The Chase, Part 2

[giantr]

Everyone was desperate at the bar in the next few days. They wouldn't breathe until Ian got there, for they knew if Trent returned and Ian wasn't there to get the wind knocked out of him, it would be them. Ian showed up, as normal, and even returned a few days later with a brand new table for the bar, which he did have to ask help to carry, as he was right, he didn't have much muscle at all. People admired his courage, and he became such a hero, that he didn't have to pay for any drinks he didn't want to. Although, he did pay for his own, after taking one free one to start with.
Ian, on his own time, Googled Trent. Yes, Trent was a world-class bodybuilder with a perfect body - no tattoos, clean shaven, well-built. Now if he wasn't a jerk, he might be a good looking guy. Ian also found out Trent's gym was going under financially. He didn't know how he could use this information to his advantage, but knowledge had to compensate for his severe lack of muscle.

Trent, meanwhile, had vented all of his frustration in a junkyard that night, tearing apart, busting, throwing, crushing, and destroying anything and everything. He was so frustrated, that he even tried to lift and throw a car frame, but even with adrenaline, all he could do was lift the front end. Out of it came all kinds of foul-smelling fluids that dripped onto his bare body. Not knowing much about cars, he figured this was leftover whatever-fluid. He hardly noticed that suddenly the car he was holding up became lighter.
He dropped it with a crash, and picked up his jeans he'd torn off, and power-walked his way back home, defeated for the first time he could remember.

That night, he experienced an odd dream, involving Ian being hundreds of feet tall, towering over him, and just smiling down, with no malice. Suddenly, however, his body rippled, and he felt himself growing. He was now eye-level with Ian's ankles, then knees, then stomach, neck, eyes, until he kept on getting bigger, his muscles expanding, and his already huge dick becoming longer and thicker. Every muscle was just as proportionate as they had been, but now they were getting very giant, and more by the second. Ian's eyes looked up, now looking at Trent's eight-pack, then his tree-trunk quads, and down to his toned calves, until he, too, became just an ant to the giant that was Trent, and Trent suddenly realized that he was the most MASSIVE man to have ever lived, which gave him all the more strength and size. He looked down, located Ian, and smiled. "SMILE NOW, RUNT."

He suddenly awoke, with sweat all over his body, and he realized cum had been pouring out due to his being aroused. He felt like a thick towel just covered his lower part of his body, but that couldn't have been right - he knew he didn't pass out in the bathroom again, he was in his bedroom. He opened his eyes, and shock ran through his system, as he realized his dream was not entirely wrong - during the course of the night, he had gotten bigger, everywhere, to the point that his briefs had shredded, and his blanket was now towel sized. He sprang up from his bed, and nearly bumped his head on the low ceiling of his room, now understanding that he was nine feet tall, and so impossibly big with muscles, he now knew he was not only the tallest man in the world, but also probably the heaviest, and strongest.

He bent down on one knee to look in a mirror. He looked exactly the same as yesterday, only nine feet tall. It took a while to examine himself, as not even one area of muscle could fit within the confines of the mirror, but he checked out his beach ball biceps, mountainous delts, legs thicker than any telephone pole each, and, his favorite part of his body, his chest, which might have doubled as flotation devices if they had been full of anything but pure muscle.

He looked over at his doorway, which now looked awfully small. He stood up to full height, and his chin hit the top of the doorway. He bent his knees forward, to make himself able to see out, but his arms, pressed outward by a great wall of muscle that was his back, prevented him from doing anything but barely pushing his pecs out the door, and cracking the walls in trying to leave. He brought his pecs back in, and moved his feet diagonally so he could go out sideways. Again, he found a problem: his pecs prevented him from going out, unless he wanted to crack through the wall, which he was already surely doing.

He came back in, cleared some space on the floor, and laid flat. He army-crawled a bit to the doorway, and stuck an arm out, which now reached the other wall of the hallway, but he bent it to fit, and pushed himself out a little more. He exhaled all the breath he could, knowing his chest would only be larger if there was air there too, and stretched slowly outside the door. After a bit of wiggling, he got out without completely demolishing the walls, and he twisted, and pulled one leg out at a time, until he was now sitting with his knees almost pressed to his nose, back against the wall, and toes attempting not to apply pressure to the already cracking walls. He was now a ball of muscular stud, stuck sideways in an otherwise narrow hallway.

It took more crawling and twisting, but he snaked his way out of his hallway into his bigger living room within the next few minutes. He heaved breaths, and planted his huge foot down beside his too-small couch, and stood to full height, the ceiling only a couple of feet above him. He stretched his arms, and he accidentally cracked more walls, as he applied pressure to get more of a stretch, as there was now not much room for him. He took a seat on the couch, which now could only house two bubble butt cheeks fit for a king, and sprawled, his huge leg crushing the coffee table when he lifted it to put on it, and his back muscles blocked out any and all light from the window behind. He put his arms behind his head, flexed his biceps in admiration while doing so, and said, "Now it's time to play."

A few days later, Ian was sitting at the bar when they all heard loud thumping noises. The doors creaked open, and, now with a bit more practice, Trent got to the ground and snaked his muscles in the doorway one by one, with all of the people inside as quiet, if not more quiet, than before. Fully inside, he stood to his full height, with the ceiling reasonably about five feet above him, but all of the ceiling fans were below his eyes. He now sported a grey t-shirt that showed off his muscles just as well as ever, reading Phys. Dept. XXXXXL, with one of the X's in the center of his chest, and any movement would have made his pecs hide the letter. He wore what looked light tight black biker shorts, but they had to have been made out of stronger material. He no longer was wearing boots, because his feet were huge beyond anything a regular store might make.

He strode in, and although Ian was just as surprised as everyone, he sucked in a breath and held his courage, even though Trent stood behind his barstool again, looking down at him. If Ian had turned around, he'd be giving Trent's very large member a blow job, if he could even fit it in his mouth at this point.

"What do you have to say now?" Trent asked, crossing his arms, and tearing his shirt from his huge back muscles. "Scared yet?"
Ian, knowing this might even be his famous last words, shook his head and very audibly said calmly, "I'm not afraid of small men like you."

[vlad]

I really like where this is going!!

[Mdlftr]

..Let's hope he doesn't get crushed by Trent! I suspect that Trent doesn't know how to handle someone who isn't afraid of him! Ha! I can't wait to see what happens between Trent and Ian this time around!

Great writing!

Mdlftr

[anglekindle]

Enjoying this story, can't wait for part 3.

[sexiscriptor]

so hot!! loved the macro touches, though I wish I could have seen more of trent's reaction to growing than his efforts to cope in leaving his bedroom...but still good!!

[nightcraft]

so has the writer decided not to continue this or the holidays just got in the way cause like the way story is heading hope that ian ends up growing also to match trent.