The Changing Room

"You pathetic little creep!"

"Ugh!" I'm suddenly hit with an extremely large fist that is backed by a very big, built, and powerful arm. The blow hits me square in the jaw, which threatens to become "glass" as they say, because I'm down on the ground and seeing stars, spots, and shapes like ink blots, obscuring and completely taking over my vision. I just barely manage to hang on to consciousness.

"You just had to come to my school, didn't you? Couldn't leave me alone, could you? Or is it you just couldn't have a complete life without being belittled by me? Gentlemen, meet, Randy Poe, a name you will never take notice of because it belongs to one of the biggest, oxymoron statement here, puny milksops there ever was. He is proof that smaller, weaker men just feel the need to be subjugated by their superiors!"

The man going off on this oh so incorrect soliloquy, while beating me at the same time, is Derrick "Rick" Armstrong. His surname was Halliwell, but as soon as he turned eighteen years old, much to the surprise and dismay of his family he went and had it legally changed to something he thought more befitting his physical prowess and stature. Since graduating high school and the name change, he's not spoken to nor acknowledged his parents since. Let's you know how big of an arrogant douche bag he is.
He is the perfect example of the stereotype of a roid bloated and mentally infected, muscle bound, dumb jock. Six feet six inches tall in his bare, sized U.S. Men's 16 DD feet. pushing close to 280lbs of solid muscle and looking to add more and more. He also has extremely good looks too: long, thin nose above large, pillow like lips, and high model-esque cheek bones on each side, prominent, but not overly so chin with the slightest hint of a clef. Deep, dark, rich, earthy brown eyes on his face that was framed by the thickest mane of chestnut hair with natural, golden-honey, colored highlights. He was captain of the football, basketball, baseball, and soccer teams in high school, and those were the only subjects, other than lunch, that he excelled at. He could have made top grades, but he didn't care to do the work, his focus being completely on sports. He wasn't dumb by nature, he simply chose to be.
He also chose me to be his enemy. It happened my freshman year in high school. One day, shortly into the year, as I was travelling the hallways, heading to my next class, I was paying attention more to one of the lessons in my books as opposed to navigating the hallways and I walked right in front of him. One would think he would notice me and stop, but I was, and still am, a man of rather diminutive size. I'm five foot six inches tall now, about a hundred and twenty pounds on a good day, but at the start of my years in high school I was four feet ten inches tall, while Rick had already had his growth spurt the summer before, an early bloomer, and so was nearly two feet taller than me at the time. I caused him to trip over me, sending him to the floor which embarrassed him and pissed him off, and that began four years of teasing and abuse.

The abuse reached a barbaric, frenzied point our senior year, which is what led to the situation we're in now. Rick received many offers for athletic scholarships, but public tide on proper education was swelling high and hard against colleges and universities, and while thinking he had the scholarships in the bag due to his athletic prowess, Rick let his senior grades slip to just above passing, resulting in the universities requiring him to attend two years at a community college. He had to show he could achieve decent grades before coming to the university and using a scholarship. He blamed all of this on me. The funny thing is, his constant beatings resulted in my grades dropping, and thus being placed in the same situation I had to attend a community college and prove my grades before I could take on scholarships.

I wish I could have sought help back then, but I had no one whom to turn to and seek assistance. My family lineage apparently never had strong physical constitutions; both sets of grandparents were gone by the time I was six, and were strong enough to only produce one offspring. No aunts, uncles, or cousins. During her pregnancy with me, my mother became very weak. She never seemed to regain any energy after my birth; she passed away when I was three. Dad managed to hold on from a broken heart until my junior year in high school. By Christmas of that year, I was an orphan, then in the February following declared an emancipated minor, and on my own. When the attacks became more severe from Rick I had no one to report it to and to help support me. The high school administration almost never caught him in the act, and of course due to his outstanding athleticism on the field, wanted to keep him in school and on the teams because of the revenue it generated. Police never caught him in the act and until they did so, it was always word against word kind of thing, neither one of us having enough of the other's DNA to prove foul deeds.

I thought I had chosen the community college Rick would least likely attend, but I miscalculated in my theory, as I forgot his breaking away from his parents and having moved to the other side of town. Without thinking I had staggered up from off the alley only to be punched on the other side of the jaw and sent back down again.

"When are you going to learn it ends quicker when you stay down. You don't get to leave until I'm done. You don't get to escape..."


His large foot, encompassed in a larger shoe struck me right in the ribs, hard enough I think, to have broken one. I raised my head and gave it a flick to toss my very thin and dull grayish-brown hair out of the way of my equal dull, hazel colored eyes. Except for needing to color my hair and eyes, I've been told I have an angelic face, and with a little meat on my bones, and a taller stature could have been a very successful model. Although, I don't know how anyone ever saw what I really looked like what with all the bumps, cuts, and bruises I received from Rick all these years. But with that kick, plus the blows he was continually landing on me currently, I could tell today was different. Rick was in a rage and he might not stop until it was too late. ... ... ... I couldn't have that.
During the course of this beating, he stood me up and pulled my underwear up in so high of a wedgie I think my balls travelled back up into my body. He then made fun of my generic and second hand jeans, ripping the back pockets off with such force it torn the denim all the way down to my knees, exposing my butt and its crack stuffed with my wedged underwear. He then ripped the sleeves off my shirt to show I had no arm muscles, and then he grabbed my collar and ripped it open to show lack of, if not a inverted, concaved chest. WHAM! One more blow to the jaw and down I went again. I had to try and escape. I had to do something.

Seeing Rick raise his foot once again to kick me, I grabbed a loose trash can lid and rolled it towards him. He saw it coming mid swing and tried to pull his foot back, getting it caught up in the lid and pulling it in between his legs. This caused him to trip and to fall, and I scooted the trash can right in the path of his head. WHAM! His chin caught the edge, causing the can to tilt, and on his way down to the street, head caused the can to continue to tip, then flip, the other side's edge clipping him in the back of the head. His minions stood still in complete shock at what happened. I don't where I found the strength to get up, or to run as fast as my short legs would carry me, but I did. I ran for the end of the alley, but in my bruised condition, turned wrong and ran for the wrong end of this side alley which exited onto the back alley way. I needed to exit onto the public street so folks could see the victim.

I suddenly heard a large guttural kind of growl, and I knew Rick was up and chasing me down. It wouldn't take long for him to catch up. I turned down the back alley and tried to run as fast as I could looking for any place I could duck and hide. Suddenly a back door opened and I was grabbed by the collar.

"Oh my stars, get in here, you!"

I had forgotten where I was headed, and thus which alley I was in. The man who pulled me inside was Chad, the owner of the second hand thrift store where I worked. He sat me down in a chair and went to pull the door completely shut, but Rick was there and grabbed a hold of the door. Chad grabbed the emergency bar and tried to get it shut. Rick not thinking, figured it was me pulling on the door and therefore didn't use all his strength. It was a tug of war for a while until Rick placed his foot between the door and the door frame and loudly announced he was coming in whether I wanted him to or not.

As Rick turned his body to look through the space, Chad looked up at him and said, "Wow, someone needs a shot of estrogen. Take a Midol, you bitch, before you have an aneurism."

Now Rick would've normally pulled that door open, sending Chad flying and then beat the crap out of him, but since Rick's focus was on Chad's face, he didn't notice that Chad had grabbed a couple of kitchen knives out of a kitchen knife block on the shelves just inside the door. Within two seconds, both knives where stuck into Rick's shoe.


With his screams and his knee, and elbow, jerk reaction, Rick pulled his foot and hands away from the door and Chad shut it up tight. Rick began to pound on the door left and right, up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs. Chad ignored him and walked over to me.

"Chad, you better call the cops and then have us leave. He'll be through that door any minute."

"Oh, are you kidding me? Not with what I paid for that door. Honey, with the amount of crime in this neighborhood, don't you think I properly fortified this place against burglary? The entire back wall of this building is now bunker style cement block, with a faux brick parquet on top to help it blend in to the historical structure. The frame and the door is completely made of steel. Totally against the city code and law, I know, but then, without any crime to report, no reason to call them and have them notice is there? It would take the Incredible Hulk, plus the Almighty Thor to get through that locked door, and if that ever happens, I hope to Gawd I am there, laid out in my best, a hapless, helpless damsel in distress!"

"Chad! Rick is brute of a jock, but he's not dumb. It won't take him long to figure out which store front is connected to this back. I can't work today, not in this condition, he's going to come in here and destroy your place and you. We need to leave and we need to leave now!"

"Oooh, well, listen to the itty bitty, just a bit bitchy, kitty pity committee. You need some cat nip to chill, darlin'."

"I'm serious, we need to see if the back alley is clear and make a run for it, cause he's going to come through the front door any time now."

"No, what we need to do is get you some salve.... and some new clothes. Oh, honey, you've always needed a wardrobe makeover."

"But, Chad!"

"Now, hush. Listen to me and just do as I say. You think I don't know what's going on and need to be taught, but, honey, I've been there, rode the ride, ate the food, bought the t-shirt, and shown the home movies and pictures on pintrest. You ain't showin' nothing but reruns to me, okay? Now, you come with me."

Chad grabbed me by the wrist and proceeded to pull me through clothing section of his second hand shop. I kept glancing towards the front door, knowing some point in time I would see the looming figure of Rick come striding through it, and knowing that the rent-a-cop at the front door as strong of a man as he looked, was no match for Rick and wouldn't keep him busy for long. Luckily it seemed to be taking Rick a bit longer to figure out the store front than I thought.

Chad stopped in the section with athletic gear first and pulled out a pair of stretchy, tight, running shorts. Then he went to the pants and shorts department and pulled out a pretty large pair of rave/cargo pants, and a pair of very long basketball shorts. Next we stopped off in the shirt department where he grabbed this muscle tank top that looked like it was made from a patchwork quilt, and then we raced to the shoes where he pulled down the largest shoes, a pair of sandals, I have ever seen in my life. Chad placed all these items in a bag and was busy writing something down, when I disrupted his train of thought by letting out a small gasp.

It was Rick. He hadn't come into the building yet, in fact he was walking right past the shop's front window and going on, but I saw his back pause and I was pretty sure, although he couldn't see me due to the clothes racks, he had noticed Chad. Chad quickly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me down as he crouched lower than the racks himself.

"Come on, follow me this way...."

We didn't hear Rick come in, so he must have figured he hadn't seen Chad and continued to walk on. Moving through the maze of clothes racks, we finally made our way towards the back side of the store front where the changing rooms were located. We crawled into the hallway of changing room doors and then stood up.

"Chad, what are you doing? What are we doing in here? This is a complete dead end and it will be an actual dead end if Rick finds us in here."

"Oh, no room for the choir tonight, folks; we're over run with the unfaithful and the pastor needs to preach! Would you just trust me. Get in this changing room, take these clothes, put them on, and put them on in the order I've written down on the list."

"But why did you pick this mishmash of miss-matched items for me? And where did you get them? I've never seen these before in the store's inventory."

"Oh, did Noah ask for a Hawaiian island when he saw the first bit of land after forty days and nights of rain? Did Lazarus ask for a the body of Antonio Sabado, Jr. when he was raised from the dead? Don't look the gift horse of a different color in the mouth, honey, just get on the thing and ride it! Take the miracle you're given and work it!"

"But wait this isn't a changing room, it's the A/C and Heater room."

"Randy, sometimes you gotta walk through the vague before you get to the vogue."

Chad opened the door and shoved me through. Falling backwards, I placed my hands out expecting to grab a hold of the side of the air conditioner and heating unit for the store. Instead, I found the back of the wall and landed on a bench seat. The room was a changing room, including a wall of hooks on one side wall, which the bench seat continued to run under, and a full length and width wide mirror on the opposite side wall. I knew this shouldn't be here. There weren't that many changing rooms in the store and I couldn't have miscounted the number of doors as we crawled and then walked down the hallway.

Trying the door, I found it locked, and so I knocked and pounded on the door, calling out for Chad or anyone to let me out. ... ... ... no answer. Fearing I would be trapped in here for a brutal beating from Rick, I decided to take off my torn clothing and put on the clothes given to me by Chad. Might as well have clothes that are whole, on, as they might soften the blows from Rick for a time. I took of my shirt as I wasn't strong enough to rip it the rest of the way apart. I unbuttoned my pants and let them drop to the floor and kicked them away. I had previously kicked off my shoes too, even though the new holes in my pants allowed them to slip over the shoes if I had kept them on. I then winced in pain as I tugged and pulled my underwear out of my butt crack, and released my balls and cock from being squished in front, not that there was a lot there to squish.

Standing there nude for a moment to allow my balls and cock to breathe and feel comfortably free again, I opened the bag Chad handed me and pulled out the note he wrote down. It told me I needed to pull out and put on the tight, stretching, running shorts first. They were a semi-shimmering kind of gold like color and on the inside of the waist band had the initials, "J.F." I hoped that whomever this J.F. was that he didn't use these as underwear and I pulled them up and on. I stood there for a moment, staring at myself in disbelief, even though these were made out of material like spandex, it still was large enough that on my small and thin frame it hung baggy on me.


Suddenly something hit me in the balls, or felt more like I was kicked there. I was seeing spots and stars over the pain. I doubled over and fell back to the bench seat under the wall hooks and looked up and around expecting to see Rick standing there. But there was no one. Just me. Me and this incredible feeling of pain that spread out and radiated from by balls. Yet, as the pain radiated out, it began to become this warm, soothing feeling. It began to feel like something, someone, lightly stroking my balls and scrotum. There was churning happening, like the semen in my testicles was swirling round and round on its own. The warmth that had spread out was getting warmer and warmer, and suddenly I realized my balls felt heavier... they were getting comfortable, snug, tight inside these slightly large pair of spandex running shorts. Trying to look down at them was a little difficult so I turned my eyes towards the mirror across from me and there I saw it. I could see it. My balls. My testicles were actually growing, getting bigger, fuller... hanging slightly lower, but I could tell my scrotum was tight and taught, still holding them somewhat close. Where I was small sized before, I was well beyond average sized now and they still got a bit bigger. My god, when I blow I'm going to spew like a cup of cum!


I doubled over again, but instead of an expression of pain on my face, it was one of surprise and pleasure. The stroking sensation had moved up and forward from my scrotum and testicles to my penis, and oh how sensual, firm, and yet silky did that stroke feel. It happened again and I let out one more audible gasp. The sensation ran down my cock, across my balls, up my abs, over my chest, through my throat, and slammed into my chin, making it quiver and slam shut shakily. The corners of my mouth still moved up in an controlled smile of ecstasy, my eyebrows rose up and arched, as my eyelids came down over my eyes that were rolling back in my head.

The stroking released me for just a moment and I came forward in a stooped sitting position over my knees breathing heavily. What the fuck was happening? What had Chad done to me?


Returning, the stroke slid down my soft shaft again causing my torso to rock backwards and my head to hit the wall. My legs kicked out in front of me and I was in a position to slide off the bench seat, but I had managed to grab the front of the bench seat to hold me there, as much as my spindly, short arms could do.


It returned again, but this time I felt my cock move, but it wasn't becoming erect. It felt like it lurched forward. My tiny, miniscule, two and a half inch soft pecker, was lurching forward. Again... it moved forward. Hmmmmm it pushed farther.... there was now a regular sized bulge forming in these running shorts. Oooohhh further out it pushed. Huuuuuhhhhh more it grew. Wuuuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuuuu... it thrust out still farther. Father and fatter it grew and grew. Each stroke making it continue on and on in its growth. It finally grew out of its normal bunched state and began to lie in these shorts long and out. AH-HAAAA! Longer and farther out. HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOH! it was snaking down one of the legs now. HMMMMMPFFFFFFT! Oh my god.... Finally the sensation stopped. I lay spread eagle on the bench end, breathing deeply, rapidly. I felt like I might have had an orgasm, but the shorts were dry and unstained. But the bulge...holy fuck, the bulge! .... This giant tube of something was snaking down one of the legs of my shorts! It looked to be around nine ten inches long! That wasn't me. It couldn't be me. It wasn't mine.

But as I began to try to move and sit up, the sensations from it told me this was most assuredly my dick. The pull and feel of the spandex rubbing on it let me know this huge projectile looking thing was my cock, and boy did it like being rubbed. Soon the more natural warming sensation began coursing through my member. It was blood, it was getting erect, and it was getting bigger. ... much....much bigger. My cock already lie nearly all the way down to my knees and now it was achieving that measurement. Longer it got, thicker too. It just grew, and became stiff, and hard, and veiny, pulsing in my running shorts, waiting to be released. When it finally stopped, I couldn't believe the heft of this thing. The weight and size of it. It looked as long as my entire thigh, perhaps a bit more. It looked to be about four to six inches longer than what it did soft! Holy shit! I'm a shower and a grower!

Sitting there for several minutes, feeling the warmth, the...power.... the arousal of my huge prick throbbing in my shorts, I finally kind of shook myself awake out of my ecstasy stupor. Rick could come barging in through that door at any moment and although I was pretty sure I was more hung than him now.... WAY more hung than him, I wasn't anywhere near his size or his strength. I stood up and looked at the note. It said to put the tank top on next.

Pulling it out of the bag, I turned it slightly inside out to see if there was a tag, so I knew which side was the back. There wasn't any. There were, however, initials on almost every single square used in making this tank top: B.P., S.O., A.S., F.Z., F.C., L.H., D.Y., J.C., P.H., B.D., L.F., L.P., T.B, B.C., C.P., M.M., P.dM., A.S., B.W., A.V., A.L., A.C., C.G., D.W., E.F., E. R., E. C., F. mG., G. S., N. E S., P.H., on and on and on it went. Every square making this tank top had a set of initials on it, save one. When I looked at the square it was in the dead center of either the front or the back of the shirt and on the outside part had a screen inked picture of the Hulk on it. I decided that this was the front and slipped the tank top on accordingly. I stood there for a moment, trying to see how I looked in it.

Then it began... a sensation like a warm trickle of water was being poured down the back of my head and the stream ran straight down the spine, hit my waist and broke into two streams running down my buttocks, down my hamstrings, behind my knees, over my calves and to the heels of my feet. I stood for moment, alternatively raising on the balls of my feet, trying to shake the feeling off, but it seemed to get a little harder to do the motion, or easier, or both? I looked at myself in the mirror and noticed that the area around my ankles looked just slightly thicker, meatier, almost like I had more bone density or something. Then I noticed my calves... they were breathing? In and and ouuuut. Further and further in time with my breath my gastrocnemius muscles were tightening, expanding, growing....bulging into nice thick shapes, then becoming upside-down hearts beating and still swelling. More and more....growing into these huge diamond shaped slabs of pure muscle on the back of my shins, so cut, so defined, yet so large, and when I stooped to feel them, they were so dense. I looked like the cartoon character, Popeye, but with bulging calves instead of forearms.

Then the swelling began in my thighs with alternate, round and round twitching and throbbing. My left vastus externus or outer tear drop, then the rectus femoris or upper tear drop, then the inner tear drop or vastus internus. The twitching and swelling then hopped over to my right leg working its way around inner, upper, outer, then moved to the back and my biceps femoris, and then my hamstring tightened. The hamstring of my left leg then became taught, followed by its biceps femoris swelling and then back around to the front. Round and round, swelling and throbbing, growing, inflating. I started doing squat thrust motions to try and relieve the feeling, the pain, the stretch, but still it kept coming, more and more. The tear drops getting larger and larger, thicker and wider, strong and more defined and cut. The hamstring and back of the thigh getting larger, more fully developed and thick. I had to start spreading my feet wider and wider apart in order to stand. I tripped a few times trying to walk forward as I couldn't walk like I used to; I had to start kicking my legs sideways and forward to get anywhere. The running shorts began to lightly protest with a tear, tear here and pop, pop there until finally blowing out with long riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiips splitting up the seams and else wear.

Thank God it did so, for my thighs were beginning to push in on and crush my balls, trying to push them forward and out even more in the shorts, making them look even more insanely huge and my cock larger than it already, crazily was. The feeling travelled up the growing, thickening hamstrings, which split the back of the shorts, right on up in to my glutious maximus, my butt. I suddenly kept walking around trying to pull my butt cheeks in as it felt like they were constantly getting goosed. Before I knew it they had finished the job the hamstrings had started in tearing out the back end of these shorts. Turning to gaze in the mirror I stood in awe and confusion. I had these bulges to the front and back of me. The front was due to my overly large cock and balls, while the back was due to this firm, bubbled butt. That wasn't me... it couldn't be me.... I was just a stick, no bulges what-so-ever above my legs, just as flat there as I was in my chest and abs, like a smooth board.

I tried to shake my head as though I could shake this away as if it were a dream. I tried, stumblingly, to walk it off, when I heard these heavy, thudded, footsteps. "Shit!" I thought. "Rick has found me." But then I began to realize the thuds were coming from my own feet striking the ground. I'm making this much noise? I weigh this much already? This is just my legs and ass!

But then I began to have a stomach ache. Doubling over was new kind of dance for me today. Every time my stomach lurched I felt my mid section tighten, and swell. Ridges and cuts began to develop as more and more muscles popped out and became defined. External Obliques, Internal Obliques, Abdominals. Further and further they swelled and bunched, grew defined and strong. And a tightening in my lower back, was happening as well. Soon my midsection was thick, but tight, a virtual cobblestoned road. I stood a little straighter. I was firm and flat. Despite the obscene size of my calve and thigh muscles, I thought I'd look a little like an out of shape or bloated bodybuilder, but my waist was impossibly tight.

Then my arms began to move, bouncing out to the sides every once in a while and I could see the tank on me begin to stretch out to the sides a bit. Come in....stretch out....come in....stretch out.... in.... push my arms up.... it was my lats. growing wider and thicker, wider and thicker... WIDER AND THICKER! In moments I'd gone from being a straight pencil to having some curves, having some shape, having a "v" shape, having a shape as wide a "w", to having a back and lat section that looked more like a curved bracket, }, on its side. I was still busy feeling up each brick of my abs, but was perplexed at how I was able to get my arms in to reach them.

Suddenly I snapped up, taking a huge deep intake of breath, then just as fast hunched forward rounding my shoulders. Back and forth I went with motion: standing straight and leaning back, lean forward and hunch like I'm attempting a crab shot pose in body building. My pecs, traps, and deltoids were all growing and swelling. Back....chest is wider. Forward, shoulder broader, traps thicker, delts rounder. Back....chest bumping out a bit. Forward...broader, taller and thicker, rounder. Back, bottom ridge of pecs forming. Forward, range of hills forming on my shoulders. Back, two chest crescents begin pulling up the tank top. Forward, a rising bluff pulls on the back of the tank. Back, two round platters appear pulling at the tank from top and sides. Forward, the bluffs are rising turning into plateaus. Back, two globe like slabs of meat are jutting out pulling hard at this tank top and oozing out the sides. Forward, mountain ranges are rising up on my shoulders threatening to snap the tank top straps. So full and mounding are my chest, delts and traps that they're in proportion to my calves and thighs and buttocks, but look almost cartoonish in their size, yet they are full, dense, strong, cut, defined, and developed.

As I'm standing there looking at myself, I see my neck get thicker and thicker, becoming just as impossibly huge, dense, and strong. Twig to limb, to branch, to trunk, to a granite Egyptian style column. Then my arms began to twitch and shake. Both my triceps and biceps begin pop and swell, grow and inflate. I'm watching my arms go from mere sticks to having some meat on them, to being thick, to being developed, to having a baseball, to softball, a football, soccer ball, and the tri's are swelling and thickening right along with them into these huge iron like horseshoes. Everywhere developing such mass, such density, such definition, such strength! My arms that were already hanging out at angles due to my back and lats, began to rise out and up more and more, higher and further. Suddenly, it didn't matter how I wanted to stand, my arms relaxed didn't leave a parallel position to the floor!

At least my upper arms were technically resting on something, but my forearms just hung there in the air. As they hung there, they too began to develop, chords snaking down into them causing them to inflate, grow, swell, like balloons, but with many defined and cut ridges, striations. I was developing those Popeye arms like I thought of earlier, but it didn't matter because the entire rest of my body was a thoroughly and fully developed as they were. I had forearms that most men wished they had for upper arms. Upper arms that men wished for thighs. Thighs that men wished for chest or torso thickness. I was a miniature mass monster with cock and balls that could penetrate and fertilize the earth!

I began to walk around to get used to this newly acquired muscle mass and I could hear my footsteps resound through this room and even cause tremors outside of it. THUD! THUD! THUD! I haven't even heard Rick make that much of a thump on the floor when he walked. I looked at my physique in the now very tight tank top and watched myself swell just that much more, full of impossible muscle as the veins all over my body plumped up and rose sending nutrient giving blood to my muscles. When the swelling was done and my veins throbbing across my muscles as hard as my cock, I couldn't believe it. I was still all of 5' 6" but I had to be close to, probably over 300 pounds of rock hard and defined muscle! Not only could I take the blows better, but I could deliver them if necessary.

I leaned over carefully, trying to refigure my center of balance on this body, picked up the note and saw it said to place on the sandals and then immediately place on the basketball shorts. So I pulled the sandals out of the bag, noticing the initials S.K. on them, and put them on. I stood there looking at my insanely, immense muscular self and really enjoying it. Secretly I had always wished I was a huge muscle bound god, at least this way I was muscle bound and strong. Grrrrr. Then my fingers and my toes began to get tight. I began to wiggle them and flex them, try to shake them out. Finally I raised my hands in front and noticed that they were getting a little bit longer and much thicker, like they had strength in them too. As if they had been throwing a couple of 45 pound plates around like they were paper plates for years. I sat down on the bench and lifted my feet up to see how they were growing because I couldn't see over my pecs. Growing they were though, getting longer, thicker, meatier, with veins on them. They didn't look gnarly and horrible, but still were definitely men's feet, and were a bit large for my 5' 6" frame. Hands too.

Then I remembered I need to put on the basketball shorts, which I did. I grabbed them out of the bag and saw on the waistband, as I slipped into them, the initials P.S. These shorts were slightly snug in some areas on my legs, which was surprising cause they were so big and long. I mean, basketball shorts are supposed to hit one just above or at the knee, and these thing kind of hit me just below the calves. Good knight, who were they made for? It didn't matter as they were mine now, and I was enjoying the fact that at my small height I still had a power house build that could help me fill this thing in legs, butt, and crotch areas.


Suddenly I felt a strange stretching sensation all over my body.


What was going on now? What do these shorts do?


Suddenly I noticed a few things were easier to get too.


They were more at my bent hand height then up from it.


I was....I was average height now..... I was growing.... Growing taller!


Yes! Yes... I was growing. GROWING! Would I grow big enough to handle Ricky and his blows? Maybe be his equal? I was an average height man with beyond a bodybuilder's build now.

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Suddenly before I knew it, I began to watch things drop below my eye level, to where I had to start looking down. I could see where I came up on the door frame and realized my head was where Rick's came to. I WAS SIX FEET SIX INCHES TALL NOW! A TALL MAN!

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Head at the top of the door way, meeting the bottom of the door frame top. 6' 8"

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Head meeting the top of the door frame top! 6' 10".

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Seven foot even.

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Getting so huge.... tank top and runner shorts have been completely shredded. The basketball shorts are getting shorter and shorter on me, looking more like they should, except they're awfully full, tight, you can once again see the outline of my python, which is growing in proportion with me! It's getting bigger and bigger hanging just as long and thick on me as it did when I was 5' 6" and my muscles have continued to swell and grow as well, keeping the same size muscle mass. And I'm like seven foot six now, a foot taller than Rick!

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

I'm standing so much taller than the door. The ceiling is getting awfully close. But I don't care. I'm feeling great! Powerful!

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Head is touching the ceiling.... shorts are ripping apart

"Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...." "Uh-hu...."

Head breaking the plaster of the ceiling, I can't stand up straight in this room anymore. The ceiling itself is hitting me in the middle of my nose! My feet are spread as wide apart as the room, I have to pull my arms in to maneuver. I fill up the entire room, I'm so fucking huge!

"Where is he?!? I know that little fucking milksop is in one of these changing rooms. Come out, Randy! Don't make me break down these doors or I'll break you!"

"Fuck!" I thought to myself. "It's Rick. Derrick.... He'll soon find me." and then I laughed. "Who cares that he'll find me? What is he going to do now?"

Still, I knew I had one last item to put on, so I bent down and grabbed it. It looked big enough to just barely accommodate me, although the legs that I thought were really long on me, were going to look like a pair of Capri's now. I tried to back up a little and sit down on the bench seat. My body, by way of my butt, punched a hole in the back wall. I could still see brick in the hole, but had heard some bricks falling, and then I heard a man cussing on the other side. body... just broke through a plaster and timber, plus four rows of brick wall. Me! Just backing up!

I slipped the rave-cargo pants on. They were snug. My thighs even split them a bit down the seams, but I was able to get them on and even got the waist snapped. I stood there as I heard doors being broken down and customers outside screaming in panic. Then I began to feel a tingle all over my body, but I didn't quite sense any growth, swelling, or stretching feelings. I bent down so I could look into the mirror and saw my face and torso.

"Whoa!" I said.

Earlier during the grunts and groans of growing I had heard my voice lower and lower and lower until it was so deep and manly it would make men like Barry White sound like a chipmunk. Yet as I said "whoa" to my appearance, I heard my voice raise back up in pitch and sound a bit more youthful. My appearance...what set me off was, I had noticed all this body hair on me: arms, legs, abs and chest. Lots of it, but not so furry you couldn't see or distinguish my muscles. But it was there and all light and feathery, and ebony black, just like the hair on my head. I had grown a really thick mane of black as pitch hair on top of my head, my eyebrows and a goatee were the same color as well. I had a goatee, now... My eyes had become this brilliant, piercing green, and my features had morphed and changed into a very strikingly handsome angelic face but with some hard angular features. The kind of look that one sees in a catalogue of male models that oozes out sensitivity, sensuality, sexuality, angelicness, and yet still screams masculinity.

But within a moment those angled features softened, the goatee disappeared, as well as the chest and ab hair, most of the hair around my cock and balls, leaving just sparse thin, barely seen wisps of light brownish hair on my arms, legs, and just a few appearing under my arm. I was still like 8' 4" tall, with that beyond a build of bodybuilder and a very handsome face, but both were a bit softer now, youthful. I turned away from the mirror just in time to see a my back pack that I left in the alley appear. It was different however, and out of the front pocket stuck out some papers with new information.

One was a copy of my birth certificate. I had needed that to show status at the college earlier, but something was wrong. The birth year was off by nearly five years. Which would mean I would be the age of.... the age just before I had my growth spurt. Just before I had my growth spurt.... if I'm this big and huge now, how big of a growth spurt am I going to have?

I smiled in delight, knowing that not only was I much bigger than Derrick currently, but I was going to grow even bigger than him, and he didn't know it yet. Looking down at the rest of the papers it showed that I was still enrolled in all of the classes I had signed up for, at the same community college, but was on a "Prodigy Scholarship" which would transfer with me once I completed two years there and then registered for another school.


"Last room, Randy, boy! You've made me bust down every door in this stinking hallway. Am I going to have to do it to this one?"

"Yeah!" I said in as high of voice I could muster. Knowing the straps and arm holes for the back pack were too small for my upper arms, I hooked the back pack on a climbers clip on the waist of the rave pants and stood back a little bit from the door. Just a little bit. I was too big to back up any more in this small room.

WHAM! Derrick busted open the door hard and it swung into the mirror on the wall and shattered it. He dove right in screaming obscenities at me, with his fist cocked back and let it fly! .... pat.... He had delivered enough force that it should have made a sickening, loud, thud. A thud that let people know the muscle was going to be bruised, a welt the size of a golf ball should form on the body, and possibly a bone could be broken. But on my new body, all it resulted in was the sound of a small, pat.


Derrick recoiled in pain holding his hand. His fist hit my abs, which knowing he was coming in, I tightened up for him. Shouting out more curse words, he looked at me screaming and then cut his own voice short as he was force to look up...up... up. I was nearly two feet taller than him, hundreds of pounds heavier than him and stronger than him.

"We have a problem here, Mr. Armstrong." I said as I reached out with both hands and grabbed him by the head. I might have been able to do it with just one, and holding it with two, I could've easily caved his skull in, crushing it. Picking him up, I proceeded to carry him through the doorway, pausing only slightly as I didn't stoop to get through it, I just kept pressing until my upper chest, shoulders, neck, and head went through the wall, and the rest of my body squeezed through and widened the doorway. "You need to learn how to interact better with society, how not to bully people, and how most everything wrong in your life is because of your unwillingness to learn or take responsibility for yourself and your actions."

I said all that as I carried him through the other doorway that made the changing room hallway and led out into the shop. I liked this room better, it was a bit more comfortable being around twelve foot high. After walking through the crowd and up to the front of the store, I dropped him off in front of two police officers who had arrived on the scene.

"Holy, mother of....." said one as he looked me up and down.

"I don't care what you were fed, or how big you are, you can't come into a store and trash it and people like that." said the other.

"Officers, do you think I go completely daft when I call in a description of a perpetrator to you? I said he was six and half feet tall, football players build with brownish hair. Not a ebony haired, herculean built, eight and half foot tall god! The man who did the damage to everything is the one this man just dropped in front of you."

The officer turned and looked at me and said, "So did he start a fight with you and you finished it?"

"No, he started a fight we me and realized it was mistake when his fist struck my abs."

The other officer glanced at my abs at that point and cried out. "Jeeze-o-meezo! That's gotta be like hitting a brick wall!"

Other customers came forward and pointed Derrick out as the man who caused all the trouble, pushing them aside or breaking in on them in the changing rooms.

"Alright," said the one officer, so that's one, two, counts of destruction of property, how many counts of destruction of merchandise?"

"Twenty-seven pieces destroyed, officer." called out Chad.

"Alright, twenty-seven counts of that, and one two counts of assault and battery."

"Six." I said.

"Six? Sir, it doesn't matter if he actually hurt you or not. The fact that he attempted to hurt you and make contact counts."

"Oh, I'm not disputing that... it's just the charge with me is assault and battery on a minor."

"A... a minor?!? Sir, are you trying to tell me you're under the age of eighteen?"

"Not trying to, actually telling you I am. Here."

I gave the officer what was, to me, my new i.d.

"Holy! You just turned fourteen this year?!"

The other officer suddenly stiffened up and breathlessly whispered, "Just turned fourteen, how big are you gonna.... oh..."

Chad stepped forward, "You know, when investigating build destruction, officers should get aprons like this one to wear to keep their uniforms clean. There ya go, badge man...."

"Uhm... uh...thank you."

"You're welcome. Tell me, are ya, single?"

"Uh, yeah....?"

"Ah, well then, here's my address, come over tonight around eight, and I'll show you how to clean that stain out of your paints, after I get this place cleaned up."

"About part of this mess. Sorry, Chad. I grabbed a hold of him to stop him and couldn't duck through the doorways carrying him, so I just went through. I'll come in, help you repair the damage, and if I have enough from my scholarship money left over help pay for those damages."

"Oh, honey, listen, don't worry about it. He would've torn up the whole store if you hadn't stopped him back there."

"Hahaha... alright. Thanks, but I'll still come in and help you out. At least to thank you for finding me these pair of pants. They'll help keep me covered 'til I can get stuff from online orders."

"Don't you have any clothes?" asked the more coherent officer.

"Uhm... no... family friends helped move me down here, but they had a car fire in their van and my clothes all went up in it. I can't buy anything off the rack in stores, and I uh, have to wait for all my specialty made clothes."

"Yeah... I would imagine. Well, look, could ya wear a bed sheet or something until those close come in. With a body that size and build, you're likely to start a riot unintentionally, ok?"

The cops took Derrick away and he spent most of his first quarter in jail, losing most of his scholarships. Chad, cleaned up his store as best he could, closed up for the night, and then awaited to entertain the one officer whom he assisted with an apron earlier. As for me, I went home thinking of all the fun I was going to have. Over time another school took notice of me and has offered to give me a scholarship, but it's for athletes. As I'm not eighteen yet, I can't play for them anyway, so I'll attend there when I'm done getting my bachelors at this college, and get my masters via an athletic scholarship. But I'm going to surprise them. When not doing school work, or working as a plus sized male fitness model, I'm searching books and the internet for ways to get taller and even bigger built through exercise, herbs, and medicine. Yeah... if I'm going to take the field in college, I'm going to take it big. Hmmmmm what's this? Penis pumps, exercising, and jelking.....