By no name

Yes, I admit it. I had been one of those guys who had complained about cell phones, who had maintained that they were useless, and who had ridiculed the people who bought one. And yes, I admit, I was about to buy one myself now.

I hadn't really spent much time looking at ads or websites about cell phones, so I had only the vaguest idea of what kind of mobile I wanted, or where I wanted to buy one. I was walking down the street, wondering how much money such a thing would cost, and suddenly realized that I had stopped in front of a shop which had several cell phones on display. One of them - the "Special of the Day" - caught my eye. It looked kind of old-fashioned, but 20$ didn't seem a lot of money, so I went inside the store and asked the good-looking, brown-eyed guy behind the counter what the special was all about.

"Oh, somebody brought it in yesterday and said he didn't want it anymore. It's not new, but it's still working. Obviously, it doesn't have the latest technology, but then again," he said, shrugging, "it comes cheap."

I decided that I didn't need a zillion gimmicks which I'd never use anyway; I wanted to make phone calls and perhaps send my boyfriend a message from time to time, and an old cell phone would do just fine. I went through the whole administrative process of registering, signing stuff, and signing more stuff. After giving the guy his twenty bucks, I left the store and went home.


I sat down at my desk, browsed through the manual and began to set my preferences. I typed in the phone numbers of my family and friends, I activated this and deleted that, I switched on the power user option and finally adjusted the speaker volume.

I hadn't told anybody that I was going to buy a cell phone, and now I felt like surprising a few people. First, of course, I had to call my boyfriend and tell him that I had now officially entered the next stage of human evolution.

"Hello?" Puzzled.


"Hi. Ahm. Who is this?"

"It's me."


"Hey beautiful. Guess who bought a cell-phone."

First, he was floored. Then, predictably, he made fun of me, reminding me of solemn oaths to never yield to the pressure of such a consumerist fad, to never stoop down so low as to yaddayadda. I weathered his mockery bravely, then told him I wanted to see him as soon as possible in order to "celebrate", he got my meaning and said he would try to leave work earlier, we exchanged some of those remarks which seem silly to everybody except to people who are in love, then said goodbye and hung up. Immediately, a message popped up on the screen of my phone:


I couldn't remember reading anything about these power user points in the manual, so I decided to check up on it. I went through both the table of contents and the index, but couldn't find anything about it. I was wondering whether I should go back to the store tomorrow and ask the guy there when another message appeared. I picked up the phone from the table and read the message.


Suddenly, the phone began to glow, and I felt something like an electric current run through my hand, up my arm and through my entire body. I tried to drop the phone but couldn't, it seemed glued to my hand. I was starting to sweat profusely, and I could hear myself breathing heavily. I pulled at the collar of my shirt and realized that it was wrapped much too tightly around my neck.

I looked down and almost cried out in surprise when I saw that the outline of my pecs was clearly showing through the fabric of my shirt. I watched in awe as my pecs continued to inflate and lifted my hand to trace the outline of the growing muscles on my chest. My attention was distracted briefly to my biceps when I realized that it was swelling too, growing bigger and more muscular like the rest of my arm and, with the help of my ballooning triceps, increasingly filling up the sleeves of my shirt. I started flexing my arms, watching the muscles bulge, and I took a deep breath in order to make my chest look even bigger. I realized that bigger was obviously too big for my shirt when two buttons popped off simultaneously, a fact which made my already considerable hard-on throb just a little more intensively.

I got up, almost giddy with the feeling of increasing strength and size, and turned my attention towards my legs, which were struggling for room inside my helplessly overextended pants. I could feel my quads blowing up, pushing against each other and forcing me to adjust my stance. I moaned when the fabric finally gave way, my pants splitting apart at the seams, torn to shreds by the pulsing mass of muscle on my legs.

Another button popped off my shirt, and out of the corner of my eyes I saw my broadening shoulders tear through the dark blue cotton fabric. I shrugged my shoulders, which caused the growing muscles in my back to bulge out even more and made them burst through my shirt as well.

I had been wearing a white t-shirt under my blue shirt, and already it was stretched tightly across my ballooning chest, making my nipples clearly visible through the fabric. I kept on moaning, feeling my arms being pushed away from my body by my swelling lats. Once more I adjusted my stance to make room for the growing muscles on my legs, and then realized that I hadn't even checked out how the change had affected my stomach so far. I lifted up my shirt and gasped at the sight of my incredibly clear-cut eight-pack, which was still growing harder and more pronounced with each passing second. I flexed my arms and roared with the feeling of incredible power.

My dick must have been growing as well because the next thing I heard was the sound of my hard-on ripping through my underwear and the remains of my pants which were hanging losely from my hip. I began to stroke myself, feeling my dick throb in my hands just as my whole body was throbbing with growth and size. Back and forth I moved my hips, pushing and pushing while more and more muscle was packed on my incredibly huge frame.

My excitement grew and grew until I couldn't take it anymore, and just as my t-shirt finally lost its fight, just as my muscles exploded through the thightly stretched fabric, I finally came, loads of cum spurting from my raging hard-on for what seemed like minutes, and I could hear myself roaring with pleasure while a final wave of growth added a few more pounds of muscle to my incredible bodybuilder-like physique.


For a while, I just stood there panting, overwhelmed by the experience of growth I had just had, but then I recovered and decided that I wanted to know just how much muscle I had gained. I went to the bathroom, paused quickly in front of the mirror in order to admire the bulging mounds of muscle, to watch my pecs bouncing and to flex my arms for a little while, and then stepped on the scale. I weighed 382 pounds, exactly 206 pounds more than half an hour ago.

I started when I suddenly heard a sound coming from the living room, but then realized that it was only my new cell phone ringing. I ran back to my desk, almost stumbling because I wasn't used to the huge amount of muscle on my legs yet, and they simply kept getting in each other's way. Still, I managed to reach the phone in time, picked it up and said, perhaps a little too loudly: "Hello?"

"Hey, you don't need to shout. I just wanted to tell you that I'll have to finish this project before I can come home, so I'll be another hour or so. Is that okay?"

I swallowed hard. How would I explain to my boyfriend that I had turned from a regular guy into the huge muscular hunk that I was now? How would I stop him from going crazy, from running away screaming when he saw what an incredible change I had gone through, when he learned that his boyfriend had stopped being an average person and now had the looks of a competitive bodybuilder instead?

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, I was..." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say.

"Is everything alright?"

I just couldn't think of an excuse, or of an explanation that wouldn't make him think that I had gone nuts, so I mumbled something about an exciting idea I was working on, talking way too much, and in the end told John that I would be waiting for him.

"Okay, by then, handsome."

He hung up. I shook my head, trying to clear my head, when I got a message on my phone.


Slowly, I realized what this message meant.


I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and prepared myself for what was to come. •

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