"Hello, again, Plexus. Just the DJ letting you guys know that you've done a freaking great job of building up the crowd so far. We've relieved a couple of the bartenders with some spares so that we can keep pumping up a little longer. And also for your growing pleasure we've had some more of the Gro-Go guys start making rounds. There wasn't time for all of them earlier, and it's been such a long time that we decided to call in extra help for the night. If you're lucky, you'll find that your dancing partner may be able to show off a lot more than the latest moves. Later, guys."

Each announcement was welcomed with successively louder cheers from the crowd. I started shouldering my way through the crowd in an attempt to take in as much energy as I could from the crowd. The fog and dance lighting made seeing clearly very difficult. The noise was only marginally louder than typical clubs, but the occasional burst of cheers from one section of the dance floor or another led me to believe that I was playing some version of blind muscleman's bluff.

In the distance I saw Tailor entertaining his group of friends. His partner was obviously ecstatic and a bit overly possessive of Tailor whose hips were at the level of most of his friends' shoulders. He was taking turns scooping up 2 or 3 of them at a time into a massive group hug and then letting them slide down and over his massive torso, cock and legs.

Big John was not far away, and he had almost caught up with Tailor with respect to height. He was back at his old trick of challenging the crowd to make his arms grow only this time he was using clinging fans instead of chains. Kneeling over, a couple of guys would grab ahold of his biceps and be lifted as he stood holding his arms parallel to the floor and stand for a few seconds before flexing. Just this much was more than some of the guys could handle as his arms and body would start swelling again, and one or both of the guys would lose their grip around the increasing girth of his upper arms. Some of the taller guys had more success as they would be able to lock their fingers on the upper side of his arms. This challenge kept him going for several minutes and he tried to push out the challenge by dropping his arms between flexes pushing the challengers backward between arm and lats. One of the challengers fell when his own body spasmed too much as he came during such a rest period.

Big John looked to his group for more support as he indicated that he would push this one more time. Hands groped at his legs and waist as he leaned back and drew up his remaining arm. Although he couldn't see the hanger-on in the face, Big John could certainly tell that he was close to dismounting him from the white knuckles visible on top of his extended arm. Knowing that this would do it even without growth, he slowly flexed and watched as the guy's hands were pried apart from the top of his peaking biceps. He could feel the crowd's local energy surging into him and didn't even have to look down to tell that he was beginning a major growth spurt. Continuing to concentrate on the task at hand, he savored the increasingly pumped look of his swelling arm as he came close the midpoint of his pose. Knowing that the guy would definitely not last out this flex, he paused for a moment to see the guys hands start to slip further down the sides having been pushed nearly 8 inches apart. Grinning, Big John resumed his pose feeling the poor guy struggle to hold onto the swelling mass above him. Finishing his pose, he smiled and stuck out his thigh to catch the guy as he finally gave up and lost hold. Rather than letting him slide to the ground, however, John apparently decided to give him a reward for providing so much stimulation. After letting the guy catch his breath, Big John set him on top of his biceps and let him slide back off of it toward the elbow. The rider then proceeded to massage Big John while he popped his biceps and performed a few more partial reps. Climaxing noticeably, the guy then just slumped forward atop Big John arm and shoulder. Kneeling down, Big John let him slide off toward the floor where he deliriously started stroking himself anew.

A squeal of delight caught my attention much closer. Turning off to the side, I saw a set of twins bubbling out of their tank tops with a very happy camper locked between them. Looks like someone had found one (or two as it were) of the mystery gro-go guys. They were massaging each others' arms around the noisemaker who was having trouble figuring out which direction he'd rather be facing. They were currently filling more out than up and I could see the bubble butt of the one closest to me making short work of his gym shorts as the seams came apart on both the sides and the crotch at the same time. These two had obviously worked as a tag team before because they started grinding their hips slowly into their captive just to see how long he could resist orgasm. He had little room for escape as pushing either direction brought his hips into contact with one or the other. By now they were both nearing a full head taller than he was, and they intensified their attack by grabbing each other in a hug that trapped the poor guy's face between their flexed and swelling pecs. Teasing him by releasing slightly, they exchanged looks and start bouncing their pecs around him. Trying to turn around the guy only stimulated them even more and soon found himself pressed into the protrusion of pecs behind him as well as their even more stimulated members. They then squatted down and squeezed him again between their chests. Making sure he wouldn't slip through by each threading an arm under his and placing it on their twins' obliques, they stood up and lifted him from the floor and renewed their hip grinding on the guy in time to the music.

Turning around I could see Rico offering similar pleasure to viewers as he had an informal line of attendants waiting to serve. Although we were still technically in public where lewd acts might not be considered appropriate, Rico was definitely pushing the line in this regard. In order to capture the energy of his devotees, he would pick each up in turn by grabbing their waist. After letting them ogle his arms and upper body fawning over the fact that he was showing no effort, he would kiss them lightly and lift them higher up in order to mouth at their crotches through their clothes. The longer they held out, the bigger (and faster) he grew.

Making my way back toward the spot where Todd had dropped me off, I looked up to see him straddling a concrete wall with a passage apparently leading to the restrooms. Looking across the dance floor, he caught sight of me and gave me the thumbs up. He then scowled and started motioning as if to tell me that I was doing something wrong. I thought at first he was teasing because I hadn't made it back to see him sooner. Then I heard someone behind me call out "I'm not doing anything wrong! Hold your load already!" Wondering who could have had the gall to say something like that to the largest man in the room I turned around and saw a guy in a white T-shirt and jeans resume a conversation with someone else on the floor. His olive skin contrasted greatly with the T and the bright smile he flashed when the guy finished talking. He had smooth skin and dark eyes that could have either been blue or green by the light of the room.

Without warning, he reached around his friend and gave him a large hug. Also without warning, he started growing up while embracing the guy. So much so that by the time he was finished, he had grown so tall that his cobbled abs were plainly visible below the hem. He stepped apart widely and, laughing a bit, he reached an arm out and placed it on the shoulder of the guy in order to pull him forward between his outspread legs. The width of his stance had put him almost face-to-face with the guy again, but he was not willing to stay there for long. I could see his legs start to bulge out of the denim as his shoulders and back widened out to match. Thrusting his hips forward into the guy, the gro-go guy started getting into it with a mock strip routine. With his free arm he pulled off the clinging white cotton by tearing it across his heaving chest. As if to indicate a long-needed release he inhaled deeply and continued swelling upward while using the T shirt to wipe mock sweat from his forehead. He paused enough to have a good look at his arms flexed at the top of the routine.

His legs had long since shredded the denim and I could see that he was wearing a pair of blue nylon shorts underneath. They did nothing to hide his own excitement. Fearing that he might lose balance, however, he then stood up to close to 8 feet and started flexing anew for his admirer while continuing the conversation.

Feeling courageous, I moved a bit closer to hear what was being said. Apparently he was in some doubt as to his new look. I could hardly believe it. He was actually questioning whether he looked good or not. Without warning, he called out to me "Hey, let's get another opinion. What do you think," he asked while towering up beside me.

"Incredible," I said.

"I know that already. I a bit conflicted about the finished look. I mean, which do you think I can carry off better? Off-season?" With that his entire frame bulked out to the point that I didn't think he could ever flex, much less walk. "Or shredded?" At this point he stretched into his bulked physique and lost all smoothness, his muscles rippling at the slightest of his commands. Mind you, he hadn't lost any mass; the same weight had been distributed over a taller, wider frame. "So what'll it be? Off-season? Shredded? Off- season? Shredded?" With each word his voice grew deeper and more rumbling, and he paused appropriately while his frame accommodated the massive growth that coincided with his words. At the last one I was pretty much at eye-level with his navel. I looked up to find him waiting for a decision.

"Perhaps you just need a closer view?" he asked and dropped to his knees in front of me. His friend came up beside him and didn't even wait for an invitation to start groping one of his arms. "Ooh, yeah," he moaned, "feel that mass." He flexed a single arm for us and the mound of flesh at eye level had to be well over 50 inches. Given that many of the gro-go guys were standing upright, a crowd soon gathered around for a chance at this much accessibility. I was soon pressed forward with the crowd all squeezing in to have a chance at massaging this late-comer on the floor.

"Rest assured, guys, there's enough to go around," he quipped "and if not, don't worry, I'll make more." He laughed and sprouted several more inches across his chest spreading a few hands noticeably in the process. And then he re-focused his attention on me and said "You know, you never did answer my question."

I moved in a bit closer and said "I'm not sure. I may need to review the options again."

"Not a problem. But I think I need to really accentuate the differences so that you can make the best possible decision." I agreed wholeheartedly. "Let's see, first there is off-season." He relished the look on our faces as his muscles started swelling out once. This time, however, we could see his head rising above our own as his frame also expanded to allow for more growth. "What about this?" he asked.

Feeling like a challenge, I asked him whether he was sure that this was as off-season as he could get. He smirked and gave a shrug as if to indicate that he also wasn't sure. Then the guys off to his sides were pushed away as his lats pushed so hard up under his arms that he could barely drop them past level. Tightening up, he invited a few of the guys to hang from his wrists as he flexed for us. Those closer in kept working on his quads as they had also pressed back on the crowd.

"Hmmm. Let's try something different. How about 1 week post- contest?"

He considered the options and said "not bad. All the mass with a nice relaxed attitude." We watched again as his head took another trip north, and his body defined itself with much of the added mass. Bouncing his pecs over our heads, he nodded appreciatively. Without warning, he stood up, and we were all amazed at his size. None of our heads now came up to his crotch, and he was very happy about this change. Smiling and assessing himself, he flexed one arm and then the other. Leaning over us, he roared into a most muscular and, just for effect, added even more to his size.

With that we heard a massive thudding coming up from behind us on the floor. Todd had walked over to have a pose down with the new giant on the block. They stood facing each other and matching each other pose for pose while those of us left below shocked at the sight. Grabbing the new guy in a massive bear hug, Todd announced that he was late and needed to report for work. They made their way back to the restroom wall and, both straddling and comparing muscles, resumed their patrol of the place.

I, meanwhile, felt a large thump on my back, and when I turned saw Jeff the jock - or rather - Jeff the jocks thighs smiling right at me. "Come on," he said "you're being challenged to a game of 'Chicken or Egg.'"

I barely had time to register my confusion before he grabbed me arm and hoisted me into a straddling position onto his thigh. I wasn't alone, however, as his other thigh was already occupied. "You're lucky, some guys would have already lost by now. It's a pretty simple game really," Jeff continued "winner gets a lap dance and chooses their next challenger."

"That's nice," I said, "but how do you play?"

"Chicken or Egg?" Jeff said "It's simply a matter of who came first."

With that he started rocking his hips back and forth trying to stimulate us into coming. My opponent was obviously weakened by his previous rounds as Jeff had barely started shuddering with growth before the guy went rigid and simply slid back off the leg.

"Figured," he said, "he was lucky to have made it this long. Ready for your lap dance?"

"Umm, no offense, but aren't you a bit too large for my lap?" I asked.

"You don't understand. You get to ride on my lap for the next dance," he said and pushed against my side until I was straddling him from the front. I tried to lock my legs behind him because, although there was more real estate up here, none of it was really designed well for holding at his size. He continued writhing for a minute or so when I heard another voice behind me say "Hey, I see you found him."

Jeff stopped and I looked around to see bartender Brad grinning at both of us. He was almost as large as Jeff and just as happy to be that way if his shorts were any indication. Without warning he grabbed Jeff in a hug, and I was squeezed between their chests as they held each other tightly. Letting off some, but still holding on, he explained that the guys up front had kicked him out for being too large. Apparently they wanted the evening to go on, so Brad didn't argue and decided to cruise the floor. I remembered one of the waiters saying that this guy was also the owner, so I was surprised that he didn't take the bouncer approach to treating himself.

"We've still got some time before things wind down," he said, "how would you like a personal tour?"

"You mean there's more to see than this?" I asked.

"Much more," he replied elusively. •