Bigger, Bigger, Part 1

Ben Hisagawa waited until it was late in the evening before heading downstairs to his apartment complex’s fitness room. This was his time…his private time…and he only liked to work out when he was alone. Part of the reason was because when by himself, he could focus more on his lifts and make better progress, and part of it was because he almost always ended daydreaming about growing huge muscles and would often get a very evident stiffy tenting in his shorts or sweatpants.

He really couldn’t help fantasizing, as he had been craving mass since he was back in high school. He didn’t just want to hook up with a beefy lover, however, but rather longed to transform himself into an ultra-dominant alpha musclestud. And even though Ben was currently only 5’10” and 160 pounds, he was doing everything he could to make himself the largest bodybuilder of Asian descent in the world, even bigger than Hwang Chul-soon. He never missed a workout, he ate all the right foods, and he took all the supplements he could afford using the meager salary he earned as an office receptionist.

That single-minded drive brought him down to the fitness center on this warm night. A light breeze wafted through the ground-level window, gently rustling back the off-white curtains. Before he started his regimen, Ben drank down a container of MassBuilder 2000 he had gotten from the discount shelf at Walmart about earlier that day. He wasn’t aware that the Midwest manufacturer had gone out of business after the Food & Drug Administration ordered a recall of this product due to irradiated soy meal, mainly because the story was mentioned only briefly since just a handful of those cartons had been made available.

He began his routine, clad in royal blue spandex shorts and a baggy white T-shirt. Ben struggled with the weights a bit at first, but by the time he finished, he felt so invigorated he decided to go for a quick jog. It was a bit muggy, but the breeze was refreshing. Ben felt strong and confident as he attacked the local streets with renewed energy.

“I should be beat, but I feel better than ever,” he thought.

Ben returned to his complex and was not even the slightest bit out of breath. He opened the door, nearly smashing it against the doorstop, but catching it before it could make a noise that would surely wake the entire building. He made his way back toward the fitness center to retrieve his towel and dry off. As he reached the free weight area, a strange feeling overcame him...it was like someone had lit a fire deep within his being. The warmth radiated through his body, to the tips of his fingers and toes. Ben made his way to the bench he was using and grabbed his towel, and then noticed the veins in his forearms straining through his skin.

“Weird,” he thought. “I’ve never had great vascularity.”

Suddenly his Reeboks felt very tight, and Ben basked in the energy that seemed to flow through his body. He glanced down and watched in amazement as his feet tore through his sneakers.

“Fuck!” he blurted out, more concerned at first with the cost of replacing the shoes than how he managed to grow out of them.

He had no time to think any further, however, for his arms were contorting. Skin rippled, bones thickened, and muscles expanded. His T-shirt, once oversized and baggy, now clung to his upper body. Lats flared outward, straining the cotton seams. Back muscles thickened, his pectorals became denser, thrusting his chest forward. His nipples pushed against the fabric of the T-shirt, which was losing its battle against Ben’s ever-increasing mass. The seams along the side buckled, slabs of muscle pushing through. His upper arms expanded, like someone was pumping them full of air. Triceps became more defined, biceps rounded into softball-sized orbs that formed inhuman shapes under what was left of the cotton T-shirt. His lower body was also not immune to the change…the spandex shorts stretched beyond their designs as Ben’s quads bulged.

“Bigger, bigger,” he said aloud, while soaking in every aspect of the metamorphosis.

Ben's coaxing seemed to work, as his glutes grew larger, rigid, and rounded, placing even more stress against his biker pants. Ben staggered over to the full-length mirror in the fitness center and was taken aback by the vision that stared back at him.

“I’m so … huge,” he whispered. Like a prospective buyer taking a car for a test drive, Ben had to test the limits of his new body. He carefully lifted the bottom of the tattered T-shirt, exposing a rock-hard, segmented washboard stomach. He moved his hand over his abdomen, feeling its contours. Suddenly, he launched into a double-biceps pose, ripping the T-shirt from the left side of his body and exposing well-rounded shoulders. His biceps kept rising, like bread in an oven, so Ben rushed over to grab his tape measure. He flexed his left arm while wrapping the tape measure around it with his right hand, and he was amazed as he kept giving more and more of the tape until it reached 24 inches.

“Bigger than Hwang,” he thought. “So much bigger.”

He was enthralled with his incredible pythons, marveling as he repeatedly made them rise to form incredible peaks. The Asian-American stud removed what little was left of his T-shirt, revealing a remarkably thick upper body and an abdomen that looked like it was chiseled out of raw steel. His already formidable chest now defied gravity, with massive pecs he couldn’t stop caressing.

The spandex shorts somehow still clung to Ben, although stretched to their limits. One flex of his huge quads took care of that, actually popping the shorts off his waist and flying across the room. The metamorphosis affected his lower body the same way it had the upper half, as his thigh muscles were barrel-like, appearing even larger because they thinned at the knees. The legs flared again at the calves, which rivaled his biceps in sheer size. Easily more than 20 inches around, Ben delighted in watching them bulge obscenely simply by standing on his toes.

And, of course, his cock was already surging with blood…rock hard and ready to cum. When he walked over to the scale and saw that his weight had climbed to 320 pounds, that was all needed – his manhood acted as if an invisible hand had been stroking it for the past few minutes and shot a large stream of jizz across the floor.

Once he recovered from the ecstasy of morphing into the man he'd always wanted to be, Ben's gaze caught the empty container of MassBuilder 2000 on the chair next to his bench. He picked it up, held it high, and thought, "This shit really works."

After that, another thought occurred to him…there had been two containers of the formula on the discount shelf at Walmart that morning, and he had only purchased one of them. The other one might still be there.

Ben dashed up the steps of the fitness center, which creaked under his now formidable weight, and raced to his apartment to find something he could wear to Walmart.