Power of the Hulk


By Corwin

Scott walked into the weight room, recalling events from the night before. He had struck his deal with Blonsky, and returned to campus. He knew the campus would be abuzz with talk of the monster destroying the dorm, then defeated by a bigger and stronger hercules. He had planned for that. He used the power of his legs to leap to the physics building. He was amazed at how easy it was for him, and that his muscles seemed to calculate the exact force needed. He wondered how far his legs could propel him, but decided to wait for another day to test that.

At the building, he reverted to a smaller size. Not too small, or the loin cloth he had fashioned would fall off. He needed clothes first. He wasn't ready to reveal his new body to the world, yet. First, he had to deal with Brandon.

He went into the basement and moved the locker. Climbing through the hole, he reverted to his small size. He felt so skinny. He found a set of clothes he had stashed, and put them on. Next, he found the research he had stolen that discussed Blonsky's transformation. He'd need that, and stashed it in a backpack. He climbed through the hole, mometarily putting on a couple hundred pounds of super-dense muscle to move the locker. Then he walked to his dorm.

Scott pretended to look shocked when the police stopped him and told them there had been an incident. He nearly lost it when he heard what they said next.

"Ya, luckily that student over there overpowered the monster. He's captured now." The officer pointed to Brandon. Scott could feel his blood pressure rising, but tried to keep his cool.

"Wow," he feined. "He must be strong."

"Ya. I heard him say it was some experiment of something. Looks like you could use a dose of what he's got." The officer laughed. Scott didn't think it was funny.

The campus police found Scott some temporary housing. All day Scott had heard about what a hero Brandon was. Everyone was talking about his fantastic body and his amazing strength. Scott had seen Brandon flexing and strutting for admirers several times. Once, when Brandon saw Scott, he pointed at him and saw everyone there laugh. Now it was Scott's turn.

Scott wore a loose fitting sweatshirt and sweatpants. They looked oversized on his scarecrow like body. The jocks snickered as he walked in, then turn and start lifting. Scott had always been intimidated by the poundage these men could move.

Scott went to a bench and put 100 pounds on the bar. He got below it. With not gamma-induced strength, the results were the same as before. The bar teetered, and Scott strained. After two reps, his small, weak muscles ached. His mind told him to call upon his new powers, but he refused. Not yet.

"Well, well, well. The wuss still hasn't learned his lesson." Scott heard the people around him laugh. "Maybe you'd like some real muscle to help you out, huh wimp?" Scott saw Brandon's big hand on the bar, and felt Brandon push down. The bar fell to Scott's chest. Brandon was pressing down, and Scott couldn't breath. Brandon leaned into Scott's face. "I TOLD you not to come here. This is a place for guy's with MUSCLE." Brandon let up, tossing the bar back to the bench, then striking an empressive crab pose that showed every bit of striated massive beef he had.

Scott panted, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck you," he finally got out.

Brandon reached under Scott's arms, and held him like a puppet. "Are you high or something? Didn't you hear about last night. I'm fucking stronger than the HULK! You know what I can do." Brandon stood Scott on the floor, grabbed the back of his head and pressed it between his pecs. He flexed lightly, yet it felt to Scott like his skull was caught in a vice. "I can pop your head like a grape with these big boys!"

Although he was in pain, Scott knew he had to goad Brandon on. Scott took a deep breath, inhaling Brandon's powerful man scent. He then stuck out his tongue, licking the fine fur between Brandon's basketball-sized pecs.

Brandon grabbed Scott's hair and pulled him away. "You are high, faggot! I know cocksuckers like you love muscle like mine..."

"You never complained before," interrupted Scott. "Besides, I've seen better muscle and I know what a little dick you got." Scott grabbed Brandon's crotch.

Brandon's eyes fill with hatred. Ya, he was gay, but nobody knew. Especially none of the jocks in the gym. He lifted Scott like a rag doll and forced him inot the locker room. Brandon reached up and grabbed the metal frame, bending it down to keep the door from opening. He turned to Scott, eyes blazing, "You're dead now!"

"Brandon, don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry," Scott said laughing. It was a line Brandon liked to use, and now it belonged to Scott. Scott walked over to one of the changing benches, and knelt down. He placed his elbow on the bench, his hand in the air. "Come on, tough guy. You think you're so strong. You can't even beat me at arm wrestling."

Brandon formed a fist and pounded it into the side of a row of lockers. The row went flying across the room, slamming into the far wall.

Scott laughed. "Oooooo, I'm scared." He let his wrist go limp, and his hand fall.

Brandon strutted over to Scott. He knelt down, and grabbed Scott's wrist. He started to squeeze, ready to hear the bones crack and break under his super grip.

Scott had prepared. Under his lose shirt, he had put on enough muscle to resist Brandon's initial grip. He was not as strong as Brandon yet, but the look of surprise on his tormentors face was what he wanted to see. "Having problems?" Scott smiled. "Now watch this. I'M GROWING!" Scott willed himself bigger. Immediately, his sweats became skin tight, filling with powerful muscle. He flexed his bicep, causing the shirt to rip over the hard mound. He bounced his pecs and spread his lats, bursting the shirt. His neck thickened, splitting the collar and causing the shirt to fall to the floor.

Brandon tried to pull away, but Scott held tight. His calves became larger than footballs, splitting the base of his sweatpants. His thighs exploded from the pants, and his round glutes finished the job of destroying the fabric.

Below his sweats, Scott wore a set of spandex speedos that stretched to contain his growing muscle. Blonsky had told him about that trick. "When I got the power, I shredded all my clothes, pants and all. You need something that will stretch as your muscles expand." Blonsky even laughed at Banner. "Ya, those stupid purple pants. Thinks he's strong and he can't even burst them with his muscle size. He's small. I always could. I deserve to be the strongest."

When Scott's size matched Brandon, he stopped the growth. Scott was still grinning. Brandon's face showed his disbelief.

"Come on big guy, take these arms down, if you can." Scott flexed his free arm, showing off his now 23 inch bicep.

Brandon had something to prove now. He powered up with a force he knew could contain a monster. His arm flexed, a river of veins feeding strength to his hardened body. He felt the power in him, knew he was unbeatable. He could crush steel and break rocks with his grip. Still, his arm didn't move.

"That's all you got?" Scott sneered at him. "Come on, really poor it on. More..."

Brandon's anger grew. He demanded more strength. He began to sweat, forcing more power into his arm. His arm began to shake, his muscles cramping as Scott's arm absorbed all Brandon's might and held steady.

Scott waited. He felt Brandon's strength, and increased his own to hold the other man off. When he felt Brandon was tiring, he made his move. "I was hoping for better from you." In a single speedy move, Scott threw Brandon's arm toward the bench. He stopped a millimeter from the surface, and held him there. Scott moved his head toward his bulging bicep, then kissed it. Slowly and very lightly, he touched Brandon's hand to the bench. "Who's the wimp now?"


"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet." Holding Brandon's arm firmly in place, Scott willed more power. "I'm not done yet. GROW!" Once again Scott felt the surge of unlimited power feed into his muscles. His bones thickened as he began to tower over Brandon. Scott's chest expanded, pushing into Brandon as the now smaller man tried to pull away. Scott would have none of that. Brandon would see what true muscle power was, and experience the damage it could do first hand.

Brandon's shock began to subside, and his fear took over. He had to get away. He pulled on his hand, and found it trapped by Scott's power. He threw a fist into Scott's chest, with no effect. He kicked at Scott, but nothing.

Within seconds, Scott had become a ten foot, one and half ton behemoth of muscle power. Now it was his turn to lift Brandon. He grabbed Brandon's pecs, which he instinctively flexed. Scott lifted the little man above his head, shoving Brandon into the ceiling of the locker room. He squeezed, and Brandon screamed. If felt like his pecs were being ripped from his chest.

"Ya know, I use to like to suck you off. I could do that now you know. Nothing you could do to stop me. Or, I could shove my python down your throat. Everything grows proportionally on me, you know. But instead, I think I'd rather see you totally humbled. Humiliated." Scott dropped Brandon, then picked him up by his head. He placed Brandon's face between his pecs. Scott smiled when he noticed his pecs were actually bigger than Brandon's head. He flexed, squeezing. Again, Brandon screamed.

"If you want out, lick. Lick good. Taste my strength with your weak tongue."

Brandon could barely move. He wanted to bite. He wanted to inflect pain on Scott, but he knew he couldn't. He pressed his tongue out and tasted the salty skin of his tormentor. He heard Scott laugh.

"OK, now rub your hands over my muscles. FEEL my hard body. Worship me as a muscle god."

Brandon had no choice. He felt Scott's abs. Bricks. He pressed his hands against Scott's pecs, trying to free his head. They wouldn't move and felt like warm, living marble. Scott's shoulder were round, his traps high and mountainous. Scott's arms were so thick and powerful. Brandon felt woozy, but he didn't know if it was because of the pain inflicted by Scott's massive pecs, or his desire for the strength and power of Scott's muscles. He did know one thing, he was turned on and his dick was getting hard. He tried to resist it, but couldn't.

Scott noticed to. "Knew you were a muscle whore." He released Brandon, tossing him to the ground. Scott struck a crab pose over Brandon's fallen body. "This is muscle, you fucking wimp. You liked to torment me, showing off your body. Now the shoe is on the other foot. But I'm too good for you. You need to start out smaller."

Just then there was the sound of an explosion. The wall where the lockers had piled up exploded inward. The six foot six powerhouse walked inside, rubbing his bicep. "Cheap construction. No problem."

"Emil, my friend here thinks he's as strong as the Hulk."

"The Hulk is weak. I've beaten him before too." Emil Blonsky looked at Brandon. "This one doesn't look so tough." The Abomination flexed his body, showing his power.

"Let's find out," said Scott. •

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