Growing for the Team


By musclpkg

"Impossible," Mr. Skeen breathed, eyeing the 666 on the waistband of Hal's jock. He looked up at Hal again. "The numbers only go up to –"

"Ah, but nothing's impossible, Mr. Skeen," Hal said, still smiling. And with that, Hal stepped back, and began to grow.

The growth seemed to begin at his navel and radiate its way outward. First the abs, already so tight and defined on the young athlete, seemed to buckle and thicken. They bulged out individually like cobblestones packed into too small a space; the skin stretched and tightened yet more to sink deep into the intervening crevasses. The navel popped out into even greater relief as the burgeoning abdominal muscles left even less room under the skin for its tight protruding knot. Hal's waist, instead of getting wider to accommodate the new breadth of muscle packing into his midsection, instead got narrower, compressing the muscle even further; his previously subtle obliques bulged into two wrist-thick cables of muscle that formed an exquisite V-shape arrowing down toward his crotch. The jock waistband tightened as well to hug what now must have been only a 26" inch waist, and two thick pulsing veins plunged over the flat triangular plane of his lower abs to disappear beneath the waistband.

Mr. Skeen watched from his knees in complete astonishment as the growth radiated up the boy's thickening trunk. The top two ab bricks in the now inhumanly defined 8-pack were almost twice as wide as the bottom two that framed his navel, and to each side now popped a stunning ridged staircase of serrata and intercostals, cascading in two savage downward arcs to define the front side of the boy's widening lats. Hal raised one arm to expose his blond armpit and highlight the gorgeous geometry of the muscles of his side, the skin again tightening to near transparency and suctioning down over the corrugated muscle contours like a living layer of latex.

Hal's pecs were next. Already two hard squared-off plates of teenage wrestler muscle, they now seemed to almost jump forward with new thickness, and to crowd suddenly to the sides against his simultaneously thickening biceps. His chest mounded outward with unbelievable mass, new layers of fibrous muscle seeming to insert themselves repeatedly just beneath the skin, radiating down and out from the collarbone and forcing the boy's pecs ever thicker and wider. The previously well-defined groove separating the two halves of chest muscle grew narrower and narrower and at the same time deeper and deeper, until finally the two hemispheres were forced together leaving only a tightly-pressed cleft between them. Mr. Skeen watched as the boy's flat oval nipples lifted themselves from the plane of the pec muscle and coned up into two firm, rosy-brown muscle tits, which now slowly rolled under the edge of the pec muscle as it began to overhang his ripped, vascular midsection, so that they were pointing toward the floor.

The growth continued to radiate up and out: Hal's shoulders broadened and mounded up into melon-sized delts, the fibers twitching and multiplying, the separate heads of the delt clearly defined by deep clefts under his apparently shrinking skin; his neck thickened into a wide, deep column of muscle and tendon, supported on each side by thick, humped up traps that kept rising, hardening and rising again until they seemed to originate just below his earlobes. And from those huge shoulders, Hal's defined, sinewy arms were exploding in a symphony of growth, the twin heads of the bicep and tripartite members of the tricep all fighting for supremacy between elbow and shoulder, wrapping his upper arm in unbelievably thick and defined layers of muscle which mounded and peaked one on top of the next like so many boulders stuffed under the skin.

Needless to say, the growth had radiated downward as well. Out from Hal's exaggeratedly narrow hips now flared a pair of quads that were at least as wide – no, wider – than his waist: 30-inch trunks of muscle that were divided into 12 or 15 separate strands, which intertwined and braided with each other like so many sleek pythons moving under his skin. His huge thighs knotted and released and thickened and tensed in an orgy of explosive leg growth, forcing Hal to widen his stance as they met in the center and forced his legs apart. The huge trunks of leg muscle tapered severely down to the knee, where they temporarily gave way to the beautiful complex joint structure of bone and tendon; before flaring again into thick, bulging calf-muscles – twin double-headed, deep-notched diamond- shaped blocks of concrete.

Mr. Skeen's eyes hardly knew where to feast. Everything, arms, chest, abs, legs, was netted in an exquisite latticework of veins, from pencil-thick to needle-thin, all raised above the skin's taut surface and firm to the finger's touch, pulsing with muscle-feeding blood. His eyes finally settling again at the center, he saw that the mysterious jockstrap had melted away, and now a set of genitalia that a bull would envy was lolling in front of the striated mass of his thighs -- semi-hard, thick and heavy with blood, like a sleeping python.

Finally, the growth was over. Mr. Skeen looked up at the apparition with dazed eyes; he felt his underwear full of his own semen. He looked up at the face, which was no longer Hal's face, but Dan Hall's. The cruelty, thought Mr. Skeen. He felt the tears sting his eyes again. Dan looked back down at Mr. Skeen. He brought his right arm up into a bicep curl and, with his wrist bent inward and fingers outstretched, massaged the leading head of his bicep, which pushed up into his palm like a hard, warm softball. "Ohhhh Mr. Skeen," he sighed, looking down at him with pity as he felt up his own unbelievable muscle, taking pleasure in it. "If you could only feel what I'm feeling now. How hard, warm, and living it is." He turned his gaze back to his own muscle, tracing a vein with his fingertip.

"But you said I could…" Mr. Skeen said, barely audible, nearly sobbing. "You said there was a deal..."

"Ah yes. Just one simple condition," the apparition said. He was absentmindedly milking the soft, wrist-thick cock that protruded from his ripped groin, making the heavy balls shift from side to side like a sack of ripe avocados.

"Anything," Mr. Skeen breathed.

"I will give you a lifetime of unimaginable muscle pleasure --" the Dan-thing said, as its huge, veined cock rose to full hardness – the size of a normal man's forearm, with a dripping, plum-purple, fist- sized head, "-- if you will give me your immortal soul when you die." •

This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.

Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.

Archive Version 070326