Meyer's Desires, Part 1

Meyer Burke was your typical science nerd – he was small, around 5'6", and couldn't weigh more than 98 pounds soaking wet. He had straight brown hair and brown eyes, and his usual attire was a sweater vest, white button down shirt, blue slacks, and black loafers.

Meyer had been excited to escape the tortures of high school and get into a prestigious university, and even though he spent most of his time in the science lab where his towering intellect was greatly admired, he still was picked on by the college jocks while in classes, or out on the quad, or even in the cafeteria. What made it worse for Meyer was that although he hated being bullied and tormented by the alpha males, he desperately wanted to be one as well. He would have given up every one of his superior brain cells for a chance to have bulging muscles.

But instead of sacrificing his smarts, he dedicated his time in the lab to muscle growth research, and after months and months of testing finally had a formula that he knew would allow him to siphon off the strength of someone else. All he would have to was drink the formula, and then the first person he touched for three minutes continuously would transfer muscle to him. If he broke contact in that three minutes, the transfer would not work.

The science nerd thought about who he would take the muscle from, but he knew he had to be careful – it would have to be from a stranger, someone who didn't know him and wouldn't be able to find him after the transformation and seek revenge.

So Meyer drove 90 miles away to another town, and he went to the mall to seek out big guys. He figured if he looked in the Big N Tall section of a clothing store, he might find some husky men he could use as victims, as long as those men were attracted to skinny, nerdy types. Plus, once he got bigger, it would be the perfect place for him to get a new wardrobe to fit his increased size.

Meyer parked his car and entered the mall through Kohl’s, figuring he could start at one of the bigger stores. He wandered into the general clothing area, but couldn't find the men's section in what appeared to be a very deserted area. Meyer was in the midst of his search when he came across a salesman approaching from a nearby fitting area.

The salesman was young, probably not more than a few years older than Meyer, with sandy hair and a rugged, brawny physique. His thickset torso had been poured into a light green polo shirt that accentuated every well-fed muscle, especially the twin boulders that were his pecs, which rose and fell and rose and fell as he walked. Meyer became mesmerized by the bouncing beef, but eventually pretended as though he was looking at the man's nametag, which was perched atop his massive chest. It read, "Wyatt / Assistant Manager."

As he returned to the station, the manager looked over at Meyer and politely asked, "May I help you, sir?"

Meyer looked up from his lingering glance at Wyatt's musclebound chest and replied, "Yeah, I'm looking for men's clothing. And sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at your…um…body.”

Wyatt winked and then said, “No need to apologize, sir. It’s always nice to be appreciated for all the hard work I put in at the gym. And as far as men’s clothes go, I'd be glad to show you." Wyatt turned and headed toward the back of the store, down an aisle that Meyer had not previously seen. As they walked, Meyer looked down to see that Wyatt's lower half was also as tightly packed into his black slacks as his upper half was packed into the polo shirt.

"Here we are," said Wyatt, pointing out the men's clothing section with his entire hand. "Please let me know if you need any further assistance. I’m about to go on break, but I’ll be just behind the counter in the employee break room if you need….anything.”

“Oh, I don’t want to disturb you on break.”

Wyatt winked again. “You wouldn’t be disturbing me, I promise. I’m the only one on duty in this department, so I’m available for whatever you need.”

"Thank you," said Meyer. He watched as Wyatt walked over to a nearby register station and disappeared behind it.

“That’s perfect,” thought Meyer. He waited a few minutes to see if anyone else would come in, but the store remained deserted, so he drank the formula down, very much hoping that the studly salesman was really interested in him and not just trying to up his commission.

Meyer headed toward the register station and walked into the employee break room, where Wyatt was sitting in a big chair reading a bodybuilding magazine. “Hey buddy, you need me for something? You find anything you want to slip into?”

The science nerd did his best to flirt. "Yeah, I was just hoping to check out your big ol' muscles again. You look really nice."

“Thanks,” said Wyatt. He set down the magazine, stood up, and puffed up his chest. “I have been working really hard lately at getting bigger. I’m so huge that most of my clothes don’t fit anymore.”

“I can see that,” said Meyer as he eyed Wyatt’s bulging pecs. “You look pretty big all over.”

“I appreciate you noticing. I’m really proud of this body. Too bad my boyfriend doesn’t like it. He doesn’t understand my desire to grow.” When he said the word ‘grow,’ Wyatt hit a quick double bicep pose as he sauntered forward, and his bulky arms responded by blowing up in size.

“He doesn’t?”

“No, he says I’ve gotten too big for him – can you believe that? He preferred it when I was smaller and weaker,” said Wyatt.

“Really?” asked Meyer incredulously.

“Yep. I mean, do I seem too big to you?” Wyatt was now only about a foot away, so close that Meyer could smell his musky cologne.

“Um…” Meyer hesitated, feeling a little flushed. “When did it get so hot in here? Did the air conditioning break?” he thought.

“Please, I’d like to know,” said the muscleman. “You won’t hurt my feelings.”

“I think, um..."

“Maybe this will help you answer,” said Wyatt as he smiled slyly, and then slipped his polo shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. His brawny torso was smooth and tanned, and he clearly had spent many hours growing his muscles. He wasn’t ripped like a bodybuilder, but rather looked like someone who enjoyed spending lots of time in the weight room but very little time on the jogging track.

Meyer was lost in his thought when Wyatt reached up and gently took Meyer’s wrists in his hands, and then Meyer suddenly remembered that he needed to not break contact for three minutes for the transfer to take place. “Here, feel my pecs. Do they seem too big?” He then placed Meyer’s open palms on his flexed chest, right over his pert nipples.

The heat Meyer felt grew tenfold when he made contact with Wyatt’s hulking body. The steel-hard muscles didn’t budge as he squeezed – rather it was Meyer’s hands that contoured to them. “No, they’re perfect. All I have to do is touch them to know how hard you’ve worked.”

Wyatt’s smile grew even bigger. “Thank you.” He relaxed his pose and let Meyer’s hands dig in to his chest muscles. Sweat was now beginning to pour off Meyer’s brow, but he couldn’t remove his hands from Wyatt’s body and wipe it away.

Wyatt continued to let Meyer play with pecs for about 15 seconds before he felt his arms needed some attention. “Check out my pythons – do they seem too big?” He flexed his biceps again, and up close they looked even larger than a minute ago.

Meyer moved his hands from Wyatt’s expansive chest to his mountainous arms – they were as hard as his pecs and radiated raw strength and power. “Wow,” he said with a slightly glazed look in his eyes as he fondled Wyatt’s biceps. “Very manly. I don’t know how any guy’s arms could be too big.”

“Exactly,” agreed Wyatt. “I mean, I’ve always thought that big arms were the ultimate symbol of masculinity.”

“I’m certainly glad to be hanging on to them,” replied Meyer slowly. “I’m getting a little dizzy.”

“Here, let me help you.” Wyatt moved right up against Meyer and carefully lowered his arms around his admirer, pressing his bare stomach into Meyer’s vest and supporting his weight. “I got you now, stud. And since we’re so close now, why don’t you check out my lats?”

Meyer obeyed, and slipped his arms around Wyatt. The wing-like muscles were broad and firm and filled up the back of his physique. It was like hugging a massive oak tree, but one was that was friendly and comforting. Meyer leaned into the muscular Assistant Manager, and then rested his head on Wyatt’s firm shoulder.

Meyer smiled and closed his eyes. “Your boyfriend must be crazy. How could he not love a chest, arms, and lats that are so big and powerful?”

Wyatt whispered into Meyer’s ear. “Thank you. But there’s more – I’ve saved the best for last.”

“What could be better than this?” thought Meyer.

Wyatt leaned down a little and folded his left arm under Meyer’s knees, sweeping him off his feet. Meyer clasped his hands together around Wyatt’s neck, surprised at how little effort it took the muscleman to pick him up. Wyatt gently lay Meyer down on an old couch in the corner of the break room and then climbed on top of him.

Wyatt propped his torso up with his elbows, with his chest nuzzling against Meyer’s chest, and his lips only a few inches above Meyer’s lips. He stroked back a few strands of Meyer's hair off his forehead with his left hand and asked, “How does the whole package feel? Too big?”

Meyer was pinned underneath Wyatt, but he wasn’t scared at all, knowing that any second now the formula would kick in. But he was having second thoughts about stealing the muscle from such a nice person. “Maybe I should have looked harder for an asshole who used his muscle to bully people...maybe I should break contact before Wyatt loses everything he worked so hard for?”