Eustace Conquers the World
by Jaypat
Oh Christ, here we go again, I thought as I ran down the high school steps. I shoved my way through the small crowd and into the center. There was Kenny Larkin bent over poor Eustace again, just beating the crap out of him. What was the matter with these people? Why didn’t they stop this?
I grabbed Kenny by the shoulders and managed to pull him off Eustace. He turned around and took a swing at me, but I ducked and let him have it right in the kisser. He fell back and looked up at me. “What is it with you, McNealy?” he said. “Why can’t you let the shrimp fight his own battles?”
“Why does he have to fight any battles?” I said. “He didn’t do anything to you.”
“Yeah, and how do you know that?”
“Because he never does anything to you,” I said.
“Well you better hope I don’t do anything to you,” said Kenny.
“Any time, Larkin,” I said. “Take your best shot.”
He looked at me and snorted. “You’re lucky I’ve got better things to do.” He stood up and looked at poor bleeding Eustace. “You,” he said pointing at Eustace, “I will see later.” Then he sauntered away.
“You ok, Eustace?” I asked offering him my hand.
“No,” he said taking my hand and standing up. “I’m bleeding quite profusely from several small wounds and I have contusions over at least twenty percent of my body.”
Eustace always spoke like that—he had for as long as I’d known him, and I’d known him since kindergarten. We lived next to each other; our fathers worked at the same company; basically, we had grown up together. I can’t really say he was my best friend. That would have been Todd Glickman. I can’t say he was like a brother to me either, because we weren’t really that close. I mean how do you get close to someone who speaks like an encyclopedia?
“You want to go see the nurse?” I asked.
“Certainly not,” said Eustace. “I’d rather go to the local veterinarian then let that incompetent Florence Nightingale get her hands on me. I have sufficient bandages and antiseptic at home. I’ll tend to it myself.”
“I’ll walk with you,” I said.
“There’s no need,” said Eustace.
“I know there isn’t,” I said, “but I’m going home anyway and I live right next door.”
“Very well,” said Eustace. He tried to sound annoyed but I could tell he was happy I was walking with him. Kenny Larkin loved to beat up on Eustace and it would be just like him to be waiting a block away.
“You know this is getting quite intolerable,” said Eustace, as we started down the street. “It’s getting so I can’t walk out the school door with out that ruffian accosting me.”
“Have you told a teacher?”
“Repeatedly. They give him detention when they catch him, but that doesn’t stop him. His beatings just increase in intensity the next day.”
“What about your parents?”
“They also have lodged complaints with the school and with Kenneth’s parents. But neither of these actions has been effective.”
“Have you tried fighting back?” I asked. “Kenny’s not that big. And if he thought you’d give him trouble, he probably wouldn’t pick on you so much.”
“Alas, he is big enough. Any effort I might make would be extremely futile.”
I looked at Eustace. He was the epitome of the skinny nerd. Guys were always beating up on him. Part of it was his size, but part of it was the way he talked, and the way he dressed—he wore loafers and a blazer to school. No one dressed like that. I used to think it was his parents who made him dress that way. But one day, when I’d been over his house with my family for dinner, I discovered it had been his idea.
“I think it’s important to look one’s best at all times and at every occasion,” he’d said.
“But it’s just not normal,” I’d said.
“If by normal you are referring to the slovenly manor in which our peers regularly accouter themselves, you are correct.”
“And why do you talk like that?” I’d asked.
“The English language contains a pulchritudinous plethora of magnificent words, with which one can express ideas with precise and subtle shades of meaning. I see no reason to limit myself to a few common and coarse utterances simply to blend in with the great unwashed masses.”
It was at that point I pretty much gave up on him. This guy was doomed to have the shit kicked out of him for the rest of the time we were in school. It wasn’t particularly right or fair, but I knew that was the way the world worked.
And if he wouldn’t change the way he acted, maybe there was another way he could keep from getting beat up all the time. And as we walked home from school that day, I wracked my brains trying to think of one.
“Why don’t you bulk up a little?” I suggested.
“Me?” he laughed. “You jest.”
“Why not?” I asked. “It’s not hard. The basics are pretty simple. You’re in honors math biology and computer science. It shouldn’t give you any trouble at all.”
“I’m not concerned with mastering the principles,” he said. “It’s just not my style, as it were.”
“Oh and getting beat up? Is that your style?”
Eustace sighed and shook his head. “Haven’t you observed? All our muscle-bound classmates are sophomoric beer-guzzling idiots and I refuse to reduce myself to their level.”
“So instead you’ll let Kenny Larkin reduce you to a pulp.”
He paused. “You make a good argument, but the idea of me becoming muscle-bound is completely ludicrous.”
“No one said you had to become muscle-bound,” I said. “Just put on enough muscle so that Kenny Larkin will leave you alone. It shouldn’t take that much. As I said, Kenny’s not that big. And it’s not like you have to beat him up, just give him a little trouble and he’ll find someone easier. Trust me.”
Eustace got silent. I could tell he was actually thinking it over. “I suppose I’d have to join a gym,” he said. I could tell he was imagining all the abuse he might get at a gym, but I had a solution to that as well.
“No, I’ve got a weight set in my basement. Come on over tonight and I’ll show you the ropes. We can work out together.”
“You’d work out with me?”
“Sure, I mean I work out with Todd Glickman all the time.”
Suddenly Eustace looked nervous. “He won’t be attending tonight’s session, will he?”
“No, I promise tonight it’ll be just you and me, ok?”
“Very well,” he said. “I feel a little ridiculous, but I’ll try and keep an open mind.”
“That’s all I ask.”
That night at exactly 7:00 the door bell rang.
“Good evening, Richard,” said Eustace as I opened the door. He was wearing his school gym uniform.
“Hey, Eustace,” I said. “Come on in.”
“I hope this is appropriate attire,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said. I had on an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt I’d torn the sleeves off of.
“Richard,” said Eustace, “I had no idea your deltoids were so developed. Your triceps brachii and biceps brachii seem quite large, too.”
“Ah… thanks, Eustace,” I said flexing for him.
Suddenly he reached out, grabbed my arm, and squeezed my muscle. It kind of took me by surprise. I mean I didn’t mind it when people felt my bicep. I was just kind of used to being asked first.
“And the muscle seems quite dense as well,” he continued.
“15 ½ inches cold,” I said.
“I take it that’s the circumference,” he said. For some reason he still had hold of my arm. He was rubbing and messaging it.
“It is,” I said. “I hope this doesn’t make me a sophomoric idiot.”
“Oh no, Richard, I never…” he said, turning red, and finally releasing my bicep. I guessed I’d embarrassed him. But I was beginning to think there might be something else going on as well.
“That’s ok, Eustace,” I said. “Let’s go down stairs and get started.”
“Of course,” he said.
I took him down to the basement. He stood and stared at my weight bench like he was staring at some kind of torture device. For a second I thought he was going to run. “Shouldn’t we measure my arm first?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. I had a tape measure down there that Todd and I used to keep track of our progress. I pulled it out and wrapped it around Eustace’s bone thin upper arm.
“8 inches,” I said.
“You’re joking,” he said.
“’Fraid not,” I said.
“Do you realize your arm is nearly twice the circumference of mine?”
I hadn’t thought of it like that, but when I did, it made me feel kinda good. But I didn’t want Eustace to see that. “Well, that’s why we’re here,” I said, “to work on that.”
“And we should get started at once,” said Eustace. I could see the difference in our arm size had shocked him. I guess he’d never realized exactly how skinny he was.
I took Eustace through a pretty light arm workout. He couldn’t handle much more than 5 pound dumbbells anyway. I would start by demonstrating and then I’d let him do it. I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t so much staring at my form when I demonstrated the exercise as he was staring at my bicep bulging in and out as it worked. A glance downward finished the picture. He was tenting.
“Eustace, let me make something really, really clear right off the bat,” I said putting down the dumbbell. “I am not interested into you sexually at all. I admit I’ve experimented with both sexes. But girls pretty much own me in that department. It would take a pretty huge über-stud to turn my head away from them, and with all due respect, that is not you. Do we understand each other?”
Eustace turned beet red, but thank God, he didn’t deny it. He just said softly, “Yes, that’s clear.”
“Good, I hope we can still be friends.”
“As do I,” he said.
We did curls, hammer curls, skull crushers and wrist curls, but the most he could manage was only two sets. I decided I wouldn’t start my workout until after he left. I didn’t want him to feel discouraged when he saw the poundage I worked out with.
When we were done, he let his arms hang by his side like wet noodles. “I’m exhausted,” he said. The he raised his right arm and flexed it. There was a slight bump there now. “Am I experiencing muscle hypertrophy?” he asked.
“No,” I laughed, “not yet. You’ve just got a slight pump.”
“Of course,” said Eustace, “It’s merely the blood being forced into my biceps brachii, causing a temporary increase in size. Not unlike the way blood being forced into the penis causes an erection.”
What the…??? I started laughing. “Are you trying to say your arm has a hard-on?”
“Yes,” he said, “and I don’t know why you’re laughing. Biologically speaking, it’s a similar process.”
“Yeah, ok, sure, whatever.”
“So when can I expect the size increase to become permanent,” asked Eustace.
“Well,” I said, “We’ll work you out 5 days a week, doing a different body part on each day. I’ll help you put together a diet, which you have to stick to religiously. You’ll need to get at least 8 hours of sleep a night, every night. And then in a couple of months we’ll measure you again and see where you are.”
“A couple of months!” exclaimed Eustace.
“Come on, Eustace,” I said. “You’re in honors biology. You know these things don’t happen overnight.”
“Well, yes, but a couple of months? I have to go thought this torture 5 days a week and engage in all the other practices you described for a period of months. That seems extreme.”
“Well, that’s the way it works,” I said.
“Ridiculous. There must be a better way.”
“Well, there’s steroids but at our age that’d be pretty stupid. We still have a lot of natural hormones running through our systems and adding steroids to the mix could stunt our growth.”
“I’m not talking about steroids,” said Eustace. “Science has made great strides in the fields of genetic research and in treating muscle wasting diseases. There must be someway to adapt all of that to streamline the process.”
“There probably is,” I said. “But we’d never get near that stuff.”
“Let me get back to you on that,” said Eustace, as he turned and marched up the steps.
“Are you going to come back tomorrow?” I called after him.
“Probably, probably,” he called down to me and then I heard the back door open and shut.
I shook my head and then settled into my own workout. Poor Eustace. It was going to be a long and hard road for him, but I really did hope he’d stick with it. It would be good for him in the long run.
The next day, Eustace didn’t come to school and I stopped by his house after I got home that afternoon.
When Eustace opened the door, I could tell he had been expecting someone else.
“Richard,” he said when he saw me, “Come in. Come in. I’m glad you stopped by.”
“When you weren’t in school today, I got a little worried,” I said, coming in.
“I’ve been doing quite a bit of research into muscles,” he said. “They’re really a quite fascinating subject. Did you know how necessary skeletal muscles are to a healthy cardio vascular system?”
I shook my head.
“Well, they are and that’s just the beginning. They make injuries of all kinds less likely and they burn fat just by existing. It’s amazing.
“I just kind of like the way they make me look and feel,” I said.
“Well, of course there’s that aspect as well. Men with muscular physiques generally have more self confidence, better sex lives, are healthier and even get better jobs. The only downside I’ve been able to find,” said Eustace, “is the whole workout process. Incidentally, I could hardly move my arms this morning. Thank you very much for that.”
“It’s the price you pay,” I said.
“Hither to, it was the price you paid,” said Eustace. And as if on queue the doorbell rang. Eustace pulled the door open and received a package from a delivery man. He ripped it open. It was full of small bottles. He pulled one out, and showed it to me.
“This is AU-32,” he said, “a myostatin blocker.”
“Where did you get that,” I gasped. “I didn’t know they were available yet.”
“Strictly speaking, they’re not,” said Eustace. “But if you have the money, there isn’t much you can’t obtain.”
“And you have the money?” I questioned.
“I’m quite skilled in playing the stock market,” said Eustace, “and even in this economy I’ve been able to do quite well.”
“So how much did this stuff cost?” I asked.
“Let’s just say it would comfortably pay for a semester at college.”
“What college?” I asked.
“Any college,” he said.
“Oh.”
“At any rate, it should cut down on our time table considerably. And there are many other avenues I’ve been exploring as well. It might surprise you to learn just how many biotech options there are. Of course none of them were created for this particular purpose, but if properly applied they could be quite beneficial.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. So, are you coming over after dinner?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Should I bring an extra syringe for you?” he asked, shaking the little bottle in his hand.
Whoa, that kind of took me by surprise. A myostatin blocker? I’d read a little about them. They’re not like steroids. There aren’t supposed to be any bad side effects and they’re supposed to work really good. But all that money…
“You’d do that for me?” I asked.
“Richard, after all you’ve done, and are still doing for me, it’s the least I can do to reciprocate.”
“Well, thanks, yeah, definitely bring another syringe.”
“I will, but I must ask you not to say anything to anyone about this, even Todd Glickman. It’s not strictly legal.”
“Yeah, I won’t say anything.”
So, when Eustace came over that night, we injected ourselves before we began. Eustace said one shot every two weeks was enough to keep the myostatin at bay, and that sounded fine to me. I didn’t like needles very much anyway.
I put Eustace through a shoulder and chest workout, and then Todd came over and I had my workout with him. I couldn’t believe how hard it was not to tell him about the blocker, but I didn’t. I wondered how long it would take me to notice a difference. It wasn’t long.
Two weeks later, just before we took our second shots, I pulled out the tape measure and measured Eustace’s arm. 9 inches, I read. Holy crap, I had to check that again. Nope, it was right. Eustace had put an inch on his arms in two weeks. Jesus.
“That’s most satisfactory,” said Eustace, and he flexed. That bump that had been merely a pump two weeks ago was now solid, permanent muscle.
I had Eustace measure me. I was at 16! Damn. That was a half inch for me. But I didn’t feel jealous or anything because I was pretty certain there was more muscle in my half inch then there was in Eustace’s inch. And damn! 16 inches. I had 16 inch biceps! How cool was that!
For the next week, I began noticing how my clothes were fitting differently and how my body was moving differently. I was really enjoying the feel of all the new muscle on my frame. I would flex at every opportunity, and invite people to feel my biceps. I guess I was becoming a bit of a showoff, but WTF.
During one of our workouts Todd asked me if I was on steroids. For the past three weeks, I’d been making impressive gains while he’d only been inching forward. I really wanted to tell him but I promised Eustace not to. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to lie to him. “No dude,” I said. “I’m not on steroids.”
I could have happily gone on like this for the rest of the school year, but Kenny Larkin had to screw everything up. I came out of the school door one day only to find him beating up on poor Eustace again. Even with his new 10-inch biceps, Eustace was still no match for Kenny.
I pulled Kenny off him, only this time I didn’t stop there. I don’t know if I was angry or just high on my new size and strength. After all, my bis were now pushing 17 inches, and I was starting to look pretty jacked all around. I fucking nailed Kenny in the stomach and when he doubled over, I hit him with a right cross. The fight, if you could call it that, was over that fast. Kenny just lay there on the ground, clutching his stomach and bleeding from a split lip.
“If you ever touch Eustace again, I will fucking rip your head off, Larkin! You get that?” Then I kicked some dirt on him and went to see how Eustace was doing.
“Are you ok, buddy,” I said. He was really bruised and bleeding, a lot worse than last time.
“I tried fighting back,” he said, “just as you advised. It simply outraged him more.”
“Give it a couple more months,” I said, “then he’ll be the one worrying about fighting back.”
“If I live that long,” said Eustace. “The process is still taking too long. I need to rethink things.”
I walked home with him, but he didn’t say another word all the way back to his house.
Eustace didn’t come over that evening. It was the first workout session he’d missed and he wasn’t in school the next day either. I stopped by his house after school but no one answered the door bell. I was really concerned. I tried his cell and got voicemail. I left a message for him to call me.
That night he was a no show again and also at school the next day. I got my mom to call his mom, and found out that Eustace was apparently not feeling well but it was nothing serious. It went on like that for a week. Finally, I was coming out of Algebra and going into a free period. I pulled out my cell phone to check my messages and was surprised to see one from Eustace. He sounded weird and all he said was he needed me to call him back immediately. I ducked inside an empty classroom and made the call.
“Richard,” he said from the other end. “Can you come over directly? I need your assistance.”
“Eustace, I don’t know if you realize this, but it’s the middle of the day and I’m at school.”
“I know and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t vital. Please come over right away.”
I thought about it for a second. I had been worried about Eustace and curious about what he’d been doing for the past week. I decided to blow off the second half of the day and see what he was up to.
“Ok, Eustace, I’m coming.”
“Excellent.”
When Eustace opened the door he looked horrible. He was in a t-shirt and boxers only. He had kind of a scraggly beard—at least as much of a scraggly beard as he could grow. His hair was a mess and he had circles under his eyes.
“Jeeze, Eustace, are you ok?”
“Yes, yes, come with me.”
He grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs to his bed room. It was a shambles. Dirty clothes bed sheets, books, were scattered everywhere. In the center was what looked like an old fiberglass sauna cabinet, except wires and tubes were running in and out of it, and it looked like he had it hooked up to his computer. On the floor around it were scattered sections of copper and glass tubing, pieces of wire, circuit boards, a bunch of brackets, clamps, and assorted pieces of hardware.
“You invited me for a high tech sauna?” I asked.
“No, no,” he said. “I need you to strap me in. I can’t do it myself.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
For an answer he pulled open the sauna cabinet doors. The seat was still there but now it was surrounded by a tangle of wires and tubing that would be a plumber’s and electrician’s nightmare.
He promptly pulled off his t-shirt, sat on the seat and proceeded to fasten these elastic-like clamps around his calf and thighs.
“What is this thing?” I asked.
“You see these bands,” he said pointing the band around his thigh. This is wired with electrodes. At certain predetermined points it will send a current into my thigh muscles causing them to contract.”
“You mean like those machine that are supposed to give you a workout while you lay there.”
“Yes, that’s the idea. I need you to strap in my chest, midriff, arms and shoulders,” he said.
“Dude, this looks dangerous,” I said. “And I don’t think it’s going to work any better than ordinary workouts.”
“By itself, you’d probably be right, but it’s only part of the program.”
“What program?”
“Just strap me in and I’ll explain as we go.”
I looked at him sitting there just in his boxers, scrawny little Eustace, and I got seriously worried about him.”
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I said.
“Please, Richard, just do this for me. There isn’t anyone else I can turn to. I’m begging you.”
“What if you get hurt?” I asked.
“I won’t. Really, I know what I’m doing.” I looked at him. He seemed so sincere, so desperate. “Please,” he said.
“Ok,” I said placing the straps around his chest, stomach, shoulders and arms. “What do I do next?”
“I need you to insert the catheters.”
“What?” I gasped.
“There are two needles on either side of me. I need you to stick one into each arm at the vein and I need you to insert one into each of my thighs.”
“You want me to stick needles in you? What for?”
He nodded his head towards the sides of the cabinet and for the first time I notice several plastic bags of fluids hanging on stands.
“One of those is a protein compound; one speeds up the metabolism, one is a cortical steroid mixed with a substance which will prevent my growth plates from closing. Over there is a growth hormone. That’s a calcium solution and next to it is a saline drip to keep my body fluids at a safe level. And the last one is a substance I like to call, agent X.”
“Agent X?”
“You can think of it as one of the world’s first smart drugs. It’s cutting edge. Not even out of the labs yet.”
“What does it do?”
“It makes miracles possible,” he said. “One day it will probably be growing new organs for people, but today, its task is much simpler—biologically speaking.”
“What’s it all for?” I asked.
“If my calculations are correct, it should add 20 pounds of muscle to my frame and maybe an inch to my height.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
I looked at him all strapped into that thing and I had to admit, he looked pretty serious.
“How long do you have to sit in there?”
“It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, “You’re kidding,” again.
“Could you please get on with it? This isn’t very comfortable.” There was a pause where I didn’t move. “I’ll tell you what,” he sad, “if this works I’ll let you have a turn. How’s that?”
The idea of putting on 20 pounds of muscle in just a few minutes was definitely appealing but…
“I can’t stick needles into you.” I said, “I wouldn’t know how.”
“I’ll guide you through it,” he said.
I hesitantly picked up the needle and, listening very carefully to everything Eustace said, I tried to stick it in his vein. I actually missed it the first time, but what did he want? I wasn’t a doctor or a nurse or even very good in biology. It took me about half an hour, but I got all four needles in place.
“How do I know when to add what?” I said looking at all the plastic bags.
“It’s all computer controlled,” he said. “It will monitor my vital signs and add the proper compound in the right amount at the appropriate moment.”
“If you say so,” I said. I was definitely having serious doubts about this.
“Fiberglass is a good insulator,” said Eustace. “You’d better close the cabinet doors.”
“What good is an insulator going to do you? You’re already inside with all the electricity.”
“It’s not for my protection,” said Eustace. “It’s for yours.”
“Oh,” I said and I closed the doors. Now all that was visible was Eustace’s head sticking out of the hole in the top. “What now?” I said.
“Just hit the enter key,” said Eustace.
I looked over at his computer keyboard. How many times had I hit an enter key. I couldn’t count. That’s all this was, wasn’t it? Just one more punch on an enter key. I hit it.
I heard a wining, clunking, whirring noise start up I looked over at Eustace just in time to see him his head jerk. “Ahh!” he cried as he clenched his teeth and shut his eyes.
“You ok, buddy,” I asked.
“Yes,” he rasped, “I’m fine. …bound to be a little pain…ARRRRGH!”
“Just say the word and I’ll pull the plug,” I said.
“No!” he cried. “…have to do this…Ohhhhhhhh! …think it’s starting to work…AH! AH! …arms feel thicker… AHHHH! Check the monitor… body weight…”
I went over to the computer monitor and looked at it. All his vitals were on display. I was no doctor but the readouts looked crazy. I found his body weight without much trouble. I knew Eustace weighed about 115, but this said 120.
“120,” I called out.
“Already?” he said “…happening much faster…ARRRGH!”
“You want me to switch off?”
“NO! Under no circumstances! OH MY GOD! ARGHHHHHHHHHH!” and suddenly I saw the reading jump up 10 pounds.
“130!” I called out.
“Oh my God!” he cried.
“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he cried. “…chest bigger…working better than… better than anticipated,” he gasped. “Feels amazing. UMPH!...legs…feel legs growing… weight! Call out weight…AH!”
“132,” I said.
“No! Too soon…set to cut out at 135…too soon to stop…Ohhhh…must keep going…AH! AHHHH! ...delete target weight…ARGH!”
“What?”
“…number under body weight…OHHH! Delete it.”
I looked at his body weight again. Christ it was at 133. Below it was the number he was talking about. It said 135. I was no idiot. He had set it to cut out at 135, after he had gained 20 pounds. That seemed like a safe and sane thing to do. But now he wanted to keep going.
“Hurry up!” he yelled. “…feel weight increasing rapidly… Delete it.”
The reading bumped up to 134. Should I do this? Was he thinking rationally? Wouldn’t suddenly gaining 20 pounds put a strain on his heart? What about more than 20 pounds?
“Richard, please…Ohhhhh… Begging you….”
And suddenly in an instant I made my decision. I’m still not sure why I did what I did but in a kind of a panic, I quickly highlighted the number and hit delete, just as his body weight hit 135.”
“135,” I cried out.
“YES!” he shouted. “Thank you, Richa… AHH! AHHH! ARRRRRGH!”
Then I saw the indicator jump up to 145.
“145!” I yelled. “That’s 30 pounds. Don’t you think we should stop now?”
“NO!....ARGHHHHH… My God… Back broadening… OHHHHH…feels too good to stop…,” he said. I looked over at him and I have to say I was a little shocked at what I saw. His eyes weren’t closed. They were about as wide open as they could get and he was baring his teeth in a kind of a grimace. He looked a little wild… but at the same time, he looked like he liked it… a lot. And Jesus, his neck… his neck was definitely thicker. You could see cords of muscle and veins standing out all over it.
“…feels amazing. Ohhh Oh Ah!” he said. “…pick up pace...”
Fuck, he was over 150 now. “Pick up the pace? Dude, you just gained 35 pounds in a few minutes. Is that even healthy?”
“…don’t know…,” he said gasping. But, it feels incredible…AH! AH! AHHHHHHH!”
Christ, he was at 160!
“Stomach feels solid…tight… awesome… Let’s see how far we can go… ARGHHHH! …agent X…,” he continued.
“What about Agent X?” I said. Holy shit! 163.
“…increase…OHHHH OHHHH MY GOD!!!!!”
“Is that a good idea?” 170!
“INCREASE! OH OHHH AHHHHHH!”
“Ok, ok. How much?” 176.
“ALL OF IT! OH CHRIST ALL OF IT! ARRRRRRRGH!”
Jesus, he was at186! That was more than 70 fucking pounds. I couldn’t help thinking that if I were smart, I’d pull the plug right now. If he really had added 70 pounds of muscle, he’d be able to take Kenny Larkin with one hand tied behind his back. But looking over at his face, at that savage almost animalistic expression, I realized we’d gone beyond Kenny Larkin. Something else was happening here. He was loving what was happening to his body, even more than he hated Kenny Larkin. And he wanted more. I could either give it to him or deny it to him. But he was my friend, so I decided to give it to him.
I saw little indicator bars for the different substances. They went from one to a hundred. Agent X was currently set on 33.
I looked over at Eustace breathing heavy in his sauna. “You ready for this, buddy?”
“Yes… oh,yes…Richard,” he called, gasping. “… AHHH OH AHHH…”
Christ, he just topped 200 pounds.
“…must know how far I can… Oh my God! …give me all of it…ah ahh all of it!”
He weight was at 207. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” I said, and I dragged the indicator bar from 33 all the way up to 100.
“AARRRRRRGGGG!” he yelled and suddenly the sauna started shaking, harder and harder, faster and faster. “YES, RICHARD, YES, THIS IS….ARRGHHHHHHHH HA HA HA! ARGHHHHH! ” It was hard to tell if he was screaming or laughing. It seemed to be a combination of both, and it was getting deeper.
His weight was just fucking shooting up. It was over 230 now. Fuck. No, it was 240. No, 250.
And then I saw Eustace’s neck. It… It was getting thicker. I was actually watching it expand wider and wider. And then, holy crap, it was slowly rising up from the sauna at the same time.
And Jesus, his weight was zoomimg straight for 300!”
“OH MY G…AHHHHHHHH! HA HA HA HA! ARRRRGH.” Now I could see his shoulders… no, not his shoulders. Those were traps… mammoth hilly masses of muscle and they were jammed up against the underside of the sauna top. And his neck, it was thicker than his head! Oh my god. This was way out of control.
I ran over to the computer. Damn, his weight was at 380!
“Eustace! 380!” I yelled, but I didn’t think he was listening to me anymore. Whatever he was experiencing, it had him completely in its grip.
“ARRRRGHHHH YES ARRRRRRRGH HA HA HA! HOLY CHRIST!”
I stared at the keyboard. Crap! How did you turn this thing off? I glanced at the monitor and stared open mouthed at the indicator. HOLY CRAP it was racing upwards. Passing 450 pounds, 460, 470, 480…
“ARRRGHHH! CAN’T… CAN’T HOLD ME!” bellowed Eustace. “CAN’T CONTAIN ME….ARRRRRRRRGH! I heard the unmistakable sound of warping fiberglass. I whiled around and saw the cabinet bulging out all over. Fuck. Eustace’s gargantuan traps were bending up the top, ripping the fiberglass seams and tearing free. The sides were warping out, too, creaking, cracking and exploding outward as the biggest fucking pair of ripped segmented shoulders I’d ever seen blew out of them. As he continued to grow up out of the ripped apart sauna, I caught sight of the slope of some mammoth pecs stretching out toward me from below his fireplug neck.
But suddenly there were several loud pops and an eruption of smoke, as the whirring wining noise cut out completely. What ever Eustace’s contraption was, it was now dead. There was an acrid stench as a combination of ozone, smoke and steam filled the air and engulfed the ruined sauna, blocking it from view.
I took a step closer, trying to peer through the gloom when suddenly the doors were ripped from their hinges and flung clear across the room, by a pair of gargantuan arms, one of which was almost as big as my torso. And slowly a huge shape began to rise up out of the ruined cabinet. Fuck, that can’t be Eustace. He was so fucking massive. He seemed unbelievably wide and he just kept on rising, up and up and up. Oh my God… He had to be 7 feet tall and he must be at least five feet wide at the shoulders, with huge thick enormous traps on either side of a tree trunk neck.
The smoke was clearing and I was starting to get a better look at him. He had gigantic, satiated delts that flowed into enormous, veined wrapped upper arms that looked like two massive muscle mountains, even when relaxed. His forearms were as thick around as a goal post, and his chest was two basketballs, hard, solid and ripped.
His abs… His abs were eight fucking mountainous plateaus of muscle leading down to his python cock and his orange-sized balls. And his legs, crap, his thighs were so wide, I could probably stand behind one and you’d never see me. And I could see each and every gigantic leg muscle bulge and ripple under his skin.
And what was that? Oh my God, there was still a measly scrap of cloth plastered to one of his massive bulging thighs. Must be all that was all that was left when his legs, erupting with all that unbelievable size and power, blew his boxers into shreds.
It was then that it sunk home. Holy crap, this was skinny little Eustace, the same kid who’d answered the door dressed in only his boxers and a t-shirt! It was still Eustace’s face, but the body... Little Eustace had exploded into a gigantic muscle beast, the biggest man I had ever seen or even heard about.
He flexed a bicep and grinned as it expanded into a vein covered basketball. He felt it, squeezing and messaging it the way he had once done to my arm. Then ran his hands over his massive, rock hard pecs and down over his muscle brick stomach and down to his mammoth cock.
“I’ve had dreams like this,” said Eustace, “especially this past week. And this one is so good and I’m so grateful to have had it that I don’t think I’ll mind waking up.”
“Oh my God, Eustace,” I said. “This is no fucking dream.”
“Even better,” he grinned. “Richard, you may suck my massive muscle cock…if you wish.”
Fuck, looking at him… so much muscle bulging out over every inch of his giant frame, I felt myself go rock hard in under a second. Almost before I knew what I was doing, I was on my knees and taking him into my mouth. As I licked and tongued the head, I ran my free hand over his boulder like thighs. Damn they were huge, iron hard, and I could feel them bulging and writhing under his smooth skin. I think we came simultaneously, but the force of his ejaculation knocked me on my ass.
“Thank you, for that Richard,” He boomed. Christ, even his voice was powerful. “That was sublime.”
Then Eustace pulled a most muscular and every one of his incredibly large, incredibly powerful muscles bulged out all over him. Just the sight was enough to bring me to a second climax.
“I believe I am ready to return to school now,” he said.