My Appointment

"I'm here for my appointment," I said to the man seated behind the desk, whose nameplate read Justin Hall. “The name is Mike Burnett.”

Justin looked up, smiled, and said, "Of course, sir.” He pressed a button on his intercom and said, "Dr. Kirkland, your 3:00 is here."

A warm, comforting voice replied, "Thank you, Justin. Please send him in."

Justin pointed toward the door behind him with his whole hand, and I walked into the counselor’s office. Across the room, Dr. Kirkland was seated behind his desk. He was a handsome man, about forty, with salt-and-pepper hair and glasses…not quite George Clooney, but close. He came around his desk to greet me with a smile and a handshake.

"Hello, Mike," he said. "Why don't you have a seat on the couch?"

I went over and plopped down on the nearby couch, and Dr. Kirkland sat in a chair by his desk with a note pad over his crossed legs and a pen in hand. "Now, what seems to be troubling you?"

“Well, um…I have sort of been obsessed lately with the idea of muscle growth. Like it’s all I can think about.”

Dr. Kirkland nodded. “Go on.”

“I want to be with guys who have grown enormous…with massive muscles. Like real giant muscle gods. I can’t stop thinking about. I’ve been on a few dates recently…but, well, they didn't go well," I said, and then trailed off.

“It’s OK, Mike,” said Dr. Kirkland reassuringly. “Please share whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

I continued. “Well, I couldn’t really get aroused on the dates with these guys – and they were all great, by the way – but I wasn’t feeling it with them. They were just so ordinary, and I wanted the whole fantasy. And now I’m worried I’ll miss out on Mr. Right because I’m waiting for someone who will match my daydreams instead.”

Dr. Kirkland thought for a few moments, and then said, "I see. I think I can help you if I can see your reaction to these fantasies…if you agree, could we try a little experiment? I promise it will be safe."

"Okay," I replied.

Dr. Kirkland reached over to the intercom on the corner of the desk, pressed a button, and said, "Justin, will you please come in here?"

"Will do, Dr. Kirkland," replied the clerk. A moment later, the door opened, and Justin walked in.

"Why don't you stand right there, facing Mr. Burnett?" directed Dr. Kirkland, indicating a spot about in the center of the room about five feet in front of me. Justin went to where he was instructed and turned toward me.

"Now, Mike, would you please describe Justin's physical appearance?"

I looked from Justin to Dr. Kirkland uncertainly, but he gave me an encouraging nod. So, looking back at Justin, I said, “He looks like an average guy.”

“And?” asked Dr. Kirkland.

I continued. "He’s in his early 20s, I guess. About the same age as me."

Dr. Kirkland wrote something in his notebook.

"Average height…maybe around 5’10”? Thin. Straight brown hair…recently cut and styled, maybe."

Dr. Kirkland was still taking notes. "How about his clothing?"

I looked back at Justin, who gave me a little smile. "He’s wearing a blue polo shirt…I can’t make out the brand from here, but it looks like something expensive. He’s also got a fitness tracker watch, but no other jewelry that I see. And, um, khaki chinos and brown shoes."

"That's fine," said Dr. Kirkland, putting down his pen and pad. He got up and walked to the corner of the room, where a tall mirror on a wheeled stand stood.

"Let me add that you were right on when it came to Justin’s height…he’s 5’10”. He weighs 180 pounds, has a 13-inch bicep, 38-inch chest, and a 30-inch waist," he continued, while pulling the mirror to the center of the room. Dr. Kirkland positioned it so that I could see Justin from behind, then returned to his seat. "Now, Justin, why don't you go ahead and clasp your hands in front of you, about waist height."

Justin did as he was requested.

"Good. Now roll your shoulders forward a bit. There we go. Now go ahead and squeeze your hands together hard,” said Dr. Kirkland. He began speaking to Justin quietly in his ear…I couldn’t make out the words even though I was only a short distance away, but I heard something that sounded like “conform” and another word that might have been “grow.”

I was puzzled by the whole procedure so far. “Was he putting Justin under hypnosis?” I wondered.

Dr. Kirkland continued speaking to Justin for a few more seconds, and then returned to his seat.

I looked over to the doctor to ask a question, but before I could say anything, he added, "Please keep your eyes on Justin, Mike. I need to observe your reactions."

I turned back at Justin, who was looking at me. I saw his hands tense as he began pressing them against each other. A few seconds passed. Then I noticed that his shirt seemed to be getting tighter. He was swelling up inside his clothing.

As I watched, his shoulders broadened. The curves of his trapezius muscles began to arc up between his neck and shoulders. His pecs began to lift and bulge out in his polo. His arms thickened inside the sleeves. In the mirror I could see his whole back widening. I looked down and saw the cuffs of his pants creeping up, and realized that he was getting taller, too. With a snap, the seam on the back of his left shoe tore from the pressure of his growing foot, and the right shoe immediately followed suit.

Justin said nothing, but he then stepped out of the broken shoes.

My gaze drifted back upwards. Justin’s pant cuffs were now several inches higher, revealing significantly larger calves, and his quads stretched the pleats on his chinos. I continued moving my head upward to see new curves of biceps, triceps, and deltoids dancing inside his incredibly snug sleeves.

Dr. Kirkland's voice broke through my reverie. "As you can see, Mike, Justin’s clothing is becoming quite tight. It's near the breaking point. Note the effect on the back of his shirt from the continued growth of the deltoid, trapezoid, and latissimus dorsai muscles."

In the mirror, I could see the back of Justin’s shirt straining. Threads began to give way, and the fabric slowly opened down the middle, exposing the taut skin underneath. The rips lengthened, allowed a larger and larger opening, until finally they reached from his waist to his neckline. The shirt-collar snapped apart, joining the opening down the back with the neck hole, which now stretched wide across his thickening neck column.

"The combination of increased length and increased circumference of Justin’s arms also has a unique effect,” said Dr. Kirkland as he watched my reaction and took copious notes.

The polo shirt sleeves, stretched tightly from shoulders to elbows, had already begun to come loose at the shoulder seams, revealing smooth, round deltoids that were swelling past cantaloupe-size. The back, already split all the way down the middle, fell away to reveal an insanely wide, thick musculature.

As the sleeves pulled further away, the seams running from neck to shoulder split, freeing the top part of the front of his shirt to fold down, and I gasped at the sight of Justin’s bare torso. His mighty pecs were broad, meaty squares, just grazing the biceps which framed them, and his abdomen was flat and solid-looking.

Finally, the sleeves couldn’t take it anymore and split open as well. As the fabric fell to the floor, Justin’s upper arms materialized as huge deltoids curving into gigantic biceps and triceps.

Dr. Kirkland spoke again. "Justin's body fat is still about at fifteen percent, Mike. Justin, see if you can attain that 'anatomy chart' look."

Justin’s muscles had been smooth in appearance up until that point. They continued to inflate, but now his skin seemed to stop accommodating the growth. Striations crept across his pectorals, and definition appeared in his external obliques and serratus anteriors. The groove between his pecs extended down to his waist as his abdominals bulged under his skin. His deltoids became like small pumpkins, both in size and appearance, with deep vertical cuts running down them. Even though his triceps were extended, I could make out striations on the outsides of his arms.

Dr. Kirkland said, "Did you notice what happened to his legs, Mike?"

I looked down. While watching Justin’s shirt blast apart, I had missed that his pants had done the same thing, and he the only non-shredded clothing he was left wearing were the tightest pair of boxer-briefs I’d ever seen and his socks. Justin's quadriceps hung impossibly far out over his knees, and his calves were obscenely large. His legs were also much longer than before, bringing him to a height of at least 6’6 or 6’7”.

I tried to take it all in. Justin’s trapezius muscles alone formed an arc as wide as a normal man's shoulders, and his deltoids flared out inches wider. His pectorals were as thick as a toaster. His abdominals were so pumped they actually pressed against each other, forming a grid of grooves between his chest and his waist.

Dr. Kirkland spoke again. “Justin is now 6’8” tall and weighs 360…exactly twice what he weighed before. He has 27-inch biceps, a 68-inch chest, and 40-inch legs. So Mike, I’m going to ask you the same question we started with…what do you think of Justin's physical appearance now?"

I licked my lips and considered my response as Justin had turned into a great, big, hulking, bulging, behemoth of muscular manhood, clad in tatters hanging from elbows and waist because no clothing could possibly fit him.

“He is the Incredible Hulk come to life. He was the most powerful human I have ever seen. And is also the most erotic thing I have ever imagined. I want to him to fuck me so badly. I want to be with him so badly. He’s just so…perfect.”

"Ok, great. Thank you, Mike," said Dr. Kirkland. "Now, our time is just about up. I'll see you again next week?"

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Justin, not really paying attention to his words. Then I realized what he said.

"Huh?" I asked. “Wait…aren’t you going to tell me what you noticed about me? Aren’t you going to help me overcome this obsession?”

"Of course. Trust me, I saw everything. I just need some time to consider what happened during the process, so I’ll report back to you on our next session, Mike. Justin, would you please show Mr. Barnett the way out?"

Justin relaxed his pose and walked over, and I stared up at the towering muscle god standing in front of me. Then he reached down and scooped me up, with his right arm under my knees and the left across my back. I felt his bulging biceps pressing into my thigh and my back, his pecs pressed against my side.

Carrying me out to the waiting room, Justin smiled. "Right this way, Mr. Barnett. Oh, you must be uncomfortable," he said, eyeing the bulge in my crotch – the bulge he caused by growing from an ordinary man into a powerhouse. "Let me see if I can help you with that."

He shifted my legs up so that he could curl his right arm around them to reach my fly. He unzipped it, reached in, and with his long, strong fingers, tugged my erection out. The feeling of his fingers on it was electric…I almost passed out from the charge.

Justin then set me down to grasp me by the waist and lifted me high enough that I was looking down at the top of his head and his massive shoulders. He wrapped his lips around my erect cock, and I gasped at the soft, warm, wetness encircling me. To brace myself, I put my hands on his wide upper arms. My fingers splayed across rock-hard biceps and triceps of Herculean proportions. He bobbed his head up and down, licking and sucking on my cock. Within seconds, I could feel the semen building up. I desperately pulled at his arms, trying to force myself deeper into his mouth, my fingers trying to find purchase in the dips and swells of Justin's bulging muscles.

He continued to pull at my cock, tormenting me with ecstasy. The sensation built and built, going on for three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds, twenty seconds…his mighty arms holding me effortlessly three feet off the ground in front of the hugest, strongest, most masculine body on the planet. Finally, the semen exploded out of me, spasm after spasm, with his tongue relentlessly stroking the underside of my penis.

Eventually my orgasm ended. Justin put me down gently and wiped my flaccid member dry with the tattered remains of his shirt, tucked it back into my pants, and zipped up my fly. He opened the door for me and said, "See you next week, Mr. Barnett!"

And I dazedly walked out of the office.