
“Yup,” said the mountain, “it’s me,” Well, a much bigger, much more incredibly awesome me.”
“Jeeze, Boz, be careful! You’re touching his hands!” said the other mountain. (He thought of me as a mountain! I fucking love that!)
“Oh shit!” said Boz, and dropped Anthony on the ground.
“Damn it, we needed him normal!” said the other mountain.
“It wasn’t my fault. He touched me.”
“Well, he wasn’t touching you long. Maybe he won’t change too fast.”
Then Anthony looked up into my face. “I know you!” he said.
“Yeah, you do,” I said.
“Jeeze, what happened to you guys?” asked Anthony.
Then I told Anthony the whole story, and if the two or us hadn’t been towering over him right there, he told me, he’d never have believed it. Jesus, look at the fucking size of them, he thought. He just couldn’t get over us.
“So now you want to rescue little Bradley, er… big Bradley?” asked Anthony.
“Yeah, but we need to change a lot more guys before we’ll have a chance,” I said.
“Well, hell, start with me,” said Anthony. “I’ll fucking volunteer right now!”
“Glad you feel that way, Dude,” grinned Boz, “’Cause you’ve already sorta been drafted.”
“Yeah,” I said, “When Boz touched you, he got the nanobots on you kinda like what Brad did to me. It’s only a matter of time, Bro, and you’ll be just like this,” I said, flexing my impossibly huge bulging bicep, and watching the vein wrapped peek explode out. Man, I just loved doing that, and Anthony told me he nearly fainted at the sight…. Well part of it was the news that he was going to get fucking huge, but some of it was my fucking incredible, massive arm—had to be; it just stands to reason.
But the news that Anthony now had nanobots running around in his system did hit him like a freight train. He was going to get fucking mammoth, grow taller than any fucking pro basketball player with shoulders bigger than basketballs, a back too broad to fit through doors, and arm muscles that were huge beyond belief. Fuck. He’d always wanted to be big, but God had given him a shortish frame, only 5’ 7”, that loved to put on fat, but hated to put on muscle. But damn, all that was about to change and in a really, really big way.
“When?” asked Anthony, “when do I get to be like you?” He checked his body all over looking for any sign of change, but he didn’t see any.
“If you don’t get any more nanobots it’ll probably take a long time, maybe a day or more.”
“Oh man, that sucks,” said Anthony.
“No, that’s good,” I said. “But we can’t wait a day either, and we have to move fast before you get too big.” Then I told him my plan.
He wanted to go sit down for a minute to let it sink in, but he we had to hurry-before he grew too much. Anybody who saw us—or anyone like us—would take off running before waiting to hear what we had to say. And given a chance to get that fucking massive… Well, Anthony couldn’t see anyone turning that down.
They were going to need someplace big, huge enough to hold a small army of muscle giants but out of the public eye. The high school gym was the obvious choice. And getting inside was no problem. Boz just ripped the door off its hinges and tore the alarm out of the wall and that was it; they were in. Anthony called everyone he could think of, but all he could really tell them was that little Bradley was in serious trouble and they needed help to get him out of it. Most of the guys said they’d come. There were only a couple who said no. But a lot of guys weren’t picking up their phones. It was after ll: 00. They were probably asleep. All in all, Anthony got 11 guys to come.
Through the whole process, Anthony was finding it hard to concentrate. He’d begun to change and he could feel it. His body was getting harder and harder. Layers of fat were slowly melting away and being replaced by something solid and substantial. There wasn’t time for him to undress and have a proper look, so he just kept passing his hands over his thickening pecs and his growing arms. Fuck, their increasing size and hardness was getting him pretty damn stiff. But there was no time to take care of that either.
But Boz and I had time. In fact it was an essential part of the plan. We went into the janitor’s closed, got two buckets, and dropped those bed-sheet-loincloths we were wearing. Anthony’s eyes practically blew out his eye sockets when saw our cocks. Later he said he thought they were two of the biggest cocks it was possible to imagine. Then we started stroking off. And I’m telling you, with just looking at and feeling our enormous bodies, getting off was no problem at all. We shot immense loads into the buckets.
This was the stuff Anthony was supposed to use to change everybody with. It was just loaded with the little nanobots. Anthony decided he wouldn’t mention what it really was unless it became absolutely necessary.
Then Boz and I went and hid ourselves behind the bleachers. We didn’t want to show ourselves until the time was right. Then all that was left was for Anthony to wait for everyone to arrive.
One by one, they started to come, asking questions. What was this all about? What happened to door? What was going on? Anthony refused to answer any questions until everyone was there.
And finally when all 11 of them were standing in front of him, Anthony rolled in the buckets and started to speak. Anthony explained how Bradley had been taken by a biotech company for human experimentation, and they had to go break him out.
After he was done Jared Tyler asked, “How exactly are we supposed to do that?”
“By ourselves, we probably couldn’t,” said Anthony, “but with a little help from the biotech firm—” he paused and looked at the group. He had their undivided attention. Man, he couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces.
“It’d be easier if I just showed you.” He unbuttoned his shirt exposing his bare torso. Holy crap, he already looked ripped. He couldn’t believe how solid and strong his torso felt. He could see the muscle striations in his protruding pecs and the rows of solid looking abs rolling across his stomach. He thought about the models in his magazine and laughed. Fuck, he looked just as good as any of them. He clenched his abs and made them pop out at the crowd. Fuck, look at those things. Damn, they felt awesome, like bricks leaping out of his stomach. But he knew there was more to come—much more.
He heard a couple of gasps from the crowd and a couple of whoas. Then Wes Jenkins said, “Jeeze, dude, you’ve been working out.”
Anthony laughed. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said.
Anthony dipped his hand into the bucket and lifted out a hand full of the jizz. It felt warm and tingly in his hand. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the stuff, so he just took the handful and smeared it on his chest. He closed his eyes and waited for something to happen. It felt a little weird at first, all that warm tingly stuff spread out all over his skin, and then—HOLY FUCK!!!! Nothing could have prepared him for the incredible sensation that was invading his body, he felt fucking fully charged, like lightening bolts were running through his veins. He breathing got short. Suddenly, he couldn’t get enough oxygen, and he began to sweat. His head swam slightly, making him dizzy.
“Jeeze, Anthony, are you alright?” asked Tom Gibbons from the crowd.
“I think… it’s starting,” said Anthony. And then he felt a hard pressure building under his skin, like when you flex, except he wasn’t flexing. All over him he felt his muscles grow hard. And he couldn’t be sure, but… Yeah, yeah, they were getting bigger, slowly swelling up pushing out. Fuck, it was amazing. He flexed and watched his bicep bulge up hard and large. Damn, it was so much bigger already and it had all these veins snaking around it. And it felt like a rock heaving up out of his arm, a throbbing, pulsing rock, growing bigger and bigger until, holy fuck it was filling his sleeve.
“Jesus, are you getting bigger?” asked Tom. “Holy fuck, I think he’s getting bigger!”
“Yeah,” he cried, “bigger, way fucking bigger.” He flexed his bulging arm. Man, he loved the sight and the feel of it. Oh fuck, his back felt weird. Kind of like it was cramping. He stretched it out. Oh fuck, it felt thicker; and much fucking wider. And then, like an advancing glacier, he felt it pushing against his shirt, harder and harder, pulling it tighter and tighter until threads snapped and cloth tore. The sensation of his solid, powerful muscle back swelling up and ripping and tearing its way out through his flimsy shirt was just too fucking intense. “Ahhhhh fuck!” he yelled.
“What happened?” shouted someone from the crowd. “What the fuck just happened?”
And Anthony turned around and showed them.
The crowd went completely silent and then he heard Tom Gibbons say, “Holy shit, dude, your back is a fucking muscle wall.”
Anthony grinned. Yeah, it was. He could feel it was, a fucking wall of hard, ripped bulging muscle. And it was expanding, pushing out, getting wider, thicker and stronger. “Oh man,” he cried. “So fucking huge.”
He felt his chest bulging bigger and broader and he turned to face the group just as those two heaving mounds of cement split his shirt open. Fuck, he had pecs, big fucking muscle pecs. And they kept swelling along with his rock hard shoulders and expanding muscle-wall back. His shirt began ripping and tearing into scant shreds of cloth that pulled apart to reveal his fucking huge, shredded upper body. And he felt like stone, like fucking expanding stone. Christ, this was awesome! This was so fucking awesome!
“My God, Anthony, what’s happening to you?” asked Jacob Wacowski.
“Oh fuck, man,” Anthony gasped, “work it out.”
And then he caught sight of his feet, shuffling back and forth as they adjusted for the weight. Holy crap, look at those feet. They were huge and they seemed to be growing even more, becoming more solid with heavier bones, throbbing veins, and widening toes.! Jesus, they were big as fucking flippers. And when he grew into them… Christ, he was going to be so fucking huge!
And then he got dizzy. Everything began to seem smaller. No, it was just him. He was so much fucking bigger now, and not just wider… YES! He was getting taller. His 5’ 7” frame was stretching upward and upward, his head getting farther and farther from the ground. He could feel it now, his arms and legs getting longer, his rib cage expanding, his shoulders broadening. Damn. It was so fucking intense.
He heard a chorus of Fucks and Holy shits coming from the crowd. Oh man, all those guys, they looked so fucking tiny. Look at ‘em all down there, so short and puny next to his huge, rippling torso and his thick muscular limbs. But it wasn’t enough.
“Bigger,” he gasped, surprised at how deep his voice had gotten. It was all he could get out, but that was ok; it was exactly how he felt. He wanted to get bigger, a lot fucking bigger.
And then he felt a hard pressure building in his legs. He could feel his thighs starting to expand, pushing out against his jeans. Oh fuck. The pressure was building and building, getting stronger and stronger and his pants felt tighter and tighter. “Oh yes!” he cried, as great tears ripped open in his jeans releasing a pair of mammoth, shredded muscle thighs. Holy crap, they were huge and defined. He could see every head, every fiber as the tearing and ripping continued and they reduced his pants to shreds. And the width of them… they were starting to compete with his waist. Oh my God! I am so fucking huge!
And then his calves… Holy crap, they were rapidly blowing up to the size of soccer balls, flaring out larger and flexing behind his giant thickening shin bones. And his knees almost appeared to be shrinking, as they were completely overwhelmed by his massive expanding thighs. Oh my God, his upper legs were evolving into huge undulating, tightly woven masses of powerful sinew, shifting under his skin, each one trying to bulge bigger than it’s humongous, shredded neighbor. And as massively wide as they got, they also seemed to be stretching longer, making him even taller.
“Oh my fucking God, look at me!” he shouted. “Is this fucking awesome or what?”
But the crowd had gone silent. He was staring down at 12 small, pale faces with gaping mouths and wide open eyes. But Anthony couldn’t blame them. He was all muscle now, the most amazing thing he’d ever set eyes on. Was it really so surprising that they though so too?
And his body kept growing. His balls were the size of two large oranges hanging below his monster cock which was about 15 inches long, as thick as a beer can, and it was stiff as an iron rod. Right above it his abs were thrusting out of his stomach, growing, widening into eight deeply carved, solid blocks of muscle that violently heaved in and out with every monster breath he took. Crap, just the feel of that tight, hard stomach, moving in and out was incredible.
His forearms were evolving into enormous bulging and swelling masses of ripped cords and tendons just popping with power. His biceps were massive globes of vein covered sinew with peaks alone that were mountains.
His pecs erupted to the size of china balls, huge and ribbed with thick muscle fibers and his gargantuan lats spread out behind him, like a kind of thick muscle cape.
And still he felt himself growing wider, thicker, taller. When it finally stopped his body was massive. He knew he was every bit as big as the two muscle giants, maybe bigger. He took a moment and explored his new dimensions. His limbs were bulging with gigantic muscles. He ran his hands over his body and explored the new peeks and valleys, the hardness of it all. It felt strange and new and incredibly powerful. He got hard again but he couldn’t indulge himself. It was time to act. He twisted around, bending as much as his gigantic limbs would let him.
“So, who’s next?” he asked.
“This has got to be a trick,” said Wes. “No way is this even possible.”
“You think this is a trick?” said Anthony moving forward and feeling the ground shake beneath him. Awesome!
“It has to be,” said Wes, retreating a little from the approaching behemoth.
“Well, let me ask you this,” said Anthony, “if it weren’t a trick, would you do it? Would you get massive like this?” And Anthony flexed his arm causing a huge muscle mountain to explode out of it.
“S—Sure,” said Wes, sounding a good deal less certain than he had a second before. “Who wouldn’t?”
“Good,” said Anthony, and he reached down and grabbed Wes with one massive hand and picked him up,
“Wha—what are you doing?” he asked.
“Still think it’s a trick?”
“Don’t worry, dude, I’m just giving you a helping hand; that’s all,” said Anthony and he upended Wes and dipped him head first into one of the buckets. “And I want to satisfy anyone else who might think this is all a trick.”
Anthony pulled Wes out of the bucket and set him on the floor. The guy just sat there for a minute coughing and sputtering and whipping the jizz from his face.
“Hey,” he said, taking a couple of sniffs, “what exactly is that stuff?”
“Don’t worry about it, dude. In a few seconds you won’t give a shit what it is.”
“Yeah, right. But—” suddenly his eyes went wide. “Oh shit!” he yelled looking down at his forearms as the muscles on them began to pulse and writhe. “What the fuck is happening?” he yelled.
“Jesus, dude, just chill, alright? Relax and enjoy the ride,” said Anthony
“Awww awww fuck!” yelled Wes as his shoulders started to stretch out broader. There was a tearing as his sleeves split and separated from his shirt at the shoulders. In a second his expanding delts peeled away his severed sleeves, exposing a pair of striated segmented shoulders as big as softballs, and a set of biceps that were even bigger.
Wes stood up and suddenly he was stretching up and up. “Holy fuck!” he cried. Already he was about 5 inches taller and his pant cuffs hovered just below his swelling calves. His shirt had ridden up so much you could see his midriff and a line of carved abdominals stretching across his waist. He rand his hands over them, his fingers explrogin each crevase. “Damn, it’s real,” he said. He flexed his huge arms, looked from the right huge bulging bicep to the left huge bulging bicep and shouted, “FUCK YEAH, IT’S REAL!!!!!!!”
“Well, what are the rest of you waiting for,” asked Anthony, “an engraved invitation?”
And suddenly they were rushing up to the buckets and crowding around them. Some of them ripped off their shirts and plastered themselves in the jizz; some actually gulped it down. Anthony had the feeling he could have told these guys exactly what it was they were saturating themselves with and they wouldn’t have paused for a second.
There was, however, one exception.
“Is this stuff FDA approved?” asked Lewis, who hadn’t gone near the buckets. God, why had Boz insisted on inviting him? Lewis was probably the most bullied kid in school. But there was a reason for that. He was overweight, wore glasses, and was as annoying as fuck. That wining, complaining voice was almost as grating as fingernails on a chalk board. At first Anthony had argued against inviting him, but in the end they had all decided it would be fun to see what a massive Lewis would be like. Right now Anthony was guessing he’d be massively annoying.
“No, Lewis, this is definitely not FDA approved,” said Anthony.
“Maybe we’d better think this over,” said Lewis. “I mean you never know what the long term effects could be. You could get cancer from this.”
“Fuck, Lewis, you could get cancer from almost anything,” said Jared who was torn between watching his hands expand to the size of trash can lids and watching his stomach explode into layers of thick brick-like abdominals. “And this is fucking awesome,” he said, flexing and admiring his new, mammoth swelling bis as he slowly stretched taller and taller.
The entire gym was filled with grunting, ripping and moaning as the other eleven guys began bulking up, their rock-hard, bulging muscles wrenching and tearing their way out of tattered shirts and shredding pants.
“Fuck me, I’m huge!” cried one guy as his forearm grew to about the size of a bull’s hind leg.
“My pecs are fucking boulders!” cried another as his shirt front blew into shreds as giant muscle globes burst out.
They flexed and grew, and flexed and grew as humungous muscles just erupted out all over them. Until finally, including Anthony, there were 11 muscle gods flexing and probing their new muscle inundated bodies all over.
This, or course, is when Boz and I came out from behind the bleachers.
No one seemed particularly surprised to see us, and I have to say I almost felt normal since all the other guys in the room were now eight foot tall muscle beasts, too—that is except Lewis. He looked like a shrub amongst redwoods.
“What the fuck, Lewis?” said Boz. “Why are you still small?”
Hmmm, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Lewis looked a little intimidated. I don’t know, maybe it was because he was standing there watching Boz’s massive muscle wall of a stomach heave in and out. Oh, did I mention each one of Boz’s bulging abs was bigger than Lewis’s entire head?
“I… I just don’t think you guys have thought this thing through,” said Lewis swallowing hard. “I mean what are you going to do for clothes? Do you know how much you’re going to have to eat every day? And right now you barely fit though the gym doors, how are you going to get into your houses? Where are you going to sleep? I mean seriously, what were you guys thinking getting that big?”
“What were we thinking?” echoed Boz. Then he turned and called over to the others. “Guys, come here for a second.” And they came. Oh man, look ‘em all! Seriously, what is the name for a group of muscle gods? There probably wasn’t one, ‘casue there’d never been a group like this.
“Let’s make a circle around little Lewis, here,” said Boz. If you thought Lewis was intimidated before, you should have seen him as 13 muscle giants slowly gathered around him. Most of them were still flexing and feeling their new bodies. And if you don’t think that was impressive… Hell, I was one of them and I still found it impressive. In a minute we were all rubbing mammoth shoulder to mammoth shoulder and our heads were at least still 7 feet apart. Lewis was practically shaking as Boz dropped his bed sheet loin cloth, revealing his massive muscle cock. But, seriously, it was like a tree in a forest. We all had ‘em. And once I dropped my loin cloth, we were all naked, 13 naked 8 foot tall naked muscle behemoths gathered in a circle around one tiny cringing nerd. I was impressed Lewis hadn’t pissed himself yet.
“I don’t know about you guys,” said Boz, “but all this muscle is making me horny as hell. Whaddya say to a little circle jerk? Boz put his hand down and slowly started stroking his cock. The other guys started doing the same, except most of them were already on the brink any way—one of the side effects of going through that kind of a change.
“Wait a minute,” squawked Lewis. “What are you guys doing?”
“Every once in a while, Lewis,” said Boz, “You gotta think with the other head.” And Boz ran his fingers over the tip of his cock, and moaned.
Suddenly, one of the new guys went off like a cannon. I’d swear you could almost hear the bang. The guy let out a roar like some kind of wild beast. Oh yeah, I’d forgotten how intense orgasms were after the change. But that little reminder was all it took for me to double my efforts.
Of course, Lewis got hit square in the back of the head on the first volley and got knocked on his face. Then one by one, guys started yelling as they got off. Thick streams of cum were flying everywhere. I’d like to say Lewis got doused, but that’s not what happened. Due to the natural angle of things and since everyone was caught up in an orgasmic passion, no one was too good at aiming. Lewis was on the floor at this point, so most of the shots went high. But what goes up must come down and Lewis still got plenty on him.
Lewis sat up and tried to wipe the stuff off him. “That’s disgusting,” he said. But suddenly he stopped. He raised his hands in front of him and began opening and closing them. We could all see it. The veins were rising up on them and they were beginning to swell.
“What did you guys do?” he cried.
“We couldn’t go with just 13 guys,” I said. “That would be unlucky.”
“You mean you—? You mean I’m gonna—?” stuttered Lewis.
“Yup. Sorry,” said Boz.
And then Lewis’s plump little body started to change. You could see his shape shifting under his shirt. His belly was shrinking, dwindling away to nothing while his shoulders stretched out broader. And his chest… his man tits were kind of lifting up rounding out in to solid looking orbs. His back was getting wider and broader. His face as loosing that oval quality as his fat burned away revealing high cheek bones and an angular jaw. Damn, Lewis was starting to look pretty good.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” said Lewis, patting his body all over. “I’m changing. I’m changing! This feels so weird.”
“Looking good, Lewis,” said Wes, “But it gets better, much, much better.”
Lewis’s eyes were squeezed shut, his face turned beat red and his fists were clenched at his sides.
“Ahhhhhh,” Lewis started moaning. “This feels… incredible.” And his voice had dropped at least an octave. “AH!” he was gasping, “AH! AH! AHHHHHHH!” And then he unclenched his fists and held them out in front of him. I began to hear this gurgling noise, as I noticed his hands swelling, growing larger and thicker. His forearms were bulging up with muscle, getting bigger around. I could see biceps and triceps slowly taking shape on his formally flabby upper arms.
“I feel so different,” he said, “so hard all over.”
And I didn’t doubt it. Under his shirt, I could see swelling deltoids blossoming out of his skeletal shoulders. His chest ballooned out, pulling the flimsy okford tight around it. His body completely lost its pudgy appearance as his back expanded and his thighs grew meaty. “I think I like this!” he shouted as large, powerful looking traps began erupting from his back. His shoulders expanded to the size of grapefruits, his chest swelled into a couple of cantaloupes and veins started growing like vines over his swelling, bulging softball-like biceps. He let out a grunt as a sudden surge hit him and he got taller. I began to hear the unmistakable snap snap snap of threads breaking, as his back widened, and his new muscles pulsed and strained his clothes to their limit.
I heard the popping again followed by the sound of cloth ripping as his rock hard striated muscles began tearing out of his feeble garment. His shoulders went first. Magnificent globes of granite-like flesh blew apart the thin fabric, completely decimating the short sleeves, and reveling a pair of mighty biceps which were bulging obscenely even as his arms hung at his side. Rents began opening up all across the front of the stressed shirt, tearing wider and longer, slowly revealing the powerful sinew bulging beneath it. There was a sudden surge and a heaving, massive chest burst forth from the tattered shirt. Below it the fabric was torn apart, revealing an incredibly ripped eight pack. In an instant the remains of his shirt, now reduced to a shredded rag, fell to the ground, while he rose up and up and up, gaining height while his bulging muscles continued to swell with mass.
The last shreds of his shirt slipped from his globe-like shoulders and fell to the floor in a heap, just as his pants began to tear, split apart by his colossal thighs and his expanding muscular waist. “THIS IS AWESOME!” he shouted, his voice suddenly deepening. “Time to get fucking HUGE!” And then almost as if he could control it, his body began expanding, growing taller and broader and his muscles, out pacing the rest of him, quickly blew up to enormous proportions. And Lewis was laughing as it happened. It was a curiously boyish giggle rendered in deep bass tone, and it spilled out of him as the once pudgy kid watched inhumanly massive muscles exploded out all over him. In seconds he grew an immense, heaving body like the rest of us.
“Now let’s go get your brother!” he roared.
And I had to agree. We were ready.
“Dude, you’re huge,” said Wes looking at Jacob.
“No, dude, you’re huge,” said Jacob looking at Wes.
Fuck, we were all huge, all 14 of us. No one had an arm that didn’t look like a pile of vein ridden boulders. No one didn’t have a pec shelf that was so fucking broad an entire family could shelter beneath it. No one didn’t have a back so incredibly thick and wide it would completely block most of the school cooridors. We were all a bunch of thick, undulating, muscle towers. And we loved it.
“Jeeze,” said Lewis, flexing his monster bicep, watching it bulge up to an unbelievable size and girth. He stared at it, “I wish I had a mirror so I could check all of me out.”
Then Wes suddenly shouted out, “The fucking locker room!”
Of course there were a couple of huge mirrors down there, but we didn’t have time for this. We had to go get Brad. I was going to say as much but I didn’t have the chance. There was a fucking stampede for the locker rooms. Man, the whole freaking building shook. I thought for a minute the entire thing was going to fall down around us.
The first guy actually tried to squeeze through the door, but the second guy piled right into him knocking him right through and taking most of the doorframe with him. Then it was a free-for-all as the rest of the guys charged through. I’m surprised the wall survived. Boz and I weren’t quite as mirror hungry as the rest of the guys, but then we’d had a few hours to get used to being muscle gods… Ok, forget I said that. You never get fucking used to this. It’s too fucking awesome.
By the time Boz and I got to the locker room, guys were trying to squeeze in front of the few mirrors that there were. It wouldn’t fit too many at once. Wes was just flexing and feeling his right bi, when Aaron grabbed him by the shoulder and litteraly through him across the room. “My turn,” he said. Fuck, Wes hit the cinderblock wall with a huge smack. There was an explosion of plaster and the wall almost fucking buckled. I kid you not; there was a huge depression in the wall about two feet deep. Wes stood up, shook himself free of debris and stared in disbelief at the cracked and tumbled cinderblocks.
“Holy shit!” he yelled. “Did you see what I did to that wall? And it didn’t hurt at all.”
“What do you mean you did it?” asked Aaron. “I’m the one who threw you into it.”
But Wes ignored him. Instead he reached over, grabbed a cinderblock, gave it a tug and ripped it right out of the damaged wall
“Whoa,” said Wes staring at the cement block in his fist. Then he proceeded to crush it to sand with his bare hands, his mammoth forearms writhing with thick undulating muscle. “Holy fuck!” he yelled, “Look what I can do! It feels awesome and it’s so easy, like a sand castle at the beach.”
And suddenly it was open season on the walls. Guys were ripping out cinderblocks and snapping them in half or crushing them or throwing them through other parts of the wall.
“Stop!” I yelled. “You guys are going to take the school apart!”
“So?” said Lewis. “It’s just they gym and I don’t think we really need it anymore.”
The other guys laughed.
“I didn’t ask you here so we could rip down the school,” I said. “We need to go after my brother before they do anything to him.”
“Is he like us?” asked Rick.
“Yup,” I said.
“Then what could they do to him?”
“I don’t know and I sure as hell don’t want to find out. We have to go get him.”
“Then can we rip down the school?” asked Lewis.
“Then you can do whatever you want,” I said.
“Good,” said Lewis. “I don’t like this school. People weren’t very nice to me here. I’d like to rip it down. I think I’d enjoy that.” Suddenly Lewis’s fist shot out and slammed into a cinderblock. He ripped it from the wall and placed it on his arm between his bicep and forearm. Then he slowly flexed his massive arm and watched as a titanium mountain grew out of it and crushed the cement block to dust against his mammoth bulging forearm. “Yeah, I think I’d like that a lot.”
“Well save it for later,” I said. “We gotta go.”
“We can’t go naked,” said Wes. “—or can we?” I think he was starting to like the idea. I nodded at Boz and he thundered from the room. We had raided Ritchie’s and Anthony’s houses for every bed sheet we could find and brought them with us. Boz had gone to get them.
I don’t think anybody really liked the makeshift loin cloths, but they were the best we could do. A couple of the guys decided not to wear them and go naked instead. They said they were having too much fun watching and feeling their massive cocks swinging around. Having experienced it a little myself, I found it was a point that was hard to argue.
And then we left. A couple of guys tried to use the door, but their shoulders were much too broad and their pecs and backs were just way too massive. They got jammed inside and eventually wound up destroying the door anyway. Most of the guys didn’t even bother with the door at all. They just smashed their way straight out through the nearest wall. I couldn’t believe the amount of damage they were causing. It was a wonder the school didn’t collapse right then and there.
And then when we got outside… A heard of elephants was probably quieter. By this time, it was the middle of the night, around 12:30 am,. I was pretty sure no one in the immediate vicinity was sleeping anymore.
“Look, there’s my car!” yelled Wes pointing toward this hunk-of-junk Toyota. The thing was at least 25 years old and looked like it had needed a paint job 10 years ago. “I hate my piece of shit car,” he said. “It smells like someone pissed in it, it’s always breaking down, and it looks like a Transformer crapped it out on a bad day.” He strode over to it and looked down at it, completely dwarfing the small car with his massive bulk.. “I’ll never fit in that again, and you know what? I don’t care. God, it’s so small it looks like a toy, a really crappy toy.” Then he lifted up his massive arm and with his insanely huge muscles bulging, brought his fist down on the roof of his car. There was an explosion of glass mixed with the sounds of tearing metal and fiberglass as the Toyota pancaked instantly.
“Fuck yeah!” yelled Wes, going into a most muscular. “I’m a fucking beast!” Then he reached over and grabbed the car with both hands and started laughing as he hoisted it up over his head. “Hey, Aaron, go long!”
Then Aaron ran, thundering down the street, cracking the asphalt and setting off car alarms. When he’d gotten about 50 yards away, Wes threw his car toward him. Aaron reached out his arms, but the car shot right over his head, and plowed into the building behind him. It cashed right through the wall leaving a gaping hole in the empty building.
“YEAH! FUCK YEAH!” yelled Wes, flexing and then punching the air punching the air. “I’m fucking unstoppable!” Good thing it was the middle of the night. If anyone had been inside there they might have gotten hurt.
“Hey, guys come on, don’t do this,” I said. “We’ve got a serious job to do.”
“We were just having some fun,” said Wes.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t want the cops after us,” I said. “At least not until after we got my brother.”
“Fuck the cops,” said Aaron. “What can they do to us?”
“I pretty sure we’re not bullet proof,” I said, and that shut him up.
Boz lead the way and we started walking toward the place where his brother worked and where my brother was being held. I have to say for 14 muscle giants, we were pretty quite. Sure we set off a lot of car alarms and every once in a while someone would “accidentally” kick an SUV through a building, but all in all the destruction was pretty minimal.
We even ran across this one guy by the side of the road with a flat. He was the first normal human being we’d seen since we left the school. He sort of froze when he saw us coming and started shaking. Couldn’t really blame him. We were pretty fucking awesome.
Jacob walked over and looked down at the guy who had apparently been struggling with some piece of shit jack. Jeeze the guy looked tiny. I mean he was a regular sized guy but he looked like a wispy midget next to Jacob’s massive frame.
“Need a hand with that, Bro?” said Jacob, not-so-subtly flexing his enormous thighs, making each enormous head ripple furiously under his skin. Damn, just one of Jacob’s thighs was bigger than the guy’s entire body… and I think the guy noticed. His mouth dropped open but I don’t think he could get any words out.
“Wait, Jacob,” I said. “Whatever you do, don’t touch him.”
“Don’t touch him? Why not?” asked Jacob.
“Cause if you touch him, he’ll get like us.”
“Seriously?” said Jacob. “You mean all I have to do it touch a guy and he’ll get huge?”
“Pretty much, but you’ll only be able to do it for about 24 hours, then it won’t work anymore.”
“Awesome!” said Jacob. And the rest of the guys thought it was awesome too. They were already making plans to change some of their friends and family members. Man, there were going to be an awful lot of us before the next 24 hours were up.
Jacob looked down at the guy again. “You got the lug nuts loose?” he asked.
The guys just nodded.
“Good,” said Jacob and he made a huge show of stretching his arms. He made every muscle in them writhe and bulge up for the guy, and I’m pretty sure Jacob was enjoying the show, too. Then with just his right index and middle fingers, he lifted up the front of the car so the tire was three feet in the air. The guy could have changed it standing up if he’d wanted, but he was just kneeling there, chin practically dragging on the ground and staring up at Jacob.
“Come on, dude, get a move on,” said Jacob. “It’s not heavy or anything, but I’ve got places to be.”
The guy suddenly seemed to remember the tire. He quickly removed the nuts and replaced the tire with the spare.
Then Jacob let the car down. “I’d get another jack if I were you. That thing’s useless,” he said.
The guy’s jaw dropped open a little farther as he nodded and then we got on our way again.
“Was that guy freaking or what?” asked Jacob.
“Oh yeah,” I said.
“That’s what I thought,” said Jacob, grinning. “I think I’m going to be freaking a lot of people from now on.”
“No question,” I said, thinking that with an arm as big around as the corner mailbox, I’d be doing my own share of freaking people out. I couldn’t wait.
It wasn’t much later that we arrived at our destination. I don’t know what I had been expecting, maybe chain link fences, barbed wire, guard dogs, but there wasn’t anything like that. I just looked like an ordinary office building. Of course ordinary with one notable exception: most office buildings were dark this time of night. This one had the lights on.
“Let’s go see who’s home,” I said. But we hadn’t taken 5 steps before the front doors flew open and out came about 30 guys with rifles.
“Get ‘em before they can shoot you!” I shouted.
“Yeah, that’s pretty fucking obvious,” said Wes, and we charged.
A couple of guards just dropped their guns and ran. Who could blame them? The sight of 14 8-foot tall, 1 ton muscle giants running at you has got to be pretty fucking terrifying.
On the other hand, from our side the view was fucking awesome! The guards looked like a scrimmage line of underfed grade school kids. We weren’t going to have any trouble plowing right through them. I almost felt like I was cheating. Just one of my massive striated pecs probably weighed more then any single guard in front of me. But then, they had the guns.
They managed to get off a volley before we got to them and Jared went down. Riddled with darts he looked like a pin cushion. But he was the only one of us they got. They fist guy I hit flew 30 yards at least. He wasn’t getting up. The second guy I just grabbed by the throat with one hand and lifted him right off the ground. Fuck, he didn’t weigh anything. Then I ripped the rifle away from him with my other hand and just bashed it on the ground, shattering it into pieces with just one blow. Fuck, I couldn’t believe how easily that thing broke apart. The guard was still struggling in my grasp but he was completely helpless. I have to say it was a trip. This guy was struggling as hard as he could and his greatest effort was barely registering with me. I could hardly feel it. Fuck, I was powerful.
The rest of the guys had taken out the other guards just about as easily. I’d say the fight lasted maybe 30 seconds. I dropped my guard and he scrambled away.
“Come on, guys,” I said, “let’s go get Brad!”
Then the front doors opened again. I had no idea what to expect this time, some kind of super secret ray gun? A tank? I had no idea. But what actually came out was Hank, Boz’s asshole brother and he had another guy with him. Hank had a bull horn in one hand and a hand gun in another. He raised the hand gun in the air and fired. We all stopped. That thing wasn’t loaded with any darts. He had bullets.
“Stop right there!” Hank called. Kinda unnecessary ‘cause we’d already stopped. “Don’t come another step,” he said.
“Yeah?” I called back. “Who’s going to stop us? I want my brother and you and that little pop gun of yours aren’t going to stop me.”
“I don’t need my little pop gun,” said Hank. “I’ve got something better.” And he held up a pill between his thumb and his forefinger.
“What’s that, a hulk pill?” I said laughing. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are 14 of us.”
“This isn’t just a hulk pill,” called Hank. “This is the SP51. You might call it a super hulk pill.”
Suddenly the guy next to him looked really, really worried. He grabbed Hank by the shoulder and said, “Hank, your not thinking of taking that, are you? It hasn’t been tested yet, not even in the lab!”
“Don’t worry about it, Roger,” said Hank. “These boys have shown just how well our nanotechnology works. And I’m sick and tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do.” Hank lifted up his hands and stared at them with a hungry gleam. “But soon I’ll be as big as a house, and all fucking muscle—all over my fucking body—so much muscle I can rip down a fucking mountain! Nobody’s going to tell me what to do then!” And Hank downed the pill.
“No,Hank don’t!” screamed Roger, but it was too late. I started to hear that rumbling and churning sound again coming from deep inside him, except it was getting louder and louder and soon it was a roar. “Oh yes,” he shouted, raising his arms and flexing them. “It’s starting. I can feel it starting!”
Roger backed away as Hank’s body began to vibrate. It was getting faster and faster. Beneath Hank’s rumpled shirt, I could see his pudgy body starting to solidify. His slight gut was shrinking and his saggy chest was beginning to firm up, lift, and push out. His sloping shoulders were bulging up into globes and I could see his back swelling wider behind him—
And then it stopped.
“That’s it?” said Aaron. “That’s the big scary super hulk pill?” he broke out laughing, and I could see why. Hank looked athletic and fit, but next to us he was nothing.
“You don’t understand,” said Roger. “It was designed to work in phases. This is just the first phase.”
“Yeah, right,” said Aaron.
“Don’t waste your breath, Roger,” said Hank, flexing and admiring the curve of his new bicep. “They’ll find out soon enou—” Suddenly his mouth dropped open and all the air seemed to rush out of him. Then he started breathing hard. Hs chest was heaving in and out, and holy crap! With each breath his shirt got tighter as his chest got bigger, pulling at the front, stressing the buttons. “Ahhh ahhhh arghhhhhhh!” he yelled and suddenly his shirt front ripped apart as two massive pecs burst into the open, swelling out over a huge set of cobblestone abs.
He ran his hand over his large marbled torso, grinned darkly and called, “You kids better run now, cause I’m just getting started.”
“You don’t scare me, pipsqueak,” said Aaron.
“Pipsqeak, am I” said Hank and then his muscles started getting larger, pushing out, and bulking up. God, I could see him stretching broader and broader. He flexed his arms and huge biceps blew up tight in his sleeve. I heard the cloth rip, saw tears open up as big, vein-ridden, sinewy mounds broke free.
“We’ll see who’s the pipsqueak,” he said running his hand over his huge bulging arm.
He was body builder big now, with huge muscles bulging out through his shredded shirt. But he was still a shrimp compared to us.
“Ha ha ha,” laughed Aaron. “You’re still a munchkin.” The Aaron strode over, grabbed Hank under the arms and lifted him up.
“Dude,” I said, “be careful. You don’t know how far this thing’s going to go.”
“You should listen to your friend,” said Hank. “ Ahh! ahHHHHHHHH!” he cried as behind him I could see his back erupting with muscle, huge slabs of it ripping free of the tattered cotton covering. He rolled and flexed his bowling ball shoulders which finished off his shirt with one last rip. “Aaron, put him down!” I said.
And Aaron did. “Ok, ok,” he said, “Don’t get your diaper in a twist.”
“It won’t save you,” said Hank, breathing hard. Fuck, he was still bulking up, getting thicker “YES!” he yelled as his waste band burst apart, ripped asunder by heaving, swelling brick-like abdominals. And oh my God, he was getting taller. His pant cuffs were rising up along his legs until they were suddenly torn to pieces as massive calves the size of basketballs. His pants legs exploded into shreds, releasing mammoth quads which continued to expand until they reached an unbelievable size.
“So what if he does get to be a super hulk?” said Aaron. “I touched him which means I get to be a super hulk too, right? And I can touch all of you guys so we’ll all get to be super hulks.”
“Doesn’t work that way,” said Hank gasping. “The super hulk effect doesn’t spread—Ahhhh! AHHHHHHHH!” he yelled! Crap, he was just shooting up as his muscles just kept blowing up with the rest of him. His pecs were growing into two gigantic globes of flesh, sticking out about two feet in front of him and overshadowing eight muscle-boulder abs, which were rippling out of his stomach. His back spread out behind him wider and wider and wider and impossibly thick. And his legs were becoming two monstrous pillars, as thick around as an oil drum, with all the massive muscle groups visibly writhing and twisting with the slightest move. And every vein, every striation of every muscle group was clearly defined beneath his skin. Crap, it was happening a lot faster this time.
“I’m a fucking monster!” he shouted and flexed. And he was right. His upper arms were gigantic, defined, vein ridden masses. The shoulders above them were ponderously huge segmented globes. His forearms were huge blocks of solid ripped muscle leading up to heavy fists. He was definitely as big as any of us.
“We can still take him,” said Aaron.
“You think so?” said Hank. “Then watch this.” And then he started growing again. He started to get taller and as he did it was like muscles began exploding up all over him, huge bulbous masses of power, erupting everywhere. There wasn’t a muscle on his body that didn’t became overwhelmingly massive, growing thicker, heavier, bigger, stretching out under his skin while his frame grew wider and taller. His body just seemed to be blowing up impossibly huge in every dimension. And he had this huge grin on his face as he watched himself explode with insane size and power. “Who’s the fucking pipsqueak now?” he yelled, laughing.
Holy crap! He had to be over 12 feet tall, weighing more than 3 tons. The fucking size of him” He was a fucking skyscraper.
Then, with one mighty arm, he reached out, his mammoth triceps forming a gargantuan horseshoe. He bent over, grabbed Aaron with one massive hand and lifted him up. His biceps, now bigger than my torso and with cable-like veins running all over them, barely stressed. As he stood up, I saw him rise up and up and up, until he was a monstrous tower of muscle, standing on thighs as big around as giant redwoods, each head sharply defined under his skin.
“You think you’re so big,” he called down to us in a booming voice. “You’re nothing compared to me, nothing!”
I looked up at him, this inhumanly massive muscle god that moments ago had been Boz’s older brother. I’d felt huge before but now I felt like a little kid next to this guy. He was over 15 feet tall, there was no question. One of his abs, for God’s sake, was bigger than a car tire. And he had ten, boulder like abs leading down from that twin fucking wrecking ball chest to his groin. And fuck, all of his anatomy had grown proportionately. His cock was about half the width of a telephone pole and hung down nearly to his knee.
Shit, I wasn’t sure what to think or what to expect, but then I heard that rumbling churning sound again.
“Fear me, pipsqueaks,” yelled Hank, “’cause here I grow again!” Then he took a stride forward, but it wasn’t quite a stride. He thighs were growing so massive, they were colliding with each other and he started rocking side to side to move. So his stride kind of turned into a waddle.
“Ah, yes,” said Hank, “I can feel it. I’m still getting bigger!” And he was. His back was getting so incredibly wide with giant tectonic plates of muscle, it was forcing those fucking sequoia arms of his out further and further from his sides. In seconds they were at 45 degrees, bending outward from shoulders the size of a refrigerator.
I’m not sure what happened but somehow he dropped Aaron. Hank bent over to try and pick him up again. But he had to swing his entire trunk to get his massive arms to go where he wanted them to go and his biceps and forearms had gotten so incredibly humongous that he couldn’t bend his arms much—which made his attempts at grabbing Aaron really clumsy. Aaron was having no trouble dodging him.
“What’s the matter, big guy?” called Aaron. “Am I too much for you?”
Hank snarled and changed his tactics. Now it looked like he was trying to step on Aaron. But by this time, his thighs were the size of a small car, his calves were about half that and he was having trouble bending his knees. His arms were almost sticking straight out at his sides, due to his expanding continental back, and he could barely see over his two huge mountainous pecs which were continuing to erupt to an ungodly size.
“Hey, come here and give me a hand,” Aaron called to me. I saw what he had in mind, and I ran out to help him. He ran to one giant leg and I ran to the other. Fuck, his leg alone had to weigh twice what I did, and he was trying to kick me. But he wasn’t very fast and dodging it was easy—if you could call it dodging. All I really had to do was step to the side.
“So much for the super hulk pill,” said Aaron, “pathetic.” And I had to agree with him. We each grabbed one monolithic leg and shoved. Hank’s monumental arms flailed for a second, but he lost the balance war pretty quickly and crashed to the ground with an earthshaking thud. All he could do now was rock back and forth on his huge, thick back, while his massive arms and legs wobbled helplessly in the air.
“Wait til I get up from here!” Hank yelled. “I’ll crush you all!”
“Yeah right,” sneered Aaron, and he reached over grabbed Hank’s foot and gave it a shove. Hank started spinning like a mammoth muscle top. “Enjoy the ride, freak,” said Aaron.
“Now, let’s go get my brother,” I said. And we started toward the building.
“Wait, wait,” came a voice. “Don’t trash my building!”
We looked down and there was Roger. Boy, that guy had some balls. “Why shouldn’t we,” I said.
“I’ll make you a deal,” said Roger.
“No deals with these punks,” came Hank’s voice from behind.
“Shut up Hank!” said Roger. “Now what I had in mind is this. We’ll bring your brother and his friend out to you. All you have to do is let us neutralize the nanobots still inside you.”
“Does that mean we won’t be able to spread them?” asked Aaron.
“Exactly,” said Roger.
“No deal,” said Aaron, and most of the other guys seemed to agree with him.
“Ok,” said Roger, “But keep in mind there are still a few guards left, and they’ve all got rifles. Once you’re inside the building and in those narrow corridors your size is going to get in the way and your strength won’t help you much.”
“We won’t let that stop us,” I said. “We’ll get Brad.”
“Sure,” said Roger, “You’ll probably find his brother in the end, but not before we’ve picked a few of you off.”
Then got Aaron really mad, and for a second I though he was going to drop kick Roger into the next county. But I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Huddle. Come on, let’s huddle.”
And we all gathered around in a group wrapped our hands around each other’s shoulders and put our heads together.
“We can’t do it,” said Aaron. “What about Ben Nickerson. He’s not here. He’d kill himself if he missed this.” And the others piped in too. They each knew a guy or two they thought we should change.
“Dudes,” I said, “We’ve got to go along with their plan. I don’t want anyone of you getting hurt. Besides, I said, “I’ve got an ace up my sleeve he doesn’t know anything about.”
There was a chorus of objections. “Calm down,” I said. “Trust me on this. I got you covered. For now we do what they say. That way, I’ll get my brother back, no one will get hurt and all our friends can still get huge, ok?”
It took a little more convincing, but eventually they went along with it. We arraigned it so we’d get the shots one at a time. That we could all watch each other’s backs. When we were half way through with the shots, they brought out Ritchie and when the last of us had our shot they brought out Brad. They were both still sound asleep, but we didn’t have any trouble carrying them.
Since Ritchie’s parents were out of town we decide to take them there. It would be a lot easier than explaining to my mom why her two sons were now 8 feet tall, weighed a ton each and had muscles so mammoth that they needed their own zip codes.
By the time we’d dropped off Brad and Ritchie the sun was rising and morning had come.
“Ok you’ve got your brother back,” said Aaron. “How are we going to make the other guys grow?”
“Simple,” I said pulling out my cell phone and doing my best to punch out a number with my giant fingers.
“Mike,” I said, when he answered the phone. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fucking fantastic,” said Mike.
“You grew, didn’t you? Huge?”
“Pretty fucking huge,” he said. “How did you know?”
“I’m coming over,” I said. “I’ll tell you when I get there. In the mean time, don’t go anywhere and most especially, whatever you do, don’t touch anyone.”
Well, of course I had to tell Mike why he couldn’t touch anyone, and all about the nanobots that were running around inside him, and how had he caught them off me the night before when we were working out.
And what do you think was the first thing he did when he hung up? He ran in and woke up his little brother, David. Shook him gently by the shoulder. That’s all it took
Mike was only too happy to visit any guy we asked him to. Some guys were told what was going to happen to them and some guys got a massive surprise.
David spent the day hanging with his friends at the mall. Around noon time they hit the food court. David started eating and didn’t stop. His friends spent the afternoon watching David shovel down food as he slowly grew taller and his muscles bulged up and tore out of his clothes.
By dinnertime David was benching the family SUV.
And David’s friends… Well, dinnertime at their houses consisted largely of their parents remarking how healthy their sons’ appetites were that evening.
And on it went.
Eventually, of course, people began to notice. The government was called in and Roger’s company was quickly identified as the culprit. The press had a field day. That’s when we found out that the process was testosterone dependent. Women and young kids were virtually immune. And old guys, the effect was much less pronounced in them. Teenagers seemed to get the biggest. Well, I could have told you that.
At first they tried to quarantine the county, but that fell apart pretty quick. It wasn’t that they couldn’t keep us in. The problem was keeping all the other people out. Guys were flocking in from all over hoping to get bit by the bots, as they started to call it. It wasn’t long before cases started popping up in other parts of the state, and then shortly after in other states. When the first international case showed up, that’s when they gave up. They knew they had lost.
They began to focus their efforts on rebuilding the infrastructure to support a much larger human being. In fact, there’s so much construction going on right now, building bigger buildings, larger cars, and wider roads that the recession has been wiped away and we’re now experiencing an economic boom.
I can’t help smiling when I think back on Boz’s words. They seem almost psychic now. “Every guy should be like us,” he’d said. And now… Well, now they were.