The Hulk Pill 4
by Jaypat
“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?”
“Yup.”
“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.
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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.”
“What?”
“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?”
“Ahh… Ahh…”
“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 losing 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.