By Giovanni

Trent gazed across the room and saw Simon lifting in front of the mirror. "Hey, man, good to see you." He finished his last few reps, grunting as he pumped each dumbell. He then set them down and stretched his arms over his head. "Missed you the last couple of days," he said. "It's cool when the computer schedules our workouts to overlap. I get to see how the guy I'm sponsoring here is progressing."

Trent smiled and ran a hand nervously through his blonde hair, still a little unaccustomed to his new situation. "Yeah, the whole 'scheduled workouts' thing is a little intense. I was late yesterday, and the computer issued me a warning. What's up with that?"

Simon smiled and nodded. "That's the whole deal. The computer schedules your workouts for when they're most effective. If your late, it throws the entire system out of whack. You've only been here a week, so it's no biggie. Try not to be late again, though, all right?"

"I'll do my best," Trent replied and walked past his friend toward the bench, ready to work on his chest. Computerized training schedules, special supplements... This is a little more than I was expecting. He watched Simon walk back up to the mirror, studying him while he flexed his arms. Simon smiled at his own reflection. Trent smiled too, oddly--what was so pleasing about that? He looked down at his own body, rubbed his hands over the shelves his abs made and up over his thick, hard chest. He flexed it, pressing his hands into his pecs. It felt like he had steel plates underneath it. He felt his nipples get hard, his whole body tingling, and smiled again.

"Commence bench pressing immediately," an electronic tinny voice sounded, and Trent was pulled out of his trance. Simon, across the room still, smirked. Trent shook his head and grabbed the bar.

Trent had met Simon a month ago, at a bar. Trent was content sipping on his beers and flirting with the hot blonde waitress. Simon had sat down near him. Trent had noticed that Simon was watching him, but had tried to ignore it. But there was no ignoring Simon when he had stood up, strode confidently across the room and sat down at Trent's table.

"You have a really great build," he said. Trent had narrowed his eyes, but Simon just shook his head. "I'm not hitting on you. I'm just kind of a gym fanatic, and I was bored, so I figured I'd just come over and chat." Something about the way Simon spoke, his smile, his relaxed body language, put Trent at ease. "Where do you work out?"

"Uh, the Fitness Zone, over on Miller st." He sipped his beer, looked around the bar, which was fairly empty. Then he looked back at Simon. "You?"

"I'm, uh, actually part of a really exclusive club. Pretty expensive, real high tech, real new stuff." Simon flagged the waitress down. "Excuse me, I'll have another," he said, looking back at Trent, who nodded as well. "And another for him." He turned back to the table and polished off the last of his beer. "So, what do you do it for? You play a sport? Just do it for fitness?" He smiled to him. "You're pretty big, nice and cut. You compete at all? Or are you just in it for the ladies?"

Trent took a deep breath. The company didn't seem to bother him anymore. "Eh, I'm trying to do some modelling. Did a couple of ads here and there, just little stuff. I'm trying to get into a fitness mag or a muscle mag."

The two sat there, getting more and more buzzed. Simon shared about how his father owned an insurance agency, so he's always been pretty well off without having to work that much. Trent told Simon about how his construction job had just ended, that he was still looking for work but all set as far as money was concerned. Simon asked about Trent's workout, about his modelling. It turned out, Simon had seen one of the ads Trent was in, standing next to a weight machine in a catalog. At last call, Trent felt very comfortable with his new friend. He'd only planned on staying for a couple of beers, but ended up drinking the night away, getting familiar with Simon. Trent stood up, pulled out his cell phone and called a cab.

"Good idea," Simon said. "I'm gonna do the same. Listen, I think you've got a lot of potential. The health club I go to is pretty new age, probably not anything you're used to, but if you're interested, I can get you in. Requirements of the club, you need to sponsor someone else as a member; all part of membership. Check out this card, gimme a call if you're into it. It's done some pretty amazing things for me so far. You can't imagine the gains you could make."

An entire week went by, and the card sat on Trent's desk in his apartment. He hadn't thought anything of it; he may have had a good time chatting with Simon, but he still barely knew the guy. But after that week, Trent came home from the gym, tired, and took a shower. As he stepped out, he took a look at his naked body in the mirror. He bounced his pecs, flexed his big arms. Yeah, I look good, but what if this place that guy was talking about could do more? At the rate he was going, he didn't think he'd be getting any serious modelling work for awhile. He walked out to his desk, picked up the card, and decided to find out more about it.

The website for this gym seemed extremely professional: Biotech Fitness Facility: where technology helps you get the body of tomorrow, today. The place seemed pretty intense: it was a live-in facility, where for a period of one month club members would spend every day within the facility, allowed only minimal communication with the outside world, while focus was placed on training and diet. Programs were tailored specifically to each individual, using systems Trent had never even heard of. The pictures of the place seemed nice--very high-tech looking facility, with a private beach, several saunas, a pool...

Trent stared at the screen, pondering it for awhile, then picked up the phone. Simon answered. "Hey, man, it's Trent--the guy from the bar," he began nervously. "I was just looking at this card... What's this place run you?"

"For you," Simon said, seeming eager that Trent was interested, "not a cent. I had to pay to get in, but with member sponsorship, it's completely free."

Trent couldn't believe it. "That's impossible. No way could they let people in for free to a place like that. What's the catch?"

"No catch. Loads of different companies come scouting the place looking for talent... Modelling agencies, Hollywood execs, sports teams, even the military... The place is known for consistently putting out top of the line men, at the top of their game, bigger, stronger, and fitter than anywhere else. They subsidize the place. To keep membership going, members are required to sponsor someone new. If you're interested, I could submit you for review. If you qualify, you're in. Sound good."

It sounded much too good to be true, but the offer was very tempting. Trent agreed.

* * *

Trent finished his workout about an hour after Simon had already left. He had wanted to talk to Simon, ask him some questions, but for some reason he was so into his workout that he hadn't been able to think of anything else. His whole body felt like it was surging with energy. It was amazing. The feeling of power was almost intoxicating. As he finished, his muscles felt pumped like never before. He gazed at himself in the mirror. Was he bigger than when he came in?

He walked up to the metallic door and placed his hand on the handprint. The door slid aside, Star Trek style, and he walked into what was known as the "intermediary room," a smooth metallic room (like almost all of the others in the building) with various screens flickering on the walls. "Hold still for body scan," an electronic voice sounded, and the floor beneath his feet lit up, a circle of green light. Then, a screen to his right lit up, listing his statistics. In the week that he'd been here, he'd already gained 5 pounds--and his bodyfat had decreased by 3%! He smiled, but his pleasure was interrupted as a panel below the screen moved aside, revealing a flask of red iridescent liquid. He picked it up and swallowed it. "Every time, it's a different kind of supplement. Weird." He meant to question Simon about it later (since he never saw a single other human being while he was there--"It's a very private institution. Everything's automatic, the only person you're permitted to see is your sponsor," Simon had assured him). The screen then flashed his schedule for the rest of the day, and tomorrow. He was to go to the pool and swim for an hour, then to the sauna for 30 minutes, and then to the pool. He sighed. This was all very strange but he couldn't argue with the results.

* * *

Trent had been at the facility for about three weeks now, and he had fallen right into the tight schedule that was dictated to him by computers. He was having amazing results--he'd nearly doubled in size since he'd arrived, and his bodyfat was lower than ever. He was also stronger than he ever imagined he'd get in three weeks' time. He sat in the sauna, letting the steam and the heat relax his body. The only thing was, he never seemed to ache at all, only felt stronger and more energized every day, until scheduled bedtime every night, when he felt tired and fell asleep. Simon had mentioned something to him about some supplements being in the steam. Trent was worried about these mystery "supplements" he was receiving, but he couldn't feel any ill side-effects. The computers always reported him in perfect health.

He went to the showers, and as he lathered up his body he couldn't help but revel in how amazing it felt to rub his hands all over his huge body. He placed his hands on his pecs, making them bounce one at a time. Then, he crossed his arms, putting each hand on the opposite bicep, making them bounce under his fingers. He felt unbelievably aroused, but the computer interrupted his self-indulgence: "Terminate shower, return to quarters for recuperation," it commanded. He quickly rinsed off and did as he was told, amazed and a little disturbed that his dick had gotten rock hard just by feeling himself up. He also noted that his dick seemed bigger--almost an inch or two longer than he remembered it, and even a little thicker.

He returned to his quarters, now accustomed to not seeing another living soul other than, occasionally, Simon. Sometimes the computer allowed him time to watch television, but the channels were restricted, and most days he had to go without. He didn't really miss it, though... Most of the time he was too wrapped up in his workouts, and his own body, to think about anything else.

Trent went to bed, falling asleep immediately as he did every night. He fell into a deep sleep, dreaming that he was about fifteen feet tall, a huge massive monster of muscle. In his dreams, he smashed walls and flipped cars, an unstoppable force. The feeling of flexing his huge muscles was incredible, better than any sex he'd ever had.

He woke up the next morning with a start--Did I have a wet dream? he said as he panted. He stood up and checked his sheets--sure enough, he'd ejaculated while he slept. His body still tingled, and as he rubbed a hand over his stomach he felt his dick stand at attention once more.

He quickly switched the sheets and threw them in a hamper--he never did know who cleaned his room every day, but he had ceased wondering. He threw on an Abercrombie shirt and some shorts, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but stare. He turned to the side, turned around and looked at his reflected butt in the mirror. The sight of his own body was intoxicating. Look at me... he thought. I'm fucking huge!

He was bigger, even, than Simon was. "Hunh," he said aloud. He didn't notice that his voice had gone a half octave lower, since it was changing gradually every day, but the rumbling in his chest made his nipples hard. "Simon's hardly changed a bit since I started here. Guess my big body just reacts better to this stuff than his does."

He ran into Simon in the intermediary room. It was rare that their workouts were scheduled at the same time. Simon's eyes went wide as Trent walked in. "Damn--LOOK at you!" he said. A month ago, the way Simon gazed at Trent, his eyes almost hungry as they travelled every inch of his huge body, would've made him uncomfortable. But Trent just smiled, ate up the attention. He puffed out his chest, stretching his shirt almost to the tearing point, and put his hands behind his head, flexing his arms to their fullest. "Just imagine how much bigger you'll get in your last week!"

Trent paused, letting his body relax. "Last week?"

"Yeah, next week, this cycle's done, and you can take some time off, get out into the real world." Simon laughed at Trent's confusion. "What, you didn't think you'd live here forever, did you? Geez, how do you think I met you? You take time off, and most likely some modelling agency will pick you up and you can go at it. Or, if you want, you can come back to do another cycle. You need to find someone to sponsor before that can happen."

As Trent guzzled down the translucent purple supplement, he suddenly realized he hadn't thought much about leaving. He had almost forgotten the outside world entirely. But with any luck, he could get signed by an agency and make some real money. He kept the idea of finding someone to sponsor in the back of his mind, eager to return as soon as he could. He thought of what one, or two, maybe even three more cycles could do to his already huge body. As he closed his eyes and imagined, he almost fell down.

He and Simon walked into the weight room. Trent was assigned bicep curls to start, and he took his position in front of the mirror with a smile. As he pumped the heavy weight, he felt his body get warm and tingly. Just the feeling of taking in each breath, the power with which his muscles inhaled, got him excited. He couldn't wait until the showers, where he planned to use one hand to wash and one to relieve the excitement building in his lemon-sized balls.

* * *

The final week was now over, and Trent was nearly unrecognizable from the man who had walked in just a month ago. The computers had instructed him to go to a room he'd never been in before for "Reacclimation procedures." He didn't know what this meant, but as he walked to the room, he didn't care. The feeling of his lats pushing his arms out further than ever before, his biceps rubbing against them as he walked, was intoxicating. His huge quads pushed each other apart too, and he had to adjust to a different stance and walk, which he did so with pride. When he arrived, he walked into a room with a glass wall running through the center, sealing off a metallic chamber. There was a door in the glass wall, and next to it, protruding from the wall was an odd hollow cylinder made of glass, with several computer screens around it. Simon was waiting there, and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw him. Trent just smiled, flexing a bicep for his friend's enjoyment.

"You're huge! You're a muscle monster!" Simon exclaimed, walking up to him. He rubbed his hands along Trent's chest, up and down his arms. Trent couldn't get enough of the feeling of this guy admiring his big body. The thought crossed his mind that one of the first things he was going to do when he got out was go out and pick up a girl... oddly, it occurred to him that he might enjoy it more to have someone, maybe even Simon, come home with him, stand in awe of his physique and worship him just like this. "Congratulations. Your first cycle did wonders."

"I know," Trent boomed, a little disappointed when Simon removed his hands. Simon walked over to the screens next to the odd cylinder and touched a few sections on one of the screens.

"This is the reacclimation chamber. So your body doesn't go into shock when you get out of here, it basically brings all levels of the hormones and chemicals in your body to an acceptable level. It's crucial to go through this process, or you could have severe health problems when you get outside." Simon spoke, but Trent wasn't listening. He couldn't get his eyes off Simon's ass as he bent over, thinking about how much bigger his own bubble butt was. He looked at Simon's calves, thinking that his own powerful legs were about twice the size. "You ready?" Simon said, interrupting Trent's thoughts. The door slid open and Trent strode across the floor, still intoxicated by the feeling of his muscled body moving. He walked into the chamber and turned. The door slid shut, and a pale white mist filled the room.

For a moment, nothing seemed amiss, but as Trent breathed in the mists he felt strange, his skin suddenly extremely sensitive. As he moved his arms he felt his cock go rock hard in his pants. The feeling of his shirt rubbing against his nipples was almost more than he could bear. He closed his eyes, not caring at all that Simon could see the huge tent he had pitched in his pants. One by one he flexed his muscles, almost involuntarily. His strength felt like an incredible song within him, and he went with it. He didn't even notice as the mist around him went from white to blue.

Suddenly, he felt incredibly dizzy, uncomfortably so. He opened his eyes, suddenly nervous. His legs wobbled and he fell to his knees, struggling to stand but unable to do so. His body felt like it was vibrating, but it wasn't pleasant like the tingling sensation had been before. He suddenly felt incredibly tired.

He was shocked as his shirt, which had been nearly skin-tight before, began to loosen. He couldn't believe his eyes as his huge chest started to deflate, his biceps and forearms following suit. The collar of the shirt, which was nearly cutting into him before, became loose. He wobbled backward, onto his butt, but felt himself sinking closer to the floor as his glutes started shrinking as well. He ran his hands along his quads, which were shrivelling up, just like the rest of his body. In a panic, he stood up, his pants falling to the floor, the waist now impossibly big. Where he expected to feel abs, he felt nothing but smooth skin. The mist around him had turned completely blue, and it looked like it was getting sucked out of the room. Then, the room was empty. Trent looked helplessly at Simon, who was grinning wider than Trent had ever seen him, his arms crossed.

Trent stood up, shaking, and looked at himself. He was tiny! Not only was he about as skinny as he was when he was 15, but he had shrunk too! Where once he stood at 6'3" tall, he was now about eight inches shorter. The door slid open, and Simon just stood there, grinning. Trent grabbed his loose pants, pulled them up, and stumbled out of the chamber. He turned to Simon, feeling a terror within him that he could barely comprehend. His mind reeled, trying to accept what had happened to him. The change really sunk in as he stood next to Simon and, for the first time since they'd met, he had to look UP.

"Look at you. Skinny little twerp." Simon grabbed the bottom of Trent's now very loose shirt and pulled it up, looking at the puny body underneath. "Look at that. Skinny as a rail." Trent fought, but Simon effortlessly pulled the shirt over his head, laughing. He then reached out and gave Trent a shove, and he fell backward against the wall.

"What..." Trent tried to work up the nerve to say something, but was shocked into silence when he spoke in a weak, high-pitched voice. He sniffled, then spoke again: "What'd you do? How... this is impossible!"

"Not at all," Simon said. "Illegal? Kind of. Years ahead of recorded science? Definitely. But it can't be impossible. Take a look, feel that body you were so proud of a few minutes ago."


"You've been completely remade, genetically. That's the point of this whole club." Simon walked over to Trent, who was cowering in the corner, and gazed down on him. "Think of yourself as a fruit. We made you ripe, and then we juiced you. That's the point of this whole place. I'll be honest, I haven't been training or going through the program like you have. I just made it look like that so I could check up on you in person. This whole facility allows people like me, with money, to get as big as guys like you. At least, how you were." Simon reached down and grabbed Trent's arm. He jerked, trying to pull away, but Simon's hands were too strong, his fingers touching as they went around him. "Look at that, your tattoo's gone. Didn't expect that. And your hair..." He rubbed a big hand over Trent's now short hair. Trent felt helpless, completely within Simon's power, as the huge hand passed over his head.

"See, the process they created can add unbelievable amounts of muscle to a person," Simon began, "but it never lasted. Had you continued, even on the program as you had, your growth would have decreased and finally reversed itself until you were back the way you were a month ago. Which may not have been as big as you were this morning, but still bigger than you are now!"

Simon strode confidently toward the cylinder coming from the glass wall. It was now full of glowing blue fluid. "So they found out that if you build the muscle in one person, then drain it and infuse someone else with that essence, the muscle gain was permanent. Wealthy members like me go out, find some young hopeful with potential, bring them hear, and make them huge. Then..." He extended a hand toward Trent's shivering, puny body and laughed. "We juice you!" He rubbed his hand along the cylinder. "All that muscle, right in here, all mine for the taking..."

Trent stood up and ran toward Simon, reaching for the blue cylinder. Simon shoved the him back on the ground, then grabbed him under his armpits and lifted him high off the ground. Trent kicked, helplessly, trying to struggle against the muscular arms holding him down, but Simon barely noticed his resistance. "Don't bother, buddy. You've been remade genetically, down to each strand of DNA. This is your new body, and there's no changing that. You could try to go to the gym, maybe tone up, but you'll never be bigger than you are now. All of that potential is gone, and it'll be mine pretty soon." He dropped Trent on the floor, then got up close in his face, gazing into his eyes with a powerful, commanding expression. "Don't fucking move," he commanded. Trent trembled. After that, he could barely muster the courage to stand.

Simon turned around and punched some buttons on the screen. The glass door slid aside and he walked into the chamber. He walked up to the glass, giving Trent a close up view as the door slid shut. The cylinder started to slowly empty as the chamber filled with blue gas. Trent watched in horror as Simon inhaled the blue mist, which seemed to absorb into his body. With each exhalation, Simon's chest started to puff out bigger and bigger, until his wifebeater split at the seams. Simon inflated like a balloon, his body expanding with rippling muscle. His shorts tore apart, letting loose Simon's huge dick, which seemed to grow to about ten inches, his balls expanding like tennis balls. Then, the cylinder was empty, and the mist dissipated. The glass door slid open and Simon walked out, the room shaking with ever footstep. He flexed for Trent, enjoying showing off the muscles that the skinny little wimp would never have again. Then he knelt in front of Trent, a huge smile spreading across his chest.

"Y'know, you're not the first one," he said, his deep baritone voice nearly shaking the room as he spoke. "I used to be even smaller than you are now. The last guy, same as you, some dumb jock who wanted to model. You're lucky; he ended up barely five feet tall, only about eighty pounds. Funny thing, though... Your brain chemistry will adjust, and your memory of me, of this place, of your entire life before will disappear, and you'll think you've been a pussy little stick boy for the rest of your life. But until then..." He grabbed Trent firmly by the back of the neck and lifted him effortlessly from the floor. Trent's pants fell completely off, and he, too, was naked. His little dick, now only about three inches long, jumped to attention as Simon took control. "You're mine for now."

Simon carried Trent's light little body to an elevator that lifted them to the back of the facility, to the private beach. He walked out onto the sand, toward the waves gently lapping in, and threw Trent roughly aside. He walked forward, thrilled by his incredible muscles as they carried him across the sand, and slowly lowered his gigantic, nude body into the water.

Trent watched, shaking. How could this be? How could he be so small? He fought the sensations in his mind, the mild relaxation that was setting in. This isn't right! He thought. I'm huge! I'm not small... He fought to hold on to the feeling that his body had changed, but as he sat there, watching Simon move his powerful body through the water, he started to feel more and more comfortable. He felt weak, tired, but it started to feel natural. He struggled to remember his huge body, his powerful dick, but the memory was fading. And as he watched Simon stand up, the water dripping off his mammoth body, he couldn't help but think of less of how he used to be... starting feel more and more desire for Simon's body.

Simon walked up to him, standing in front of him. He whacked Trent in the face with his huge dick, laughing as Trent fell limply to the ground. Trent stood up, feeling his stinging face, and looked at Simon... He was filled with envy... with desire... he wanted to touch it...

Trent slowly, nervously, approached Simon's large form, raising up his shaking hands as he reached for the heaving chest. "S'funny," Simon boomed. "This is always a side-effect. The straightest arrow of the bunch comes out wanting nothing more than to worship his sponsor. I dunno if it's you, reacting to what I stole from you, wanting it back, or..." Trent's hands touched the huge chest, feeling its steel-hardness, and Simon laughed. "You don't give a shit, do you? You're not even listening." With one effortless motion he knocked Trent down again, flipping him over and holding him down. He positioned himself, his powerful arms wrapped around Trent's torso. Then he jammed his dick into Trent's tiny little ass. Trent howled until a hand covered his mouth. For a moment, he was consumed with pain... but that was quickly replaced with intense pleasure... the monstrous arms holding him down, the feeling of such strength holding him still and entering his body, became pure ecstasy, completely wiping out the pain.

Simon shot an enormous load into Trent's tiny little ass, filling it to overflowing. Then, he let Trent go, his frail body crumpling to the ground, panting, absolutely overcome by the intense satisfaction of being fucked by such a muscle god. Simon turned back and approached the water, wading in a bit. He gazed back to Trent, who had managed to sit up, and was watching him, his hand playing with his little knob. Simon smiled, flexing his body for the little bug's enjoyment, and then enjoyed his swim. "Looks like I'm gonna be the one getting the modelling jobs now." •

This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.

Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.

Archive Version 070326