While he sat on the plane, he contemplated the twists and turns his life had taken. He had joined the army to become a man -- to put on some muscle and get into shape. The super-soldier experiment had certainly done that. That experiment ended when a civilian destroyed the government lab and all the documents from the project. The civilian also did something to his Sergeant -- something terrible.

After his discharge from the Army, he took up the quest of finding a cure for his Sergeant. That required travel. At first, it was a battle with the airlines. They wanted him to pay for two or three seats because the one was too small. They said his size inconvenienced other passengers. Hell, it was he that was inconvenienced. He'd have none of their attempts to profiteer. Sometimes, they would threaten to cancel his ticket, or make him take a later plane. Amos's reaction was always the same. He'd put down whatever he was carrying and remove any jacket he had on. He always wore a plain white tank top -- a wife beater, which clung to his huge muscles like a second skin. He'd give them a second to take in his massive body, watching the way their eyes would widen as they stared at the way his pecs hung firm over his taught stomach. He'd see their eyes move to they side, tracing the outline of his robust shoulders and inhumanly large arms. That's when he'd start his show. First, he'd flare his back, making his already huge upper body look bigger. Then, he'd raise his arms and thump them on the counter, flexing them, making sure his hardened mass was clearly visible to the clerk. Then he'd say in his most authoritarian voice, "No, I don't think so. Why don't you check again. I'm sure YOU can find some accommodation for ME." Normally this worked. Twice it didn't.

Once, the clerk thought himself some bodybuilder or power lifter or something. He actually tried to intimidate Petrowski. Amos still laughs at the thought of the guy kneeling at his feet, begging Amos not to hurt him (more). The next time was less fun. They called security and Petrowski had to flash the card the Army gave him when he discharged, just in case he ever got into trouble. The card said to call a secret DIA number and that cleared everything up real fast. Now, when he books a flight, the airlines must have it in their computer to give him extra room. Giving him three seats helps somewhat, but there still isn't enough leg room.

It's been two and half years since the civilian destroyed the government's program to create a super soldier and Petrowski started his quest. The civilian had injected something into Detrick, his Sergeant. Detrick was a massively powerful man, but whatever the civilian had done destroyed that. Detrick was still hugely muscled, but the doctor's said that the impulses from his brain had been disrupted. He was paralyzed, unable to move. His muscles were limp masses of beef. Petrowski had tricked the Sergeant, overdosing on growth formula to out-muscle him. Now, Petrowski felt guilt at his condition. He was determined to hunt down the civilian or someone else who could help the man, restore him to his powerful self.

The plane landed, and Petrowski considered his next moves. Petrowski knew about the City University and its undefeated football team. He knew about their star player. The kid was a one-man football team, a total muscle powerhouse. The bio-genetics program at the university had a program in muscle growth, and he suspected that the football team was the benefactor of that research success. Petrowski also knew that the star player, one Jonny Romero, was the key to unlocking their secrets.

Petrowski had met other men who had experimented with muscle growth. Some had taken conventional steroids. Others had developed machines or drugs to stimulate hyper growth. None could compete with his power. Petrowski looked forward to the challenge of this kid.

The plane pulled up to the gate, and Petrowski stood up. It felt good to stretch his legs, just as it would feel good to bring this Romero kid down to size.

--

Today was the day. It was the day the new football team would be chosen. Jonny had lived through this day 3 times before. Now, in his senior year, it would be his last time. He had no fear, he had been the star of the team for the last two years, and he'd be the star this year. The reflection he saw in the mirror told him that was true.

The first time, Jonny was nervous. He wasn't sure he'd make it. That's when everything changed. Jonny learned he had been selected for the team, and he learned about the experiment. The thought of the experiment brought a smile to Jonny's face. For him, the success of the experiment exceeded anyone's expectations.

Since then, Jonny was the main attraction for the new team. Jonny was the pinnacle of what the experiment could achieve. Well, at least, what Mark, the head scientist and his academic advisor, would say publicly. Jonny knew better, but he enjoyed playing along. For all anyone knew, Jonny was the biggest, strongest, most-muscular player that City University, or any football team for that matter, had ever seen.

The experiment changed something else. It gave him a goal in life. Jonny's goal was to get bigger. He wanted to be stronger and more muscular than he already was. That meant studying, learning all he could about enhancing muscle growth. He set himself to learning all he could about the process Mark and others had created. He studied physiology and bio-chemistry. Not only was he a star on the football field, he became a star in the classroom too. When he was selected to do an honor's thesis, there was no question what the topic would be and who his advisor would be.

"I want to work on enhancing the growth serum," he told Mark last spring. Of course, Mark agreed. Jonny was his protege.

Jonny had changed in other ways since his freshman year. His lust for muscle no longer made him envious of the other supermen Mark had created. In fact, they were his friends now. Instead, he turned that lust toward his determination to grow bigger. He had completed the experiment as a mere wisp of a man, only 1250 pounds of totally huge, hard muscle. When Adam and Brett graduated, they opened a gym in town and Jonny regularly trained there, bulking up to his current 1700 pounds of mass. Everyone was surprised at his determination to force himself to grow even bigger, but Jonny's lust for muscle had no limits. He would grow. He loved showing up for football practice with hundreds of pounds of new muscle, awing the coach. He was an unstoppable force on the field. Off the field, his desire for more was insatiable.

Over the summer, he worked in the lab and on the computer, doing his research and conducting experiments. Things were going well and Mark was pleased. In the evenings, he worked at Adam's gym, training others and making himself bigger and stronger. Adam's clients were in awe of his massive size and incredible strength. They would stare as the weights and machines that they would struggle with would yield to Jonny's power. They also appreciated what a genuinely nice guy he was, never to busy to offer a spot or give some advice. Well, he was nice most of the time. One thing Jonny learned not to appreciate was show offs.

Jonny thought about one time in the locker room. It was right after he started working there. He was working the desk for Adam, watching the clients. One guy caught his eye. The guy was big, well, not compared to Jonny, but for a normal guy, he was big. Probably about 250 or 260, six foot with a massive pec shelf and thin waist. His thighs had to be about 31 inches. Strong too, for a normal guy. None of this really mattered to Jonny. What caught his eye was that this guy was a real asshole, showing off, intimidating the other clients and hogging the weights. Jonny knew the type. Hell, he had been that type. That's probably why he hated it so much -- it reminded him of darker, more juvenile days.

So, he watched this guy as he "worked in" on some smaller dudes, pushing them out of the way so he could use a bench or a machine, flexing his muscles in a show of superiority. He watched as he worked with the heaviest weights he can lift, calling attention to his strength. He snickered to himself as the guy flexed, lifting his workout shirt to check his eight-pack or when he got a surprised look because his tight shirt began to rip when he flared his lats. The final straw for Jonny was when the guy was walking into the locker room. Of course, he stripped his shirt off before he got there, that was to be expected from this guy. It was when he grabbed at his crotch, hefty the heavy equipment in his hand. "Damned jocks are so fucking constraining. Why can't they make them for use guys with REAL meat."

That was too much for Jonny. He got someone to watch the desk, telling them there was, "a problem I need to take care of." He followed the guy into the locker room. He knew what he'd find, and he was right.

There were five or six guys in the locker room. They weren't bodybuilders, but regular clients who use the gym to get fit or lose weight. The show off was in the middle of the room, putting on a performance. He was naked, looking in the mirror, flexing. His cock was soft, but hung a good nine and a half inches down his leg. The other guys were catching glances in that glance-but-try-not-to-glance kinda way. They were uncomfortably hiding their own meat which didn't stack up. The show off knew he had what they wanted, and he was taking advantage of it.

Jonny walked over to his locker and removed the lock. Like the others, he didn't look directly at the show off, catching glances of him from the corner of his eye. Jonny stripped off his shirt and wrapped a towel around his waist before removing his shorts.

The show off found his target. His donkey cock began to expand and rise at the site of the hugely muscled jock. He wandered past Jonny to his locker, making sure his huge organ bobbed and weaved in front of him. Jonny continued to catch glances as the show off grabbed a towel, obviously taking longer than necessary, twisting and flexing more than was required. Jonny stood and walked toward the common showers, removing his towel after he took a corner shower.

The show off followed Jonny into the shower. His towel was tossed over his shoulder, his hefty cock bouncing between his bodybuilder legs. Seeing Jonny had the same effect it had last time. The man's nine and a half inches thickened and grew, passing ten inches in length. It stood like a divining rod in front of him at it's eleven-plus inch erect length.

Jonny peeked at the man, then turned and faced the wall. The show off grinned. "Wow, you are a big guy, aren't you. Damn, your arms are bigger than my legs!"

"Way bigger," agreed Jonny, who continued to soap himself up, not looking at the other man. Jonny flexed his arm a bit, showing the guy some size, getting him more turned on by Jonny's superior muscle.

"Ya, I got a good workout today. Probably not as good as yours, but damned good for me. Always makes me horny though." The guy looked down at his stiff rod. "Like with muscle, if you got it flaunt it, right?" The show off laughed. "And I got it there. My bods good too, work hard on it. Not in your league, but other things make up for that." The guy smiled and began to soap his cock, stroking it with soapy lather. "Ya, this big one is something special."

Jonny grunted.

"Hey dude, it's OK. I see you peeking. Nothing to be ashamed about. Most guys are smaller than me down there." The show off gave a long stroke of his fat, long dick and smiled.

Jonny had had enough. "Ya, most guys are kinda small. You've got a nice one, that's for sure, but there are bigger guys." Jonny turned and faced him, his 15 inches hanging soft down his massive thigh. Jonny extended a leg, flexing it hard, his soft cock flopping to find the divide between Jonny's pillar-sized thighs.

The show off stared. Jonny took a step forward and hefted his meat in his hand, mentally measuring his cock against the other guy's. "Hey, looks like I'm bigger soft than you are hard!" exclaimed Jonny, feigning surprise. "Guess that violates stereotypes, doesn't it? I got all this huge muscle," Jonny flexed his arm, which erupted into into high peaks and deep cords, "and I got a dick that's twice as big as yours!"

A shudder ran through the show off's body, and his dick jerked at the thought of such a large member and Jonny's overall masculinity. Jonny began to soap his massive meat as the guy stared, a sliver of drool running out of the corner of his mouth. With a sudden jerk, the guy looked up, wide-eyed and red faced, then turned toward the wall. Jonny watched him for a few seconds, then continued with his shower. The show off didn't say anything else. When he left, he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist. Jonny did the same.

In the locker room, the show off changed quickly and left. Jonny got dressed and returned to the desk, thanking the guy who subbed for him. "Problem's fixed now."

A few minutes later, one of the customers who was in the locker room was leaving. He stopped over to the desk. "Thanks for shutting that asshole up," he said with a wink.

"No problem," replied Jonny.

Ya, it was no problem for Jonny to be bigger than anyone else in any number of ways.

Jonny's thoughts returned to what was occurring outside the team's locker room. He listened. The coach had just introduced Mark. The kids were going to learn about the experiment. Jonny would be introduced in a few minutes. He peeled off his shirt and slipped on a pair of posing shorts.

"I'm sure you know of our star player, Jonny Romero," he heard Mark say. "Jonny has had the greatest exposure to the growth formula. Jonny, come out and meet your new team members."

Jonny adjusted his massive package. 'If you got it, flaunt it,' he thought with a laugh. Jonny walked out and looked at the small men. He had to admit, he did like the deer-in-headlights looks he got from these kids. They had never imagined a man could have so much muscle. He heard one kid say something about 'The Incredible Hulk', but Jonny knew he was bigger than that. These kids looked up to him, and he knew that they wanted to grow almost as much as he did. •