He made his way to the meat-packing district. To do various kinds of meat-packing. His heightened sense of smell led him to a curing house, where meat would be ready to eat. Clad in leather slings wrapped around his legs, loins, torso and arms with criss-crossed chains, he fearlessly entered a shop and accosted a man carrying a side of beef on his shoulder. Taking the meat up off the man, he bit into shoulder, chewed and swallowed. The man backed away from the strange leather-clad man the height of a basketball star and the width of a linebacker. Jack effortlessly held the cured half-cow in his arms and devoured the meat from the skeleton, cracking the heavy bones to suck out the marrow. Other men gathered and though married (or not) they began touching his thighs and back and chest, feeling the muscles swell and fill against the straining, protesting leather and chains twisting against the building pressure.

Jack still had money for the food and he'd dropped the bag on the floor, but though hundreds spilled out the men ignored the dough and began licking the leather-encased muscle of Jack's still-expanding blody. Jack was over eight feet tall now, close to five hundred pounds of fat-free muscle, and the workman stained themselves humping his legs and taking turns riding atop his cock as it stood out from his body nearly two feet. Jack ignored them and glutted himself; and his abs remained slightly concave despite the pounds of food he consumed.

By the time he'd had his fill, his muscles had finished their residual growth and pressed hard against the leather confines. The erstwhile slings creaked and groaned as he moved and the chains twisted under the tension of containing the hard rocks of his quads, lats and biceps. With a massive belch he lay down and let the men attempt to tame his cock. Only the bravest man tried to take it in, and he only got half-way before he shot his load and braced his legs against Jack's iron thighs to stop the penetration. Others massaged the shaft with strong meat-handling hands, their blood-stained arms bulging and flexing as they worked his beef. Jack fondled the hard bodies of the men beside him, toying with their comparatively miniature cocks, until the grunting men squeezing his manhood and twisting his balls coaxed the come to well against his muscle control. He kept the pleasure-pressure building until even his strength couldn't hold it back and when he fired his cannon he blew the man sitting on it clean off with his hydraulic force. Come fountained out and plastered the workmen all around him in delirous streams of froth. When it subsided minutes later, Jack rose, tucked his cock back into its sling-codpiece and wandered back through the alleys to stretch his legs. The grown men whined to see him go, dripping come down the alley.

Out near the warehouse district he heard sound equipment being delivered. It was twilight and apparently a rave was happening later. He found an unguarded door, grabbed the padlock and squeezed. The metal held a minute then compressed under his pressure, the internal works cracking. The housing split open on one side and Jack let the pieces fall to the ground and twisted the locking bar straight with a quick SCRANK. Kicking the debris into a dark corner he curled up and caught a nap.

The sound of the party woke him. He stretched, and the leather crackled, the chain links clinked. He flexed his arms into a double-biceps and the leather couldn't handle the muscle, it ripped open around each peak and the chain links trembled. He tightened his fists and links shattered, ricocheting shrapnel through the warehouse. One piece puncture the front end of a forklift. He stripped the remains from his arms and went to party.

Just before he entered he remembered his third bean. He removed it from the tight squeeze at the top of his thigh but it was so hard it hadn't been affected. He decided to test it and bit down, hard. Immediately his vision blurred into colors and flashing lights, and he staggered backward. His senses whirled and spun. He swallowed the two halves and spat. Slowly he regained his balance, and walked into the rave. Everyone stopped and stared.

Some people moved away but more moved closer. The music changed to a heavy tribal beat and the bean began to take effect. His muscles rippled up and down his body, with each flexion growing bigger, harder, denser. The leather filled, bulged, ballooned and finally split open. The chains stretched as far as the steel would allow and links began to shatter into pieces. Not wanting to kill anyone he grabbed the metal siding of the warehouse and ripped out a section of wall, rapping himself in it. The links thumped and cracked against it but their impetus was slowed and they didn't fly. But his muscles bulged out against the metal, thumping it harder and forcing little rents in the corrugation.

When he dropped the siding the links and leather scraps fell to the floor and he stood naked: but still growing. His height had reached ten feet and his cock could have been used for a yardstick. Two musclemen began doing chinups off it but it was so thick and iron hard they couldn't get a good grip and slid off. His pecs filled out to the sides like huge shields and layers of muscle rolled around on top. Even his nipples grew to the size of silver dollars, sticking down two inches from the underside of his pecs. His shoulders striated and split, his triceps thickened until they resembled koalas clinging to the thick trees of his upper arms, and his biceps formed a slight peak even when extended.

His thighs distended to the circumference of the biggest guys' chests, the muscle rioting against itself. His abs cobbled into ten distinct hard rocks before smooting into the vein-streaked floodplain above his cock. His balls hung down halfway to his kneeds and his calves flared apart like slabs of granite. His lats stood straight out from his tapered waist, dense pulsing masses that grew veins before the spectators eyes to feed the newborn hungry muscle. Partiers began feeling his hot (literally) body and trying to squeeze his inedible cock with bearhugs and leglocks that made Jack shiver with pleasure though the combatants trembled on the verge of muscular exhaustion. Men tried to pry apart the heavy globes of his ass but when he clenched them crowbars broke off. He relaxed and let men explore his asshole. Men crawled over him like a fucking jungle-gym and he posed and felt them slide off his granite muscles, unable to dent his flesh.

He jumped up and grabbed to I-beams that supported the rafters and began doing pullups. At the top he flexed his boulder-sized biceps and the I-beams creaked, protested and bent inward. The roof rattled as he sank down and rose again, pulling and flexing and further crippling the roof structure. Rafters pulled loose and rained dust and bolts onto the crowd. A crack opened in the roof and people ran outside, screaming. He dropped down and walked through the loading dock doorway, nearly filling it. The men who hadn't fled waited for him.

For the first time since this had all begun Jack wondered where he could live, how he could live: more importantly, how could he live without ever fucking or being fucked? For he was too huge for any other man. Yet his mind seemed to have grown along with his body and sex, and the men enslaved to him could tell his concern. Some men left and others approached to stroke and sooth him. He sat on the edge of the loading dock and strong men caressed his cock, hugging, squeezing with arms and legs. Working up a cyclic rhythm three men began to milk his cock. It grew harder and thicker and impossibly longer, rising up so powerfully they couldn't restrain it. Using their combined weight of nearly seven hundred pounds they brought it out from his belly as he leaned back and gave himself up to them, and the more they squeezed and crushed the harder he grew. Exhausted, they were replaced by three more bodybuilders who worked feverishly. Other men worked his balls, which took quite a bit of punching to feel anything. Each man worked one nut like a punching bag, and Jack sighed and rippled his abs.

These too fell cramping and twitching only to be replaced by five more fresh men. Jack's cock began to twitch and jerk and the men fought it, wrestling it down and trying to ride it until with a groan that rattled the warehouse he began to shoot thick streams of firehose come all over the assembled men. The three laborers tried to aim it but it was uncontrollable, spasming jizz up into the air and out over the crowd, an unending flow. Gallons of hot stinking dickspit spewed into the hungry mouths of the men who jerked their own cocks in orgiastic frenzy.

A truck slid into view over the come and men scrambled out of the way. Jack jumped up and stopped it's skidding. A moving van, empty. But Jack wasn't leaving in a box. He grabbed the top of the van and pulled. Bolts broke off and flew and the steel tore under his hands. Forearms writing as the steel bent and curled up, Jack tore the roof off. Then holding it up for inspection, he proceeded to roll it up like a newspaper, his muscles bunching and writhing as the steel folded and twisted under his fingers. Taking the roll, he held it before him and twisted it: and it bent, twisting, in his unyielding hands until it doubled over in agony. He tossed it in the back of the truck for a pillow, climbed into his new convertible and let the men drive him off into the night.

After a couple of hours Jack awoke to the crisp panoply of desert stars. The truck entered a compound. Standing up, the truck groaning beneath his shifting weight, he looked out over the top and saw a vast complex under construction: on a scale fit to suit him. Coming out to greet him, rumbling the ground with each step, was the hustler who'd sold him the beans. He was as big as Jack, if not bigger, and even more dazzlingly handsome than before.

"So you climbed the beanstalk to find the giants," he said, chuckling, and shaking Jack's hand with a grip that could crush a beer keg. "I'm Nick. Come meet the others. We think you'll like it here. We have all the slaves we need, and if any of them show promise, well, we can save the hothouse tour for later." They laughed and it echoed off the mountains. And came to a giganting pool set not into concrete but steel.

Immediately Nick turned and began chewing on Jack's nipple. Nick's cock swung up like a baseball bat and lodged inside Jack's thigh; Jack's manpole tangled with it as he compressed Nick's relaxed traps and stroked the mountainous terrain of Nick's back. Nick kissed him, and their hands explored their giant bodies, feeling the muscles quiver and fill as their virility rose to come between them. Jack felt another pair of hands peel apart his flexed cheeks and gasped at the strength: and at the torpedo that rammed up his chute, exploding pleasure and pain into his brain. He couldn't stumble as newfound weakness took out his knees for other hands supported him, stroking and probing and licking and biting him. Nick turned around and Jack instinctively thrust his sexlimb up Nick's ass, pumping and plunging and grabbing handfuls of lats and reaching around to Nick's monstrous pecs that rose eight or more inches off his heaving chest. Nick flexed his Himalayan biceps and Jack grabbed them, gasped at their hardness and involuntarily shot his load into Nick's pulsating ass. The guy fucking him felt him clench and rammed deep as his come burned grooves into Jack's guts. Giant men all around them began coming, stomping the steel pavement and denting, howling and screaming in joy as muscles bulged larger and cocks thickened in the act of coming, stretching out assholes and rending fuckees helpless with ecstacy.

They fell in a steaming tumble; some fell into the warm pool and the come floated to the surface in beautiful white streamers. Jack could smell whole cows roasting on spits and dozed off with a giant smile on his heart-stopping face.

The End. •