He went to the stove and started boiling water for oatmeal, then he went to the bathroom to take a piss. His stomach growled and empty growl, and he went back to make his breakfast. Each movement was a symphony of pain, a signal of the success of his workout. The reward for enduring the pain was strength, muscle and the respect and awe that came with them.

Chris made a huge bowl of oatmeal and a protein shake, and ate them so fast it was like he had never seen food before. His stomach still growled, so he began to make a second bowl. While it cooked he showered. The hot water felt good as it splashed on his massive body, and he massaged his powerful form with his big hands. As he stepped out of the shower, he stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. He struck a double bicep and admited his form. It was the form of the alpha man -- big and powerful. He felt his cock twitch as he admired himself, secure in the knowledge that any woman would kill to be with him and any man would kill to be him.

He walked back to the kitchen and ate his second breakfast in less than half an hour. Mike had told him to take another injection, so he did. By the time he got dressed, he felt pumped for the day. He got into his truck and drove to work.

When he got there, he was met at the door by his boss and two security guards. His boss had a black eye, and he knew something was up.

"Sorry Chris, I can't let you come in," his boss said.

"Why? Wassup?" Chris tried to push past, but the guards stepped forward.

"Chris," his boss's voice cracked showing his fear, "I don't want any more trouble. I've got to let you go. I've got your stuff..."

"What do you mean trouble? What's going on? What did I do?" Chris was getting agitated, and the two guards grabbed each of his arms. Immediately, their faces showed fear as they realized the size and power he had. He would have laughed at how pathetic they looked if the situation weren't so serious.

"Chris, you've always been a good employee, and really, it isn't you?"

"Did something happen?" Chris could tell from the guy's face that something did. "Did a guy named Ron..." The manager jerked back, and he didn't have to finish the question. Chris felt his blood pressure rise with anger. He looked at the box on the ground that had his stuff in it. Without a word, he bent down and picked it up, then turned and left. When he got to the truck, he started and began to mutter, "gonna fucking crush him." He felt his shirt stretch and tighten as his muscles flexed in anger at what just happened.

Chris drove back to his house. His stomach was growling again. He dropped the box, then grabbed at his work shirt by the neck and pulled, ripping it off his body while screaming a primal scream. As the shirt ripped off, his torso flexed and he looked like the hulk coming to life. He stormed into kitchen and grabbed two cans of tuna, downed them with two glasses of water, then made another protein shake.

As he ate, his situation dawned on him. Ron was out to destroy him. He knew how to get big. A man needed to eat big and lift heavy. Ron thought he had taken the gym away from Chris, but that wasn't enough for the asshole. Now, he had taken Chris's job. It cost Chris hundreds of dollars a month to buy food, and with no job, his bank account would soon be sorely hurting. He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do.

When he got to the gym that night, Mike picked up on his mood right away, and offered a solution. "Tank, he's going after you to get to me. I've told you what he does. He uses gyms until they dry up, then he moves on. He needs this gym right now, and he needs me to get him the juice, so he's destroying you."

"That suppose to make me feel better," Chris asks as he grabs a bar and starts to do some serious deadlifts.

"I won't let that happen to you. I can't! Look, I'll put you on the payroll. I need you huge, man. I need you to destroy him."

"Fuckin crush him," Chris grunts, interrupting.

"What d'ya need. Five grand a month do you? You got it. The gym is free. The special juice is free. Shit man, anything you need."

Chris finished the set. "You train me, pay for it, and I'll fuckin turn that shit look like the little dwarf he is." Chris extended his hand, and Mike took it. They had a deal.

Mike lived up to his end of the bargain, and so did Chris. Each day was like the first. Chris work up more sore than he had ever been. He spent his time eating and training. He changed his schedule so he could spend nearly all night in the gym lifting. He slept during the day.

After a week and a killer back work out, Chris was moving rather slow. "Tank, you look like you could use a back massage."

"Fuck ya," Chris said, twisting and stretching his thick back. "Fucking full of knots back there."

Mike signalled to a table. "Take off your clothes big guy. I'll loosen those knots."

Chris stipped down to his jock strap. He thought he saw Mike catching glimpses of him, but he knew Mike wasn't that way. He laid on the table.

"Gonna need to a get a larger table for you," Mike joked as he placed his hands on Chris's traps. He squeezed. "Gettin' really thick, but man, are you tight."

"Feels good," replied Chris. "Tryin' to relax, but been lift'n real heavy."

"It's showing," replied Mike, working his fist into Chris's lat. He moved his hand to the groove leading to Chris's spine, and said, "These wings are so thick, two fuckin finger are vanishing in this divide."

"Gonna fuckin destroy Ron," Chris said, then added, "Man, that feels good."

"You been tracking your progress?" Mike asked.

"Been gaining, if that's what you mean."

"Hard to tell," said Mike. "To be honest, you're looking more ripped."

"Gained five pounds," said Chris.

"You been measuring?"

"Not in the past couple weeks. So big, need someone to hold the tape. You wanna volunteer?"

"Gotta track your progress," Mike said.

He continued to massage Chris's back, and could feel Chris relaxing. When he finished, Chris lay there while Mike grabbed a tape. Chris sat up, a content look on his face. "Ready to be impressed," he teased.

"Try me," Mike challenged.

"Try this," Chris said, slowly raising his arm then flexing hard. His bicep exploded with power, raising upward. He pushed his arm into Mike's face, a wall of muscle size. Mike wrapped the tape around it, looking at the number. "Like my 19s?" he asked.

"No," said Mike calmly. He dropped the tape, and looked at the scowl on Chris's face. "I love your 20s big guy."

"Ya," he slapped Mike in the chest. "That's an inch in a week!"

"And from the look at the pump on your chest,"

"Don't talk, measure!" said Chris, flexing his pecs and flaring his lats.

Mike wrapped the tape under Chris's arm, around the thick muscle bellies of his pecs and the thickest part of his back.

"56, pumped," Mike said. "But," Mike added.

"But what?" Chris said. "Huge has no buts about it."

"Look at your pecs. You're ripped." Mike made a fist and hit Chris's pecs hard. "Hard as armor, Tank! You've never looked this good. Only person I've ever seen better..." Mike didn't complete the statement.

"He's deadmeat!" cried Chris, "and you punch like a girl." Chris laughed, bouncing his pecs. Then he stopped, and looked at Mike. "He growin this fast," Chris said, flexing his powerful arm again and admiring the huge 20 inch peak. "Fast like this?"

"No, but he's growing. Put on a couple pounds last week."

"Ya, but I'm gettin bigger. FUCK…LOOK AT ME! Check out these wheels," Chris said, flexing his legs. Mike wrapped the tape around them, and announced a measurement of 29, then moved the tape to Chris's calves and announced a solid 17.

"Yep, you are huge," said Mike. "And we're gonna make you even huger."

Chris nodded his agreement.

"Why don't we catch a steam then get out of here," said Mike, lifting off his shirt. Chris looked at both of them in the mirror. Mike was big and toned, but looked like a runt compared to Chris's massive body. "Ya," Chris said, seeming to acknowledge Mike's suggestion but really noting his agreement that things were as they should be. Chris was huge, and the other men were small. Ya, that's the way things should be.

Chris peeled off his sweaty jock strap and threw it in his bag. Turning, he walked buck naked into the steam room with Mike right behind him. They sat down, and Chris noticed Mike staring at him.

"Somethin wrong?" Chris asked.

Mike hesistated, then said, "Your cock. Uhmmm... I don't..."

"What about it?" Chris said, looking down.

"Man, I don't want to give you the wrong impression, but, well, it always hang like that?" Mike said, acting kinda flustered.

"Like what?"

"I noticed it before, in your jock. Almost looked like you had a sock stuffed down there. And now, well, the way it's hitting the bench. Never thought you were that big before, that's all. You sportin a woody or something?"

"Been kinda horny I guess," Chris said, "but you're not my type." Chris smiled at his joke.

"Sorry I brought it up," said Mike, insulted.

"Hey bro, no problem. I dunno. I got a good 7 3/4 inches that drives the women crazy, but now that you mention it."

"Hold on," Mike said, getting up and walking out. He returned in a second with the tape. He threw it at Chris. "Go for it. You want some privacy?"

"Nah. If you ain't seen a hard-on by now." Chris started stroking. "Besides, you might learn somethin'."

"Asshole," Mike said, sitting down, but Chris noticed Mike's cock starting to swell as he watched Chris jerkin.

"Fucking huge body," Chris muttered as one hand jerked his dick into steely hardness and the other felt the weight of his pecs and hardness of his abs. "Man, you gotta measure ME. Feels too good to stop." Mike hestitated, then Chris growled, "Just do it!" Mike couldn't resist the power of his command.

He walked over to Chris, his own hard-on sticking out like a divining-rod, grabbed the tape. Chris pushed his cock out as Mike ran it along the top, then let go and walked over to watch Chris finish his business.

When Chris was done, Mike asked, "Didn't you say you were about 8?"

"Ya, why?" Chris said, a bit out of breath after relieving more tension.

"You're about 9 now. Just shy of it, actually."

Chris's eyes widened. "I'm fucking getting huge everywhere!" Chris said. "Man, that's great! Turnin' into fuckin superman!"

Mike looked at Chris in a strange way. "Hey, that gives me an idea," he said. They walked out of the steam room, then over to a locker. "This is Kaz's." Mike unlocked it, then pulled out something that looked like a torture device. "Never knew what this was before, but saw Ron with a couple tens in here." He handed it to Chris. "Does it fit over your cock?"

Chris tried, and put it on like it was some sort of jock strap with a chain suspended from his dick.

"Bet the jerk does some sorta dick curls with this or something. No wonder he keeps that bitch so happy," Mike said

Chris began to get hard again. "Grab a five," he said. Mike hung it from the chain, and it pulled Chris's rod down. He began to flex, forcing the weight up. He eeked out six. Mike could barely believe what he was seeing as his friend finished the last rep. "Take it off me," Chris ordered Mike.

"Man I don't know," Mike objected.

"This isn't about what you know," Chris said. "It's about making me grow. THAT MEANS ALL MY MUSCLES…Besides, you gotta track my progress, and that means getting an up close look." Chris glared at Mike, "Now do it."

Mike had no choice.

That was a month ago. Chris stood in front of Mike as Mike watched him do 12 reps at 30. His cock was now over eleven inches, and he loved the way Mike was shaking in his boots when he thought of what a powerful fuck Chris now was. His guns were now nearly 22 inches, his chest pushing 59, and his wheels were close to 34 inches around.

"Like what you see, little man," Chris teased.

"You bet," said Mike, moving to take the weight off the chain. He knew his place now. He removed the curl-device, freeing Chris's monster cock which slammed into his abs and extended above his belly button. "Shit Tank, looks like you might be actualy getting to big for this thing."

"Has been feelin a bit tight I guess," Chris said, smirking and flexing his cock in Mike's face. "Just too damned big, but still not big enough. I'm bettin little Ronnie's 10 inches is more like 9. We need a new one."

Mike stared at Tank, his mouth growing dry. "Yeah," he choked out. "Ah, guess so. I'll go pick one up tommorow."

Looking at the mirror, Chris said "Biggest man around, huh?"

"Soon," said Mike. "Saw Kaz today. He's up to 24 his arms and 61 on his chest. Even saw him using 30 on this thing today, and he did 15 reps."

"We're doing 35 next time," announced Chris, his voice displaying a confidence that he could easily do that much.

"I figure in another week or so, you'll outgrow him. In a month, you'll crush him." Mike said, taking off his clothes.

Chris stood, looking in the mirror, admiring his body, knowing that soon, he'd be even bigger. He looked to Mike, who also had a raging hardon, although it looked a lot smaller and thinner than Chris's. Looking at them in the mirror, Chris thought Mike looked like a little boy compared to his man's body.

Chris walked to the steam room, never looking at Mike. He opened the door, then sat down. "Look's like you got a little problem there Mike."

"Sorry," Mike said.

"Nothing to be sorry about," said Chris. "It happens to me. Got so much T running through me now, shit, I could go all night and never stop."

"Ya, I can imagine." Mike said.

"Don't know about you, but I gotta do something about this," Chris said, grabbing his own throbbing organ. "Thinking about some nice hot pussy," Chris's words began to trail off.

Mike's hand flew to his organ. "Man Tank, you'd rip her open!" he blurted out.

"Think so," he asked softly, imagining a woman worshipping his powerful body.

"Dude, you've got an elephant's dick there. You fuck her, and she'd probably scream like a banshee before passing out trying to take that meat of yours. And that's only your cock. Shit, you're 300 pounds on top of her, probably crush her with all that big muscle. And power, you're stronger than almost every man in this place. You think a woman can handle that power?"

"Love to see her try," Chris said, two hands now stroking his length faster and faster.

Mike tried to put both his hands on his cock, but he was too small. He watched Chris with envy, thinking his own hand could join Chris's and there would still be hard, fat man-dick sticking out. "Fucking three hander," he whispered softly, but not softly enough. Chris heard him.

"Ya, can't wait to test drive this big cock on a nice wet pussy. Her big breasts dripping cause she's so fucking turned on by the big man that's fucking her. Screaming. Thrusting hard into me. Me into her. Shit. Think about that."

"God," Mike said.

"Ya. I'm a fucking god," Chris agreed.

Mike watched Chris in awe, thinking about the huge man having his way with a woman. As he imagined it, he felt his balls pulling tight. He saw Chris's huge nuts doing the same. Suddenly, Chris shot. Eventhough he was on the other side of the room, Chris's explosion shot directly at Mike, hitting him in the chest. It stung like a paintball had exploded on him. His own inferior orgasm followed as Chris shot a second load, hitting Chris's abs with the same potent force.

Chris opened his eyes. "Oh fuck," he said, looking at Mike. "Sorry man!"

Mike didn't say anything, and Chris couldn't tell whether he was blushing or red from the hot steam. He got up, and came back with a towel, wiping himself off. Two red marks were clearly visible on his skin where Chris's jism had slammed into him. A few minutes later, both got up, got dressed and left. •