At 12, when puberty hit, it hit him hard. He had shin splints and growing pains like no one else had. His body went through changes no one could have predicted and no one could explain -- at least no one in his hometown in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska. An All-American boy, he started out like the other boys he played baseball with in back lots and green fields, brown hair, blue eyes, gangly and full of energy. He was an only child, which would end up being a good thing for his parents because there was no way they could afford to keep him fed and any other growing children assuming they were all going to end up like Jay Lee.

Because when Jay Lee turned 12, that was when Jay Lee stopped being like every other boy. Every other boy also started going through his own change from child to adult, of course. Hair grew in new places, voices cracked, muscles developed, balls dropped. They developed a more than passing interest in their dicks and what they could do with them beside pee, in most cases they started to notice the opposite sex in more interesting ways as well. Jay Lee discovered an interest in, well, everybody. His hunger, like his body, would not obey the usual laws and wanted more.

Much more.

The other boys' bodies started to develop slowly. Jay Lee's body seemed to be developing overnight, and then it just kept on going. He was in pain a lot at first, feeling it in his muscles and bones like a hard, shining hurt that kept him in bed for weeks at a time. When he felt good enough to get out of bed, he was inches or even a whole foot taller than when he lay down.

At 14 he was 6 feet tall, even. He was thin as a rail and weak as a kitten. Then he started eating, and things turned around. His body responded to the nourishment and energy by filling out and allowing him to start playing baseball again. And football. And track and field. And swimming and diving. His body started performing above and beyond the call of duty, and the harder he trained the better it responded.

Then he discovered weight training and things took off in an all-new direction. Two years later, sixteen years of age and 6-foot 6-inches high, Jay Lee started pushing around weights and within a year had increased his weight from 185 to 255 pounds, and he was still rising like bread dough.

At eighteen, as his friends pulled out of their puberties and settled into their changed bodies, 6-foot 10-inch Jay Lee Curtis, star of every sport and fantasy of every girl (and more than a few guys), found that his body wasn't quite done yet. But things were getting difficult around his little hometown.

For one thing, he was a freak. His body was a mass of muscle, so strong and powerful that he could kill a man with his bare hands. He accidentally ripped off car doors. He was shoving trees from the ground by leaning against them. He was ripping through his clothes and outgrowing his shoes. He was breaking desks and lockers and walls at school. His weight had increased to over 300 pounds and it didn't look like it was going to stop.

His muscles weren't the only things growing abnormally large, either.

All the aspects of his manhood were experiencing extraordinary development, and extraordinary strength. When his hormones were acting overtime, he split open the zippers of his pants and shredded his underwear.

He had no control over what his body was doing, of course. Raging hormones meant that his brain might start to daydream and send a message downstairs and before he knew it, his erection was painfully shoving against his pants with so much sheer force and need that he couldn't stop it. In fact, the feeling of its strength and stiffness made him more anxious still and it wasn't long before he was wearing sweatpants instead of jeans just so the crotch could stretch enough to conceal his hugeness as it climbed toward his muscled chest.

"You gotta be careful boy," his momma taught him. "Be gentle and kind, and don't hurt anyone." And he would say, "Yes, momma," and work out his aggressions on the field, or by lifting even more weight -- and getting even bigger. His masculinity made him overly aggressive and he recognized the danger and sought to manage it, but it was hard.

His momma didn't know what to do, but Jay Lee did. He knew there was one place he could be all that he could be, one place that taught discipline and restraint. He joined the army.

And that was how, shortly afterwards, he found himself reporting to General Sherman Lassiter and attached, at the age of 21, to Main Office as a Lieutenant -- there were no Privates at Main Office.

He'd always been an obedient boy, and the army taught him discipline and regimentation. His aggressive tendencies, when they manifested, were channeled in constructive ways. Building barracks, driving tanks, firing guns and, maybe his favorite pastime, wrestling. It was during one of these wrestling sessions, as he was overpowering one after another of his fellow soldiers, that he came under Lassiter's watchful gaze.

One could hardly help noticing Jay Lee. The wrestling tights did little to mask his enormity, and watching that body strain and flex, its muscles bulge and twist, was a lesson in anatomy no one could easily forget. He'd take on two or three other guys at a time and he still outmatched them. His size and strength drove others in his regiment to develop themselves just to keep up, but there was no way they could. He had a genetic advantage over them, and his body would react to the intense training and continual muscle building by just getting larger and larger.

When the team developing what would eventually become Transform needed the seed of that serum, part of it was Jay Lee's DNA samples that started them down the path. He didn't know this -- nor did he know that his meals at Main Office were sometimes spiked with extra enhancements that kept him growing stronger, bigger and taller until now, as he set down the phone receiver after his commanding officer had told him to `make himself scarce,' he stood seven feet, two inches tall, weighed nearly 400 pounds and could easily bench press 1200 pounds. Each arm was 36 inches around. His waist was only 38 inches, but his chest neared 80 inches -- nearly as big around as he was tall. His shoulders would make it hard to function outside Main Office. He'd literally break apart doorways.

His neck was massive, and the traps that fell away from that cabled tree trunk were equally impressive. His body changed nearly every morsel of food he put into it into rock-hard, steel-solid muscular might.

Jay Lee wasn't just physically imposing, either. He was also one smart son of a bitch. He knew that orders direct from Lassiter meant more than the words spoken. He'd seen enough around Main Office -- enough guys who looked a little like him, enough men in smocks poking and prodding and sticking needles in his ass and arm and thigh, enough times standing naked in empty rooms facing a wall of mirrors behind which, no doubt, more men in smocks stood before machines and dials measuring who knows what about him -- that when he was told to disappear, it wasn't so he would not see something... or someone.

It was so they would not see him.

He was hard to miss. As he grew taller and broader, his face seemed somehow to retain the youth he'd missed. When everything else started morphing into the behemoth he was now, somehow all that growth and change had missed his facial features entirely. He could grow a beard of course, developing a heavy dark gathering of stiff bristles almost overnight. But his eyes were clear, his skin smooth and unlined, his mouth almost perpetually turned up into a smile when he was not at attention.

The rest of him was as remarkably youthful, which would not ordinarily be surprising for a 21-year-old man. But his skin showed none of the stretch marks that such fast and phenomenal growth would ordinarily manifest. His body looked as if it was perfectly normal for a man to grow as big as him -- indeed, he made other men his age look older and undeveloped no matter how fit and muscular they were in comparison.

He sat up immediately seeing the look on Jay Lee's face. "Something up?"

Jay shut the door and placed his broad back against it. "I've been ordered to make myself scarce."

Jason's mouth cocked into a grin. He was Asian, Philippino, with dark smooth skin and dark sparkling eyes. He was wearing his skivvies -- a pair of olive drab boxers with an open fly and a matching tank top. His army ID hung over the scooped neck, poised above the deep separation between the globes of his chest. Jason was much smaller than Jay Lee, standing only six-and-a-half feet tall. He'd been subjected to some of the same tests as his roommate and shared some of his meals. Since joining Main Office, he'd grown half a foot taller and gained dozens of pounds of solid meat on his lanky frame. "Really?" He moved to stand, setting his book aside. "As luck would have it, I'm off duty until 0400."

Jay Lee took a step forward. "I know." He was unbuttoning his shirt.

Jerry was naked and glorious, his huge body slick with sweat, every mound of muscle and deep valet between gleaming with sharp contrasts under the harsh light in the room. His chest rose and fell with each breath, expanding and contracting along every cabled mass of power. His cobblestone stomach was moving, too, clearly showing the strength he possessed in every inch of his body, strength he totally controlled. His face was smooth and tanned and wet, and his mouth was parted into a smile of intense beauty. "Thanks, Scott," he said, his tone a deep rumble but now without any of the power of the Voice that could shake a man to his foundations and make him start cumming buckets with a single word.

"You're welcome, Dr. Lassiter," he answered. Then he chuckled, noting that the man's huge prick was already drooling again, hungry for more. "I thought you could control that," he said, nodding at the prodigious tool.

Jerry's smile increased. "If I want to," he answered. He moved his hand down his body and started stroking very slowly, spreading the wealth of thick honey along his firm inches. "It's just that watching you get dressed is a turn on, Scott."

"It's supposed to be the other way around."

Jerry shrugged, his massive shoulders building into mountains of twisting muscle. "But I know what's underneath, and I can look forward to seeing you reveal it all again. So I imagine your beauty hidden behind that thin cloth covering, and I think about tearing it off your body with my hands and getting at you." His large hand was leisurely moving up and down the fat length of his thickly veined monster. The helmet bloomed and the shaft swelled.

"Vivid," he said, feeling aroused himself but setting his mind back at the course it needed to be on now. "We need to get started."

Lassiter's body started morphing, the muscles growing, his cock extending, his whole form expanding with beauty and strength. "Say when." He was becoming intensely beautiful, irresistibly so. His features perfecting into the semblance of a man almost too awesome to look at, with piercing blue eyes and reddish brown hair. His jaw squared and jutted, and a soft shadow of whiskers crept across it.

"I mean with the assignment, Jerry." He watched the man's body growing and felt a tugging toward him. He was releasing sex scent into the room. "Please, Jer, there'll be plenty of time later." He felt himself breaking out in a sweat.

"Spoilsport," the mammoth beauty pouted. But the scent was pulled back and Jerry's body solidified into one approximately the size and shape of Scott's own, with a beauty only slightly superhuman. He stood up and went over to a desk that had a single drawer, pulling it open and extracting what looked like a small coin made of shiny plastic. He shook the circle in his fingers and it fell open into a wadded collection of wrinkled material, looking like a used condom.

He examined the packet, finding an opening of some sort and lifted his leg, sticking his foot into the material and started pulling it across his leg and up, further, as it covered his privates and ass.

"Slick," Scott admired.

"Not my invention," Jerry admitted. The material stretched, covering him finally in a sheath of shimmering white that hugged his form like a second skin. "The shirt I wore was made of the same stuff. Some sort of amazing polymer that can feel like any material, but crumples into a very small size." He took out two more of the coin-shaped discs, these looking like quarters or half-dollars, and clothed his muscular form in another set of jeans and a T-shirt that fit him perfectly. Scott realized that Jerry could morph his body to fit any set of clothing perfectly, but these clothes looked like they were working the other way around.

"Why not just wear Levi's and JC Penney?"

"Because Levi's and JC Penney shirts don't do this." He started growing again, filling up his side of the room, quickly expanding upwards and outwards, swelling by the foot and the clothing stretched itself to contain him. His voice boomed, "And it feels like I'm not wearing anything at all. Which is how I prefer things now."

"Of course," Scott nodded. And then Jerry was shrinking down again and approached him. Scott stood there as Jerry applied his soft lips to Scott's open mouth and slid his talented tongue inside. A heat built through Maddox's body as his desire literally enflamed, and he felt the powerful man's hand on his ass, gripping him roughly.

The most difficult part of this mission was very likely to be keeping his hands off this guy for more than 10 minutes. And there was no time like the present to start practicing. "The dossier," he said, breaking the embrace and reaching for the folder.

Jerry's smile spoke volumes. He knew how hard Scott was. How could he help it, he'd pressed his muscled form so close to Maddox his could probably tell how many hairs were on his chest. "Of course."

Scott broke the seal and opened the file.

It started normally enough, the two men kissing, exploring, fondling and caressing but suddenly it turned into something between fucking and wrestling, sometimes one or the other and sometimes both but all of it very physical and strenuous.

"Fuck, dude," Jason said between breaths, "what's up?"

Jay Lee's eyes flashed and his smile was less sexy than hungry, a slit across his youthful face with a deep dimple on one side. "What?"

"You're... fuck, dude, you're wild! I thought we were just going to have a little fun and suddenly I'm fucking fighting just to stay alive."

"Too rough?" Jason often thought that if a bear could talk, he'd sound like Jay Lee. That deep rumble that was not so much a voice and a feeling. His bunkmate's body was a dark matting of hair, all his dark curls plastered to his skin by sweat. Runnels of perspiration trailed along his thick neck and ran like rivers along the valleys between the mountain range on his stomach.

"No, dude, it's never too rough. You oughtta know that by now." Jason's smile now sparked with that same hunger, like an animal bearing his teeth at a meal.

Jay Lee scrubbed his fingers against the burr of hair on his head then stretched his mammoth frame wide. All his muscles twisted and bulged against each other. "Dunno, Jase. I feel like... something. Know what I mean?"

Jay Lee was never the most verbose of men. "Not exactly."

"I feel something. Something inside. Up here," he said, knocking a knuckle against his temple, "and here," he dug his fingers through the wet fur on his chest, "and here, especially." Then his hand grabbed his ample tool, so big it spilled through his grip and its shiny skin gleamed. His mighty snake was still half-stiff, the knobby head red and round, his heavy, hairy balls dropping solidly between his muscled thighs.

Jason bent his hands behind his neck, his eyes focused on his friend's hugeness. "Something?"

Jay Lee nodded. "It's weird. Been feeling it for a couple of days, now. It's like... mmm, like heat or heaviness. Maybe both. Like I'm made of metal and there's a magnet somewhere pulling me to it. Like I'm heavier than normal, like I can feel every fiber of muscle vibrating like guitar strings or... what?" He noticed that Jason was stifling a laugh and then realized what he'd been saying, and how stupid it sounded.

"Dude, you need some leave."

"No. I'll show you what I need." Jay Lee leaned forward and reached out, hooking his paw around Jason's neck and pulling their mouths together. Then he pulled harder and they were tangled up again, naked and strong, shoving and pulling and thrusting against each other so rough and loud that the floor shook.

One of Scott's eyebrows arched as he scanned the pages. "Interesting, at least. Fun?" He flipped another page. "Maybe." He pulled out a brown envelope and tossed it across the room. Jerry caught it in midair and slit the seal with his thumb, spilling a set of black and white glossies across his blanket.

He whistled a slow note as the images revealed themselves. "Looks like we're not the only ones playing god," he said. The pictures were less than sharp and not very pretty, but it was perfectly clear what they showed. Huge men. Huge, and hugely muscled. There were views from behind as they stood at what looked like attention, hands clasped behind their broad backs, wide shoulders stretching by the yard, legs set apart. There were six of them, and they looked almost exactly alike. Another picture from the side, showing fat chests and flat stomachs. They were naked, and their bodies were hairless and smooth.

Then two shots from the front, and Jerry quirked a grin. "I see the sexual organs breed true." He flipped the picture around to show Scott the picture of the men with dicks hanging almost to the knee. "I should think that would be a problem if they need to be running anywhere." Scott grunted agreement. Jerry looked at another picture showing two of the men grappling with each other, bent nearly to the ground and apparently wrestling, their thick muscles bulging so large they looked like they'd jump right through the skin. Jerry swore he felt the wall behind him shudder, almost as if the men were wrestling somewhere in the building.

Scott was still studying the file. "Coalition of some sort. Russian, mostly, at least the geneticists are. The men are European, Czech and Hungarian. A Greek. Italian. Then two Russians, or maybe Belasarian. They're using what they call pure breeds, as if there were such a thing."

Jerry nodded. "Genetically, I suppose, you could check for clues in the matrices. But I would think that would be detrimental to the final product. Our research showed that mixing genetic make-up was much more successful. Then again, we discovered that by accident after the guys started... to... well..."

"Fuck each other," commented Scott, smiling.

"Yes." He looked at a couple more images, his brow furrowing. "Curious," he said.

Maddox twisted around, looking at Lassiter. "What?"

Their eyes met. "Well, your file indicates that they were looking for pure genetic models. But look at the men."

He did. He shrugged. "They all look big and strong."

"Yes, but they also all look identical." Then the whole room shook, and this time even Scott felt it.

"Why?" He was bent low, hands out, ready to strike again.

"Because you're destroying the fucking walls, shithead!"

"They'll build more." He shot forward.

Scott nodded.

"Should we go see what's what?"

Scott nodded again.

The building shook again, and as they exited Lassiter's quarters, a group of MPs jagged past them along the hallway, pistols drawn. Scott and Jerry exchanged a look and followed them.

There was a buzzing in Jay Lee's head. His vision had gone red. Something was awake inside him he'd kept caged until now. It had been growing more powerful over the past few days, and now it was too strong to control. It wanted blood and power and to show its strength. He couldn't hear Jason's cries, could not see his friend so much as feel him there, his skin and muscle and bone fighting against him.

The door burst open and half a dozen men crowded into the room, surrounding the two naked forms in a semi-circle, their firearms cocked and pointed. Jason began shouting at them instead of at his foe, yelling, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" as he began to lose his struggle.

Then another form entered the room, and as he came inside, he seemed to get bigger. He wore a white T-shirt that clung to him so his skin looked like it was white, and he had more muscle than even Jay Lee possessed. His clear, deep voice cut through the emotions and confusion as he said, quite calmly, "Excuse me, gentlemen." Then, just as calmly, his hand settled on Jay Lee's slicked shoulder and, with evident ease, he pulled the 7-foot 2-inch bear of a man off Jason and tossed him across the room where his bulk made another deep divot in the concrete walls.

Jay Lee turned his attention to a new target, and he lunged forward.

As Jason watched dumbfounded, the man simply grew even larger and surrounded Jay Lee's mammoth frame in his well-muscled arms -- muscles that seemed to swarm and multiply as he held him. Jay Lee was putting up a tremendous struggle, maddened by something, but the other man who looked to be the same age as Jay stood rock solid and completely collected.

Finally, another man entered, surveyed the scene, approached the lead MP and said something quietly to him. The MP nodded once, made a gesture Jason immediately translated as meaning `we're getting the fuck out of here' and the six gun-toting strongarms left the room, leaving him, the new man, his roommate and the biggest fucking dude he'd ever seen in his life.

"What's your name?"

"Jason," he answered, assuming an attention stance automatically at the man's tone. "Lieutenant Jason Fortaleza." He wore no stripes or chevrons, but it was clear this was a man in charge of something. Hell, even if he was just in charge of King Kong then the man was impressive enough.

"Get some clothes on." Jason saluted and looked around the shambles of his quarters for his uniform. The man then turned to King Kong and said, "I see you've got things under control."

The huge man seemed to swell again, but maybe it was just that his huge body was bulging in its attempt to control Jay Lee's apparent madness. "No problem, Scott." He smiled and winked. Whoever the guy was, he certainly didn't know protocol.

The man he called Scott winked back, but he wasn't smiling. As Jason pulled his pants on, Scott turned his attention back to him. "What happened."

"I..."

"Keep dressing."

"Yes, sir. The Lieutenant and I were... um... we were..."

"Wrestling?"

"Yes, sir. Wrestling, sir. Practicing, sir."

"I see." A slight grin met his lips.

"Yes, sir. And the Lieutenant started taking things more... seriously than I intended. Sir."

Scott glanced at the ruins of the room, and the deep dents in the surrounding walls, the broken bunk and chair. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. You have to be pretty rough on me to do any real damage, sir."

"In the Program, Lieutenant Fortaleza?"

"Yes, sir." Jason's attention was drawn to the big man, who turned suddenly. King Kong's eyebrows arched, but he said nothing. Scott merely nodded. "Lieutenant Curtis and I have been bunking for about a year. He's never... never gone that far before."

Jay Lee was still struggling but there was no way to resist the huge man's embrace. He leaned his mouth down to Jay Lee's ear and whispered something, and this seemed to still him somewhat. Then King Kong said, "He's okay," and released him.

Jay Lee bent down, resting his hands on his knees, back bent and slightly crouched. He was breathing hard and his eyes were closed. > From behind, his wide back seemed to shake slightly and Jason thought he heard sobbing. He glanced at Scott who nodded and he said, "Jay? Hey, Jay? You okay?"

A deep rumble of a voice answered. "Yeah." This was followed by a snorting sniffle.

"I'm okay, too, Jay." Then his friend straightened and turned, standing at attention and only faltering slightly at the site of Dr. Lassiter's hulking frame. The man was eight feet tall if he was an inch. Jay Lee had never met anyone larger than himself, and he felt weirdly weak and off-balance for a moment.

"Sorry, sir," he reported to Jerry. "I don't know what... what came over me."

Jerry folded his arms across his chest and nodded back towards Scott. "He's `sir.' I'm just Jerry."

"Yes, sir." Jerry laughed slightly, always amused at the military mind, and stepped out of the way, leaning his bulk against the wall near one of the cavities Jay Lee made with Jason's body. The naked man and the half-naked man stood at attention as Jerry leisured and Scott stood looking from one to the other. He knew what was coming next, and he simply stood waiting for it.

It happened about a minute later as General Sherman entered the room, bringing an air of power and officiousness with him. The two lieutenants straightened even stiffer, if that was possible, while Jerry remained leaning against the wall (was Jason imagining things or was the man now only as tall as Jay Lee?) and Scott offered a salute to his commanding officer. "I see someone has been playing too hard," he said. No one answered. "An explanation, please?"

Jason started to open his mouth, but Scott answered first. "Just testing limits, Major. I think these two young men might need more exercise and less desk time." Sherman did not look amused, but neither did Scott.

"Looks like they're getting plenty of exercise to me," Jerry volunteered.

"Thank you for your insights, Doctor. You're excused. Your help was appreciated."

Jerry looked at Jay Lee intently for a moment, straightened and left the room. Jason felt a trickle of sweat between his butt cheeks and licked his lips. Jay Lee looked stunned. He wouldn't meet Jason's gaze.

Sherman approached Jay Lee. It looked absurd that the huge man was intimidated by the small, portly, somewhat pathetic looking figure. But Jason had met that man's eyes more than once and knew the effect they could have. "Explain yourself, Lieutenant."

"Sir. I came off duty as ordered and returned to my quarters." He stopped, lips parted, clearly unsure how to continue.

"I'm waiting."

"Sir. Lieutenant Fortaleza and I decided to make best use of the available time and... conduct... practice... Sir, Lieutenant Fortaleza and I..."

Maddox broke in. "I believe it would be best if you refrained from too many details of your off-duty time, Curtis. The General understands that even the army allows a man some privacy."

"This is Main Office, Major Maddox," Sherman answered, not turning. "There is no privacy here."

Maddox raised an eyebrow and said, "Very well. Please continue Lieutenant. And I suggest you leave no details out, and remember that you are a member of the Program and replacing you is not as easy as..."

"Enough, Maddox!" Sherman did turn, then, and the two men seemed to have some silent war between them and Jason was unsure of whom he was more intimidated by.

"Yes, sir," Maddox answered at last. But he looked anything but rebuked.

Sherman kept his unblinking gaze on the man for a heartbeat and then turned back to Jay Lee, who still stood naked and at attention. Not one of his huge muscles had moved a millimeter. "Get dressed and report to my office, Lt. Curtis. Immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Without a backwards glance, Sherman vacated. The two junior officers stayed at attention, though, until Maddox said, "At ease," quietly and took a deep breath. The two young men relaxed slightly and looked at him. Maddox knew they were both wondering who he was, and why he was here, and how big his balls must be to take on Sherman so easily. But all he did was smile.

"Lt. Curtis, I suggest you get dressed quickly and report to the General." Jay Lee was immediately in motion. Maddox looked at Jason, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you still off duty, Jason?" He was taken aback at being addressed informally, but he nodded. "Get your shirt and follow me, please."

"Sir, I...."

"It's not an order, Lieutenant, if that makes it easier."

Jason smiled. "Yes, sir." He grabbed his shirt and followed Scott from the room. •