By Corwin

"What happened!" screamed Perkins. "What did you do!" He pushed the soldier to the side and pounded on the keyboard.

"I didn't..." started the soldier.

"Shut up you incompetitent boob. Get out! Damn you!" The soldiers ran from the room as Perkins explored the fried circuitry. "All that data, lost." He turned toward the android. "I don't suppose you'd tell me where the backups are."

"No," said Derek.

Dr. Perkins scowled. "I guess we'll have to do something about that, then." He turned and headed toward the door. "Detrick, you're with me," he commanded. The sargent followed.

As he walked, Perkins spoke. "Detrick, I need that data. That man Hal, he modified the formula somehow. When we spoke earlier, you said it took all ten of you to subdue Tim."

"Yes, Dr. Perkins," replied Detrick.

"Tell me more."

"Not much to tell. We were prepared for someone exposed to the serum. We weren't prepared for him, though."

"Yes, our assumption that you're greater exposure would yield a superior fighting force does seem to be wrong," said Perkins.

"Dr. Perkins, may I speak freely?" asked the sargent.

"Yes, sargent."

"I like being the biggest, baddest grunt around. It's why I'm in charge of these goof-offs, right?"

"Your genetic affinity for the formula did have an impact on that decision, yes," said Perkins.

"Well, I didn't like it when I couldn't take that guy down. I've been beaten up before, but since I volunteered for your experiment, I've come to like being the big guy. I like the respect I get when someone sees this body. I like watching the effect I have on them -- the intimidatation, the awe. I like going to they gym and lifting more than anyone else, watching the other guys gawk at these muscles. I know they're jealous and I like that," said Detrick.

"That's why we need to find out what he did to Tim Hunter. Once we understand that, I'll be able to do it to you. Then, you'll be able to squash Mr. Hunter like a fly."

Detrick smiled. "When do we start?"

"Hal Clarke is the key. It's his modifications. We need to make him talk."

Detrick made a fist and slammed it into his open palm. He sqeezed on the fist, cracking the knuckles. "I can make him talk," said Detrick. "If Hunter's been protecting him, well, that's taken care of. He can't get out of the locks he's in now. Give me a few minutes with that Hal, and..." Detrick rubbed a hand over his 36 inch bicep.

"It may come to that, but first I want to try something else." Perkins had reached his office, and the pair stopped outside his door. "First, I want you to check the video security. I want to know everything they are doing and everything they say. Come back to my office when you're through."

Detrick walked away and Perkins stepped into his office. He closed the door. He pulled out a book on interrogation techniques and looked up truth drugs. He knew he would need something powerful to get what he wanted.

Soldiers came and went from the room where Tim and the android were kept. They seemed to be testing some equiment or looking at the results of Tim's blood work. After an hour, Detrick came in with the nine other big soldiers. One was carrying what looked to be a bazooka.

"Dr. Perkins wants to run some more tests," said Detrick. He walked over to Dereck and undid his restraints. Four soldiers walked to either side of Tim, and the soldier with the bazooka aimed it at Tim. Detrick approached the device restraining Tim. "I'm going to unlock you, but we don't want any trouble. One false move and soldier Farrington there has orders to shoot." Detrick typed something into a keypad, and the beams rose with a 'shwoop'.

Tim sat up and flexed his forearms, then stretched his back, shoulders and chest. "You couldn't make that less comfortable, could you?" he retorted.

Detrick threw a large pair of shorts at Tim. "Put those on," he said.

Tim bent over, twisting a bit to show off his defined intercostals. As he stepped into the shorts, he flexed his thighs and calves, putting on an obvious display for the soldiers. He flared his lats as he pulled them over his calves. He stopped when he got to his knees, adjusting the legs over the massive sweep of his quads and hamstrings. "Bit tight," he said. He played up his struggle to get the shorts over his enormous legs, glancing at the soldiers who couldn't hide their awe at his size. "Uncomfotable beds. Too small shorts. Guess that's my tax dollars at work," complained Tim.

Eight soldiers approached Tim, grabbing his arms and forcing him forward. "This way," Detrick ordered, leading them into the hallway, then into a large room. It looked like gym. Dr. Perkins was there with several other people. The new people wore white coats and looked like technicians of some sort.

After a minute, Perkins looked at the soldiers. "Good. You're here. Let's get started." Perkins walked over to Tim. "Now Mr. Hunter, would you mind if we got some information from you."

Tim grunted, "Do I have a choice?"

"Well, it would be easier with your cooperation," said Perkins. "How old are you?"



"Seven foot one last time I checked."

Perkins raised an eyebrow. "Well, we can check that. Weight?"

"Don't know. Maybe 500," said Tim.

"Hmmm... well no time like the present. Would you mind stepping on this scale?" It looked like a standard hospital scale, with a beam to measure height. Tim walked over and got on. One of the technicians adjusted the counter-balances. Perkins read off the number, "Looks like you're about 678 pounds, Mr. Hunter." The technician moved the bar to measure Tim's height, "and 7 foot 2 and 3/4 inches."

Tim smiled. "Guess I grew," he said.

"Yes, it looks that way. Now, we'd like to get some other measurements if we could. Let's start with your arm. I read in Sargent Detrick's report that your arms are 45 inches. Is that flexed or unflexed?"

"Flexed," Tim said.

"Can we see? My assistant will measure them."

The assistant wrapped a tape around Tim's right arm and noted the unflexed number. It was 42. Tim flexed, and his mountainous bicep rose, it's peak hard and defined. The tape seemed to whir as it moved to accomidate the massive mound that had formed. Perkins looked at the number.

"Looks more like 49 now, Mr. Hunter."

Tim looked at Detrick and smiled slyly. "Guess I'm bigger than I thought. Hey sarge, that's like a foot more than you got on those twigs of yours, right?"

Tim watched Detrick as the technician read off the numbers. The last treatment had caused Tim to put on more size, though not as much as in the past. Detrick scowled at Tim's 135 inch chest and lat spread. "How big is yours, sarge?" Tim mocked.

"The sargent has a 90 inch chest," said Perkins in a clincal voice.

When the technican informed him his thigh had broken 100, Tim shook his quads then flexed them into massive relief. Detrick had an angry look on his face. It got worse when Tim flexed his 41 inch waist, each of ten rocks with an inches deep valley between them.

"Mr. Hunter, it's getting a bit late, but if we could have your cooperation for several more tests. We've got a machine that measures bicep strength. Would you mind impressing us?" Dr. Perkins pointed at what looked like a cable curl machine, but it had thick hydraulics attached to it. "We've set the machine up to automatically adapt to your strength."

Tim positioned himself at the machine. He cranked out four reps with ease before the machine gaged his titanic strength. The fifth was a bit hard, and he began to struggle with the sixth. He felt a pulsing in his balls, like the beat of his heart. Then he felt a sudden surge of power. He hadn't depleted the growth chemical. It hit him like a tidal wave, and his mind revelled in the desire to grow bigger and stronger. He forced the sixth rep up, then a seventh. His enormous arms pumped larger, getting stronger. He smelled something like burning rubber or oil as the hydraulics tried to overrule his power. Once again it was machine against muscle and Tim was determined that muscle would win. At the tenth rep, Tim was sweating and the machine was making a whining noise. He heard someone say something about safety limits, but his concentration was on making his muscle contract, not on the people around him. Tim felt another wave of strength over take him and he jerked the bar up. There was a sound of metal breaking from the machine. Suddenly, there was no more resistance on the bar.

Tim closed his eyes and came down from the euphoria he felt from his recent growth. He turned to Perkins. "Looks like you need a stronger machine," he said. Tim flexed his arm. "Looks like they're over 50 now," he said.

"Uhm, yes," said Perkins. "We may have to repeat that test tomorrow on a different machine." Perkins turned to the technicians and whispered something. There was some back and forth between them, then Perkin said aloud, "We'd like to go on with the tests for now. Mr Hunter, would you mind doing some bench presses?"

"Not at all," said Tim. His felt his cock and balls rub against his massive thighs. His balls did seem swollen, so he knew there was more power he could tap.

He positioned himself on the bench. Once again, he chugged out five reps with no problems. He felt his growth kick in on the seventh rep. His muscles felt electric, feeding on the power his body was producing. When his muscles said 'no more', Tim's mind and will power demanded that they go on. Each demand caused a surge of strength, more muscle growth. Tim felt his pecs bulge and press into each other, mountains meeting the bar at higher and higher locations as he pushed harder. Tim demanded more muscle, and he would have it. He would be bigger than all these so-called soldiers combined. No machine would win over him. He forced out a ninth rep, feeling the machine straining to contain his ever-growing power. Tim's mind demanded more from his muscles as they fought to overpower this device. There was a loud "grrrshshshs" as the machine's hydraulics exploded, unable to stop Tim.

Tim was sweating from pushing himself harder than ever before. He was rewarded for his effort by larger muscles. His pumped pecs brushed against his bulging bis as he stood and faced Detrick. Tim flexed into a crab pose and mouthed, 'impressive' as he watched the envy and hate in the sargent's eyes.

Dr. Perkins was huddled with the other technicians again. They seemed concerned. He heard someone talk about 'control' and 'still growing'. Perkins nodded, then turned to Tim. "That will be all for today, Mr. Hunter. Thank you. We may ask you to do some more tomorrow. Mr. Clarke, would you mind staying for a few minutes?"

"Yes he would," said Tim.

"Excuse me?" said Perkins, a tone of incredulity in his voice.

"Hal comes with me," said Tim.

"I don't think," started the doctor.

"I got a deal for you Dr. Perkins. One more test. If I win, Hal comes with me. If I lose, Hal can stay and he's yours," said Tim.

"you are in no position to," continued Perkins.

"Well I do think I'm in a position. Here's the deal. You accept this challenge, and I'll be a good boy. You don't, well, I get my test anyway. You see, I want to take on your little tin soldiers over there. Them against me. I win, Hal comes. I lose, Hal stays. You don't agree, I get to take them on anyway. The only difference is that I'll cooperate with you if you cooperate with me. That's the deal." Tim smiled and looked at Detrick.

"It's OK with me," said Detrick. "This civilian needs to be taken down a notch. My boys handled him yesterday, we can do it again today."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, but I don't see what choice we have. You have my permission to use all necessary force, Sargent Detrick." Perkins stepped back.

Detrick nodded to the soldiers. They looked eager to test Tim, and Tim was eager to show them who was in charge. The soldiers formed a circle around Tim, flexing their chests, lats and abs, cracking their knuckles and otherwise preparing for the battle ahead. Tim just stood their, eyes closed, tapping his inner strength. After a few seconds, he raised his hands and gestured 'bring it on' with his fingers.

The soldiers knew how to contain him. They came at him, four on either side and grabbed Tim's massive arms. Detrick slammed shoulder first into Tim's abs while another dropped kicked Tim's back. At the last second, Tim had flexed, and both men bounced off. Detrick rubbed his shoulder and the other man picked himself off the floor.

Tim looked at the eight men holding his arms. He smirked and said, "Prepared boys?" Tim began to flex, contracting his biceps and delts. The soldiers fought back with their own massive arms. There were eight arms to each of Tim's. The soldier's forearms burst into veins and rippling muscle. Their bis peaked and tris became massive horseshoes. The vien on the top of Tim's bicep became distended. Tim let out a yell as he felt power spread into his body once more. Slowly, his arms began to rise. The soldiers struggled, using their mass and strength in an effort to stop Tim, trying desperately to contain his strength with their own. Tim continued to raise his arms.

"Sarge, we need more help," said the blonde haired soldier. Detrick ran to the right, and the man who had kicked Tim to the left. They added their considerable might against Tim's arms. Tim's arms stopped moving, and began to be forced down.

Tim was prepared. He flexed his entire body, building up a surge of power (and growth). He held the flex for what seemed an eternity, and with a mighty yell, commanded his arms to rise.

The soldier's weren't prepared for what hit them. Tim's arms suddenly flew up, ten super-soldiers unable to contain the power he possessed. The men crashed into each other as they were pushed away by the might of Tim's arms.

As the soldiers recovered, they attacked Tim. Tim felt the rush of his new strength, his bigger muscles. He swatted each soldier down in turn. Their coordinated attacks became chaotic. The latino soldier made the mistake of trying to overpower Tim's grip, and there was a loud crack as his arm broke. Others were knocked unconscious or became too dazed to fight anymore. In the end, it was down to Tim and Detrick.

"Better give up, sarge, or Dr. Perkins won't have anyone to guard me," Tim said, ducking from a punch Detrick threw at his face.

"Fuck you! I'll take you," screamed Detrick running at Tim.

Tim grabbed him, and got Detrick in a bearhug. "Whoa, little man." Detrick struggled, but his arms were caught at his side. He tried to kick, but Tim's monster thighs absorbed the assault. Tim flexed, crushing Detrick's body with his muscles. Detrick tried to harden his muscles, but Tim was too strong. Detrick was having problems breathing as Tim's muscles crushed his body. "Give?" Tim finally asked, knowing he was about to break a few of Detrick's ribs.

"Ya...arg" Detrick gurgled.

Tim dropped Detrick. "Guess I finally impressed you," said Tim. He signaled to Derek, and the android followed. Technicians were attending to the wounded soldiers, but Detrick got up and followed Dr. Perkins. Tim walked back to his cell.

"Would you please get on the bed," Dr. Perkins asked, hoping Tim would keep his promise and cooperate. Tim did. Detrick secured the restraints.

"Get out of that, asshole," Detrick said, taking a pot shot at Tim's face while the bigger man was down. Tim flexed, but the restraints held. "Heh. I'll see you tomorrow." Detrick and Perkins left, locking the door behind them.

Derek sat in a chair, staring into space. Time passed. Eventually, Derek walked over to Tim. "Tim, I have to get you out of here."

"Uh, Hal, I don't think..."

"It is safe to talk Tim. They can't monitor us."

"Hal, there are video cameras and stuff all around us," said Tim, nodding toward a camera mounted to the ceiling.

"There is no problem Tim. It is safe. But Dr. Perkins wants the secret of your strength. He plans to drug me tomorrow. He believes me to be human for now, but we can't keep up that charade forever," explained the android.

"He wants to make those soldiers stronger, doesn't he?" Tim scowled.

"Yes. Detrick has been his best subject, and the two are planning on ways to make Detrick your superior. I know you don't want that. I know you want to be the biggest. You are, but I don't think you are yet strong enough to break out of here."

"Ya. If only there were..." Tim thought. Derek had said 'yet'. "Derek, can you make me strong enough?"

"Tim. I have concluded you are addicted to the growth drug. I'm afraid..."

"Derek, why do you think I'm addicted. I don't feel like I'm addicted. I'm not suffering any withdrawl. How did you reach this conclusion?" Tim asked.

Derek explained, "The original Hal noted changes in your behavior. The way you behaved in the gym under the influence of the drug. Your beligerant attitude when he questioned you. These are signs of the addiction."

"No, Derek. That's not it. This drug has given me what I've always wanted. Hal knew I never pushed myself hard enough in the gym to grow. He knew I wanted to be bigger, and he helped me with that. That's why he gave me the drug. When it happened, well, I've become lost in my fantasy. I am bigger, and I can get bigger. I like it. No, I love it. I want more. I know the more I push, the bigger I'll get. That's why I push harder and harder. I can never be big enough. I crave the size, the strength, the power with every fiber of my being. In my soul I know I can be bigger, and I'll work for that with every ounce of my being. The drug isn't addicting. It's my craving for muscle that drives me. If there is an addiction, then that's it. There is nothing wrong with this. I'm not hurting myself. I'm healthy, right?"

Derek paused, then said, "Yes, Tim. You are healthy."

Tim continued. "Have I ever heart anyone who wasn't trying to hurt me?"

"The soldiers are imprisoning you. Is that hurting you?"

"Yes, Derek. I do need to be free. I resented what Hal did, but eventually, I knew I could escape. I stayed because I wanted more. I stayed by my choice," Tim admitted, as if convincing himself of the truth.

"Then, no Tim. You have never hurt anyone."

"Derek, can you make me stronger?"

The android paused. He stared. "Yes Tim, we will help you. I can make you stronger. Your cells have aborbed the growth serum. I have a two week supply of the serum with me, internal to my structure. If I gave it to you all at once, your cells should become hyper-saturated with the growth formula. Hal had been unable to project your growth at the current level. I am also incapable of making those projections. But, there seems a good likelihood that your strength and size will be sufficient to overpower those restraints and allow you to escape. If you want, we can proceed."

Tim didn't need to think about it. He'd be bigger and stronger. That is what he always wanted. "What do you need me to do?"

"I have several reservoirs to process your semen with the drug. If you could produce as much semen as possible, that should be sufficient to deliver the serem. I am available to help you, as always," said Derek.

Tim nodded. The android approached. Tim imagined the real Derek, and kissed the robot. He was warm and tender. Tim became hard. He wasn't having sex with a machine, he was with his imaginary lover.

On their video monitors, the military guards saw Tim sleeping soundly on one bed, and Hal sleeping on another. The sound of sleep was all they heard. •

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