I started the pilot episode at, where else, Gold's in Venice. The subject was a well-known pro just starting pre-competition dieting for some exhibition work. He was halfway through his set of single-arm cable curls when I isolated him in his environment and removed him from the current timestream, leaving only the two of us in the gym.

"What the Fu . . .!" he said, trailing off in mid-swear. "Where did everybody go?"

"Just you and me," I responded "and we're about to have some fun . . . BIG TIME."

"Look, homo, I ain't doin' nothin' till I know what's going on."

"First the rules, big guy. 1. No one knows you're here or even that you're gone, so whatever goes on is between you and your muscle-worshipping fan. And since more men than women buy your magazines and go to your shows and yet you continue to pose/perform, you do the math. 2. Regardless of what happens, no violence. That means toward me or destroying your surroundings. I don't get off on domination, so don't bother. 3. Don't piss me off. What I do, I can undo . . . and I can make it permanent."

A dubious look on his face, he opened his mouth and said "why don't you just get me outta . . ."

Then I hit him with the first shot. Surprised, he doubled over. He was 5'9" when he bent over. As he straightened up, he was looking at me (6') eye to eye. "Oh, fuck," he said "this feels awesome." I kept him growing at a steady rate over the next few minutes. The oversize T-shirt he wore for off-season workouts tightened gradually over his chest as it bulged outward to the front and sides, straining the two buttons at the collar. The sleeves climbed up over his arms as they lost some of their off-season roundness, expanding from 23" to 26" and onward to 29" in a matter of minutes. Surveying himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but start to perform for himself. Slowly inhaling he brought his chest up and arms into a front lat spread. As he relaxed, his chest blew out yet again and this time pulled the buttons open. He stood open-mouthed at the chasm revealed by the opening. By now he was at 6'6" and obviously enjoying himself if his crotch was any indicator. He'd had the sense to kick off his shoes in a hurry when he realized what was happening, saving him some pain as his feet extended up to size 14. Although he was a full 9" taller, the shirt had only barely cleared the elastic waist on his baggies, which were gathered tightly around the base of his calves. "I guess it's what comes from off-season clothing," he said.

"Still want to leave?" I asked.

"Not a fucking chance. How did you say this worked again?"

"I didn't. Only that I get off on size - serious size. I also get off on guys who enjoy their size."

"No problem there," he said, "but first I have to get out of these clothes." With some effort he then brought his hands in toward the collar of his shirt as if to tear it off.

"Uh-Uh-Uh," I said. "We're going to do this the fun way. Allow me. Three poses, please -- another front lat spread, a most muscular, and finish with a slow and easy front double bicep."

He complied, and I started working a little more on him. He was incredible at the slow, sensual type of posing, and it made the results that much more enjoyable. As he adjusted his stance to accomodate the pose I added more fullness to his thighs, making taut even his baggiest of baggies. The curves on bottom weren't about to be outdone by what happened above. As he brought his shoulders up and out for the first phase of the pose, they broadened, and broadened, and broadened until his shirt sleeve revealed not only his full upper arms but half of his shoulders as well. It was hard for me to control myself as I heard the tearing of the fabric on the underside of his arms and down the side of his lats. He was still grinning as he surveyed himself in the mirror, lats now partially exposed and pressing his arms higher and further away from his sides.

Obviously pleased with the way the sleeve fabric lay loosely across his shoulders, he savored the sight for a few seconds and brought his arms fully out. Stepping forward and keeping eye contact with me throughout, he lunged forward into his most muscular. The rewarding sound of fabric pulling across his traps and down the front of his chest as they filled out even more. A few more solid pumps at the bottom assured him that he was finished here. Standing again to survey himself, he saw that the holes his sides had increased and were pulled tightly across the front to reveal the outer curves of his massive chest. Not able to contain himself, he bounced them a couple of times just to see them in action.

Smiling again, he slowly and deliberately started his front double bicep. Out of stage habit I guess, he looked up just prior to performing the pose. All the better, I thought, as he couldn't see me mutter to myself the words "going up . . ." He was halfway through the pose before he realized what was happeining. His arms reached the level of his shoulders as I saw the bottom of his shirt climb up over his navel, revealing the brick wall of his abs. As he pulled his fists into the heads of heads of his biceps, I defied him to finish the pose by swelling his upper arms past anything yet seen on stage or fantasy mag. Grunting and taking up the challenge, he fought a pumped more effort into it. Even as his body grew toward 7 feet, I continued to feed him additional body mass until his arms reached 40". Chest heaving, he threw down his arms, reached across his chest and pulled the remnants of his 'oversized T' from his newly acquired stature.

Although the waistline of his baggy pants was still intact and clinging to the top of his swollen thighs, the side seams had given out completely during this last episode. Disregarding the fabric hanging between his legs, he reached for the waist and ripped them off as well revealing his immense 58" thighs. Although his cock had grown a bit, at 6" soft it still seemed to lag a bit in comparison. Filling out what was left of his boxer briefs, he noticed this as well.

"How about some hands on work now?" I asked.

"After what you just did for me, you can touch me anywhere you want."

Not wanting him or it to get too large before I had a chance at this piece of meat, I started slowly. First I took the liberty of tearing off his briefs so as to have full access. I like taking a guy in first and then letting him harden, and this is how I proceeded here. If the groans were any indication, he enjoyed to heightened sensations his new size brought as well. I continued to minister to his needs, occasionally circling the glans with my tongue prior to swallowing him. As I continued I allowed this lagging body part to catch up to him, enjoying his gasps as it continued to come out longer and fuller than it went in. Finally he gave in and I was rewarded by several volleys of hot cum from his balls, which had swollen to the size of small oranges during our intercourse.

"Time for a break," I said. "Why don't you get to know yourself before we move on."

"Why don't you give me some stats? I like to measure my progress with the mirror and the tape."

"Very well. You're at about 7 feet in height and wiegh in at 650 pounds. Not a bad growth spurt I'd say."

"Fucking A, man. You said you get off on size, why don't we see how much more we can get you off."

"You want more already?" I asked.

"Fuck, yeah. I don't want to stop until you're completely satisfied and devastated by me. I loved being a freak before, walkin around with everybody staring and wanting to touch me; now there's just you, and you can touch me all you want, making it better every time -- with this body, there's no telling how much I'm gonna love seeing myself get huge and pumped."

"Enough talk, now I'm going to give you some tongue action." He stood up straight as I moved in toward his pecs. I love working over a guy's chest, especially the base of the chest where it meets the abs. The harder they flex and work to make it unreachable, the better it is. What he didn't know was that I never liked having to bend over to do it, so I blew him out quickly as I moved in.

"Holy Shit!" he cried. "It's happening again."

When I was done I was standing eye-level with a set of pecs that jutted out from his ribs by almost 6 inches. Nipples the size of gumdrops hardened to my tongue's touch across them. I looked up between his pecs to see him smiling down at me again. Realizing what I wanted, he brought his arms together around my head, crushing my face between the swelling mountains of his chest.

"In-fucking-credible," he said. His voice rumbling lower yet with this latest cycle. "Anything else you want rub your face in, like my thighs?" he laughed.

"Not just yet. Although I would like to go for something a little different."

"Such as . . .," he responded.

"Let's blow you out to off-season proportions."

"I normally wiegh in at 240 for contests and 290 off-season, what good would 50 pounds of water and fat do?"

"50 pounds at 5 foot 9 is about 20% over and above your competition body weight," I started. "Now that you're up around 950, that 20% comes out to be . . ."

"Omigod," he said as what was about to happen sunk in.

I was a full staff just thinking about the changes. Although not a fan of fat, off-season bodybuilders, I love a full, round, smooth men pumped out and still strutting their stuff. As his arms and chest lost their definition and were replaced by thicker rounder slabs of beef, my cock was throbbing and would need some relief soon. He groaned in ecstasy as his head and chin were forced up by the upward expansion of his traps and pecs. Soon he was unable to look down at me fully without bending at the waist which along with his belly had blown out to an amazing display of roidgut. Threatening to push me away even as it grew. His legs, once heavily striated, thickened out to fully round barrel size thighs hanging from the bone. The slightest movement of his knees sent the amazing mass swaying from side to side. I was in hog heaven as he dipped his right shoulder down and presented me his 55" fully pumped bicep for my inspection.

As he re-stood, I pressed myself up over his belly and once again pressed my face into his chest. He complied immediately by bouncing and flexing them in my face. This sent me over the top. I could no longer contain myself as I threw my head back, eyes closed, and reached down for my throbbing member. I gave several long, satisfying groans as I unloaded thinking of nothing but how much more I wanted. Then I realized that he had been groaning along with me and I opened my eyes and looked straight out at his belly button.

"Oh, Shit." I said, "I must have lost control a bit." The same enormous pecs which had been at eye-level now loomed a foot-and-a-half over my head. I looked up, unable to take him all in at once at this new size. The smile on his face hid nothing.

"You can lose control like that any day," he said as he bent over and curled his arm around me. Lifting me up to his eye-level, I took it all in. He had to have been 10 feet tall now and, still at off-season proportions, wieghed over a ton. He pulled me firmly toward his face, my entire thorax hanging down over his pecs. I could feel my cock, hard again, trying to press into the crevice between them. After kissing me, he lowered me slowly, intentionally sliding me down the front of his body. I shivered as my face was dragged down his chest, my arms stretched wide in an attempt to assess their size. I finished my downward slide by bringing my hands together along the underside of the 8 inch overhang of chest. As my feet re-touched the floor, I allowed my face to drop and bury itself in the only patch of hair on his body, breathing heavily down the 12 inches of rapidly-stiffening meat at my chin.

"Better let me handle this one," he said. Using his ample pre-cum as to lubricate himself. He quickly worked himself up to 2 feet pointed stiffly upward. Even his enormous hands could barely contain the width of his staff. Grunting and perspiring in true gym fashion, I watched (careful to keep myself in control) as he released quarts of cum through the air and over the empty benches. "Always wanted to do that," he concluded. He then walked over to one of the standard olympic bars on a nearby station, picked it up and planted it's end on the ground next to him. At his new size, the top end of the bar fell between his navel and pecs. "I'm gonna need bigger equipment to work out this bod." With that he took the bar by the end and flipped it up over his head. With his other hand, he grabbed the free end and brought the bar down across his traps as if to prepare for squats. His shoulders now being almost as broad as the bar itself, it was almost funny to watch his arm s! train in or to make it all the way down. In the end, however, he made it but not without seriously bending the bar over his bulging neck.

"How about taking me back to contest shape?" he asked.

Wanting nothing else but to see him happy, I started in on him again. But rather than allowing his skin to shrink-wrap itself over the muscles, I went again for a size increase. First allowing his frame to grow into his muscular proportions and then adding to it. "Fuck, yeah. If this keeps up, I'll need to go outside just for room to breathe." I was now eye-level with his crotch and looked up at one of the happiest bodybuilders on the planet. Although there was plenty of room between his head and the ceiling, I figured the equipment must be making it difficult for him to stand. In addition, the doors leading out would soon be too small for him.

"Very well, let's see if some fresh air will help you along." I circled around him dragging my hands across him as I went. My hands caressed calves that were 20" across and hard as boulders. I indulged in kissing his hamstrings and quads just to feel his immensity against me again.

Motioning for him to exit through the back of the place, he carefully made his way across the room to where the back gates were chained shut. Effortlessly he reached down and grabbed both chains and began to pull. The groan of the metal weld weakening and finally snapping on both chains filled the room. As they broke, he allowed the pieces to fall aside and pushed opend the chain-link gates. Stepping through the door, he commented "I've still got a few feet before the door would have been a problem."

Preparing for the finale, I made my way to the other side of small lot behind the gym. "What did you just say?"

"I said there was still room for me to make it through the doors," he replied, only just realizing the error of his statement.

In the short time, I had started to really work him. With no ceiling and plenty of space I let it go as I poured more and more into him.

"Aw, fuck," his voice booming, "I am fucking incredible."

I continued working on him as he turned around and realized that he was now almost as tall as the building -- 26 feet of man-muscle. Pose after pose he gave as his frame expanded. Reaching down, his cock exploded at first touch and sent cum flying out over the cars in the lot and into the street. "Shit, at this size, there's only one place to go and get cleaned up after that."

I watched as he turned to his right so as to make his way down to the beach. At this scale he seemed to be moving in almost slow motion. The only affirmation of his size came with the crashing of his feet on the pavement. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM as each massive thigh trembled with the landing of the foot. His shoulders must have swayed several yards from side to side as I watched him walk away. Oddly enough, not fading into the distance as one might have thought . . .

Fade to black. •