The Hulk Pill 2
by Jaypat
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.”
“That sucks.”
“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.
Damn.
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.”