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|Tom twirled his fork in his mashed potatoes, a frown on his face. His grandparents, sitting across from him at the table, watched him.
"Everything okay son?" Grandpa asked.
"Fine..." Tom mumbled, putting his fork down and looking away.
"I figured you'd be happy, now that summer's here, Tommy," Grandma said. "Your report card was excellent, and you've got three months to play and enjoy your youth." She looked at Grandpa, then back at Tom.
"So?" Grandpa asked. "You gonna keep up guessing or are you gonna tell us what's wrong?"
Tom took a deep breath. "I didn't make football tryouts," he said, crossing his arms. "May I be excused?"
"But Tom," Grandma asked, concerned. "You've been playing football since you were ten! How could they not have picked you?"
"The other guys are all bigger than me," Tom replied. "It's not like freshman football was."
"Just a case of big pond, little fish," Grandpa replied, taking a sip from his beer. "How about this. I'll get you a membership to that gym around the corner, and you can hit the weights all summer. Then next September, maybe you can talk to the coach? Maybe I could pull some strings for you?"
Tom looked up from his meal. "Maybe, I guess..." he mumbled. In his mind, he recounted the tryouts that day, and Mikey Fisher, new team captain, laughing at him afterward. With any luck, he thought, I'll come back as big as Mikey is. Maybe then I can push HIM around in the locker room.
"But you eat up that meal," Grandpa suggested. "Growing boy like you needs his nutrition, especially if you're gonna bulk up."
* * *
Tom walked out of the locker room at the Fitness Zone very nervously. He gazed over at the cardio room, wondering if he should start there. The weight room seemed really daunting, with lots of big, muscular guys bulging as they contorted their faces and swung the weights around.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" said a deep, intimidating voice. Tom spun around to see Mike Fisher wearing a tight t-shirt stretched across his big pecs, rolled up at the sleeves. Mike reached down and readjusted himself, shifting around his imposing package in his tight shorts. The motion seemed really threatening to Tom, as well as Mike's extra six inches in height. He suddenly felt very small.
"Just... uh, hitting the gym, y'know?" he said nervously, his voice cracking as he spoke.
"Good luck, pussy," Mike said as he walked by, elbowing Tom forcefully and throwing him off balance. Tom felt his face burn with embarrassment.
"Geez, what a jerk." said a voice Tom didn't recognize. He turned to see a man a few inches taller than he was, but almost equally as wide. Tan skin wrapped around solid muscles, about 6'5" and 250 lbs of them. The man had short, cropped brown hair and steely blue eyes. The man extended a thick hand. "I'm Bill."
"Uh, yeah," Tom said, very intimidated by the man. He shook back. "Tom. My name's Tom," he replied nervously.
"Never seen you here before," Bill replied, his hand running through his own hair. Tom was impressed by the bicep that popped when he did so.
"Yeah, it's my first time," Tom said. Why did everything he said sound so stupid?
"What are you looking to do? Build muscle? Weight train?"
"Build... build muscle," Tom replied. "I didn't make the football team, and... I want to get bigger, y'know, deal with... bullies like that jerk Mike."
Bill smiled, which made Tom feel more comfortable. "You're in the right place. I used to be about your size a long time ago, and had to deal with jerks like that too. Y'know, if you're really serious, how about training with me? I just moved here a month ago, don't really know anybody, and I've been looking for a partner. I could put you on a program, too, help you out. Whatta ya think?"
"Sure!" Tom said, angry that he had sounded so overly enthusiastic but excited by the prospect of training with this big muscley guy.
"You've got great form," Bill said as they started off with the bench press. Tom blushed. "Nice work. Afterwards, I'll give you some diet suggestions, too. My 'secret recipe' for an after workout shake. Sound good?"
"Sure does," Tom replied. He glanced across the gym, seeing Mike lift an imposingly heavy dumbbell. Mike sneered back. Tom felt a little less shaky in front of Mike, knowing that Bill was right beside him.
* * *
Tom followed Bill's advice to the letter. After every workout he mixed up whey protein and creatine with bananas and a little nonfat yogurt. He even took Bill's suggestions about his diet, instructing his grandmother as to what he should probably be eating.
"Hey Tom," his Grandpa said to him one day with a smile. "I got a surprise for you in the living room." Tom followed his Grandpa to find a pile of weights on the floor. "For when it rains, or if you just don't feel like walking over to the gym. I'm impressed by how serious you've been lately." Tom smiled back to his grandfather.
"Thanks Grandpa," he said, giving him a hug. His grandfather left the room and Tom piled some weights on a bar, smiling as he slowly curled them up. He looked down at his shirtless body, impressed at the muscle he'd built in the weeks since he met Bill.
"Awesome workout today, Tom," Bill said as the two left the Fitness Zone. "You're making some really impressive gains. I like your attitude, too. Very dedicated."
Tom had been working out with Bill for about five weeks, and he had come to treasure the time they spent together. He smiled back at Tom, thanking him, momentarily imagining himself as big as his training partner. The thought intrigued him. Bill headed over to his car.
Behind him, Mike walked out of the gym, giving him a shove as he walked by. "Pussy," he said, laughing as he walked by. Tom frowned, a little ashamed, and embarrassed that Bill had seen it.
"Why don't you back off?" Bill said from across the parking lot. Mike gave a nervous look in big Bill's direction, walking more quickly away.
"Hey, Tom," Bill said, walking over to Tom and patting him on the shoulder. "Don't let him bug you. You want a ride home?" Tom nodded, letting Bill lead him to his car.
Outside Tom's house, Bill paused. "Hey, Tom, I've got an offer for you. I've got a little secret ingredient that's helped me put on mass like nothing else. You want in? You seem like you could use the boost, even though you've been doing so great so far."
Tom narrowed his eyes. "Not... steroids, is it?"
Bill laughed. "Not at all. Brand new, not even on the market, completely safe." He reached into his glove compartment and held out a small inhaler. "One dose is good for about six months. No side effects, just a little boost of some hormones to get your engine running."
Tom took the inhaler, examining it. "Is it... illegal?"
"It's very down low, but like I said, I haven't had a single bad effect from it. It made me almost double in size. If you're down, just take a puff off it."
Tom puffed on the inhaler, then handed it back. "Good for six months?" he said. "That's cool."
Bill smiled, gave Tom a pat on the thigh. "See you tomorrow?" he said. "You'll be impressed with how good this stuff works. Might want to keep that a secret, though. Like I said, it's very down low."
Tom smiled, ran inside the house, happy. It could've been nothing, but as he jogged up the stairs he felt like his legs were a little tingly. "Could it already be working?" he thought, smiling, excited to see the effects.
* * *
Tom smiled as he soaped up his body. Summer was nearly over, and the effects of the inhaler had been substantial. He looked down at his biceps as he scrubbed his beefy chest. He'd put on about forty pounds of solid muscle since he took the hormones, and his bodyfat had actually decreased! As he rinsed off, he took note of one change he hadn't expected: his cock had been a measly four inches long before, and had more than doubled. He reached down and stroked his huge ten incher, tickling his lemon-sized balls with the other hand. He bounced each pec, revelling in the feeling as he felt each slab bounce up and down.
Stepping out of the shower, he towelled himself off, then examined himself in the mirror. His hair had grown like crazy, and now hung down past his shoulders. Look like a fucking barbarian, he said, smiling. Oddly, the roots of his hair had grown very dark, and most of the long strands were dark black instead of his usual brown. He put on some shorts, laughing at how tight they'd become as his package filled out the front to an almost comical effect. He pulled on a t-shirt, then realized he could barely put his arms down with it on. RIIIIIP! The shirt tore, his shoulders, biceps and chest shredding the seams.
"My goodness!" his grandmother exclaimed from the hallway. "Tom, I know I've been saying this a lot lately, but... Good lord! You certainly have filled out over the summer!"
"You got that right," his grandfather chimed in. "It's called puberty, hon. Tommy, looks like we're gonna have to do some special school shopping for you, hunh?" Tom smiled as he looked down at his shirt, falling off him in pieces. "And how about a haircut? Ya look like a hippy."
The first day of school was amazing for Tom, now with a shaved head and all new clothes. As he walked, he loved how his lats pushed his arms out, his thick quads making him walk differently, his long tool snaking down his leg. He felt like he had a fresh new start. Even his friends barely recognized him. Tom felt all eyes on him as he walked, arms bulging out of his shirt, down the hall.
All day Tom had looked for Mike Fisher, and finally found him come lunchtime in the cafeteria, sitting alone. Tom smiled, walked up to him, and sat down across the table for him, loudly slamming his tray down.
"Hey, that seat's for my..." Mike looked up and saw someone he didn't recognize sitting there--about 5'10", but looked about 200 pounds of solid beef. Quietly, Mike finished his sentence: "...friends."
"Aw, I'm sure there'll be room for me," Tom said, "although I admit, I do take up a lot of space." Tom grinned as he realized that while Mike was taller, he was definitely a hell of a lot bigger. Tom took a sip from his milk, flexing his bicep as Mike watched. "C'mon, Mike, don't tell me you don't recognize your old buddy Tom Sanders, do ya?"
"You're..." Mike looked amazed. "H-hey... what's up, man?" Mike replied nervously. How the hell can that be Tom Sanders? he thought. "Looks like... you put on weight this summer," he said nervously.
"Yeah, I did," Tom said with a laugh. "Hey Mikey, just wondering... You trying out for wrestling today? Or is football gonna take up too much of your time?"
"Well, I..." Mike shifted uncomfortably. "I am captain of the team, y'know."
"Yeah, we'll just see about that," Tom said, picking up his tray. "See you at tryouts."
* * *
Tom got home with a huge grin on his face--he couldn't believe how amazing it had felt to pin Mike's formerly huge (but to Tom, now, not that spectacular) body underneath his. "Sorry, Mike," the coach had said. "You're the only one even close to his weight class."
Tom smiled. "Imagine that," he said aloud in a deeper voice than he'd had before the summer. "I'm captain of the wrestling team now." A note on the fridge told him that his grandparents had gone to the grocery store. That was actually good--Tom had to meet Bill at the gym in about an hour, and he figured he'd get in a little "alone time" before he got there. His beefy quads powered him up the stairs, and he hopped into the shower, his favorite place to take care of his "business." He stripped down, flexed in front of the mirror, and thought of Mike, in his singlet, struggling helplessly underneath him. His 10 incher sprang to life, and he reached out, rubbing one hand over his thick pecs and the other up and down his huge shaft. He imagined Bill, who had gained just as much (if not more) over the summer as Tom had. In his mind, Tom could vividly see Bill's gigantic body, now closer to 300 lbs. "Someday, I'll be that big... Yeah, fucking right I will," he said, groaning as he shot his huge load all over the shower wall.
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