The Christmas Journal 9
by F_R_Eaky
Journal entry January 2nd
Just before sleep…and just when I wake up in the morning… the only two times I have my sanity still with me. The moments when I know, remember without a doubt that I am, was, supposed to be a 5’ 9” 180 pound chubby average man. But as I lie there, I become very aware of my new size. So huge, so built, so tall, so broad, so big am I, that my body is almost sentient itself of its size and it feels it too. The amount of power it takes just to move my hand, to lift an arm, to casually move a leg…
I lie there listening to the stillness…or not so still…. Even though I’m not moving, the bed which I know was custom built for me, specifically engineered my height, my width, my mass, it is still groaning slightly, to just my breathing because I am that big. On the nightstand is a two liter bottle of soda, around which is imprinted my entire palm print. I’m so big that my entire hand wraps around the bottle and I drink them like they’re a 20 ouncer. And lying on me is a man…a handsome, built, football player, man. Not a short one either…. 6’ 4”, and his head top is at the top of my chest/shoulders, and his feet, when his legs are extended all the way in his sleep, just barely hit my dick and balls, but he likes to take them and rub them across my abs.
And then it hits me. That realization of how big I am…how strong…how powerful…how much I like it…how much other people like it….and it begins to happen…the lust for more size and power hits me. The desire for more strength more size. The love of being so big, so strong, becoming hundreds of people’s fantasy; becoming MY fantasy. And then it’s too late… I feel it….
pump
a sudden surge shoots through my crotch and into my member.
Pump
My prick head suddenly lurches just a little forward…
PUMP
Heat begins to flood my entire dick…I’ve got to stop thinking about this or the lust is going to consume me and cloud my mind again.
throb
I feel the warmth and weight of my member begin to spread out further and wider along my lower abs, between the footballer’s legs…..
Throb
Although only a lil’ over average compared to my frame, I’m so large my dick is huge compared to the football player lying on my torso….
THROB
My cock is beginning to rise up and up, filling out and getting veiny like my muscular body…
bulge
My muscular body, which is beginning to swell with my cock, the veins slightly pushing up to my skin…I am so beefy, so strong… the largest, strongest man in the world….
Bulge
My prick has risen up, hovering above the legs of the jock on my torso…. I am sooo BIG… I am SOOOO POWERFUL…. I AM SO VIRILE!
BULGE
Standing at attention, my schlong pulses with power, so much, so hard, it no longer throbs it just stands there rigid, quivering, giving off so much heat it feels like a radiator. Worse it’s pulsing in time with my muscles as they have joined in the swell and I can feel all this heat, this power coursing through me. Knowing I can bend still with my bare hands, crush bricks, break blocks of concrete…and….I…..want….more!
My balls seem to expand even larger as if to pump my body with more testosterone for growth. I can’t stand it any longer, this lust has taken hold of me, and roll myself to one side, dumping the jock off my body on to the bed and throw myself out of it. My feet land with a thud that reverberates through the whole house. I take off running through the house, down the stairs, into the living room, my hard as girder cock now bobbing in the air, pulling at my groin sending waves of pain yet pleasure through me causing my lust to increase still! My God, Journal, what am I becoming?
I kneel with a thud before the Christmas tree and the houses and begin to feverishly stroke off my member. I’m soon seeing stars because of the friction between my hand and cock, not having thought of grabbing any lotion. Yet, I don’t care. I’ve got blow a load. I’ve got to cover that house. I’ve got to grow! Soon there is a small soothing sensation on one spot of my prick that begins to run down my shaft. I look to see the jock spreading lotion on my cock and working his hands in and out of my strokes to help me wack it off, with a half awake, punch drunk kind of morning smile on his face. Seeing his little body next to minw, hearing his occasional comments about “this is morning wood.”, and feeling his small hands stroking my mighty meat sends me over the edge in no time and the house is buried in a avalanche of “snow.”
Time stands still. Mid-motion of him taking a large drink from my leaking cock, the hunky delivery guy just freezes in his place. Everything feels like it’s just hanging there in time, not moving. I know what it is…it doesn’t make sense all these body changes, house alterations, perceptions of time and history changing, but I snap my head to look at the house, knowing I will be the only one to hear its song. I will be the only one to know how I become different. I will be the only one to receive the power… Opening under the tremendous pressure of my drying cum, the attic windows of house nine open and the mysterious singers are heard again, causing another volley of spunk to spew forth from me slamming into the house.
“On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me……nine percent increase in weight lifted…..”
Oh……..fuck…….
I sit there spasmming again, while the jock came back to life lapping at my slit hungrily. I know what he’s doing and why. He’s comsumed by the lust and the power too. Whenever we’ve had other blowing sessions, I know he’s secretly taken some in glasses, flasks, to add to his protein shakes, hoping that by drinking my cum, he too will gain in size and power. We head up an take a shower together to get cleaned off and start the day.
It still astounds me, as we stand there next to each other and wash each other off. This man….who I originally would’ve only come up to just under his nose, now only comes up to just above my knee. It has me so turned on my cock never goes fully soft and he jacks me off two …three…times while we’re showering. I’d say that was a waster, but the dings coming from my computer and the red lights that begin to flash in the bathroom, followed by the audio sounds of men gasping, then groaning, then moaning, lets me know, my morning following on the web has been watching us shower and is utterly amazed at how huge and powerful I am. This is especially true, when some of them call out to the jock to ask him how tall he is and they all gasp at his answer, knowing then what kind of behemoth I must be.
My computer automatically states to viewers that as soon as I shut the shower off the cams will go off and to log back on if they wish in about two hours for my premium membership workout. Delivery Guy towels himself off then helps me to do the same, and then assists me getting into my workout gear. We head downstairs again and he helps prepare breakfast for us. You know, his meal alone would cause some folks to go bankrupt, his big, big size and frame for football and all…but he’s got to make mine too and I think mine would cause parts of a country to go bankrupt and starve.
With breakfast done, he grabs his school and play books and heads on out the door. I head on downstairs to the basement to begin my workout. The whole house is rigged to go off at various times throughout the day for various cam shows: Morning wood (my erection happening), morning shower, premium workout, just lounging, evening pose off, and bedtime jack off session. It is what is paying for all my food…well for all my utilities, custom made clothes and furniture. It is my full time job now, besides competitions here and there, I know despite my head reminding me I only have three days of vacation left, I no longer have my original job. Hell, I can’t fit into the building.
So I get some personal things done…not that I could concentrate on them. The box opened, sung its prophecy, so when is it going to happen? It didn’t happen then, not during breakfast, not during my personal errands, was it going to wait until the end of the day again? Am I too lustful for power now it refuses? I try to put it behind me… I can build up even bigger the old fashioned way now. I know how to do it. It’s in my mind, the right form, correct stances, 1,001 exercises: with weights, without weights, using own body weight, positive reps, negative reps, stretches, just under max weight lifts until you can do it one-hundred times easily then add more, maximum amount of weight lifts for only one two or three times, change out of routine every two weeks for maximum body confusion….. I know it all. I……WILL……GROW……MORE…….
So the red light comes on in the basement downstairs. I punch a few keys on my personally sized keyboard and the computer announces to the cam viewers: “He has chosen a silent workout today. I will list exercise, highlight his form, watch closely to see how it is done.” And I begin my workout.
It’s a chest one today. I’m warming up with some dumbbell flies on a bench. I hoist them up, rest them on my thighs, lean back keeping them parallel with my abs as I go down, slowly extend my elbows out, then forearms, and begin to lower the weight towards the ground and then bring the bells up to meet above my pecs. I perform this motion with a tight as and slightly flexed abs, to ensure that my arms, chest, and shoulders are doing the work and not my back. I bring them up, one…..hooooo……two….hoooooo……three……hooooo…..four…… ..hoooo….. ff ff ffi five veee vuh huh huh…..
It’s the middle of the workout and it hits me, that black hole feeling. My gut is working over time. The pain, the hollow feeling has kicked in so badly, I cry. It burns through my breakfast and the three power shakes I had in no time. Somehow, I can feel more power shakes, more food, appearing in my stomach and they get burned up too. An abnormal sweat breaks out all over my body, as this was just the warm up I shouldn’t even be breaking into a sweat now. I’m shaking with the weights, almost like I’m weak, but that’s not it. I’m not sure what to do. I couldn’t tell what was going to happen. The I just knew… I had to keep working out.
SIX…SEVEN….EIGHT…NINE….TEN…..ELEVEN…..FIFTEEN…..TW ENTY…… FORTY…EIGHTY…TWO HUNDRED!
I toss down the warm up weights they’re nothing! Adjusting the bench press I set out to work on it and the session kicked in a thousand times worse….
ONE….. pump
I get the weight slowly up and back down again…it’s right at my maximum, a good challenge.
TWO…. Pump
The weight becomes easier I can do about five to six times now.
THREE……PUMP
My skin begins to tighten around me a little bit… I’m tossing this weight around twenty….forty….times… what am I showing these people how to be a wuss?
FIFTY…….swell
Two plates come floating off the weight rack and onto the bar I’m lifting. I’m straining again, but I’m getting it done. My muscles are beginning to swell now, making my shirt and shorts a lil tight.
SIXTY…….Swell
Two more plates join the bar and I’m work at it to push it up but for all my struggle on the first rep it’s just as easy on the fifteenth rep. My veins are beginning to rise to the surface, sending blood and nutrients to my body, engorging my muscles, feeding them making them grow….
EIGHTY…..SWELL
Four plates smack themselves on the bar….I’m once again back at maximum but with each rep it gets lighter and lighter and lighter… COME ON! DAMN IT! I thought I tricked this place out like only an Olympic level athlete could train here, like only the strongest power lifter could think about walking in, like only I could even begin to toss weight around, like only a god could come in here and move these mountains of weight! My arms begin to split the sleeves of my work out shirt, my chest expands making the shirt paper thin, my sweat causing it so one could see my chest, my abs through the shirt.
ONE SIXTY!.........bulge
Four more plates smack on either side of the bar… Once again I’m trembling, trembling at trying to lift this weight… not even I can lift this. It is not possible… yet within a few reps, I’m lifting it with ease. My arms have exploded out of my sleeves, my chest has cause the front of my shirt to split open, my thighs have begun to cause my shorts to split down the side.
THREE TWENTY!!.........Bulge
Still more plates clang onto the side of the bar. The weight is tryin to crush me! I will not be defeated! It is nothing…NOTHING! I scream …. I bellow…. I yell…. “UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!” It is defiance of the weight. It is to psych myself up. It is in pain as I feel the muscles bunch up even more and more in size and strength and to accommodate my body adjusts my widening my shoulder span a bit more. The front shirt split is now down to my navel, the sleeves are non existant, the back is being torn in two…my shorts are only clinging on to me by my waist band….
SIX FORTY!!!.................BULGE
Yet more plates come from every direction add themselves to the bar, STILL I will not be stopped!
“GGGGRRRRRRRRRRREEEAAAAAAAUUUUUGH!”
My body responds by swelling even more, pushing the limits of my skin. My veins becoming so thick, so plump, so pumped with blood, and it cause my muscles to swell like they’re a balloon being filled instantly with hundreds of gallons of water. There is no more shirt, there is no more shorts. There isn’t even any more jock strap as I’ve become erect while doing this workout.
The original count now of this weight, testing me, making me shake. It’s my newest weight for the records books… my arms are shaking now, my chest so swollen, so tight I would swear it’s bullet proof and there is no way I can see over it. Arms shaking, body quaking, veins popping out all over me, slowly my hands go up…up…up…up….until they reach their spot for rest on the bar. FUCK IT!
In a rush of adrenaline, because I just defeated those puny weights, I stand up with those weights, over my head military press style! I hold them there for a good long while and then in laughter and disgust, throw them across the room. They land with an ear wrenching crash that thunders around the house, causing cracks in that area of the concrete floor.
“WHOOOOO! YEAAAAAAAH!” I bounced around like I am the winner of a boxing match, each time I land, though it’s on concrete, concrete on the ground, in the basement. You can hear me…. The pad of my foot sends seismic waves through the earth. I am a beast. I am a freak of muscle….and I love it.
After a shower, I spent the whole rest of the day on cam, posing, flexing, jerking, until the pump wore off, which took like seven hours. Guys logged on instantly moaning, spasmming, cumming at the mere site of me, and when my hunky delivery guy came back by with his friend, they instantly came in their pants too. The last cam show of the evening wasn’t me lifting it was a comparison show between them and me, and how they could climb all over me I was so big, huge, monstrous and they were so small. The one is calling me back to bed now. He wants to see how much smaller his actual head is compared to my biceps head now. We just spent the last two hours in a jack off session. They didn’t touch my cock; they just kept running their hands over and over and over my muscles, feeling their density, outlining the ridges, nooks, crannies, and crevices, tracing the rivers of veins that criss-cross my body with their tongues, jacking their own cocks in the areas of my muscle mass so thick they could place their cock in it and whack off.
Journal…..there are still three days left. I want four……