Make Sure You Take Your Medicine
by Londonboy
Dave looked at the large pile of ground-up pills on the table in front of him. He had taken the contents of every container of medicine in the bathroom cabinet and crushed them together. He had not cared if the expiration date had passed or if there was a warning label that strictly forbids mixing the contents with any other medicine. Dave was 55 years old and he was tired. He was tired of living with a sickness that the doctors called the “disease with no name.” The best explanation the so called experts could give was that his illness had something to do with the chemical plant he had worked at for most of his adult life. That wasn’t much help. The only thing Dave really knew was that his entire body was turning into something that resembled a soggy string of spaghetti. He was slowly losing all of his muscle tone, not that there had been a lot to begin with, but he was already confined to a wheelchair. His legs were no longer strong enough to hold his skinny body in an standing position. He knew that his arms would go next, then his neck and then the rest of him. This is something that he did not want to experience, so he had decided to end the journey today.
Dave had forced himself to get out of bed, shower, shave, make some coffee, and then he created the concoction that now sat in front of him like a mountain of multi-colored sand. Dave knew that he would never make it through all of the medicine on the table; he would be gone before most of it was touched. He chose his large aluminum travel mug for his morning coffee because it would hold more and last until he had swallowed enough of the stuff to kill him. He began to wonder how it would end. Would the pile of drugs in front of him make him fall asleep and then he would die, or would his body just shut down quickly because of the mixture. He glanced back at the note he had written to his friends – making sure to explain to Joe and Don why he had made this choice. Two of his co-workers, Joe Campos and Don Bloodyoung, were suffering from the same disease. They had created a support group two years ago to help each other through the trauma of slowly losing control of your own body. Dave was mostly sorry because he was letting those two friends down. He knew, though, that they would understand the most. He pushed the note to the side of the table and pulled his coffee mug nearer. Dave then picked up the tablespoon and slid it into the mound of crushed pills. He thought of an old Disney song, but changed the words. Just a mug full of coffee helps the medicine go down. This thought made him laugh. Where in the hell was that magical nanny when you needed her.
Dave was amazed at how sweet the mixture tasted. He might not need the coffee. That’s when the swallowed grainy stuff hit his empty stomach and caused him to double over onto the table in pain. It came out of nowhere – this intense aching in his stomach. Dave was determined, though. He forced himself to sit up, took a sip of coffee through gritted teeth, and then brought a second spoonful to his mouth. It took all of his puny strength to get the next dose of medicine down his throat. This time the pain in his stomach was so strong that Dave dropped the spoon and, again, his upper body was forced to the top of the kitchen table. That’s when his body turned to ice. Dave had never felt coldness like this before. He assumed this was the first part of dying and he tried desperately to push his body up so he could take another spoonful of medicine, but he could not move any part of himself at all. It was like he was some kind of huge chunk of frozen waste. Dave allowed himself to stop struggling. He told himself to not fight the oncoming darkness. He knew he was ready to stop the pain that his disease had brought. He was suddenly filled with peace and was able to notice odd things about his body.
Dave first noticed that his breathing was almost non-existent. He could not register any air coming in or out of his mouth. He did not feel his heart beating. Dave expected that his soul, or whatever gave him life, would soon separate from his body and float into the air. As soon as this thought entered his mind, though, he knew he had watched the movie “Ghost” too many times. He realized he had absolutely no idea what the end would be like and he forced his mind to go blank. He wanted to be totally present for his last few minutes on earth. Dave’s head was resting on the table. He took the time to notice that his hand was still wrapped around his aluminum travel mug. He remembered getting the mug a few years back when he decided to take a road trip up and down the east coast with his lover at the time. They had bought matching mugs in order to be able to stop each morning before they took off in their convertible and fill up with java. It was weird that Dave would think of that trip now. That relationship had broken his heart when it ended. It was the only time in his life that he had dated a guy totally ripped and built like a well-toned linebacker. Those two weeks of making love in a different hotel each night and groping the guy’s beefy body as they drove down tree-covered roads in Connecticut, Maine, New York and other states had been magical. There was no way Dave could have known the guy just wanted a free vacation and saw the gullible older man he met in a bar as the perfect ticket. Dave was shocked that he couldn’t remember the guy’s name at the moment – especially since he had been ‘the one.’ Dave wanted to laugh at the irony of that moment, but couldn’t even force his frozen body to chuckle slightly. That’s when something caught Dave’s attention.
Dave noticed movement in the cloth of his shirt at his shoulder. At first Dave thought it was just a breeze, but then he remembered he had closed all doors and windows to make his demise totally private. He stared at the fabric as it moved. He had put on one of his favorite flannel shirts because there had been a slight chill in the October air that morning. Suddenly, Dave was frustrated because he couldn’t move to get a better look at what was happening to his shirt. The good thing was that his eyes were frozen open, so he could at least stare at what was going on. It took a few seconds but Dave finally figured out that his shirt was pulsing in and out like it was alive and breathing. With each pulse it seemed to puff out further. The shirt was stretched tighter and tighter each time. It slowly registered to Dave that it wasn’t the shirt that was expanding and then contracting – it was his shoulder. His shoulder was bulging in and out like it was being blown up by a bicycle pump. Dave immediately figured the mixture of medicine was either affecting his eyesight or causing his body to bloat up.
Dave was still unable to move so he simply stared at the shirt. On about the eighth pulse of his shoulder the seams where the fabric met began to tear. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but then the silence of the room was filled with the sound of stitching being forced apart. Finally his shoulder burst through the fabric and he watched as pieces of cloth and threads fell to the table. It was like when children poke their finger through paper, but the massive shoulder he now saw was definitely not a child’s. His mind still thought everything that was happening was a precursor to his death, but then it became obvious that the sound of other fabric tearing was filling the room. He looked passed his shoulder to his arm. Dave’s glance was just in time to see his watch be forced from the wristband and go shooting into the air across the room. The leather band fell to the table in several pieces. He looked at the wrist and saw that it was pulsing in the same fashion as his shoulder. The entire sleeve of his shirt split at that moment and slid down what looked like a large man’s leg, but he realized it was his arm. His body was still completely frozen so the gasp of shock that tried to escape didn’t come. He could make no noise at that moment. Dave stared at his right biceps and forearm as they grew to match the now super-sized shoulder. The huge pulsing arm on the table seemed so foreign to him. He could not comprehend that it was connected to his body in any way. It seemed as if Dave were looking at some huge roman statue at a museum. That’s when the top of the travel mug shot into the air like a rocket and coffee gushed out of the opening. The cap made a loud noise as it hit the ceiling. Dave glanced at what was now a beefy hand and saw that the travel mug was compressed to something that resembled an empty tube of toothpaste. As his hand grew to match the arm, it easily crushed the hefty aluminum cup as if it were nothing.
At that point Dave realized his head was no longer resting on the table, even though his neck was still stiff as a board. Something was causing his head to be in mid-air. He couldn’t turn his head to look down, but Dave knew his chest had grown so much that it had pushed his entire upper body away from the top of the table. He somehow knew his pectoral muscles had ballooned like his arm and shoulder. He also felt his hardened nipples pressing his body even higher off the table. His nips were strong enough to hold up his entire upper body. These thoughts made Dave’s mind wander off into lust-ville, again. He imagined having nipples so tough that another guy could grab one of them with a pair of pliers, twist it hard, and still not be able to cause any pain. He could tell that his daydreaming was causing a myriad of juices to flow quickly through his body. He egged himself on by picturing jumper cables attached to his protruding stubs of mouthwatering man-meat and connecting the other ends to the battery of a semi-truck. Yeah, it’s great to know that your chest is tough enough to take that kind of jolt and the only effect it has on you is turning you on a little bit more. Or how about attaching some huge vice-clamps to your bulging cork-sized muscled dark aureoles and having a crane lift you into the air; dangling there supported only by the strength of your erect nipples. All of this fantasizing made Dave desperate to look at his chest and to grab those pecs hard, squeezing large amounts of juice from his mammoth man-nubs.
From the feeling of cool air across his entire back, Dave became aware that his growth had shredded his favorite shirt and not an inch of fabric remained on his body. Even from his still frozen position he could tell that his upper body now matched the width of his oak kitchen table. A wave of panic came over Dave as he became nervous that the table might not be able to support his growing body. What would happen if he suddenly went crashing to the floor? If he was unable to move, how could he get help? And to make things worse, he really liked this table. He didn’t want it to be destroyed. Dave was sure his nipples had already caused dents in the sturdy wood, but he didn’t want to see the table end up as a pile of splinters. Having to buy a new table would be such a burden.
This last thought made Dave’s crazy brain activity come to a screeching halt. If minds were able to make noise he was sure it would have sounded like a speeding car coming to an immediate stop. He realized, for the first time, that he wasn’t dying. Instinctively, Dave knew he would not be leaving this world today. He also felt something internally that he had not sensed for a long time. His body was healthy. No, his body was more than that - it was fucking incredible. He was turning into the Incredible Hulk minus the green skin and the pissed off attitude. The monstrous shoulder and arm he could see was just the tip of the iceberg compared to what he knew was the massive body attached. Dave tried hard to turn his head or move his arm, but he was still completely frozen. A scary thought shot through his mind. Was he in a coma? Was he really dying and all of this was made up in his mind as he neared the end? Or worse than all of those things, what if he grew freaking huge but was never able to move again? Oh hell, what if he became some muscled superman, but was paralyzed forever? Could there be a worse punishment than that? Dave wanted to scream loudly, but no sound could be formed. He knew his body was bigger than any pro bodybuilder, but he couldn’t flex one muscle.
That’s when the sound of more fabric ripping, mixed with something that resembled metal screeching, brought Dave back to the present moment. He calmed his anxiety and tried to focus on what was happening. If he had been able to move his mouth, Dave would have smiled broadly. Knowing what was causing the sounds brought him much joy. Dave’s legs were blowing up to insane proportions to match the rest of his body. His jeans were probably being shredded as if they were tissue paper. Oh, God, to see those muscled legs popping through tears in denim would be one of the greatest sights in the world. That sight would be second only to what Dave knew his thighs were accomplishing at the same time they freed themselves from his pants. As his quads grew wider they were forcing the arms of the wheelchair outward. The metal was being expanded to make room for what he knew were enormous muscled legs. Damn, the sound of metal being molded by human muscle was like hearing a symphony for the first time. Dave started to become more frustrated because he couldn’t watch his ballooning upper legs demolish something that is supposedly stronger than man. Dave had always been immensely turned on by fatasies of a guy being so muscled he could destroy or crush things that are considered indestructible. Hercules causing stones to crumble with just his fingers, Superman bending steel girders as if it were licorice, the Incredible Hulk punching through brick walls easily, and, his all-time favorite, a fucking beefed-up bodybuilder taking a fifty-pound plate and folding it in on itself like it was cardboard. But the muscle-gods in the sky were not smiling on Dave today. He was unable to watch his own body bend metal just by growing. He couldn’t even imagine what he would be able to do if he could put those growing muscles through some strength tests. What he would have given to be able to move just his head at that moment. That’s when he heard the arms of the chair break completely and fall to the floor. Dave’s legs had snapped the metal arms off and he wasn’t even flexing them. Finally, he could tell his legs has ceased growing and he knew there was very little fabric left anywhere on his body. He had realized a while ago that his socks and tennis shoes had exploded because of his growing feet.
His thoughts stayed on his monster feet for a while. For some reason he desperately wanted to see their new size. Dave had never before thought this particular part of a man’s body was sexy, but the idea that his former smaller-sized feet had now become something that would make a shoe salesperson quake in fear brought him much joy. He was sure that the device they used to measure a person’s foot would be dwarfed by the bottom of his colossal boat. Dave let his mind wander to the feats of strength he could perform with powerful legs and titanic feet. Certainly no door would be able to withstand one swift kick of his powerful oaks. He was also pretty sure that a jump from the roof of a five-story building wouldn’t damage him in any way, but that it would certainly destroy a few yards of concrete from where he landed. These thoughts got Dave excited about what he could do with his powerful quads – from squeezing open the door of an iron safe to shattering three bowling balls at the same time by bringing his legs together. He was also sure that his quads would be able to press an entire house into the air if there were a way to navigate that feat. Dave’s daydreaming about his legs and gigantic feet almost caused him to miss the fact that one of his toes moved slightly. He had been imagining what it would be like to leave imprints of his feet in asphalt just by pressing hard with his toes when suddenly the smallest one on his right foot bent forward. It was almost imperceptible, but when you’ve been unable to move at all for a period of time your body registers even the simplest accomplishment.
Dave’s heart immediately sprung back to life. Suddenly, he could feel his internal organs working again. Not only did he register his heartbeat, but he also realized his lungs were filling with air. He still couldn’t move his body, but warmth was beginning to creep back to his insides. It began with his toes. Dave could only compare this feeling to what it must be like for a newborn baby to realize the things waving in front of their face are their own hands – if only a baby was conscious enough to understand and remember forever what that felt like. Dave had never been so aware of his ten toes. After what seemed like eternity, he was able to wiggle them separately or together. He had no idea whether this miracle was going to continue up the rest of his body, but the excitement that came from just moving his toes was tremendous. Somehow, Dave registered that his newly huge toes were fucking powerful. He didn’t have to do anything to prove it; it was just something his body registered. He flexed his toes and could tell by the way they moved that there was much more muscle mass down there than before. He could tell that muscle between the toes forced them to be spread apart and this caused him to be more excited. That’s when he was able to bend his feet at his ankles. You would have thought Dave had just brought about world peace from the feeling that came with moving his ankles. This act made Dave realize that the warmth and movement ability was creeping up his legs. He knew now that, at some point, he would be able to move his entire fucking incredibly muscled body. He was going to be able to see how huge he had become, but, more importantly, he was going to be able to see what his new muscles could do! Dave immediately became impatient and frustrated.
To be continued