The Swimming Hole 5 (musc)

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The next day I got up early. And after a shower—during which I thoroughly enjoyed my slightly harder, definitely larger body—I tried to figure out how I was going to pull off all those full body makeovers. I had my gallon jug but I couldn’t walk around school with a gallon jug. That would be just a little too weird. I had to come up with something else.

We had a case of spring water bottles. I pulled out one of them and emptied about a quarter of it out. Then I carefully refilled it from my gallon jug. I figured that just a swallow from that bottle would seriously bulk up any guy who drank it.

On my way to school, I stopped by Kurt’s to pick him up. But my humungous friend met me at the door dressed only in a couple of blankets. I could see his ridiculously massive muscles bulging up beneath those blankets, and I couldn’t help wishing one of them would just fall off.

“Whoa, dude,” he said in his new thunderous base, “You got a little bigger.”

“You noticed?” I said, secretly overjoyed.

“You’ve been using the blue shit, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Just a little,” I said. “I couldn’t resist.”

“How come you’re still so fucking small?” He said flexing his beyond massive, ripped up, vein covered bicep and letting the upper blanket fall open, giving me a full, unobstructed view of those massive, striated, basketball-sized pecs and that cinderblock wall of abs, which he proceeded to clench and unclench. Fuck.

I thought about explaining the real reason I wanted to take it slow, but decided it would just be easier to give him a simple explanation he could easily understand. “Because then none of my clothes would fit and I’d have to walk around dressed only in blankets. You’re not going to school like that, are you?”

“Nah,” he said. “My mom won’t let me. She won’t let anyone even see me. She only let me answer the door this time because it was you.”

I thought about mentioning the fact with his size he really didn’t need to let anyone tell him what to do. He could probably do whatever the fuck he wanted, but I decided against it. Big or small, it was obvious his mom still ruled him.

“She’s not planning on keeping you locked up forever, is she?” I asked.

“No, just til the doctors see me.”

“Doctors?”

“Yeah, she made me an appointment to see one or two… or seven.”

“Seven?”

“Dude, I don’t want to go. What if they cure me?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen. It’s not like you have the flu or anything.”

“But what if they do?”

“Dude, we’ve still got a whole barrel of that shit in my garage. If they cure you, we’ll just dose you up again.”

That seemed to satisfy him.

“Call me if the doctors find anything,” I said. Then I remembered. “Oh wait. You’re phone is still in the middle of Hampton Woods.”

“No, it’s not,” said Kurt, producing his phone from a fold in his blankets. “I got it back.”

“You went back to the woods?” I said.

“No, the EPA guy found it, along with my keys and my wallet. He dropped them by this morning.”

“What did he say? I mean if he found your phone, he also found your shredded clothes.”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let him see me. And he was trying to see me… really hard. But she doesn’t let anyone see me.”

Poor Kurt; I envied him and I felt bad for him all at the same time.

On my way to school I couldn’t help wondering about the EPA guy. What must he have thought when he found the remains of Kurt’s clothing. Whatever it was, I had a bad feeling I hadn’t heard the last of him.

And I was right. It was just after second period and I was walking to my next class when I spotted the EPA guy in the hall. He was off to one side talking to Jimmy! I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I could see Jimmy shaking his head and shrugging his huge shoulders a lot. For once I was glad he was keeping tight lipped about the swimming hole - that had to be what the EPA guy was after. Why else try to talk to Kurt and Jimmy. I wonder what he thought it was and why he was looking for it. Did he want to clean it up? That would be horrible. At all costs I had to keep him away from that place, not to mention the barrel of blue goop in my garage. I turned my head to the side as I passed Jimmy and him, hoping the EPA guy wouldn’t see or recognize me. Damn. This screwed everything up. I wondered if I should stop my experiments. I was really worried about it for about 5 minutes, but the temptation to create a bunch of muscled-up studs was too great. I decided I could probably go ahead as long as I was careful.

All day long I was just itching to give someone a swallow from that water bottle, but who? It had to be just right and done in such a way that it wouldn’t cause too much attention and I could enjoy the results.

By the time lunch time hit, I couldn’t wait anymore. I went to the cafeteria to find my first victim… err subject. I looked around at the throng. There was the geek table overburdened with laptops and glasses, and the jock table with the big, beefy football players in their letter jackets, there were the shop guys looking kind of scraggly in their flanel shirts and worn jeans.

Who should it be? Who should it be?

That’s when I spotted Bob Peterson in the lunch line. Of course! That was it! Bob was on the wrestling team. He wasn’t huge or anything. He was about 150 – but that was typical of our wrestling team. They did ok. They won a lot on points. But we didn’t have anyone competing in the heavier weight classes. Probably the main reason I never went to the matches. I think I weighed more than the biggest guy on the team… or I did. I could feel my face forming an evil grin. There might be at least one bigger guy after today.

“Hi, Bob,” I said sidling on up to him in the lunch line. I couldn’t help notice there was barely anything on his plate. “Going a little light on the chow, aren’t you? Don’t you have a match today?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking a little down, “and I think I’m going to weigh in a little heavy.”

I gave him a quick once-over. He didn’t look at all heavy to me. I mean he wasn’t tiny or anything, but heavy…? No way.
“That sounds like a good thing to me,” I said. “The bigger and stronger you are, the better, right?”

“Maybe if you’re a body builder like you,” he said. “But in wrestling it doesn’t exactly work that way.”

Whoa, he called me a bodybuilder. I guess that extra 10 pounds was really showing. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Yeah ? So how does it work?”

“The goal is to come in at the top of your weight class. Too light, and the other guy will have the weight advantage; too heavy and you’ll wind up in the bottom of the next weight class up, and that’s even worse.”

“Why is that worse?” I asked.

“When you come in over like that, it’s usually water weight. The other guy could have as much as 8 pounds on you and if he’s in good shape it won’t be water, it’ll be all muscle.”

“I see your problem,” I said, “and I think I can help.”

“You? How?” He said.

“Well,” I said, scratching my head to come up with a good line, “there’s this new sports drink… actually it’s more like a sports nutrition drink.”

“A nutrition drink?” he said. “I don’t have time for that, dude, the match is this afternoon.”

“This stuff works really, really fast,” I said.

Then he kind of looked at me sideways. “What is it, some kind of drug?”

“Well… no… I mean, not exactly.”

“Sorry, dude,” he said. “I’m not going to do that. It sounds way too much like cheating.”

“Seriously, dude?” I said. “One swallow’ll hook you up.”

“Nah,” he said. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t wanna mess with that stuff.”

“Ok,” I said, feeling a little awkward. Jeeze, I never guessed pumping guys up was going to be so difficult. Maybe I shouldn’t tell them before I give it to them. But would that be right? I mean I was positive they’d thank me afterwards. I know I would in their position. But should I?

I spent the rest of the day mulling over my little moral dilemma.

At the end of the day I found myself just outside the gym. I’d been thinking about that wresting match all day. I was determined. Bob was going to grow. I had my water bottle ready. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to do it. I stepped into the gym. The bleachers were set up and it looked like the teams were warming up. I spotted Bob’s mom and his little brother Brian in the stands and I took a seat nearby on the bottom row.

Bob’s mother was watching events with mild interest. Brian, even though he was wearing a pair of soccer shorts and a t shirt, was not exactly the athletic one in the family. He looked like he couldn’t care less. His attention was completely on his phone, where it appeared he was alternating between texting and playing Angry Birds.

The first few matches were ok. But they started with the lighter weight classes and I would really have rather seen some heavy weights. But Bob would be up before them and I had to remind myself that that was what I was really there for.

At long last Bob stepped up to the mat. I couldn’t help but notice that Bob’s opponent was noticeably larger than Bob. It looked like Bob’s worst fears had come true. Oh well, it would probably make things easier for me.

The two wrestlers assumed the neutral position, standing opposite each other.

“Brian, pay attention,” I heard Bob’s mom say behind me.

“Why should I?” said Brian. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Because, it’s your brother’s match,” said Bob’s mom.

“Who cares?” said Brian. “I hope he loses.”

“That’s enough of that,” said Brian’s mom. “You will watch him or there will be no TV or internet for a week.”

“Fine, whatever,” said Brian.

Then the match started. The two wrestlers came at each other. The bigger one grabbed Bob by the shoulders and pretty much forced him to the mat just with his arms. Damn, he was a lot stronger than Bob; that was clear. Bob was pretty agile, though and managed to slip out of his grasp. The two of them were grappling for position on the mat, but it was pretty clear Bob was doomed. In fact, the big guy was just on the point of pinning Bob when the period ended.

Bob staggered to the sidelines, had a quick word with his coach, and then moved toward the bench for his brief rest. But I caught his attention and gestured him over.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“I’m fucked,” he said.

“The guy’s at the top of your weight class, isn’t he?”

“Not exactly,” said Bob. “He’s at the top of his weight class, which is one weight class higher than mine.”

“Is that legal?” I asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” said Bob, “but apparently it is. He’s killing me.”

“Here,” I said, handing him my water bottle. “Take a swig of this. You look like you could use it.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle. He took a swig, swashed it around in his mouth then swallowed it. Then he looked at me strangely. “Wow,” he said. “Was that water?”

I didn’t have to answer because the second period was about to start and his coach called him back to the mat.

Thanks to a coin toss at the beginning of the meet, Bob had the defensive position. He got down on all fours and his opponent took the position standing above him. All things being equal, this didn’t look like it would last long… But all things weren’t equal, were they? I could feel my self grinning. Yes… yes… I thought I could see the stuff starting to work. Yes. I could definitely see it! Bob’s arms were getting thicker; his triceps were bulging out, forming pronounced, heavy horseshoes and his biceps were expanding, evolving into curved, bulky, vein covered masses. His shoulders were getting broader and growing into large striated, segmented muscle balls. Damn, under his singlet I saw his back swelling and shifting, his lats getting wider and denser. And his legs were increasing in size, gaining inch after inch of ripped, solid mass.

Fuck, he was a beast.

“Mom, did you see that?” gasped Brian from behind me.

“See what?”

“Bob just grew! He just got huge!”

“Well, he’s been working very hard,” said Bob’s mother.

“No, I don’t mean that,” said Brian. “He just got huge now, like right now, like right there on the mat!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Bob’s mom. “People don’t grow instantaneously. He’s been getting larger for a while now. You just haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, right, whatever,” said Brian.

If Bob’s opponent noticed anything he didn’t let on, and when the period started he just went at Bob like he expected him to be easy to throw down. But he couldn’t budge Bob, not even an inch, not that he didn’t try. He tried move after move, but nothing would shift Bob, nothing. And Bob was just down on all fours chuckling away.

And suddenly Bob just stood up. His opponent tried to stop him, but he couldn’t, and suddenly he noticed why. Bob was fucking huge. Fuck, everyone could see now. Besides his large arms, shoulders and wide, powerful back, his pecs had become big, full mounds of muscle with striations you could see, even through his singlet. Same with his abs, they were a collection of deep cuts and bulges pushing out through the Lycra. Bob was beastly all around.

His opponent looked a little shocked. Bob glared at him, let out a little growl and then, seemingly effortlessly, lifted his opponent off the floor and threw him to the ground in one swift, powerful movement. His opponent fell on his back and in a second Bob was on him for the pin.

As soon as the whistle blew, Bob was up on his feet, stomping around the mat, flexing his impressive bulging, vein covered biceps at the spectators and shouting, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”


There was a bit of a commotion as the visiting team was accusing us of substituting wrestlers in between periods. The coach was obviously confused by Bob’s sudden increase in size, but he still managed to argue that there had been no substitution.

During the controversy, Bob came over to me and said, “What the fuck, dude?” and he pointed to his newly enhanced bulging bicep. “What was in that bottle?”

“Meet me in the weight room after the match,” I said. I guessed I owed him an explanation.

Both wrestlers had to be reweighed but it was decided there had been some confusion at the initial weigh in. Bob had gone from the bottom or the weight class below his opponent to the top of the weight class above. So, the match was still legal and Bob’s victory was upheld.

When Bob met me in the weight room afterwards, I gave him the condensed version of the story. I had discovered a new muscle building supplement that worked instantly and I was trying it out on certain carefully selected friends. But it was a complete secret and he couldn’t tell anyone.

“Wow,” said Bob feeling his arm. “That’s what one swallow will do?”

“Yup,” I said offering the small bottle. He took it from me and looked it over carefully. Of course there wasn’t any label on it or anything. Finally he unscrewed the cap and sniffed it.

“It doesn’t smell like anything.”

“Nope.” I said.

“I don’t suppose I could have another swallow?” he asked tentatively.

Suddenly a small figure darted out of the shadows and grabbed the bottle from Bob’s hand.

“What the…?” we said simultaneously. It was Bob’s little brother, Brian.

“Give that back, maggot!” called Bob.

“No way,” he said shaking his head. Bob lunged for him, but Brian dodged him and ran around the other side of the bench.

“Give that back,” yelled Bob, “or I’ll pound your head so far down, you’ll have to unzip your fly to eat!”

“Fuck that!” said Brian. “You think I want you any bigger? I’m tired of being your punching bag!”

“Dude, when I catch you, I’m gonna hurt you so bad, your pain’ll have pain,” said Bob.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that! My turn to be the big brother!” And suddenly he was chugging the bottle.

“No! Wait!” I cried. I sprang to grab the bottle away from him but it was way too late. He finished it and stood there grinning at us.

“Oh my God, what’s going to happen?” said Bob looking at me.

“What’s going to happen?” laughed Brian. “What’s going to happen is I’m going to get fucking huge! And it’s going to happen right here, right now, right in front of you. Are you ready for that, you fucking douche? ’Cause I sure as hell am!”

“Is he?” Bob, asked me, his voice cracking.

“Bob…,” I said. “Drinking that much… forget huge, think fucking massive…”

“Oh yeah!” said Brian. “I like the sound of that.” He grinned. “Whoa,” he said, his voice a little deeper. “I can feel it happening, bro! You are going to be so fucking sorry you were ever born!”

I head this strange kind of crackling, popping noise and as I looked I thought I could see his calves swelling out a little… no they were definitely getting bigger. And the short light hairs on his legs had started getting longer, thicker and darker.

“Oh yeah,” said Brian. “Things are definitely changing.” He flexed his arms, but there was really nothing there. But then, as we watched, two hard-looking, golf ball sized biceps bulged up on his thin arms.

Bob started laughing, but the laughter died on his lips when suddenly Brian’s biceps doubled in size! Fuck, they just instantly morphed into two huge, cut baseball sized boulders bulging out of his upper arms.

“Oh fuckin Ay!” he said. “Check out these guns! Already big enough to fuck you up!” Then I saw his ankles thicken – no it wasn’t just his ankles, both his feet were getting wider and broader and in an instant I heard a thick tearing sound and a thousand threads breaking, as his growing feet split apart his sneakers and tore his ankle socks into threads. Man, his feet were mammoth.

“I’ve got big feet now, bro, bigger than yours! Giant feet! Muscle feet!” Jeeze, he was right. I’d never seen musclar feet before, but his… damn.

“And my legs,” he continued, “my legs feel… fan-fucking-tastic!” Then, as I watched, his gym shorts, which seconds before had been loose and hanging to his calves, rode up above his knees as his legs grew longer. His thighs appeared to be a single slight bulge of muscle. But now I could see that slight bulge was getting larger and wider. Muscle fibers were becoming visible, pronounced, and beginning to push up and out from beneath the skin, increasing in size. Fuck. And his thigh wasn’t just one bulge anymore. I could see the different muscles separating out and taking shape as they kept getting bigger and bigger. Oh man, the sight was overwhelming; his legs kept getting thicker and stretching up longer, bulging up with new powerful muscles!

“Hahaha!” he laughed. “My legs make yours look puny, bro!”

I shot a quick look at Bob. Fuck, he was right. Damn, Brian’s quads were enormous! And cut!

“AH! AH! AHHHHHHHHHHH!” he shouted as his shirt rode up exposing abs that were swelling into cobblestones. His upper torso kept stretching wider and wider pulling his shirt tighter and tighter across pecs that were emerging, striated globes of muscle. “Fuck,” he said. “It feels like my body’s bulging up stone. It feels awesome!” His shirt formed stress creases seconds before I heard the RIIIP RIIIIP RIIIIP of gaps opening up all over it, giving me a peek at the bulging mounds and huge flexing ridges of sinew beneath. He looked at me, grinned and flexed both arms. His biceps erupted with size, easily 18 inches of powerful, bulging sinew, and growing! “Fuck yeah!” he shouted. “What do you think of that bro?”

I watched as his sleeves slid off those large, boulder-like mounds and bunched up below his ballooning shoulders. His arms were huge, bigger than mine, bigger than Bob’s. Fuck.

“I’m gonna get so fucking jacked! AH AH AHHHHHHH FUCK!”

And suddenly he exploded upward, gaining several inches in height in an instant!

“Fuck yeah!” he shouted, his voice deepening further. “Getting fucking huge!” He grinned down at us. “Thinking about running yet, bro? You should be.”

Fuck he wasn’t huge, he was gigantic! He was towering over both of us, at least a foot! How much fucking taller was he going to get? So fucking wide and bulging out all over! And he was still growing!

His t-shirt, now drum-tight and covered with tears, was rising up to the bottom of his ribcage, his now boulder-like abs were swelling and pushing out of his stomach.

He pulled a side bicep flex and holy crap! His arm was mountainous! His sleeve didn’t stand a chance. As soon as he flexed that thing there was a POP, POP SNAP and it just exploded into shreds. Now there was nothing to obscure those bulbous boulders of sinew as they erupted out of his arm, a least 20 fucking inches of raw, bulging, vein ridden power – and still growing!

“Hey there, maggot,” he said to Bob, grinning from ear to ear. “You want to discuss who’s the big brother now?”

He turned toward Bob and pulled a most muscular and that was it for his shirt. POP, POP SNAP RIP RIIIIIIIP and it was fluttering to the floor, revealing his now gigantic muscle-ridden torso in all it’s glory. Huge striated pecs, a mountain range of abs, a neck thick as a fire hydrant, mountainous traps, shoulders at least 4 feet wide and ending in bowling ball delts.

“Or maybe we should wrestle for it!” he screamed. “You wanna wrestle, Bob?”

He let out a YELL, kind of a combination ROAR/GROWL as his shorts were torn apart by his monstrous expanding quads,. Fuck, just one of his quads had to weigh more than I did. Now he was standing there immense and naked. And he kept getting bigger and wider and taller.

“AH HA HA HA!” he roared. “Look at me fucking now, bro!!!!!”

It was hard not to. Fuck, muscles just kept erupting out of him, growing, swelling developing deep striations. He had to be nearly 7 feet tall! Each pec became the size of a basketball and his biceps were just as big. Each of his abs grew to be the size of my fist! And his legs just defied description with their massive intertwining heads, each one incredibly thick, cut and defined under his paper thin skin.

By the time he stopped he was massive, an almost floor to ceiling, almost wall to wall massive muscle giant. A steer would be smaller – and probably weigh less, too! Jeeze, the heat he was giving off… he was making the room hot just with his body temperature. He was so big he had his own gravitational pull. I could feel myself being pulled toward him—although that might not have been gravity.

And the steer’s tail? Well he had that hanging between his legs.

He then began a flexing session where he flexed and felt every muscle he could reach. And there were plenty of them, all gigantic beyond belief. Fuck, you could tell he was loving every minute of it.

I’m fucking massive!” he cried, “fucking massive! And my body’s like stone. Every fucking inch is massive stone-like muscles. I’m a total fucking beast!” And he went on like that for several minutes.

“Ok, bro,” he said, glaring down at Bob, after he finished. “It’s payback time. Now I’m going to pound you so hard, you’re gonna havta open your zipper to eat! …except I think I can actually do it!” He flexed his monstrous, peeked, vein ridden biceps, looked at them bulging to outrageous dimensions, and laughed.

And then Bob did the only thing he really could do. He turned and ran for his life. But Brian didn’t waste a second before he took off after him. Damn that kid could move pretty fast for being so massive! I hoped Bob got away ok.

I didn’t start gathering my thoughts until I got home that night. Was my first day of experiments a success or not? I’d managed to buff up one jock. That was good. But I also accidentally created another muscle beast. That was not so good. I guessed I could claim partial success, ok, mostly success. Actually, the more I thought of it, muscle beasts were not a bad thing. I planned to be one myself someday. In fact, muscle beasts were pretty awesome. Therefore, my experiments were a complete success!

On to day two!

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