Overcast, ch. 25: Bulges

“Hard to believe tomorrow’s the big day,” Gage said, his thick arms flexing as he rested his hands on his hips. The stance emphasized all of the dark-haired hunk’s appealing proportions, from his broad shoulders and wide back, to his sculpted pecs and tapering waist. With his fingers pointing the way, the discreet lump in the front of his mesh shorts was made noticeable, though the meaty bubble at his back likely drew more attention as it formed a shelf for the bottom of his tight t-shirt. With his smooth pale skin and sharp, brooding features, Gage’s eastern european heritage was immediately evident, though guesses as to his profession remained ambiguous. With his icy stare and strong, symmetrical face, the buff beauty could just as easily have passed for a model as he did for a personal trainer. The latter was his actual role, with his duties as “business owner” being split with the equally-buff blonde standing next to him.

“Dude, we fuckin’ earned this one,” Brody said, nodding and mirroring his friend’s stance. The lantern-jawed jock looked every bit as impressive, which made sense considering that he and Gage had spent most of the time they’d known each other, the majority of their twenties, both competing and trying to keep up with each other. His short fade was a yellow gold as opposed to his friend’s jet black, his features were softer and more friendly, and his smooth skin bore a light bronze tan instead of Gage’s pasty complexion, but otherwise the pair looked to have been cut from the same mold. They served as twinspiration for their future clients, their ample muscles filling out their matching outfits in nearly identical fashion. The duo had further cemented their doppelganger status with a matched set of tattoos on their biceps, a string of arcane symbols that could hopefully pass for barbed wire at a brief glance. Though, if anyone did inspect the odd geometric markings up close, neither of the men intended to disclose their magical nature, or the fact that they’d gone to an artist who supposedly specialized in enchanted ink. A real caster was out of the question considering that they’d both blown all their savings on setting up the gym, and neither Gage nor Brody put too much stock in the sorcerous scripts adorning their beefy biceps, but they also figured a spell couldn’t hurt. They were starting a business and had the sinking feeling that they were in over their heads, so they’d take whatever help they could get. “I mean, I’d work out in a place like this all the time,” Brody shrugged, sweeping a sculpted arm around the open space. A cluster of machines lined one wall while a row of cardio equipment lined another, with the back wall being reserved for the various free weights, benches, and racks. The middle of the warehouse was left open for classes and crossfit activities that required room to move, and the whole thing was capped by a pair of well-appointed locker rooms with spacious showers and a sauna in each.

Gage laughed and slapped his friend on the back. “Good to hear since that’s exactly what we’ll be doing,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked towards the front door. “You don’t think we fucked up by not having windows?”

Brody shook his head. “It’s an old warehouse, man. Do you have the extra money laying around to put them in right now? I still say no one wants to feel like they’re an exhibit at the zoo while working out. And we’re not one of those meathead garages that’s going to have the whole front open all the time. It’ll be fine…it just makes us seem mysterious, you know? Like we’re exclusive or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Gage laughed, rolling his eyes. “Glad you left that out of the official business plan.”

Brody grinned and spread his arms wide. “Sink or swim time, bro. We’re in it now…no point worrying. If we flop, we flop. But come on…just look at us!” The beaming blonde turned Gage towards the wall of mirrors and flexed his tattooed arm, motioning for his friend to do the same. “Who wouldn’t pay to look like this? We clearly know what we’re doing, dude.”

Gage grinned despite himself, feeling the customary swell of self-assurance at the sight of his sculpted reflection. “When you’re right, you’re right,” he sighed. “I’m just antsy. I don’t think I’m going to get aaaaaany sleep tonight. I feel like I’ve been chugging caffeine all day, but I had, like, one coffee first thing this morning.”

“Me too,” Brody nodded. “Just the jitters. Why don’t we break some of this stuff in and see if we can burn ‘em off?”

Gage didn’t need any further encouragement. While his friend headed for the dumbbells, he went towards the machines, climbing in for a set of leg presses. He started light to warm up, his anxious nerves already calming after only a few reps, and by the time he upped the weight for a real challenge he was perfectly content. The familiarity set him at ease, the sight and sensation of his meaty quads tensing and inflating, his bulge highlighted with his shorts hiked up to his waist, the clang of the plates as they rose and fell; it was like flipping a switch in his brain. For those few sets, Gage wasn’t worried about anything other than his form, his attention set squarely on his powerful legs.

That serene focus was shattered by the loud thump of dumbbells hitting the matted floor, followed by Brody’s shocked yelp. “FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Gage rolled out of the machine in a flash, hoping it didn’t break as the footplate and weights slammed back to their starting point. “Are you okay? What happened,” he asked as he spun, entirely unprepared for what he saw. He’d expected Brody to be injured, not unclothed. Instead of the shorts and t-shirt his friend had been wearing, the blonde now stood in nothing but sneakers and a lime green poser. “Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Gage spat, his racing heart and spiked adrenaline slow in returning to their original state. “You better hope I didn’t just fuck up the leg press.”

“No…dude…I didn’t…I didn’t…” Brody stammered. His eyes were wide, his whole body flushed as he turned away from the mirror to look at his friend. “Gage, I swear to god, man. I was just standing here when all of a sudden my clothes just vanished! Where the fuck did this thing even come from?! I was wearing briefs,” Brody cried, snapping the elastic waist of the slinky strap. The buff blonde wasn’t embarrassed about his exposure, he knew he looked good in the revealing garment, but no amount of appreciating his exposed obliques or stuffed pouch could make up for the impossible transition in the first place.

“Suuuuure dude,” Gage grinned, looking his friend up and down. Despite his annoyance, he grudgingly admitted to himself that Brody actually did look great. Better than usual, even. Whether it was the gym’s purposefully flattering lighting, the rush of adrenaline, or his rattled state in general, Gage found himself eyeing his friend not just from an objective standpoint, but an attracted one.

“I’m serious! Where the fuck are my clothes, then? Do you see ‘em anywhere,” Brody asked, motioning around the open space.

Gage opened his mouth to respond, but closed it without speaking. Not only was his friend correct, there were neither clothes in sight nor places for them to be hidden, the other man wasn’t a good actor. The longer he stared at the nearly-naked blonde, the more Gage became convinced that Brody’s panic was legitimate, as was his own growing arousal. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. How the fuck does something like that just haaAAAHHHH!” The dark-haired hunk broke off in a startled cry when his own clothing followed suit, his t-shirt and shorts melting away to reveal a stuffed teal poser.

“See! I told you,” Brody cried, both validated and terrified.

“But…but how does that…” Gage stammered, running his hands along his bare, sculpted torso as if he needed the skin-to-skin contact to confirm the shirt’s absence.

“How the fuck should I know, dude,” Brody said, his own gaze now fixed on Gage’s bare body. “Did we buy a haunted warehouse?”

The pale pretty-boy laughed and shrugged. “It’s going to get real friendly real quick around here if this happens to everyone. Not sure this is what we want to be known for,” Gage said, giving his barely covered bulge a squeeze.

Brody’s eyes lingered as he spoke. “Sure as hell not what I meant when I said ‘or whatever’ earlier. For real, dude…what the fuck just happened? Where’d our clothes go, and why am I…” he stopped short, blushing when he realized what he was about to say.

Gage’s pale skin followed suit as he picked up the thread. “Staring at my dick like you’ve never seen it before? Yeah, man…you’re, uh…you’re lookin’ real good to me, too.”

A stretch of silence followed as the two stared at each other, awkwardly shifting their weight yet making no move to cover themselves. They’d seen each other naked countless times over the years in all sorts of situations, from locker rooms, to shared apartments, to drunken parties. They’d even fucked around in three-ways together, and while they’d enjoyed the thrill of solidarity in those situations, they’d never wanted to focus their attentions strictly on each other until now. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” Brody finally said, barely able to force his eyes away.

“Like this? And how? My phone and car keys are…” Gage trailed off as he looked around the gym, his eyes landing on a pair of unfamiliar bags now resting on the front desk. Though the black slings were unremarkable, something about them made his stomach drop. “Wait…were those always there?”

“I don’t think so,” Brody said, the tone of his voice making his own dread clear. “I don’t like this, man. I’ve got a really bad feel…ing…” the blonde sputtered and blinked, then shook his head and blinked again, the color draining from his face. “Gage…Gage! You…you’re bigger, dude! Holy shit…I think you’re growing! Fuck! So am I,” he cried, clutching at his expanding midsection.

Gage felt dizzy as he gawked back and forth between himself and their reflections in the mirrored wall, the pair of inflating forms already looking unfamiliar. Instead of sculpted and tapering, their carefully chiseled physiques now bordered on bulky. Cannonball shoulders were approaching boulder territory, prominent pecs became comically heaping slabs, arms thickened to pistons, tight abs bloated into lumpy muscle guts, bubbles ballooned into melons, and thighs turned into trunks. The already-skimpy posers became pointless against the onslaught of flesh, especially when the organs they struggled to contain grew to match the rest of the altered duo’s brawny new bodies. Each of their six inches lengthened and thickened to a fat nine-and-a-half, the bases of the hefty organs revealed as their weight pulled the posers low, leaving nearly all of their equally ballooning balls exposed. When the growth stopped a few moments later, the pretty pair had been swallowed by the sculpted beasts wearing close approximations of their faces. Once-fine features had filled out, necks vanished, arms hung at angles, everything rubbed together, and ranges of motion had been significantly altered. The crossfitted hunks had been replaced by what looked to be hung, heavyweight bodybuilders, their model-caliber appearance now rugged and intimidating. “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” the dark-haired hulk roared, his deepened voice echoing around the open space. “WE’RE FUCKIN’ HUGE, DUDE!”

“It’s the tattoos! Fuck! Don’t you feel that,” Brody cried, wincing at the way he struggled to reach one arm over to clutch his other bicep. “Mine’s burning like crazy.”

Gage followed suit, having the same reaction at how his inflated frame fought against itself. “But…but they weren’t supposed to be a big deal! We didn’t go to a fucking caster! If anything, they were just supposed to give us a boost, not…” he trailed off, his widened jaw dropping as he pawed at the bloated bulk. Neither of them had ever wanted to be like the overly thick meatheads hefting weights at grimy lifter garages, the very kinds of gyms they likewise wanted their business to avoid, but that’s exactly what they’d become. “Oh…oh fuck, dude. What…do we do now?”

Brody shook his head. “I don’t know. I feel so weird,” he said, his cock slipping free as it steadily twitched to life. His massive hands shook as he groped his unrelenting new muscle, slowly realizing that the inflated bodies were only one aspect of their altered lives. “Gage…bro…I don’t think our looks are all that changed.”

“I know,” the pale giant said, his own cock aching and exposed. Fully hard, the imposing organs now topped out close to eleven inches, adding to the erotic caricature their once-proportional frames had become. He reached out and gasped when he finally touched Brody’s granite body, his hands drifting along the other man’s mountainous pecs. “I kinda hoped it was all an illusion…that I’d touch you and you’d still feel the same.”

“That…that definitely doesn’t feel the same,” Brody grunted when Gage’s hands made their way to his enlarged nipples. He stepped closer, batting their massive members together. “But how…why… did the tattoos do all this,” he asked, his hands landing on his friend’s thickened muscle gut.

“Fuck if I know,” Gage shrugged, his priorities rapidly reorienting. He was still panicked and confused, but the burly blonde’s buff body, and the reaction it sparked, had become his focus. “I wasn’t really paying attention because I didn’t think it would matter. The symbols were supposed to represent muscle and growth and just, like, general dude shit, right? I, uh, think some wires might’ve gotten crossed.”

Brody’s chuckle turned into a gasp when Gage’s hand wrapped around his cock. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he watched his friend slowly start pumping. “We…we should probably be figuring this out, right?” Even as he asked, his own hands slipped around to grip Gage’s meaty globes, pulling his friend close.

“We will,” the dark-haired man said, shivering at the warmth of Brody’s breath on his face. “We just…need to do this first,” he said, his whole body turning crimson as he leaned in to kiss another man for the first time.

The taste of each other’s tongues was only one of many new experiences for the pair. They explored their new bodies together, flexing and groping and stroking, forming a massive mountain of muscle as they writhed against each other. They took turns dropping to their knees and lapping at the other’s oozing log, surprising themselves with just how much they liked the experience of giving head instead of only receiving it. What started as fearful and awkward became eager and joyous, a celebration of their magnified masculinity. When Gage finally dropped to all fours and presented himself for the taking, there was no embarrassment or dread over his penetration. There wasn’t even pain. Like all things physical, their bodies now appeared tailor made for fucking, their stamina having grown in time with the rest of them. And for Gage, that sense of purpose extended to his current role. Being hammered into by his friend didn’t make him suddenly weak or submissive or less than the other man, all of the things he’d always thought about guys who chose to take a dick. They were just having fun, doing what felt good and now natural for the two of them, and when Brody had finished they’d swap positions and he’d take a crack at the blonde’s equally eager hole.

And, if the ravenous hunger still coursing through them was any indication, they’d do it all over again.

**********

“Lookin’ good fellas! Keep it up,” Gage grunted, giving one of the men a friendly rub on his bare back. The young man was a broad, beefy ball of unsculpted bulk, his thick frame spilling out of the tiny poser he wore. His meaty body was a far cry from that of the lean, middle-aged furball to his left, but the pair looked equally content in their similar attire. The same went for the short, stocky hunk currently repping through a set of squats, giving everyone a clear view of both his ample rear and the squat, fat cock that had slipped from his poser’s skimpy pouch. “I see what you’re doing, Lucas…don’t let that form drop…come on…you got it,” he barked to the grunting man at the rack. There was a clang as the bar settled, followed by a commotion as the flush-faced young meathead was congratulated by the crowd. His cheeks were squeezed, his cock was tugged, and the hardening organ was joined when several of the other men began to follow suit.

Far from being shocking, the playful pawing and casual exposure was perfectly natural at Bulges, the boutique “social club” that existed as both gym and sex party. Men of all shapes and sizes were welcome and celebrated, with the main rule being that everyone had to abide by the “poser only” uniform. Otherwise, almost anything went, though the men were asked to keep active fucking to the locker lounges as much as possible so as to not distract their peers who wanted to workout. There was more wiggle room for on-the-floor romps when they weren’t crowded, but, considering that men now came from all over the world to experience Bulges, those times were few and far between.

Everything had been a whirlwind since their transformation on the eve of opening, with both of their lives changing in dramatic ways. After he and Brody had finally worn each other out that first night, they’d been mortified to discover that, like the visitors while in their gym, the slinky posers they constantly threatened to spill out of were essentially all either of them wore any more. They had some cropped muscle shirts thrown into the mix, but, as far as their lower halves went, perpetual exposure had become the norm. Fortunately, the rest of the world saw it as more or less acceptable, viewing the pair the way they would anyone else who wore slightly ill-fitting gym attire in public. So while the two could still go out and about without fear of being arrested, it did limit them to places where such casual dress was allowed. Fancy restaurants, theaters, and other high-end establishments were now out of the question, but that wasn’t much of an adjustment for the low-key pair.

The hardest part had been managing their own internal reactions to the new status quo, and biting down on the overwhelming embarrassment they felt walking around with their colossal cheeks on full display, and their hefty packages not far behind. It would have been hard enough even in their original bodies, but the fact that they both still felt somewhat freakishly sized only made things more difficult. Luckily, whenever they did have a wardrobe malfunction and one of their thick hoses would flop free, people acted the way they would have if someone’s jeans ripped or they popped a button. As long as they put themselves away, the world kept turning. That sometimes proved easier in theory as the constant arousal they’d felt since their transformation was always at a steady simmer, especially around other men, but they’d mostly learned how to navigate through their new normal.

“Derek! When’d you get here, bro,” Gage cheered, swallowing a sculpted, dark-skinned statue of a man in his meaty embrace. He and Brody had been friends with the grinning stud for years, their relationship evolving as the world learned about the altered hulks. While everyone saw their current state as normal, they didn’t forget how the pair had originally been, meaning that everyone who knew Gage and Brody had to wrap their heads around a coming out and what was essentially the reveal of cosmetic surgery. Given their newfound feelings and attraction towards each other, as well as their shared fate, the strapping studs had moved in together, turning their previous status as straight ladies men on its head. A big chunk of the pair’s peers drifted away, but they were quickly replaced by the new friends they’d met, and the ones who’d stuck around, like Derek, were now closer than ever.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Derek said, giving Gage’s heaping rear a swat. “Figured I’d knock out a set or two and then go see what’s what in the lounge. This place is jumpin’ today.” Though he primarily identified as straight, Derek, like many of the men at Bulges, liked the sense of freedom the space brought, as well as the easy access to blow jobs.

“Never a dull moment,” Gage shrugged, his cock twitching at the sensation of Derek’s hand on his rear. “If you want, come find me when you’re done lifting. Brody had some shit to take care of at home this morning, but he should be here by then.” He reached down and squeezed Derek’s stuffed pouch, slipping a finger inside. “He can keep an eye on things out here while I keep an eye on this guy in the back.”

“Deal,” Derek purred, reluctantly pulling away to begin his workout.

Gage watched the other man’s shifting cheeks as he sauntered away, feeling surprisingly content as he surveyed his tiny kingdom. Only a few months ago everything had felt like it was falling apart, like they’d been cursed, but now, strange as they were, things were on an upward trajectory. They’d pivoted their business plans, and, after only a short delay, they’d launched their new brand and watched word spread like wildfire. He and Brody had never been happier.

Though, to be fair, there were a few hiccups, like the visit from the BMR they’d received shortly after opening. The tattoo artist who’d started all this had apparently been on the agency's radar for smuggling bootleg enchanted ink, hence the pair’s current circumstances, and with the altered hulks’ testimony they’d finally been able to put the unlicensed alchemist away. The BMR couldn’t do anything to reverse what happened, and they’d hit the two with a hefty fine, but, considering how much money Bulges pulled in, it was barely a slap on the wrist.

“Monty! We’ve talked about this, bro. Widen your grip,” Gage barked, pulled out of his reverie by a heavyset man struggling with a loaded bar. He lumbered up behind and draped against the man’s back, shivering at the pleasant sensation of the softer frame pressing against him. “If you want my attention, you can just ask, dude. That’s why we’re here,” he purred, pressing his twitching bulge against the ginger’s chunky cheeks as he manually adjusted the other man’s grip. “Just like this. Slow and controlled,” he said, slipping into the role of personal trainer before slipping back out again. “Tell you what…nail this set and I’ll grab YOUR bar. Deal?”