The Christmas Journal 11

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Journal entry January 4th

Journal….what can I say…..I am overwhelmed…. I overwhelm. I am a mountainous mass that blows people away…literally… I am leaving all men blown away in awe. Some men so scared they blow by pissing their pants, others are so turned on they blow by cumming in their pants. And look at you….so huge, so large, so massive to fit with my size. A vast long plane of metal and running cables of electric wire the kind most people only see on electric poles running along the side of the road, that is what makes up some of the parts of your keyboard. People can walk on you now….

I got up this morning….still amazed at my new size, both current and what I was. The gifts changed me yesterday and somehow I know, even if this all becomes a dream I’m now forever to be 6’ 9” when this whole thing started. Yet… I know this isn’t going to fade, somehow this is all real, and I’m as real as you can get. How can you say a man that stands sixteen and half feet tall and is built like one of the most ultimate bodybuilders ever doesn’t exist? The two men I’ve come to know…quite well, quite personally over the last couple of days are draped across me as they sleep. I was almost big enough to allow both of them to sleep comfortably, one on each side of my torso. They felt me up and compared themselves all night long. They had wet dreams about me in their sleep. I know for there are dried white streaks across my torso the start from x point on my body and end under their crotches.

Those two are the size of children for me and I easily slide them off on to the bed as I get up. I’ve got work to do. I pack my suitcase with what few clothes I have. Well, it takes a lot of time and work and material to make clothes for a man my size. I do an early morning workout, although the cameras are off today. I parade from the workout area to the kitchen and eat one of my ginormous meals to fuel me for the day…seven dozen eggs, whole cow of beef, practically one person’s whole garden in the omelet. Then head off to shower. I’m heading to a bodybuilding convention and press conference. Weider associates will be announcing a decision concerning my competing. How can they not let me compete? I am the ultimate bodybuilder….and I’m going to get bigger….

My cock gets rock hard and I begin to stroke it lightly. I stop myself short knowing I’ve got two shots left at the houses, today and tomorrow. I continue to feel myself up as I wash myself down. Coating my muscles with soap and then rubbing my hands all over myself as I stand under the showers to rinse off. Once done, I dry off, grab the lotion, and head to the living room. I live in a converted warehouse. I know this… my growth as a child, pre-teen, teen, and into an adult, has been so phenomenal I tower over everyone and thus need to have a special place to call home. I feel great in this house because there is room for me to move, to stretch, to reach, to layout. It is my home because at the utmost peak it is almost three times as tall as I am. … ….I have room to grow…some men grow late in their twenties right? I will… I must…I want to…..

But my mind flashed images of a huge Victorian house, a regular one, and a townhouse apartment. I know which is my original, which one originally dwarfed me and my body….but it seems like a dream, a distant memory to be forgotten. I stroll into the living room and approach the tree. Kneeling down beside it I apply some lotion to my still throbbing cock and begin to finish what I had started in the shower. It doesn’t take long and soon the second to last house is completely covered.

“On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me…..Eleven piece outfit to hulk out of, but keeping your mind and only changing to a natural health olive-tan skin tone.”

What the hell was that? That has got to be the oddest phrase uttered by those mysterious sprite, elven, whatever singers yet. I didn’t have time to worry about or think about it. I grabbed my suitcase, told the boys I’d seem them later at the show, and climbed into my custom made big rig and drove off to the convention.

The convention…what a blast that was. Getting out of my “car”, people began to notice me immediately. Course I had to make a grand entrance, how could I not. I had to stand by the entrance, which I couldn’t fit into neither height nor width wise, and flag a convention employee down. He, in turn upon seeing who I was, led me around to the side of the main exhibition hall and began to raise one of the large loading doors. This of course meant that about one fourth of the convention attendees turned to see me enter. My spot however was a little one and was in the middle, so I began to walk amongst the convention goers. Even the tallest guy didn’t come up to my thighs…all around my knees or lower. I was wearing workout shorts and a tank, with tennis shoes and socks, all custom made of course. But what got me, what I loved about it, seeing where all these people came up to on me, and then seeing my huge, mammoth, diamond calves and that they were twice, maybe three, four times bigger round than most of these people’s bodies!

Eventually, everyone stood still looking up at me, in awe, dumb struck, not sure what to do and it spread over the entire hall as all turned to look at me, the giant man of muscle. They began to step back in the aisle, creating a path that led to my booth, where there were a number of people, fans of mine, waiting for me.

I spent the day standing, kneeling, squatting, sitting, standing, with all sorts of folk all day long. Height comparison shots: people taking a picture a regular range to show they only came up to my knew, top of my claves, then taking a far back one so I’d fit in it, then another close up shot as I kneeled down next to them. Tons of young teenagers to college men, walking up shaking my hand, my finger, then asking me to do a biceps pose and uttering low and reverent like “whoooooaaaaa.” Then they’d pull back their shirt sleeves and do a biceps pose in front of mine. Pictures of tape measures going round my arms, fore and an upper, my chest, my thighs, my calves. Women groping me, men doing the same, some even bold enough to cop a feel of my junk. Then there were the people who brought in objects; things they wanted me to crush, bare handed, with my arm in a bicep pose, between my chest…. On and on the day went as I kept dwarfing person after person no matter how tall or built they were. I had to fight myself from getting a hard on all day.

When it was time for the exhibition hall to close down, I went back to a special hall the hotel temporarily turned into a room for me. Walking through the great door on the side…great door…it was a movable wall section about twenty feet tall! Walking through the great door on the side, I nearly blew a load, because I could see how much of it I was taking up. Like some 6’ 3” guy in a normal sized door way. I even backed up and stood on my tippy toes to see if I could graze my head on it. This is my new mark…after growing past a regular door sooo long ago in my childhood, I now want to grow past this door.

After taking a shower, I got dried off and opened up my suitcase. Knowing what I was going to wear, I pulled out the brand new especially made suit, just for me. Yet somehow, I don’t remember seeing it before. I’m not sure I recalled packing it, yet I’m very glad I did. I put on the two socks, then the specially made briefs that wouldn’t show a line through the pants, then the shirt, then the pants, the custom made belt, that matched the two shoes made as accessories for this outfit – what a nice gift this clothier gave me…- the tie, the vest, and last the jacket. Now I was ready for the banquet and the press conference that the Weider group was going to have about me. I can’t wait to hear nor wait to compete.

The dinner went well, even the hotel staff accommodating service to me and my gargantuan appetite. I had to laugh I think my salad bowl was a former satellite dish that got all repaired, coated, brushed, polished for it’s new job. It was a lil’ embarrassing through as I couldn’t believe how many people stared at me while I was eating, all because of the amount of food needed to be brought to me. After dessert, a wonderful chocolate fudge cheesecake, I got a whole one…two actually, was time for the announcement, but it was interrupted by some lady that came storming up to me and screaming what an obscenity to nature I was! Despite all the tests verifying my condition was natural, I was a natural freak of nature, this woman was proclaiming to one and all I was juiced, I took growth hormones, steroids, muscle builders, ancient growth serums, penile enlargement and virility drugs. All the time screaming in my face with a bullhorn when she could, smacking my legs with her clipboard, poking me with the pointy end of her protest sign. She was beginning to piss me off but good.

Eventually they rounded her up and took her away somewhere to the back of the hall, in the back corridors the waiters use to get from there to the kitchen. The head of Weider Group stood up at the podium, welcomed everyone, pointed out dignitaries, former Mr. O’s, thanks all the guests for a wonderful day saluting the healthy lifestyle of bodybuilding and announced what activities were on deck for the next day. Then came the announcement.

“After much deliberation, the Weider Association has made its decision. Although this man is the epitome of bodybuilding principles, has a clean life without the use of drugs and steroids or muscle building enhancements, we feel that it is not wise to allow him the ability to compete.”

There was a large reaction from the crowd with a series of “boos” echoing in the hall.

“Given that he suffers from a syndrome, named after him, that makes him proportionately larger than most men, we feel it would 1. be unfair to other participants and 2. promote and impossible goal for our younger supporters to obtain. No one else will ever be able to obtain the type of size and physique this man has and we fear having him compete will make him too much of a goal for young people to try and emulate or beat, and thus turn them towards the chemical altering drugs we desperately try to stamp out in our sport.”

I didn’t even wait for him to finish. I couldn’t breathe. I stood up at my table and started walking for the loading door. I was blocked by the lady who protested me earlier. Breaking free she made a bee-line right back to me and had heard the announcement.

“You see! You are an abomination! Your own sport doesn’t accept you! You should be taken to a remote island and changed back or left to live there the rest of your days!”

“Someone get this woman out of his face! Now, don’t walk away mad, surely you understand how difficult it is for us in making this decision….”


A couple of people in the dinner audience were plants and they now joined her in her chant against me…


“Now, madame, call off your people, he’s not a freak, he’s just big boned…”

“Oh no… I’m not big boned…I HAVE A SYNDROME!”

“See! Steroid aggression at it’s best! From a man this size our children could be…”


My screaming that at her, directly in her face made her do just that, and she collapsed in a heap to the floor. I stormed out the door, just barely allowing it enough time to rise up enough for me to fit through. The representative from the Weider group was at my heels, trying to placate me, explain how this was a reasonable decision.

“WHY!” I screamed and turned to…face him so to speak. “Why can’t you let me compete? Is it cause you’re afraid of this?” And I did a double-bi pose in my suit.

“Admit it, you’re just not letting me in cause there isn’t anyone as built, as cut, as jacked, as swoll, yet defined like me. Even in my custom made suit I still look huge and built.” I did another double bi, and the crowd did a large gasp, probably because the suit looked a lil tight and my form popped even under all the layers.

“The fact that I have so much muscle per pound, with the strength!” I did a crab shot, and gasps a came out again. The suit was beginning to feel very tight on me and as I looked down, flexed -it was now almost form fitting. But, I was too lost in my anger at the time to notice what was going on and I kept on my tirade.

“You just know, it’s not worth it for the other competitors if I were to compete!” I lurched a little, so it seemed, the clothes became tight on me, and form fitting in a relaxed stance.

“You could allow me to compete, there’s technology to even the field!” I hopped, and my clothes got tighter, I was looking like a sausage coming out of a tight casing. The pants were ridding up my ankles, the sleeves were riding up my forearms.

“You could film me through a camera and then display a proportionate sized image next to the other contestants!” Heave….pop… pop… pop…pop…. Suddenly small pops appeared in the shirt and jacket around my upper arm, a small one in the back. My pants looked painted on and were headed for the lower part of my calf.

“Ugh…. Mother fucking shoes!” bulge….rip…rip…rip…rip….riiiiiiiiiip. My feet exploded out of the shoes, their sides splitting completely from toe to heel, my pinky toes exposed to air, showing the strain my huge feet were placing on the socks to stay together. My shoulders got wider causing the split in the back to tear further down my torso. My arms swelled out more, ripping the sleeves of the shirt and jacket wide open. My pants the upper part were so tight it looked like dyed skin, the waist band beginning to become constrictive, the hems meeting my calves in battle and loosing as they suddenly burst apart sending rips up the seam lines….

“I am a mountainous mass of manly muscle!” sweEEELL…. My feet popped everything that was left of the shoes and continued to grow…Grow…GROW past them. My delts popped the shoulders of the shirt and jacket open. My forearms shredded the hem of the shirt and jacket sleeves like my calves had done to the pants, while my quads started making short work of the pants’ upper section. I begin to watch people move farther and farther from me…no their heads are moving down and down my leg…no I was growing taller!

“I am the epiteme of muscle size, definition, shape, strength and mass, I should be allowed to compete as the example of what to strive for! ACH! ERRR AUUUUUGHHHH!” up…Up…UP I go! The shirt is gone, the jacket is gone, only clinging to my torso because the vest is still just barely holding on, the back now starting to rip, the cloth pulling away and puckering around the buttons that soon would shoot off in a dozen different directions. The would mimic the pant button that just released as my waist, which although taut and tiny compared to mammoth size of the rest of my body, has expanded beyond the reach of the waist band. Once the button was gone, my swelling body, and my groin, cause the pants to simply open up wide along the zipper. Tatters, rags, torn fragments are waving around my legs, small thin bands one each around my legs right where they join my torso, being the only thing that keeps them there. It looks like I’m wearing some really stringy kind of thong.

I raise my arms up in the victory pose, flexing them as hard as I can. “This! THIS! This is the complete temple to the body, hours of dedication, days of planning the correct balance of weight to lift, sleep to heal, food to fuel and even more challenging on a body that was growing into a giant and I shouldn’t be allowed to compete?!? OOOOOOHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGH!” I stood there frozen in my victory pose stance watching as I shot up taller, as my arms ballooned out thicker and thicker, yet even more cut and defined, as what would now be miles and miles of vessels popping up on top in the form of the most ultimate pump. My shoulders broadened wider to allow more muscle. My back did the same. My thighs joined those two to mirror the shape of the great “v”….becoming a “w,” becoming a curvy shaped bracket (}). My calves praised the thighs and bunched and bulged and grew to become proportionate in size, and my feet grew out longer and wider and thicker manlier…. My shoes nowhere to be seen, the ‘thong’ just snapping off my body as well as the vest, which allowed the decimated shirt and jacket to finally fall away from its destroyer.

I could see my reflection in the section of the building that was the multi storied hotel, taking up most of the reflective surface. My arms were hanging almost parallel with the ground, my legs were at a much wider stance. I couldn’t look down to see my feet even though I knew they were a good size, even comparable to my height…which was still expanding, although slowing down. I was a marvel. Think of these men: Lou Ferrigno, Tom Platz, Trey Brewer, Jay Cutler, Mike Matarazzo, Lee Priest, Sergio Olivia, Greg Kovacs, their size, proportions, mass….the best of all of them combined… and beyond. I was that.

If that woman thought I was a freak before, she simply won’t know how to describe me now. I marveled at my body, got rock hard as I watched it finish growing and filling out. The deep cuts begin getting supremely etched into my body, the mini lines of striations forming all along my body, all over huge globes of muscle that formed devastatingly tall, wide, thick, high peaks and mounds. Then there was “the wave” Like a ripple of vapors in the air…

Suddenly there were spot lights on the ground, aimed at me, but at angles and distance to high light my every curve and bulge of my form. The dinner dais and announcement area suddenly appeared out here beside me. There were lines of pennant flags, balloons, and a huge banner with my name on it from one corner of the building to the next. Around my feet was an area closed off to the public so I could move, walk, in some space without having to worry about them. And worry I did. I needed to…now. My two college jocks were there beaming up at me….they came up to just under or just above the bottom of my calves.

“Don’t be alarmed ladies and gentlemen, and no, our guest isn’t being vulgar. The…uhm….stiffness, happens with a lot of body builders when giving an exhibition. The rush of the blood, the ‘pump’, through the body, combined with the amount of testosterone used when working out frequently leaves many men in a semi-aroused state. Due to our guests condition, he has that much more of the hormones travelling through him. He just can’t simply help it at times. But of course this is why he’s grown to be this mountain of superbly crafted muscle, on a gigantic, towering frame of twenty-five feet tall!”

Twenty-five feet tall…. TWENTY-FIVE FEET TALL! They set up a specially prepared set up in the convention center pool. Later on after posing here, they had me step “onto” the pool, which appeared to have been filled in with concrete. Instead it was a new scientific kind of givable foam. I stepped onto it and began to sink into the pool, but nowhere near as fast as I would’ve expected for foam. Taking how long it took for me to sink through the foam and how much of it I displaced, there were able to figure out my weight, and astonishing 47,37 pounds. I thought I’d blow right there when the Weider group announced how much I weighed in tons: 23 and half tons, 376 pounds.

If I had lost it and gushed, I imagine a few people might drown… my balls are still proportionate as they were to my prick, all the new sizing figured. I’m not a porno star size, and it looks even more average given the size of my muscles, but I’m not too bad down there – 37.5 inches. It’s what the jocks measured me at a few minutes ago. I think if I was back to my original height of six-foot ni….er five foot nine inches, I’d have about 8 to 8.5 inches down there. Still I’m more than large enough now to leave quite a pool behind.

Anyway…my stats were gone over and listed in both my size and proportionately if I were average height. They loaded up chains and such that cranes use to haul girders and the like at construction sites and stood in awe as I hoisted parts of whole buildings up, and up, and over my head, as curls or bench presses. My muscle grew huge and swollen with vessels popping up and running over like giant anacondas all over my body.

Eventually they made the announcement that I would be allowed to compete in the new “gigantic class” although they would project me onto a screen amongst the other competing bodybuilders so they could compare size, shape, and definition next to them. I posed late into the night. My two jocks eventually sat down and relaxed on my feet. Well they could, my feet being sixty-one inches long, just over five feet in length. When the crowd got sleepy enough and dispersed, I picked up my jocks and walked across the town and countryside from the convention center to home.

The building is still taller than me, but I can raise my hands and almost touch the upper most girders of the roof line. This old warehouse will always be my home. No other building will ever fit me. Likewise I know from now on I shall always be nude, except for some blankets or sheets made for my bed. Cutting out such large pieces of cloth and stitching them together is too much work, too much hassle, too great a task and too much of a strain on resources for it to be done again and again. No, I am a literal mountain of muscle that is forever on display, never to be covered again.

My web subscribers have just enjoyed one hell of a show, for I was so turned on at how large and strong I am, how puny my lil jocks are, I remained boned all the way on the walk home. So, of course I rewarded them by allowing them to help me with the problem. The late night viewers got to watch a three hour show as those two young men rock climbed me like the mountain I am, to get to my nipples and rub them with the whole hands and watch their hands appear to get smaller and smaller to my swelling nips. Then they grappled down to my cock, and proceeded to stroke it off with the full arms, including torsos, working and working and stroking until I finally assisted by reaching out and rubbing the head until I sent out a roar that nearly shattered the windows and torrent of cum that hit the camera area of the bedroom, knocking over, down, and out, all the video equipment.

Squatting down, I allowed the jocks to try and approach the head to drink some of the cum, the after shock volleys still being strong enough to knock them down, and coat them completely. We then showered and they collapsed totally exhausted and I came to write in you and discovered you in your new form. What can I say…..I am overwhelmed…. I overwhelm. I am a mountainous mass that blows….I already stated that….only a few hours of night time left. I must get so sleep so I can get up “tomorrow” and receive….one….last….gift. This is unreal…amazing…more than I ever could have imagined and yet…I’m so thrilled with it…so turned on... becoming erect once more. One more day…..I perform a most muscular looking at myself in the monitor reflection. One more day…more to come…what will I become…..

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