Don't Poke the Bear, Part 1

This story received the most votes in my poll at the beginning of the month, so here is part 1 of the tale of Barry and Lance. 

Barry lugged the bag of groceries into the apartment, hoisted them onto the counter, and then leaned against the cabinet for support. He was breathing heavily after carrying all three bags up five flights of stairs, and sweat was pouring off his brow.

“Is dinner ready?” yelled his boyfriend, Lance, from the living room.

“I need to cook it first, sweetie, but it won’t take too long,” replied Barry. He inhaled another big breath and began to put the groceries away.

Lance lumbered in through the arched doorway, with his large frame blocking most of the light from the dining room lamp. He was 6’2 and carried 230 muscular pounds that had been well-sculpted from his years as an athlete back in high school and now as an up-and-coming 24-year-old bodybuilder. He was a wearing his favorite bright red string tank and a jockstrap, which left very little of his body to the imagination. Not that Barry had to imagine much, since he spent much of his evening hours pleasuring Lance however he wanted to be pleasured.

The big man put his hands on his hips and glared at Barry for a few seconds before speaking again. “Bar, dinner is supposed to be ready at 6 each night. You know that. We’ve been over it 100 times.”

Barry thought about asking Lance for help in putting away the food, since his boyfriend would be the one eating most of it, but he decided against poking the bear and continued to hustle around the kitchen. “Sorry, baby. The bus from work was late, and it took forever walking home from the grocery store. Maybe next time you could pick me up in our car?”

“Fuck, no, Barry. I had to go to the gym this afternoon – these muscles don’t just build themselves, you know?” said Lance while hitting a double bicep pose. “And how am I supposed to get all my shit over there and back without the car?”

“Um,” said Barry, as he looked at the massive 21-inch arms of his boyfriend. He wanted to say something like, “Well, you could have worked out in the morning instead of playing video games, and then you would have had plenty of time to pick me up.” Or he wanted to say, “Lance, the gym is 2 blocks away, and those big arms of yours should have no trouble carrying a t-shirt and a weight belt that far. Meanwhile, the grocery store is 3 miles away and my little weak arms had to drag all your groceries back all that way.” But again, why poke the bear?

Barry looked up at Lance’s handsome face – God, the cleft chin drove him crazy – and smiled. “Again, sorry, babe. I’ll go faster next time. But look, I got you something to tide you over while you wait for dinner. It’s a protein drink called…”

Before Barry could finish, Lance grabbed the bottle he had pulled out of the shopping bag. “Jock Juice? Is this some kind of joke?”

“I don’t think so. It was in the vitamin section of the store, and I thought you might like it. See…it says it’s guaranteed to ‘make you the muscleman you’ve always wanted to be.’”

Lance laughed hard and tossed the bottle back on the counter. “You little guys are always dreaming up these potions to get big muscles. It takes years of dedication, and sacrifice, and rigorous lifting in the gym to look like me. No matter how much you daydream about turning into a hunk, Barry, it’s never gonna happen. That’s just a fantasy – you’re gonna be small and weak forever, got it?”

Barry again wanted to say something. To let Lance know he didn’t buy the supplement for himself, but rather for Lance, so that he could continue growing into the stud he wanted to be. Barry hadn’t even been thinking about himself when he made the purchase, but again, he decided it was better to not poke the bear. “I really do apologize, Lance.”

“Fuck, what a disappointment you are, Barry. Now, hurry up with dinner. Make mine first and worry about yours later. I’ll be in the living room playing GTA and will expect it not later than 15 minutes. And tonight, you’re gonna need to give me two blowjobs to make up for this tardiness.”

Lance retreated to the living room, and Barry, almost on the verge of crying, continued his work in the kitchen.

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Three hours later, Lance was sound asleep after his double blowies and Barry was back in the kitchen cleaning up. But even at the rate he was going, he still had several more hours of work to finish before he could hit the sack. He was tired and thought about getting a glass of water to rehydrate when he saw the bottle of Jock Juice on the counter.

“Might as well not waste it,” he thought. Barry struggled to get the cap off, but eventually was able to open the bottle and swig down the contents. The juice was blueberry-flavored and quite refreshing, so he eventually sucked down every drop.

Instantly he felt a little buzz of energy and resumed his cleaning duties. The room was quiet, other than the faint sounds of Lance snoring from the bedroom…but then Barry heard a small tearing sound.

He heard it again, and then looked down at his shirt. It was one of his favorite button-ups – a size extra-small that perfectly fit his 5’2” and 120-pound body.

“Was that the seam tearing?” he asked himself as he inspected his left sleeve.

The tearing continued. A pinhole. Half the seam. The entire seam. Barry watched in shock as the sleeve slid off his arm and fell to the floor.

“What caused that? What the heck is going on?”

His thoughts were interrupted by the right sleeve also tearing and falling to the floor. Something was going on here that he just couldn't understand, but it didn't feel malevolent. It felt powerful, and it felt right.

Soon he realized what was happening – his arms were inflating, and his biceps and triceps were growing to double their previous size…and then triple...and blasting out of the the very small sleeves. They grew from wimpy 9-inch arms all the way up to 27-inch powerhouses. The tearing continued as Barry’s shirt buttons began to strain, pop, and fly across the room as his chest broadened. His shirt now hugging tightly to his form, and he couldn't mask his excitement. He let out a roar and then hit the same double bicep pose that Lance had done earlier, salivating at how much bigger his arms were than his boyfriend’s.

Barry grabbed the front of the garment remains with his big hands and ripped it from his body with his new-found strength. His chest heaved forward, growing into two mighty mounds of galaxy-sized, ultra-jacked muscle. It also tripled in size from a measly 24 inches up to a staggering 72. It was huge and sexy and full of sinew, and Barry could feel his nipples tingling. Just below, his stomach bulged outward…like a beach ball being blown up. It became full and hard, like a powerlifter’s gut, with thick love handles sprouting off to the sides.

The growth continued downward thankfully, as he was quickly becoming top-heavy, so Barry quickly kicked off his shoes and shucked his size 26-inch waist slacks in time to see the second half of his transformation take place. His hips widened, testing the limits of his skin's pliability, and his quads began to grow thicker and stronger all the way up to an insane 38 inches around. Barry’s glutes also expanded out, causing the gentle curve of his now mammoth back to be accentuated as if water would flow hypnotically through so beautiful a crevice. His calves bulged massively to match his titanic thighs, and his feet grew to size 16 and exploded his socks right off. His lower body now matched his upper – all power and

Barry was also shooting up in height, going from 5’2 to 6’8” in just a matter of minutes. The only clothes he still had on were his briefs, but they were straining to contain his growing body, so he yanked them off like they were made of paper. This action revealed that his cock was changing, too – it lengthened from 3 inches flaccid all the way to 12, stretching almost to his knees, and doubled in circumference to 4 inches.

“If this is it flaccid, how big will it be when erect?” Barry mused.

The head of his supercock bloomed like a rose, morphing into a huge knob that begged to be fondled, and of course pre-cum quickly began to spill out. Underneath the huge rod sat his lemon-sized balls that were already churning pints of jizz ready to be sprayed.

Barry grinned, knowing that the next time he fucked, it was going to be epic.

As he continued to grow larger all over, the new big man of the house noted that his body hair was also increasing – he used to only have a very small patch on his groin, but it was now sprouting everywhere – his arms, pits, chest, back, and legs. The hair was dark brown, long, thick, and bristley, covering his bare skin and making him feel incredibly masculine and insanely erotic.

Barry turned to his left and saw his reflection in the kitchen window – his physique was incredible, but his face had also completely transformed. He now had a thick mustache and beard to complement his hirsute body, a wild mane of wavy dark hair that replaced his thinning combover, and a ruggedly handsome face that sat atop a very study neck that looked like one you’d see on a heavyweight wrestler. If it were a tree, it would definitely be a sequoia.

When the tree analogy popped into his head, Barry took another gander at his full body – all 380 pounds of broad, thick, ready-to-fuck beef – and knew exactly what he had become. He had transformed into the porn star version of a lumberjack. A fantastically-beefy Paul Bunyan come to life.

“Fuck, yeah,” he said, and headed for the bedroom where Lance was still sleeping.