Another Backfire


By Voyager

You remember that episode where Lucy was kneading all that dough? That is what it felt like massaging Mitch’s pecs. If they had been enormous before, they had gone to the degree beyond enormous now. Benching that truck had made them grow almost by a third, from what I could see. If someone was short enough to be looking into his abs, that person would literally not see Mitch’s face for his pecs would be blocking the view completely. With each kneading I did of his pecs, they seemed to be growing that much more, so much so that I don’t think I could have straddled them if I needed to. Luckily I was straddling his stomach, which was much less wide. It was rather uncomfortable, however, as his abs made sitting on them like sitting on cobblestone. Now seeing that I was naked as well did not help things.

Oh, I forgot that whole naked thing, didn’t I? Damn chapter breaks! Well, Mitch had called me over and told me to sit on his abs. His member was already at partial salute. I would have had to been a bigger fool than I usually was not to get the hints he was dropping that I would soon be a sexual conquest. This did not excite me, as my style was more chicks, not dicks. To be honest, it scared the hell out of me, for it would be rape, pure and simple, as well as whatever damage he would cause internally. There was no way to stop him. Chuck had done a hell of a lot to me, but never did that. Who would have ever thought I would be longing for Chuck?

I was about to sit on Mitch’s abs when he stopped me and pushed me to the side. Standing up to his full height from the laying down position, he looked down on me. Looking at him from my standing position, I was now looking into his abs. He was no Chuck, but he had definitely grown. He was probably about 7’7”, with a substantial increase in body mass. He must have been well over 400 lbs now, and even more unstoppable.

Putting his hand over his mouth again, he said, “No, that won’t do. It won’t be convenient for later.” Reaching down, he ripped off his shorts and briefs, leaving himself naked and rather stimulated. “Much better. Now you.” Before I had a chance to react, I found myself once again uplifted and him ripping my clothes off as if they were made of breakaway fabric. I struggled, but to no avail. When it came to taking off my shirt, which he was holding, he took his other meaty hand and put it around my neck, temporarily cutting off my windpipe, while he ripped my shirt off, leaving me naked as well. Putting me down on the ground, with me gasping for air, he said, “There, so when you are done making me bigger, I can use you in another way.” My only thought was that I would stretch out the massaging as much as I could, hoping that Doctor Morgan would come to the rescue. But even then, how could the two of us tackle a monster like Mitch?

So I massaged, and I kneaded those ever expanding pecs. I began conversations with him, asking him how he got so big, was he always that big, what was the weather like in Ulam Bator…anything to stall. It was then that some of my suspicions were bore out.

It was to the question of if he was always big and how he got so big that the answers became clearer. It seems he was an average kid growing up, not really much taller than the other kids and an average build. Nothing indicated that he would gain the size he would. It wasn’t until puberty and the discovering of his sexual identity that changes really began to happen. He began to hit the weights and was moderately successful in his effort. It was after his first sexual experience with another young man that he saw the explosive results. In one year he shot up from 5’6” to 6’2” and his muscle weight shot up accordingly. He didn’t equate it immediately, but saw that when he wasn’t as active sexually or in sex-related activities, his growth decreased or stayed still. Even a muscle worship session seemed to stimulate him to growth. This realization and his careful control of it caused even more explosions in his size. He grew at incredible rates – to 6’6”, then 7’0”, then 7’2”. From a skinny 130 to 185 to 250 to his current weight as well. That ended about six months ago.

My next question was kind of obvious. Why didn’t he grow more? It was obvious he wanted to.

The answer had already been hinted at, but my mind was concentrating on one thing…keeping this going for as long as possible. My arms and hands already ached, but I kept on going.

“Because basically I had grown so big that no one or nothing could stimulate me anymore”, he said. He patted my back, “Until you”. He paused, almost as if he was wondering whether to say the next sentence. He decided he would. “Chuck was right, you are something special”.

Although I had expected that, it still stopped me in my tracks. He smiled at that pause and revealed, “Chuck is my brother. Half-brother actually. We have the same father, and inherited the same gene.”

So there it was. The reason why this behemoth was here now, why he was a behemoth, and why I was now in a situation that, very soon, I might have my brains screwed out unwillingly. It also gave me a small relief to think that I just didn’t stumble into this. He would have found me sooner or later.

Mitch was no idiot. He saw my wheels turning, putting all the pieces together. “Figuring it out now, are you? Yes, we both grow by stimulation. In Chuck’s case, it was by anger and rage. For me, it is more stimulation, sexual and otherwise. We were always competing to see who could grow bigger, more muscular. He would surpass me in height or measurements, then I would pass him. It was a contest between the two of us. That was until I shot up to seven-two, and he had stayed at six-eight. I loved rubbing his face in that fact.”

He raised head and neck up to look me in the eye. “Until you came along, tiny one. Or should I say, “little man? Yes, I know that term, and I even slipped once saying it.” A cold shiver ran down my spine, visibly shaking me. He pulled me down to his chest, hugging me, “Seems my tiny one is cold…maybe you need some warming up from your muscle giant. Never really liked the name muscle god, though I have been worshipped countless times.” He felt me struggling, laughed, and let go. “Still rebelling, huh?”

With a shrug, he continued with his story. “Well, I got a phone call about a month or so ago. It was Chuck. Very mysterious. Told me to come to a wooded area, about 10 miles away from here. His voice sounded different...deeper, distant. I met him and was amazed. Twenty five feet tall! He could have crushed me…me…in his hands he was so big and so muscular. He was gloating like never before!” I saw anger rise up in Mitch at that thought. “I finally got him to talking and he spilled everything about what had happened. I knew you had gotten him into weights in the first place, so I already had a score to settle with you, but this! I decided that if you could work that kind of magic with him, you could work it with me, too.”

He paused for a bit, allowing me to get in a question. “Is Doctor Morgan involved in this, too?” He laughed. “No, what happened with that was simply a case of coincidence. I was going to come over here and force you to do what I needed, but then I heard of Doc Morgan’s problem and knew it could only be you. What an opportunity! You have exceeded my expectations, tiny one.” With that he slapped my back so hard, he drove me forward, right to his mouth. He held me there and kissed me, all the while me struggling to get away.

He released me with a great laugh. “That was only the beginning! I feel massive, I feel like the freakin Hulk! Wait until they see me in California!” Seeing my puzzlement, he continued. “That part was not a lie. I am going to California. I am going to go into bodybuilding. Hell, I will be bodybuilding.” He blithely tossed me off of him and stood up. He went into a series of poses with his beyond belief muscles. “Everyone else will even be scared to get on stage with his body” He flexed harder. Muscles swelled. His height grew in front of me. His member swelled with blood. Stimulated, he flexed even harder, causing the cycle to repeat. Mitch was in an orgy of self-satisfaction, driven by his own ego. “This is freakin awesome, tiny one. Look at how I’m growing! I’ll wipe away the competition the first time I take the stage. I’ll win every competition either by blowing away the competition or by default because those pussies won’t want to get on stage with this monster!” Flexing…flexing… “Every muscle magazine and show will want me to be their spokesman. I’ll be rich beyond the dream of avarice.” Flexing…flexing. “I’ll have all the worshippers I want or need. I’ll grow beyond Chuck…beyond anything he could imagine…and the world will be mine for the taking!” He was in a frenzy. His eyes were wide. His attention was solely on himself. By the time he was done, he must have doubled his muscle mass and weight, all packed on an nine foot or so frame. His smile was no longer a smile…it was a snarl.

He began toward me, saying, “Now to take care of that sexual desire. You won’t be much, but you will do.” He must have seen my abject terror at the prospect. He continued to walk towards me. “Don’t worry, my ragdoll, I will make it easy for you.” He grabbed my neck and forced me to the floor. He sat down, then lay down as well. “I will do all the work for you”, he explained and showed me what he was talking about. He put his hands around my waist, his hands almost touching each other, and began pumping me up and down in the air, as if to show me what he was about to do, but with his member sliding in and out of me. He pumped me up in the air, stopped, looked at me, and said, “Get ready to serve your muscle god”. •

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