Big Bad Brad, Part 2 (Conclusion)

A few weeks later, and Sebastian was astounded at Dom's progress as they stood near the front desk of the gym. "Dude, you are just totally blowing up with muscle. Look at these guns you have now – they've gotten so big! And your chest, back, and legs are also looking amazing! I cannot believe how fast you have taken to the training."

Dom smiled big. He felt better than he ever had in his entire life, and he felt like things were only going to get better. He still had the thick glasses, unkempt hair, and at least 40 more pounds of fat to lose, but the added muscle was helping him feel a lot more confident that he would eventually be able to earn a living as a firefighter.

"Thanks, Sebastian. I owe it all to you and your training. I never would have been able to make this kind of progress in such a short time on my own. Heck, I don't know if I would have ever been able to make this kind of progress on my own in several years’ time. I measured my arms this morning and they were at 18 inches, up from 14 when I started. And I've put 5 inches on my chest, too! I really feel incredible!"

"Well, you've been doing all the work," replied Sebastian, not realizing that Madame Elsa's curse had actually added most of the muscle. "And it's only going to get better for you. I'm going to ramp up your workouts to add more cardio so you can burn off this remaining fat, plus we're gonna add heavier weights so you can build even more muscle."

As they were talking, Brad joined them. Unfortunately, the training hadn't gone so well for him. He had gained about 40 pounds of additional fat, and he hadn't made any increases in strength – all his lifts had stayed about the same as when he started, even though he had been putting in a lot of effort at the gym.

Brad was wearing his usual workout gear of a tank top and athletic shorts, and just like every Monday for the past few weeks, it was clear he had bought some new ones in a larger size over the weekend to accommodate his growing bulk. He looked less and less like an ex-jock who had put on a few pounds and more like a lazy couch potato who hadn't every really exercised.

"Hi guys, I'm sorry that I'm late," he said, almost out of breath just from the walk from the changing room. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing yet, big guy," said Sebastian. "I was just telling Dom that I was going to up his training to help him burn off the rest of his flab, and also up his weights since he has gotten so much stronger."

Brad nodded. "I think I need to increase my intensity, too, Sebastian, because the flab has been piling on. I mean, I'm barely eating anything because I feel so full after working out form some reason, but still I'm getting fatter. And I don't lose this weight pronto, I'm going to be in big trouble at work."

Sebastian looked at Brad's massive quivering belly and wasn't sure what was going on. The guy definitely put in the work in the weight room, but he must have been eating nothing but donuts, cake, candy, and ice cream to have blown up so much in such a short time. "Sounds good, Brad. We'll get you going back in the right direction."

The men headed toward the free weights, ready to lift hard and heavy.

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One month later, Dom was in the changing room of the gym getting ready for his workout. He was by far the largest man who worked out there. He started off at 250 out-of-shape pounds, but in the last two months he had added 80 pounds of muscle to his frame and lost 50 pounds of fat, so he was 280 pounds of solid, sculpted beef. Not even his trainer, Sebastian, was that big and buff. Dom had surpassed him in strength a few days back.

Other things had changed for Dom as well. He had shaved his hair very short, so now he looked tougher with his manly haircut. His eyesight had also gotten better, as if the muscles in his eyes had miraculously gotten stronger as well, so he no longer needed his glasses. And he outgrew all of his old nerdy clothing, so he replaced his threads with some cool new clothes and workout gear.

As a result of these changes, people were constantly checking out his body, and the bolder ones were asking him to flex his biceps for them. Dom tried to dress somewhat conservatively by not wearing things that were too tight on his pumped-up physique, but as he grew bigger and bigger it was almost impossible to hide his sexy body.

Brad was also in the changing room, but his life wasn't going as well as Dom's. He continued to gain nothing but fat for another month and now topped the scales at 330 pounds. His gut seemed to enter a room a good 10 seconds before the rest of him, and on top of it sat his giant moobs that jiggled all the time. His backside had grown to gigantic proportions, spreading out wide in the ever-present sweatpants he had to wear because he was getting so big so fast. Brad struggled to get dressed for another workout, knowing that it was probably hopeless by this point that he would ever get back into shape. Any day now Derrick was going to visit the office again, and that meant trouble for him. Big trouble.

The fat man watched as Dom stripped off his tight polo shirt. He sighed as the big muscleman checked out his biceps, pecs, and abs, and he could see that Dom was getting turned on at the sight of his own body. "Fuck!" Brad thought. “I gotta know what his secret is.”

Brad finally finished putting on his giant tank top and shorts, and then waddled over to talk to Dom. The hot muscleman was still posing in the mirror and checking out his body, and although he probably used to be ashamed about getting an erection out in the open, he didn't even seem to notice now. His sweatpants were quite tented, showing the outline of his massive member, but all Dom seemed to be looking at was his amazing set of flexed biceps.

"Hey, Dom, how's it going?"

Dom stopped flexing and turned to Brad. "Really good, Brad. Really good. I'm getting close to 300 pounds of muscle, so I should have no problem passing the firefighter physical now. I'm so glad I picked Sebastian because his training routine is the best."

"Yeah, but seriously, dude, you're on some drugs to get that big, right? You can't tell me all of your growth is natural," said Brad, still arrogant and acting like the world was afraid of him, even though he no longer had his jock body full of muscles to back up his bravado.

"Nope, just working out and eating right," replied Dom, who went back to checking himself out in the mirror. He started bouncing his pecs up and down, and then grabbed each one to feel its heft and power.

"C'mon, Dom, I've been lifting for a lot of years, and there's just no way you turned into Hercules without some pharmacological assistance. You just gotta tell me what you're on so I can score some for myself.

"No drugs, dude, I swear."

Now Brad was starting to get angry, so he stepped closer to Dom and his hard cock. "Liar! There's just no way you got this big on your own, and I'm going to prove it."

Dom turned back to Brad and took a step forward. He was so close that his erect penis hit the fat guy's belly. "Listen up, Brad. I'm really tired of you. I'm tired of hearing you call me names behind my back. Are you surprised I know? Yeah, I heard you calling me 'Fem' and 'Dum' when I first started working out. And I'm tired of listening you whine about what a fat fuck you've become and how worthless Sebastian has been as a trainer. Look at my body. Look at these muscles. Trust me, his advice was priceless, not worthless. And now I'm tired of you thinking that it was drugs that helped me get big. So I want you to leave this gym and never come back, OK? Or else."

Brad was starting to get a little scared now. "Or else what?"

"Or else I'm going to email photos of your enormous ass to that boss you're so worried about finding out that you're a fatty. And then I'm going to march over to your house, whip off my clothes, and give your wife the fucking of a lifetime. I'm guessing it's been a while since she had a real powerhouse in the bedroom, and she's not going to be able to resist my body once she gets a gander of it. And since you've rubbing up against my cock for the last 30 seconds, you know how much she's gonna like it. And then...well, then you'll just have to wait and see what other plans I have for you."

Brad was stunned at somebody standing up to him like that. All his life he had been the aggressor, so he wasn't used to being told off by others. He quickly returned to his locker, redressed in his street clothes, and headed straight for his car.

He drove home from the gym and thought about how badly things were going for him. Not only was Brad afraid to lose his livelihood, but Dom had been right – his wife and he hadn't had sex very much since he started to put on weight. In fact, she seemed to stare out the window a lot at Dave, the buff young landscaper who took care of their lawn.

As he made his way through the downtown streets, Brad thought back to when he used to be a stud that turned girls' heads. He had always been active and in-shape, weighing a little more than 170 pounds during his freshman year in college, but he needed to grow bigger for baseball; 170 pounds of muscle may have made him a star on the team in high school, but it wasn’t going to cut it at the university level. So he started lifting heavy weights after class each day, and he quickly made progress. He bulked up to 190 pounds during his sophomore year, 210 as a junior, and he was a buff 230 pounds as a senior. Brad used to love strutting through campus in his tight t-shirts and even tighter jeans and wink at any chick who might be checking him out – he wasn't the biggest guy there, but he definitely had the best overall package when it came to his physique. Tough, tan, and taut were three words that fit Brad to a T.

After graduating from college, Brad added about 20 additional pounds of quality muscle and achieved a 250-pound godlike body. Everything was so well-proportioned, and Brad loved to show off his 50-inch chest, 21-inch arms, and 32-inch waist. Those muscles scored him a lot of pussy during his post-college years, including the girl who he ended up marrying a few years later. He and his wife fucked like bunnies because she simply could not get enough of his cocky attitude and bulging muscles, and Brad got so big he even considered competing in a bodybuilding tournament. But that dream disappeared when his wife got pregnant with their first child and he just got busier and busier with work, and soon his 32-inch waist plumped up and his 50-inch chest faded away. He had managed to stay around 250 pounds, but it was a lot more fat than it was muscle.

Now here he was, 80 pounds heavier as a 330-pound blob who could barely fit in his clothes. He continued to drive down the street, desperate for help, when he spotted Madame Elsa’s shop and decided to pull over. “Fuck, maybe she will help me now.”

As he did before, Brad hurried into Madame Elsa's shop. The extra flab may have slowed down his gait a little, but that had made him more impatient. As he took extra time to get everywhere and do everything, he wanted everyone else to speed up in order to compensate.

"Hey, lady, I'm back!" he bellowed as he waddled toward the counter where Elsa stood. "And I still need some weight loss drugs."

Madame Elsa smiled. Her curse had obviously worked, as the gentleman was much fatter than when he last visited, and he had obviously purchased a huge new suit to cover his bulk. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Fuck, here we go again with their weird questions," Brad thought. As he got to the counter, he rested his sagging gut on the glass, happy for the relief. "I've been putting on weight like crazy, even though I work out all the time," he said as calmly as possible. "I used to be a total jock back in high school and college. All muscle, no fat. And if I ever did overdo it in the eating department, a few laps around the track and I'd be back to zero percent fat. Now, no matter how much I work out, my muscles don't get bigger, and the fat still piles on."

"Please tell me the whole story," replied Madame Elsa. "From the beginning."

Brad could feel his temperature start to rise. "I just did. Big college stud. Big muscles. No fat. Now I'm the opposite and I want to get back to where I was."

"Yes, but how did you get fat? How did it make you feel to gain weight?"

"It made me feel shitty! That's why I'm here. I hate the way everyone looks at me, like I'm some sort of fatso," said Brad as he began to lose it. Sweat was now streaming down his forehead as a result of his vigorous walk from the car.

"And you want to look and feel like a stud again?" she asked as she began to reach for a remedy that would help. She realized Brad was doing his best.

Brad's voice suddenly got much louder. "I am *still* a stud, lady. I may have put on some weight, but I am still a strong athlete with big muscles. I am exactly the same person I was in college. Men are still jealous because I am stronger and better looking than them, and all women still want to sleep with me."

Madame Else paused as she reached for the potion that would have solved all of Brad's problems. Clearly, her first spell had not done enough to put reduce the size of this gentleman's out-of-control ego, so she softly spoke another curse on him in Romanian.

Brad leaned forward to hear. "What are you saying, you crazy broad? I can't hear you. Hello, are you going to help me or not?"

Madame Elsa smiled after she finished and left the counter without a word. She then went into the back room.

Brad waited for about 10 seconds, and then decided he was done trying to figure out the woman. "Fuck this!" he said, and then he turned to leave as the new curse started to take hold.

The big man drove home in his Cadillac Escalade, silently swearing at Madame Elsa. He called her every rude name he could think of, and a few more he made up, because she had again wasted his valuable time.

"How dare she not help me," he said aloud. "Doesn't she know who I am? I bet if she saw me before I gained weight, she would have done anything for me. I bet she would have taken one look at my muscles and sucked my cock immediately. Then she...um...what was I saying?"

Brad should his head, trying to remember his train of thought. "I mean, I wasn't as fat back when I was in college. I was pretty good looking then, and I was a member of the chess team... wait...baseball team, right?"

He tried to remember what position he played, but instead of baseball, his head was suddenly swimming with chess moves. "That's not right," he said. "I was a jock, like in high school. Back when I used to wear all of those tight clothes because my gut was so big...I mean, my muscles were so big."

Brad was now in a fog, desperately trying to hold on to his jock memories. They were slipping away from his grasp, however, being replaced with visions of the all-you-can-eat pizza buffet, marathon chess games, and lots of nights sitting alone and watching "Dr. Who."

"No, no, no, that's not how it was!" he said determinedly. "I was a stud who played base...all the girls love to watch me....the guys were so jealous of my..."

Brad could no longer finished any of his sentences, and he was getting very dizzy. He pulled his car over and closed his eyes, trying to sort it all out.

After about 30 seconds, he opened them again. He was sitting alone in his beat-up old Ford Taurus, with the seat all the way back to accommodate his massive gut. His torso was covered with a huge polo shirt that said "Video Palace" on it.

"Fuck," he whispered. "I gotta get to work." He looked at his watch and realized he was going to be late again, and he knew his boss was going to be angry. Brad wished he hadn't stopped at McDonald's on the way to his job, but he had been so hungry, and those four Big Macs really hit the spot.

The Taurus rumbled along the road, sounding like it was about to die, but on minimum wage Brad could not afford anything else. If he ever did come into some cash, he was really hoping to move out of his parent's house and get a place of his own. He was embarrassed to be 26 years old and still living with his mom and dad, but at least they didn't charge him rent and still paid for his food.

Brad finally arrived at the Video Palace and parked his car. He huffed and puffed to get out of the driver's seat, then shut the door and locked it. He tried to look down to see if he was presentable, but he couldn't see anything past his gut, which he was pretty sure was hanging out below the bottom of his uniform again. "I hope Mr. Hallock gets me some bigger shirts soon," he thought. "These XXXL ones just do not fit well anymore."

He started to walk into the store when he noticed an attractive couple jogging down the trail that ran next to the strip mall. The woman was blonde, wearing a tight read spandex outfit that hugged her big breasts and slim torso. The man was also blond, and he wore nothing but jogging shoes and sweat shorts on his ripped body. The woman was running just slightly behind the man and clearly watching his ass as she ran.

Brad thought it would be nice if someone would check him out like that. "I wish I hadn't given up on sports when I was a kid. If I had stayed in baseball and football, maybe I would be in good enough shape so chicks would stare at my ass, too."

He then turned and entered the video store to start his shift…and his new life.