I Have to Be Strong, Part 5

Garrett knew he didn’t have much time – Brad's powers would be permanently cut off within a matter of minutes, so going for help was not an option. He would have to fight Jeremiah all alone, and he would have to do it now.

"I have to be strong. I can’t be weak right now. Dang it – If only I was a little bit…”

His thought was interrupted when he suddenly came up with an idea.

He saw Jeremiah’s gun still sitting on the counter where he had left it. Jeremiah hadn’t realized he would turn gay when using the device, and didn’t count on being severely distracted by the good looks and great physiques of the other two guys in the room – and that distraction was causing a little sloppiness in the execution of his plan.

“If only I was a little bit bigger, I could overpower Jeremiah and destroy the Lanzinium. But what was it that Jeremiah said – ‘I wasn’t quite able to figure out how to take your powers for myself – not yet, at least’ – so I’m guessing the gun won’t work on Brad. But maybe it will work on Jeremiah, and I can take back some of my muscle from him.”

Garrett quietly picked up the gun off the counter and waited for the right moment so he would be sure not to miss. Fortunately, he caught a lucky break – Jeremiah had been walking around taunting Brad, but then kneeled down and started giving him a massage.

“It’s no use, big guy," said Jeremiah. "These muscles just won’t work the way you want them to anymore – they’re going to keep getting weaker and deflating in size, and no amount of effort on your part can change that. And it’s too bad, too – they definitely turn me on…”

Garrett seized the opportunity by aiming the gun at the back of Jeremiah’s head and squeezed the trigger. A small silent beam of hit lasered across the room exactly where he had intended, and Jeremiah stopped speaking and stopping moving for a few seconds. Then, as quickly as it had started, the beam disappeared and Jeremiah started up again as if nothing had happened.

“How are you doing, Super-Hunk? I bet you must be so weak by now, huh? Just like a regular boy. I bet you didn’t think you would ever be so pathetic, right?”

Garrett ducked back down behind the counter and then looked down at chest and waited for the change. “Come on, muscles, grow!” he thought. He flexed his pecs upward, hoping to see some increase in size, but didn’t notice any difference. “Not even a fraction of a millimeter.”

He set the gun on the floor and flexed his right arm, reaching over with his left hand to caress his big bicep. It felt like it was the same size as it had when he checked it before, so he pumped it up and down a few times to see if that made any difference.

But none was apparent – his muscles were beefy and hard, but were simply not growing like Jeremiah’s had the first time the gun had been used. “Why didn’t it work? Why didn’t I get any bigger? Jeremiah said it would take the best and make it better…”

Garrett interrupted his own thought and considered the exact words Jeremiah had used.

“My little invention over here was programmed to take the best quality of someone, enhance it, and let those enhancements flow back to the operator.”

Garrett’s mind was becoming clearer. “So if all that new muscle wasn’t Jeremiah’s best quality, what could it be? His brains?”

He thought about his Chemistry class and tried to remember what he had learned. A minute ago he wouldn’t have been able to remember anything other than a few bits and pieces of the Periodic Table, but suddenly a rush of facts flew into his brain – he could recall everything he had ever heard about protons and electrons, about the Avogadro constant, about chemical bonding, and about thermodynamics.

As he reflected, more information from his other classes became easier to recollect – every iota he had been taught in years of Math, History, English, and his other Science classes were swimming in his head. He focused on the mathematical constant Pi and tried to recite its exact value.

“3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399…Wow, that’s so cool.”

And he wasn’t just becoming better at remembering what he had learned, but Garrett’s brain was becoming better at processing all that knowledge – he recognized that in addition to a newly photographic memory, his capacity for abstract thought, reasoning, and problem solving had increased as well.

“Dang,” he thought. “I wish I had waited until now to take my finals.”

Garrett took a few more seconds to absorb his new intelligence, but turned his attention back to the crisis at hand. “So how do I go about stopping Jeremiah? What’s the most logical approach? I could try to distract him, but even that would only buy a little time, and if my calculations are correct, Brad has less than two minutes before his powers are completely gone. No, I simply need to get bigger and stronger so I can take control of the situation. I need to get some muscle right here and right now.”

He looked down at the gun at the floor and quickly examined its workings. “Jeremiah said that he hadn’t figured out how to make it work on Super-Hunk, but since this gun made me his intellectual superior, perhaps I can figure it out?”

He began adjusting the settings on the top of the device, then removed the casing to check the wiring – and immediately discovered the problem.

“The configuration he selected didn’t allow the gun to operate at maximum power, so it’s no wonder it wouldn’t have worked on an someone like Super-Hunk. But with a few simple changes,” he thought as he undid several components and put them back in a different arrangement, “it’s should work now, assuming that the gun recognizes his powers as his best quality, that that the Lanzinium is only blocking them and hasn't eradicated them, and that I don't absorb his weakness to it.”

It was a lot of 'ifs' to hang his hat on, but it was the only plan he had time to devise.

Garrett finished the adjustment and closed the gun casing back up. He stood up from behind the counter, waited until Jeremiah looked down toward Brad’s groin, and quietly fired the gun at the back of Brad’s head. As it had before, a beam of light sprang forward from the gun and hit its intended target.

Moments later, the beam subsided and he tucked the gun into the pockets of his shorts. Garrett again looked down at his chest and inwardly repeated his mantra. “Come on, muscles, grow!”

And like a switch being turned on, Garrett got what he needed and more.

He could feel his pecs growing first – changing from really muscular to into something more supremely muscular. They were inflating quickly, filling up with pounds of solid beef that it would have taken him years to accomplish in the weight room. In his head, Garrett’s estimate of how much he could bench press with his massive chest became unfathomable – from 300 pounds to 400, from 400 to 500, then 600, 700….and up and up.

As his chest moved upward and outward, he could feel his abs tighten and pull inward. Already strong from years of crunches and sit-ups, they turned into impenetrable bricks along his midsection. Garrett could sense them getting harder and harder, like concrete after it had been poured, and instinctively his hands began to rub his flat, rigid stomach.

“I bet I could do 1,000 sit-ups now, while holding 1,000 pounds,” he thought as he pictured himself performing such a feat of strength.

He focused his attention on his stomach for a few more moments until he realized that his other upper body muscles were expanding – his delts grew bigger and bigger until he thought that a a short shrug might slam them into his ears, his traps expanded into thick powerful cords of beef that fortified his neck and upper back, and his lats grew so big that his arms were pushed farther outward.

“Good gravy,” thought Garrett as he surveyed his newly acquired bulk. “I must weigh over 350 pounds!”

He could also feel his legs and ass growing bigger and stronger, though he couldn’t see them below his massive chest. But he could tell as he flexed his quads that their strength was increasing, and he could sense that his shorts were becoming ever tighter around the expansion that was occurring in his glutes.

Finally, his arms began to throb as his biceps and triceps swelled with muscle, growing thicker and bigger with each passing second. Garrett raised his arms upward, flexing as he did so, to watch the incredible show of power. He estimated the circumference of his upper arms must be somewhere around 26 to 27 inches at their largest point, and certainly he was easily going to be able to take on Jeremiah now.

“Even my hands seem bigger and more powerful,” he thought.

When the growth finally subsided, Garrett reached over with his left hand to caress his right bicep, just as he had done moments earlier – but this time was simply stunned by what he felt. Hardness beyond what he thought possible. Size and shape beyond comparison with any mere mortal. And strength beyond what anyone on the planet could have experienced before.

His bicep felt like the most powerful muscle in the world, and while rubbing it, he flashed back to the first time that someone had felt that same muscle.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It was about ten months after he had started training with his uncle – he was 19 and a sophomore in college, and unlike the previous year, Garrett was definitely not going to get cut this time. The coach had practically fainted when he saw Garrett’s new body on the first day of football tryouts, and he had made him parade around shirtless in front of the squad to show them what a great off-season conditioning program could accomplish.

The other players may have been surprised at Garrett’s new physique, but Molly Hartwell, the campus photographer who had been assigned to take the group photo that day for its online paper, was simply astonished. She remembered seeing Garrett the year before at football tryouts – he was gangly, awkward, and thin as a rail. But today she took one look at him, with his close-cropped blond hair, chiseled face, and athletic physique, and immediately decided to get some pictures for her ‘personal’ portfolio.

As soon as the coach let Garrett finish showing his strength to the team, she sauntered over to where he was standing.

“Garrett, you sure have grown. I seem to recall you were just a little twig at last year’s tryouts, but you somehow turned into a mighty oak since then,” she said while staring at his taut pecs and six-pack abs.

Garrett blushed at her comments, surprised that she would have noticed him, and looked down at the ground. “Hi, Molly,” he said softly.

Molly moved in a bit closer so that he would have to see her long brown hair, her soft brown eyes, and her smile. “So what’s your secret, Garrett? How did you get so b-i-g?”

“I’ve been working out with my uncle,” he said, looking back up at her face.

“He must be quite a trainer if he could pack all this beef on you in such a short time.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty big. And really smart, too.”

“I’ll bet he is. So how about letting me snap some photos of the new you for the newspaper?”

“I guess that would be OK. You want me to put my shirt back on?”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. Um, I mean, your shirt is probably all wrinkled by now.”

“OK. Where do you want me to stand?” he asked as he looked around the gym. “By the bleachers?”

Molly put her finger to her lips and pretended to think about her answer, even though she knew exactly where to go for some privacy. “Let’s go over into the workout room. The coach is still getting everyone registered, so we have plenty of time before tryouts begin.”

Garrett agreed and accompanied Molly to the weight room – he tossed his shirt on the floor and waited as she readied her camera. After making a few adjustments to the settings, she asked him to pose while holding a pair of 50 pound dumbbells, which he picked up and lifted over his head with ease. He stood as erect as possible, stuck his chest forward, and smiled. He could hear the clicking from the camera and she took photo after photo.

“Very nice, Garrett. Now maybe we could get one of you on the chin-up bar.”

“Sure thing.” He set down the weights, jumped up, and effortlessly pulled his head up over the bar. Again, he smiled, and again, the camera clicked away.

“OK, now let’s get a few of you flexing your arm.”

“Um, sure,” he said as he jumped down. Garrett picked up his right arm and flexed it, causing a baseball sized muscle pop out of nowhere. “How’s that?” he asked.

“Perfect!” Molly took several more pictures and moved in closer. “But I think it needs a little more perspective.”

“What do you mean?”

“It needs an added element to improve the composition,” she answered. And before Garrett knew what was happening, she reached up with her left hand and cupped it on top of the bicep.

“See what I mean. My little girly hand makes your big ball of muscle look even bigger and stronger.”

Garrett turned his head toward his arm and smiled. “You’re right. It does seem bigger.”

Molly took another series of pictures while rubbing his muscle, this time zooming in on Garrett’s arm and his smile. After 10 shots, she let go of her camera so it was hanging from the strap around her neck. But she didn’t take her left hand off of his bicep.

“It’s just so perfect, Garrett. Your arms are unbelievable.”

Garrett would have backed up, but the squat rack was right behind him and he couldn’t move. “Uh, Molly, thanks for the compliment, but this doesn’t feel right. Aren’t you dating Noah?”

“I was. We just broke up.”

Garrett was surprised at the news. “You did? But why?”

Molly giggled. “Well, for starters, Noah didn’t have an arm like this,” she cooed as she gently massaged Garrett’s bicep. “I can’t get over how perfect it is!”

“But he’s the biggest guy on the team, and his arms are way bigger than mine.”

“Noah may be bigger, but he’s mostly just fatter. His arm may look impressive under a shirt sleeve, but when he takes it off, there’s no definition. He’s just a big blob – not like you, Garrett.”

“But he’s really strong. I’ve seen him play football – he knocks guys over all the time.”

“Again, that’s just because he’s a big fat hog – once he gets going, he just runs people over. But he doesn’t have any real strength. In fact, he struggled to lift me up off the couch the other night,” confessed Molly.

“Really?”

“No lie. But I bet you could pick me up in your arms, right?” she asked. “I bet you could even carry me up a flight of stairs.”

“Why would I want to carry you up a flight of stairs?” asked Garrett.

Molly rolled her eyes, but tried not to let Garrett see her frustration. “Perhaps to show me how strong you are. Perhaps to take me somewhere to show me these muscles in action.”

“Well, you should watch us play football today. Then you could see everyone in action,” Garrett replied, lowering his arm and deflating his bicep.

“I was hoping for a one-on-one performance, if you know what I mean.”

“You want to play football with me?”

She tried to be more direct, leaned her head in close to Garrett, and moved her hand from his arm to his abs. She rubbed gently and whispered, “No, but I do want to go to first base with you. Or second.”

Garrett giggled. “Molly, you know there are no bases in football. That’s another sport entirely.”

Molly sighed loudly and then took her hand off of Garrett when it become clear he wasn’t catching her drift. Or flex any more for her. Or demonstrate how strong he was. Or even kiss her.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

She reached out and patted him on his well-formed chest. “Nope, not at all. You’re just a little too sweet for me. Thanks for the photos, and good luck with the team this year.” And with that, she turned and left the room.

Garrett stood in the same spot for a few moments, trying to figure out what had just happened, then shrugged and bent down to pick up his shirt. He was about to leave the room when Noah Reed lumbered in – all 6’4”, 300 pounds of him.

Like Garrett, he had buzz cut hair and blue eyes, but the similarities ended there – while Garrett’s body was firm, tight, and muscular, Noah was big, blocky, and round all over. His red t-shirt was stretched tight over his stout chest and fleshy gut, and combined with his height, size, red hair and freckled face, he looked a little like the Kool-Aid man.

“Hey, Axton,” said the bigger boy. “Were you just in here with Molly?”

“Yeah, she took some pictures of me for the paper.”

“With your shirt off?” asked Noah, looking down at Garrett’s pecs and abs, just as Molly had.

“Well, I hadn’t put it back on since the coach made me take it off.”

“Oh. So pictures, huh? Is that all you guys did?”

Garrett could see a hurt look in his eyes. “Yeah, of course. Is something wrong, Noah?”

“Molly broke up with me a few days ago. I wasn’t sure if she had moved on already.”

Garrett tried not to laugh. “Why would she want to ‘move on’ with me? I don’t have a car, or a job, or any money. I’d have to take her out on dates on my Schwinn.”

Noah continued to stare at Garrett’s physique. “Well, she said I was a weakling after I couldn’t physically pick her up, and she made it seem like she wanted to date someone stronger and with a better body. And when the coach had you do those 100 pushups in front of everyone, and Molly took you to the weight room immediately after, I thought she had found that someone. I mean, look at you, Axton – you’re tall, you’ve got blond hair, and big muscles. You look like Captain America’s younger brother, and I think that’s exactly what Molly’s on the prowl for.”

“Noah, I may be her type, but believe me, Molly is not my type. And I can’t believe she would call you a weakling – you’re like the biggest guy around.”

“Thanks, Axton. But she’s right – I have size, but no real power. I’m just a big ol’ hoss who is good at fallin’ on the other players on the football field. I can’t do a pushup and I can barely do 5 situps. When I flex my arms, nothing happens. But when you flex,” he said with a low whistle, “your bicep sure does grow.”

“I’m surprised anyone even noticed.” Garrett flexed his right arm and looked over it. “I feel pretty small when I’m working out with my uncle.”

Noah took his hand and cupped the top of the muscle, just as his ex-girlfriend had done minutes earlier. “Everyone noticed, Ax. You were so skinny last year, and all of a sudden you show up again this year with muscles all over your body. And dude, when the coach asked you to flex your biceps, trust me, everyone was completely jealous.”

“It’s not that bigger than some of the other guys, is it?”

Noah uncupped his hand and slid his finger lightly across the side of Garrett’s bicep. “It’s not just the size, Ax. Look at the split here. Most guys our age don’t have that type of development. And check out how shredded it is – it’s unreal, I’m telling you. Your arm muscles look like they are going to pop out of your skin!”

Garrett felt a little tingle from Noah’s attention to his bicep. “Well, I appreciate the compliment, Noah. I did work really hard to build up my body. But listen – if you’re interested in working out with me and my uncle sometime, I’m sure he could show you some pointers. He’s helped me add over 200 pounds to my bench press in just the past 10 months.”

Noah’s eyes grew wide. “Seriously? That would be awesome! I would love to play for a bigger college, or maybe even go pro.”

“Well, then you have to meet my uncle – he played for the University of Kansas a few years ago. He could probably help you a lot.”

“What’s his name?”

“Matthew Mueller.”

Noah’s eyes grew even wider and his voice grew louder. “Your uncle is The Mule? He…he’s like a legend. I remember watching him play and thinking his body was super awesome.”

Garrett smiled. “Well, when you meet him, don’t open with that line, OK. Maybe just start with hello.”

In an effort to regain his composure, Noah blew a quick couple of breaths. “Sorry. I got a little carried away, but dude, I would love to train with Matt Mueller. You think he would really help me?”

“I know he would. And you’d be helping me, too. I’m thinking about becoming a personal trainer someday, and I’d like to work with him to transform your physique. But you have to promise me one thing.”

“Name it. Anything,” replied Noah.

“When your arms and chest and legs fill up with muscle, you won’t use your new body to get back with Molly. I think you deserve someone better. Someone who likes you as much for what’s on the inside as for what’s on the outside.”

“I promise, Ax. I promise.”

They both heard the coach yelling and decided to quickly head back to the gymnasium.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the present, Garrett was still gazing at his swollen biceps. “It’s unbelievable – I can’t get over how perfect they are!”

He eventually broke his gaze when he thought he might be still be growing, only taller this time instead of wider, but then realized that the increase in altitude was due to the fact that his feet were hovering above the floor.

“I’m flying,” he thought. He swiftly used his super smart brain to check which other powers might have transferred – everything seemed to be present, from X-Ray vision to superbreath, but he wouldn’t have time to test them thoroughly until after he dealt with Jeremiah.

He then silently walked around the lab counter and approached Jeremiah from behind. Garrett didn’t detect any effects from the Lanzinium and surmised that his earlier hope had turned out to be true – that since he only took the best qualities from Super-Hunk, and not his weaknesses, he was immune to its destructive power.

By this time, Jeremiah had swung his leg over the Super-Hunk’s body and was sitting down on his abdomen. “Do I seem heavier as you get weaker? Do my arms look bigger as yours get smaller?” Jeremiah put his hands next to Super-Hunk’s head and leaned in really close, flexing his large biceps and he moved.

“How about my chest?” asked Jeremiah as he leaned in even closer, laying his torso on top of the fallen hero. “Does it seem firmer than yours? Do my pecs feel stronger?” He began to flex them up and down, rubbing his nipples across Super-Hunk’s costume but careful not to knock off the Lanzinium disk that was sucking away all his power.

“Or what about my dick? Does it feel bigger as yours shrivels away?” He slid his hips downward to match up his groin with Super-Hunk's and began to grind them around so that their cocks would rub together. “Am I more of a man than you, Super-Hunk?”

Super-Hunk didn’t respond, but Garrett finally did. “I’d stop right there if I were you.”