The HIMS.3 8

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Clint paced around a little bit, highly nervous. He had to think… think think think. Not something he was highly accustommed to doing off the football field. Tonight, however, an idea came to him. He remembered one of the support arms for the collapsible bleachers in the main gymnasium was broken; that could take Ed II out. Rushing as fast as his new tiny, short little legs could carry him, he ran to the gym and attempted to pull the broken piece off the bleachers. Needless to say, it wouldn’t budge. Luck attempted to give him a hand, as he discovered the piece would swivel, meaning the bolt that held the one sturdy end to the rest of the framework was loose. Quickly using his new tiny fingers, he unscrewed the bolt and took the bar back inside the locker room.

He approached the hulking new twin, and wanting to make sure he wasn’t caught, turned his back to the large doorway of the second half of the locker room. He looked down and thought to himself…

Okay. You’ve plagued me in one form, you’re not plaguing me in this one, still due to your original, I wanna see your face as I take you out.

With a slight kick Clint turned the Ed doppelganger’s face up and towards the door. Raising the bar high over his head, he was about to bring it down onto a head when he suddenly heard a voice booming like thunder.


Clint looked up and as his eyes opened wide, so too did his bladder and he pissed all over himself. There stood Mark… everywhere at once! One huge hulk-sized college man. He had to been pushing something like eight and a half to nine feet tall. His muscles were popping, plumping, bulging, and veining everywhere. He was swollen; he was inflating. The muscles, their strength and size, weren’t what worried Clint right now; it was the look on Mark’s face. It was all scrunched up in a rage and although the Hulk’s green would make most mean run in fear, Mark’s red was more fightening. Clint did the only thing he knew he could do, he turned and ran.

But too quickly did the new long, thick, and powerful legs take the now behemoth, Mark. In was felt like two earth shattering steps, Clint could feel Mark’s hot breath down his back. Clint knew there was no way to outrun him. Clint knew there was no way to fight him. Clint knew he was as good as dead. In one split second decision, Clint decided to just stop, drop, lay down, and die, for it would be easier that way. Yet, as powerful and as long as Mark’s legs were, he’d only just developed them in the last hour or so. He wasn’t used to how far and how fast they made him travel. Add to this the fact that upon seeing Clint over what he thought was a dead Ed, his mind was not in the clearest of modes to think straight.

Clint dropped, and Mark, his feet having delivered him to his prey too quickly, was directly on top of him and unable to jump over. Although tiny, Clint’s body provided enough material and weight to trip Mark who went sailing through the large sliding door/wall that separated the locker room. Clint saw stars for what felt like an hour. Clearing his head by shaking it, he discovered that Ed II was gone, Mark was on the other side of part two of the locker room. Semi-unconcious in his blind rage, he had tripped and continued running head on into the wall.

His brain jumping to its feet quicker than Clint did, he realized what he needed to do. As fast as he could, he ran to the door, just in time to see Mark starting to make his way towards the doorway. Clint pulled the door shut and slammed the bar down into the holes where the padlock would go during games when visitors were present.

Mark arrived at the door just a second too late and with a grab of his newly sized arms gave a mighty tug at the door to pull it open, but it held fast. In fact he partially caused the bar in the locking mechanism to bend, making it so it wouldn’t come out easily. Without wasting any time, Clint found the mighty padlock and got it through the same holes and securely locked it. Now he had two of his problems locked down in the visiting section of the locker room. To make extra sure, he unscrewed two poles off of some janitor’s mops and placed them in the tracks of the large steel wall-door so that if the lock was undone, it couldn’t be opened still.

Now Clint needed to get away and think, for a few minutes to figure out what to do. He walked away from door, but instead of walking straight out, he turned to go down the other corridor of lockers and take the side door out into the gymnasium. His head lost in thought, he didn’t watch where he was going and suddenly, he ran into a wall. No…it wasn’t a wall, it was Trey.

“Whoa! Where we goin’ li’l man? I kind of wanted to talk with you, Ed.”

“GetdafuckoffImnotEd!” Clint hissed at the baby-faced young man.

“Whoa, easy! Easy there… Clint?”

“Yeah, it’s me! Clint. I’m in a worse situation that you are.”

“Slow down, slow down. What happened and what do you mean a worse situation than me?”

“Can’t you fuckin’ tell?! I shrunk, man! I’m deflated! I’m short! I’m scrawny! I went out to push Ed away, get his geeky stink away from me and suddenly he’s a college jock-god and I’m a short, nerdy looking, computer geek!”

“Well, it might be karma.”


“Dude, you’ve been one mean bastard, using and abusing your size, height, and strength. I think the universe sent a lot of people to tell you to be more polite and since ya didn’t, WHAM! The universe made you a li’l average fucker. Sucks to be you. And what’s so bad about me?”

“You’re not whole!”

“What do you mean I’m not whole?”

“Look at you! You’ve got like the height of man, the size of a man, but it’s all baby fat, and you got this cute looking boy-man face, and no fucking hair. What kind of freak are you?”

Trey picked up Clint and then abruptly sat him down on a bench.

“I’m just a nice guy freak. My body’s fine. I just got done with a workout. Just came in here to freshen up, just standin’ around in ankle socks, my undies, a workout T. My body gets me where I want to go, lifts a lot of weight, plays sports well. Nothing wrong with my body, I’ve just got to lose some baby fa….aaaa….aa….a…..t!”

Clint became rigid with shock. Of all the things he’d seen this night, somehow he knew this was a sign more weirdness was to come, and probably not to his liking. But as much as he knew he didn’t want to see this, as much as he wanted to go get some bars and correct all of it, he was transfixed, sitting on the wooden bench watching the now petrified Trey as he started to turn slightly blue, red, and purple, with veins popping out, and low grunts coming out of his mouth.

At first all he saw was Trey standing there quivering a little. Clint thought maybe Trey was having a heart attack or suffocating. Then, it happened. A faint little tearing sound began to be heard over the din of the silence that filled the locker room.

Rip………rip………rip rip….. rip rip rip…… rip riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!

It was coming from below him, and Clint looked down to see Trey’s feet expanding. The cloth that was Trey’s socks was becoming tighter and tighter against an ever expanding set of dogs. Slowly Trey’s toes inched out further and further, also spreading out wider and wider. They began their journey a few inches away from the edge of a floor tile, while the partnered heel was resting on the edge of the opposite side. Small tears began around the ankle, eventually being joined by some along the toes, and then new ones exploding open on the sides. The hem of the sock kept widening further and further open and foot grew longer and thicker, dragging the hem down to the top of the arch, across the Achilles tendon, over the heel, and eventually under the ball of the foot.

All this time, Trey had been moaning, groaning, screaming in pain. When he became silent, Clint looked up at him and then back down at the foot and realized those puppies had grown monstrously huge. A single foot of Trey’s now extended a tile and forth of the 12 inch square gym tiles. Clint secretly wished and hoped that all the was happening was Trey was developing abnormally sized feet, but the grunting from this young man began to happen again.

Looking up in horror, Clint watched as Trey suddenly began to ascend in height. His head going up further and further. It used to come up about seven-eighths of the way up a locker and now was fast approaching the top. Further and further he went, up and up and up…. Clint’s eyes widened as he watched Trey’s t-shirt hem slowly rise up and up above the thighs, above the hips, above the waist, above the belly button. Not only that but he saw the hem of Trey’s underwear slowly and slightly move down the waist to rest more on the hips, exactly on the hips and barely that. Trey was also broad, his shoulders being almost as broad as two lockers wide, but the worst part of that was, currently Trey was almost a stick figure, the baby fat having melted off of him. Well, stick figure being too thin, for Trey’s thin was a very thick raw bone. That, however, was soon to be taken care of.

Clint looking up at Trey’s face, which now stood almost head and shoulders above the lockers, was beginning to sway slightly back and forth. But it wasn’t his head actually doing it, as Clint began to realize when he looked down Trey’s body. Having begun a grunting again, Trey’s body was going through more transformation: his calves were pumping and pumping, almost breathing, out so far then slightly down, but not as small as they were. Ouuuuut… and in. OUUUUUUUUUT and in……OUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT and in. Not to be outdone, his thighs started responding, pops here, pops there, every second a new tear drop from a different angle forming on the what would become tree trunk sized columns. And each time they grew larger, plumped out fuller, a mighty cable beginning to form between the calves and the thighs behind the knees, his stance had to keep adjusting wider, and wider, and wiiiiider.

From there the thickness spread to Trey’s butt, making it fill out more, but pull in tight, into a nice muscular round bubble. This caused his underwear to pull into becoming amazingly tight and the waistband hanging very low. And then it continued up his torso. Before his very eyes Clint could see Trey’s stomach rolling and rolling, gathering and bunching and where once there was an outline of abs, maybe, there was now a cobblestone road of eight solid bricks. Then the thickening continued up the back, lats, and shoulders pushing the already broad young man out further, further, FURTHER, Broader, BROAAAADER, WIIIIIIIIDER! And the shoulders that were one and half lockers wide spread out to around what seemed like three and a half and the shirt, not quite having a chest to impede it yet, rose up slightly higher on the abs and the shirt sleeve hems rode up all the way to the middle of the delts. Yet, as the thickness then spread down the arms, filling out the biceps and triceps like great balloons filling up with liters and liters of blood, muscle, tissue, and veins, it started the shirt on it’s path of hopelessness as it began shredding the arms in horrific fashion.

And then the neck and chest began to swell. Trey’s neck swelling up thicker, and thicker, with mad shoulders mounding up higher and higher to meet them until it seemed the base of his neck stuck out farther on each side of his head than his ears did. But who cared about that development when the shirt now tight from all other directions began to show the formation of mounds, crescent moons, plates, platters, inflated disks of raw stripped, stripped, cut, striated muscle mounding up more and more so that looking directly from below, Clint could no longer see Trey’s face. Eventually the shirt just gave a small scream as it split solidly just one straight line down the front, and a thousand smaller tears everywhere else, simply shredding off of Trey’s body.

If that was not enough there was still one last part of the show. The part that explained to Clint why Trey was the odd baby looking yet semi-man sized dude. Trey was massive as a child and despite his current height of 5’ 11”–6’, Trey was a late bloomer, one of those that didn’t develop until somewhere between his junior year of high school to his sophomore year of college. Slowly Trey’s grunts began to come out lower and lower and lower, deeper, more resonant, and one again the ripping sound started and Clint knew there was only one place left where this was going to happen, Trey’s groin. Looking down Clint saw the super tight briefs on Trey begin to balloon and swell, first underneath by a pair of balls that were becoming massive and doing everything in their power to hang lower, lower, LOWER, HEAVIER, and second by a dick that already looked ample, but now looked like one of the hot dog balloons being instantly blown up. Being caught up in the briefs though, it had nowhere to go, or grow, and so it curved in on itself and Clint watched as the packed just suddenly swelled out more and more reaching at least around 12 flaccid. At that point the briefs could no longer hold out and they shred, simultaneously as they fell away, hair sprouted all over Trey’s massive balls as the sunk down, up to the base of his shaft as it swelled erect, down his thighs, over his calves, across his feet, up his abs, across his chest, over his forearms, finally springing out into a massive five o’clock shadow that resembled most men’s two day growth.

Trey, started to come around, attempting to take a few steps forward to get his bearings. Clint jumped back in reaction, forgetting he was sitting on the bench, and fell over backwards. Looking up from the floor he could see a slightly smaller hulking figure standing next to his head. It was Ed II.

“Hello, who do we have here?” said Trey, looking very excited, appreciative and horny.

Suddenly the strange bell sound went off and Ed II looked up at Trey and suddenly his features changed somewhat. In the face it looked like he had aspect of both Ed and maybe a little of Trey’s now, but his eyes became a deep, dark, blue, and his hair suddenly became as black as night. Standing motionless it looked like he was trying to think of something to do. Something to say.

“Well, c'mon sailor. You’re standing there all nude and handsome, ya should introduce yourself.”

And slowly he stuttered, “I… I… Ic… Ic… a… Ike… Ike Annoit”

“Nice to meet you Ike. Would you like to join us in a really randy moment?”

And again Clint’s eyes opened wide…..

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