After Massium: Two More

[jman250]

After Massium: Two More

"I'm telling you, it's all true," Ned insisted.

"Bull."

Grant rolled his eyes. Lying on the tattered yellow couch that dominated Ned's tiny living room, he stretched and yawned. The motion tugged his tight white t-shirt up over his lower abs, showing off just a glimpse of treasure trail. As he expected, Ned's eyes locked on the span of tanned skin before darting away.

"It's not bull." Ned folded his arms and turned back to the window.

"Sure it is. Let's look at your evidence so far," Grant said, twisting into a position somewhere between sitting and lying. "The character's name is Zack. Your next door neighbor--"

"Former next door neighbor," supplied Ned.

"Right. Your former next door neighbor's name is Zack. That does not mean that some crazy story you found on MGS is true. I mean, listen to what you're saying here."

Ned glowered. "You didn't see them. I did."

"You saw them grow. Really?" Grant fixed Ned with a level stare.

"No, I saw--look, Zack was about my size, right?"

Grant shrugged. "Sure, I don't remember. Little shorter than me, I guess. So yeah, about your size."

The comment made Ned's frown deepen just a bit. Grant suppressed the urge to smile. It didn't seem to bother Ned that he was so much weaker than his friend, but he constantly seemed to be looking for ways to even out Grant's meager height advantage: shoes with thick soles, standing straighter--a mutual friend had even told Grant that she'd seen Ned taking yoga classes at the gym.

He liked being bigger than Ned. For a brief time in 9th grade, Ned had been a few inches taller than he was, but Grant had shot past him and put on muscle during his time in football. Neither of them were very big, but Grant had kept up his lifting after high school, and had an athlete's physique. Ned on the other hand, was slim as a stick.

"So how'd he manage to destroy the house, then?" Ned pulled back the window curtains.

Grant cursed and threw up his arm against the sunlight streaming in. "Dude, I know, the place next door is a fucking mess. It's been that way for almost a year. Doesn't mean some dude destroyed it."

"There were two of them. Zack and that other guy, from the wrestling team. You know, with the--"

"Yeah, there was another guy in the story," Grant said. "That still doesn't make it real."

"I saw them," Ned insisted. "They tore the fucking place apart. They were huge, you have no idea. And totally stoned out of their minds, I mean, one of them was talking about how he was eating the universe or some shit. It was terrifying."

"Man, those meetings with the counselor didn't help you at all, did they?" Grant shook his head. "It was a dream. Zack's house got broken into. His parents decided to move away."

"And the other guy?" Ned's eyes were sharp as knives. "He moved away too, without telling anyone, and you don't find that even the least bit suspicious?"

Grant scrubbed a hand through his thick black hair. "It's suspicious, sure. It doesn't mean they turned into huge muscle dudes. It's just some dude's jackoff fantasy on an Internet forum, Ned. Let it go."

"I've been letting it go for almost two years! Look, I'm convinced it's true. You've read the story. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

Grant smirked. "I got turned off after they became giant muscle gods and ate the universe, personally."

"Okay, that part was pretty bad. But like I said, he was hallucinating about it, so--but look, what's the worst that could happen? We find nothing, so we go home and I forget about this shit. And as a best case, maybe we both get huge!"

Grant sighed. His friend had definitely gone off the deep end, that was for certain. But he seemed so certain of himself. And the thought of getting stronger, taller, bigger all over definitely appealed to Grant. If there was any chance that Ned was right...

"So let's say I believe you."

"You do?" Ned perked up.

"No, but let's say I did. What do you want me to do?"

Ned bit his lip. "I wanna check out the house."

"Fine," said Grant. "I still think you're crazy, you know. But man, that would be hot, getting big."

"Yeah, we could both--" Ned started.

"I mean, just imagine if I could get these babies to twice their size," Grant said, flexing his considerable biceps. Small tennis balls of muscle popped out of his arms. Ned stared at his friend, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Wow, you've been working out," said Ned.

Grant surveyed his friend's physique. "You should, too."

Ned's cheeks flushed red. "Anyway, when do you want to go over there?"

"I'm free tonight," Grant said.

"Tonight, then."

Grant managed to bestir himself from Ned's couch around noon. He used Ned's home gym and went through a killer chest and biceps workout. He found himself energized, attacking the weights with a savage glee he seldom found in workouts any more. Absurd as Ned's delusions were, he could not suppress waves of anticipation at the thought of what they might find that night.

By the end of his workout, his skin glistened with sweat and his chest was so pumped it looked like it might tear through his tanktop. If only, he thought. He raised his arms into a flex. They were definitely on their way past fifteen inches, he knew, but in his mind's eye they were eighteen or nineteen, maybe twenty.

On the drive home, he could barely think for the anticipation building in his head. While showering before work, his mind filled with images of his muscles growing, swelling, straining against one another. He did not, he decided, want to be merely buff. He would get huge. Inhuman.

The thought got him hard. He'd finally get some of the respect he deserved from the big guys at the gym. He savored the thought of their envious eyes on his broad, v-shaped back as he strode past. One of his hands traveled down to his thick, cut cock and began to stroke all seven inches as his moans echoed off the shower walls.

And then there was Ned. The way his smaller friend's eyes lit up when Grant showed off his muscles would be nothing compared to how little Ned would respond if Grant got huge. He imagined the worshipful looks Ned threw his way magnified a hundred times, a thousand.

Very real images rose to supplement the fantasy. The first time they had jerked off together, back in high school, Ned's soft, small hand making Grant's better-than-average cock look huge as it pumped up and down. The first time he'd let Ned suck him off. They'd never gone farther than that, but that was okay, because Ned's tongue was oh-so-talented.

All at once, he hovered on the brink of orgasm. For a perilous moment, he felt as if he were on a rollercoaster, ramping up to the zenith of its track. Then, the rush of pleasure tore through him, and gouts of thick white cum coated the wall of his shower. His eyes lost focus, his knees wobbled, and he let out a blissful groan.

He almost ended up late for work.

The hours before closing passed slowly. Clumps of customers wandered in and out of the coffee shop where he worked, a parade of faces he barely noticed through the haze of muscle and growth in his mind. He tried to remind himself that Ned was totally crazy, that there was no mysterious secret to muscle growth hidden in the ruined house next to his, that he wasn't really going to grow. It didn't work.

He drove too fast on the way over to Ned's slate-shingled house and practically sprinted up the walk. He was just about to knock on the front door when it swung open. There stood Ned, a gleeful, almost fey look on his face.

"Excited?" he asked.
Grant swallowed his anticipation and responded with a lazy, "Sure."

Inside, Ned had laid out several flashlights, a backpack, a box of protein bars, and some bottled waters.

"Really?" Grant glanced down at the array of gear on the table, then back up at his friend.

Ned shrugged. "Be prepared."

"We're going next door, not climbing Everest," said Grant. He punched his friend in the shoulder.

"Ow." Ned rubbed his skinny arm. "Don't do that."

"Come on, take a flash light, pussy," Grant said, grabbing one.

He did not wait to see if Ned followed him out the front door, although he did hear his friend's shoes squeaking across the grass behind him as he made his way across Ned's well-maintained lawn and on to the high, untended grass of the neighboring house's. Grant scanned the exterior with a skeptical eye, his hopes sinking.

Months without occupants had not been kind to the exterior of Zack's former home. The white paint on the fa?ade was peeling to reveal silvery, splintered wood. Something had chewed a hole in the edge of the warped garage door. Weeds sprouted up through cracks in the approaching sidewalk, swaying as silhouettes in the night breeze.

Together, they crept up the walk to the front door. Dead plants slumped over the edges of the pots to either side. Cobwebs dripped down from the overhanging eaves, their industrious builders weaving away in the night.

"Never noticed how creepy this place was," Ned said.

Grant snorted. "Man up, bitch."

"Okay, smart guy, how are we going to get inside, then?"

Grant gave the door a nudge with his foot. It swung open with a creak and he stepped inside, throwing Ned a cocky smirk. Silvery dust in the entryway swirled up in the rush of night air. Grant turned on his flashlight.

The state of disrepair visible from without could not have prepared Grant for the mess within. It looked as if some great beast had been let loose within the house. Doors were torn off their hinges and lay in splintered remains on the mildewed carpet, the stench of which tickled at Grant's nose. One of the walls boasted a gaping hole the size of a great fist, although the thought of a fist that could punch clear through the beams beneath made Grant shiver.

"Wow." Ned's voice echoed in the bare living room.

Grant swung his flashlight toward the source of the voice. Ned stood by the stairs, which mostly appeared to be in good condition. The wrought iron banister tracing their rise to the second floor was a different story. The metal had been wrenched out of place and twisted. In one place, it looked as if something had squeezed the bars supporting the banister so hard that they'd been crumpled inward.

"Wow," Grant agreed.

"You still think I'm crazy?" Ned folded his arms over his sunken chest.

"Of course. But you might be right about this place. Something definitely went on here. But it's been almost a year, and it looks like the place was stripped clean. We're not going to find anything."

"Then leave," Ned said. The note of challenge in his voice was alien. He never stood up to Grant.

"We'll give it a quick look."

Ned nodded and scampered up the stairs. The beam of his flashlight created an off-white halo on the ceiling as he moved through the upper story. Grant let out a sigh and made his way around in the darkness.

The house had been nice, especially for this area. A spacious kitchen segued into a dining room and a den with two louvered doors--both shattered--that led out onto a wooden deck. Most of the furniture remained, albeit in states of disrepair. It looked like Zack's family had taken what they could and left the rest: broken plates, torn clothing, a steel weight that had been bent nearly in half.

There weren't any tanks of magical gas, though.

Ned's footsteps echoed down the stairs, and the slender young man hastened into the den a few seconds later, his features ghostly in the flashlight's radiance. Ghostly, and disheartened. He shook his head.

"Nothing up there."

"Yeah, me either. Didn't the story say the tank they'd used was empty?"

Ned's head bobbed. "I was hoping it was wrong. It didn't mention anything about all the destruction in here either. Not to mention that they clearly didn't eat the universe, because, well."

"Yeah."

They both peered around the dark den. The old house was silent but for the occasional sounds of settling. Grant sighed.

"You sure we can't get any online?"

Ned waved the question away. "Don't think I didn't check. If the company ever existed, it sure doesn't now. Well, I guess we looked, at least."

Grant held up a hand. "Hold on, now. We haven't checked everywhere. If you had something really special, where would you hide it?"

"A box, I guess."

"No, it's too big for a box. And you really don't want anyone to find it."

Ned bit his lip. "I guess you could... uh."

"You could bury it."

"The backyard," Ned said, perking up once more.

Getting the back door open was more difficult than Grant had imagined. The wood was either warped or bent out of place. Both he and Ned had to pull with all their strength to pry the door open, and when it came free, the entire frame gave way at one corner.

Grant swore.

"At least we got something out of this," Ned said.

"Like what?" Grant asked flatly.

"Splinters."

Grant punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Ned shouted. "Stop doing that, I'm serious!" He rubbed the injured shoulder.

"Quit being such a girl. Come on."

It was much easier to get the glass doors leading out onto the patio open. Still sweating from the recent exertion, Grant stepped out into the chill of night. His footsteps resounded like drumbeats on the wood of the old deck. A small ramp led down to the yard.

There, plain as day, was a section of the lawn where no grass grew. The dirt there had been disturbed and had never settled back into place. A triumphant grin spread across Grant's face.

"Buried it. I knew it all along," he said.

"I thought you thought I was crazy," came Ned's sullen reply.

"Go get a shovel," Grant said.

It took a few minutes for Ned to return. In the meantime, Grant leaned up against the railing of the deck and fantasized. All he'd ever wanted was so close at hand. He'd finally be big. He'd never have to look up to anyone again.

"Shovel," Ned said from behind him. He'd brought two.

"You think anyone will hear us?" Grant's gaze swept over the neighboring houses. All of the windows were dark.

"They're probably asleep."

Grant led the way down into the yard. That no one had noticed the mound of displaced dirt baffled him. Then again, with all of the foreclosures in town, perhaps it was just a matter of time before the banks got around to reoccupying Zack's home.

He pushed his shovel into the dirt, stepping on the back edge to sink it deeper, then lifted. The first shovelful of dirt went flying behind him. Ned took the second, and he the third, and so on. First they managed to make a shallow depression, but that depression quickly grew into a hole three feet deep.

By that time, they were both drenched in sweat. Grant removed his t-shirt, so that he was wearing only a tight black tank top. Ned's white tee was drenched in sweat, and it clung to his unimpressive frame like a scarecrow's clothing. Every once in a while, Grant caught Ned snatching glimpses at his tightly corded arms as he dug. He repressed a smile at that, and dug onward.

Metal struck metal with a resounding clang.

"Wait," cried Ned.

"I'm not deaf, dummy. I heard it too," Grant said. "Let's be careful. Get your light on me."

He got down on his knees and felt around in the damp earth. His fingers brushed a smooth, cold plane of metal. They came away grimy and wet and smelling of rust. Squinting in the flashlight, he could see engraved letters, partially rusted over:

MAS---M

"Holy shit, it's real," he breathed. Louder, he said, "We have to dig around it."

By the time they managed to get the object loose, the first hints of dawn were painting the horizon a bruised pink. Grant pulled as hard as he could, and it came free with a loud sucking sound. It was a small air tank, like one might fill a bicycle tire with. The thing had once been painted fire engine red. Now, fingers of corrosion spread over the sides. Its hose was still attached, and there was a tiny wheel at the top to control the pressure.

"Careful, it doesn't look too good," Ned said.

"Don't you think I know that?" Grant hefted his prize. It was heavier than he expected. Almost full. His fingers tingled with excitement.

"We should probably get it back to my place before it gets light out," said Ned. "I'll get the shovels."

Grant nodded absently. The short hose attached to the tank was disgusting, its head a mass of red-orange rust, but it was all he could do not to open the tank and siphon some off. He followed behind Ned, clutching his prize. Ned opened the door to his house and let Grant, who was now laboring under the weight of the tank, into the house first.

"Don't put it down on my... carpet," Ned said, just as Grant deposited the filthy tank on the carpet.

"Sorry. We should probably clean it off, yeah?"

Ned nodded and vanished into the bathroom. A few moments later, he materialized with towels, cleaners, and a bucket. Together, they rinsed the tank off and cleansed the corroded nozzle. By the time they were finished, it still looked pretty disgusting, but decidedly less likely to give anyone tetanus.

"Okay," said Ned. "So who goes first?"

"I'll wrestle you for it."

"So you, then." Ned's voice held a sour note.

"I carried it."

Grant lifted up his tank top, exposing his solid six-pack. With his other hand, he took the hose attached to the tank and held it up. Ned stared at him, but this time, it was with amusement, not lust.

"What?" Grant dropped his shirt. "That's how they did it in the stories."

"You think you're going to put gas into your belly button and it's going to make you grow? Clearly the stories weren't that accurate. I think you're going to have to take a huff."

Grant's eyes narrowed. "What if it's poison or some shit like that?"

"I can go first if you're scared."

"No, I got it," Grant snapped. Letting out a deep breath, he put the spigot of the hose between his lips. It still tasted of cleaner. Speaking around it, he said, "Here goes nothing."

He twisted the valve handle. It did not give. Tightening his grip, he put more and more pressure on it, until his fingers felt they might break. With a creak, the handle gave, and a puff of rust flakes fell from it. More importantly, a spurt of gas flowed into Grant's mouth.

Grant breathed it in, hesitantly at first, but then with growing fervor. He savored the astringent, herbal scent of it as it played over his tongue. Then the flow abruptly cut off.

The valve was stuck again. He could not budge it, no matter how he tried or cursed. The tank still felt full, though. There had to be more in there.

He spat out the spigot. "What the heck? The fucking thing's broken."

"Grant," said Ned.

His chest felt tight with rage. "After all that work, can you believe--"

"Grant," Ned repeated.

"What is it?" Grant rounded on his smaller friend.

"You're growing, man."

Grant dropped the tank and stared down at himself. Ned was right. The feeling of tightness in his chest had been his tanktop trying to hold back the growth of his pecs. The garment had been tight when he'd put it on, but now if he took it off he'd never be able to wear it again. It fit like a second skin. His chest had only put on an inch, perhaps two, but the gains were solid muscle.

And he was still growing.

He could feel the gas, warm and alive and potent, flowing through his veins. Even that little bit was sending strength coursing down his limbs. He could feel the muscles twitching beneath his skin, expanding with every heartbeat, pushing veins into sterner relief.

The growth was not just in his muscles. He stretched his arms toward the ceiling and felt his limbs lengthen. Something else was growing, too, straining against underwear that was suddenly struggling to restrict it, boxerbriefs that had fit perfectly before, but were now taxed by large glutes and a larger package.

"Shit," he groaned.

The front of his shorts were visibly tented, a larger mound visible there than he had ever seen before. He looked at Ned--down, now, because his inch height advantage had increased to two or three--and the look of amazement on his friend's face sent ripples of satisfaction through him. It was almost worshipful.

He looked forward to seeing that look on many other faces, very soon.

The warmth was slow to dissipate, and even after it had gone, the euphoria remained. Grant felt like he could take on the world. He wanted to lift a thousand pounds, or throw a car, or climb a mountain. But Ned was talking. Whiny little Ned.

"I can't believe it," Ned said, still staring. "You grew. I mean, wow, you must be almost five ten now. And your chest, man, it looks so big, like..."

"Touch it," Grant said. One of his hands darted out and grabbed one of Ned's smaller ones. He raised it to his hard, heaving chest. Ned struggled for a second to pull his hand away, as if Grant's chest were a hot stove. His resistance faded swiftly.

"It's so hard. Like granite."

"That's not the only thing," said Grant.

He pulled Ned's hand downward, past Grant's swollen pecs, past the abs clearly visible beneath the too-tight tank top, to the bulge distending the front of his shorts. Heat washed off of the hardening package. The hand felt small on his hot, heavy meat.

Ned swallowed. "It's grown too. I can tell."

"Yeah."

Ned's twisted back toward the tank. "I guess it's my turn to--"

"Not yet," said Grant, holding his hand in place. Annoyance flared at how easily Ned had dismissed him. "I'm so fucking horny, you have no idea."

He gripped Ned's smaller hand and began rubbing it up and down over his package. Not only was it bigger than before, it felt so much more sensitive. Every caress threatened to send Grant over the edge.

"Grant, stop," said Ned, but Grant kept a grip on his friend.

He used his free hand to tug at the hem of his shorts. It was a struggle to get them down over the solid shelf of muscle his ass had become, but the effort was worth it. Eight inches of thick, veiny meat smacked his belly, leaving a swathe of precum behind as he forced Ned's hand around it.

"Feels good, doesn't it," he whispered. "Better in your mouth."

With strength that surprised even he, Grant pushed Ned to the ground. Ned opened his mouth to protest. Grant seized the opportunity, guiding his cock into the open space. Ned's eyes widened and he blurted something out.

Grant forced Ned down on his cock, slowly working his way into a rhythm. Ned had never sucked him off before, and he did not seem pleased at the prospect, but the hard lump poking out of his pants told Grant all he needed to know; all he cared to know. The feelings of pleasure emanating from his dick drowned out any thoughts of remorse or concern. He just wanted to cum.

The orgasm hit him like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of him with its intensity as it built in his balls. Luckily, he had Ned to hang on to. His skinny friend apparently sensed what was coming. He tried to pull off, his eyes growing impossibly wider. Grant held Ned's head in place with little effort as shot after shot rocketed out of him.

Only when he was finished did he release Ned. His friend fell back, choking and coughing. A part of Grant wanted to laugh at the sight of little Ned, sweating, humiliated, and spluttering. But in another portion of his mind, horror began to dawn.

"Oh, God, Ned. Ned, I'm sorry."

Ned held up a shaky hand. He stared up, the look in his eyes striding the line between fury and bliss. Grant noticed a wet spot on the front of his jeans.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ned managed. "You could've killed me!"

Grant scrubbed his hands through his hair, only dimly aware over the wash of guilt of the way his biceps jumped from his arms with the motion. It felt so good, being bigger, like every one of his muscles was a reservoir of power. And yet the guilt soured all of that.

"I swear I didn't mean--you know I wouldn't," Grant said.

"You did." Ned glared up at him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It was the gas. All of a sudden, I just--I felt like I could do anything. It's like a drug, man. It's just--ugh." His softening cock had begun to drip the last vestiges of his orgasm on the floor. "Sorry."

"You're sorry for messing up my floor," said Ned, bitterness twisting his tone. "That's what you're sorry for."

"I'm sorry for everything," Grant said.

"Go get yourself cleaned up," Ned said, gesturing broadly. "I feel like I'm going to hurl."

Grant hiked up his shorts. Although he'd grown several inches and felt like he'd doubled in size, he felt smaller than he'd ever been before as he walked to the bathroom. He flipped on the light switch. The sight awaiting him in the mirror banished any semblance of guilt from his mind.

He barely recognized the stud standing in the mirror. His growth had enhanced his natural v-shape, making his shoulders appear almost impossibly wide. Solid pectorals strained the fabric of his tank top to the limit. The shirt looked like it had been made for a child, and he was very definitely a man now. He could see eight distinct abdominals beneath the black fabric, like a cobblestone road leading down to a waspish waist.

Even soft, his bulge was prominent, a huge lump in his shorts that made it look like he'd stuffed a sock down there. He doubted he'd ever be able to wear briefs again. There was no way he'd manage to shove that much meat into such restricting clothing.

He raised an arm and flexed. He'd known his arms would look impressive, but he had not imagined the rock of muscle that exploded upward as he clenched his fist. Enmeshed in veins and so ripped that he could see the distinct heads of his biceps, it was a perfect symbol of the power he now held.

Grant stripped off his shirt and sucked in a breath at the ripped, tanned physique waiting beneath. He'd just begun another flex when he heard the thud. Silence filled the house. He paused, fixing his reflection with a thoughtful look.

"Ned? You okay?"

A groan answered from outside. He tore out of the bathroom, thoughts of cleaning himself up forgotten, and raced down the hallway, back to the living room.

Ned sat on the ground, the tank of the gas by his side. He looked woozily at Grant, spitting the spigot out as if it was an afterthought. It wriggled on the ground, hissing.

"I don't feel so good," Ned said.

"What did you do?"

Ned rolled his eyes. "Took some, dumbfuck."

"How much?"

"Some," he said. "Don't feel good. Maybe gonna hurl."

A spasm went through his scrawny form. It was like every muscle on his body flexed at the same time, bulging outward and then contracting at once. They did not quite return to their old size. Ned let out an agonized groan.

"We have to get you to a hospital," Grant said.

"Now you care," Ned slurred.

Another spasm went through him. This one sent him sprawling to the ground and tore a hoarse cry from his lips. His t-shirt rode up on his stomach in the process. Instead of the flat expanse of belly Grant expected to see, the beginnings of abs pressed out of the skin, sharpening into greater relief with every one of Ned's short, shallow breaths.

"We seriously gotta get you to the hospital, man." Despite the statement, Grant hesitated to touch his friend.

"Tell them what? Took too much Massi--ohhh!"

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, okay. Starting to feel... starting to feel good--aaah!"

Something leapt in Ned's trousers. Grant had seen Ned's cock before, and that was not Ned's cock. Ned was hung like a prepubescent. Thin, short, and unimpressive. The thing Grant saw stretched halfway down Ned's thigh, and it was still growing.

His whole body, in fact, was still growing. A tearing sound erupted from one of Ned's shoes, then the other, as his feet outgrew their confines. His widening shoulders stretched the confines of his shirt, and a pair of biceps that the old Grant would have envied filled the sleeves. Worry dawned on Grant. Just how big would Ned get?

But the spasms seemed to be subsiding. He watched in amazement as the lengthening and thickening of Ned's limbs began to slow, then stop, leaving his formerly scrawny friend a solidly athletic man. Ned let out a euphoric sigh.

"Holy shit, that was great," he said. His voice was deeper than before, more masculine, more confident. And completely unconcerned.

"You idiot," Grant said. "Could've gotten yourself killed."

"Help me up," Ned commanded. "I want to see how big I am."

He had a wild look in his eyes, one that echoed the feelings that had overwhelmed Grant when he took his dose. His smile was hard and white. Hesitantly, Grant helped his friend up, surprised by Ned's weight.

Ned stood up to his full height. "I'm almost as tall as you. Just like before." His voice held a note of disappointment. "Let's see your guns."

Caught off guard, Grant found himself obeying. He flexed his arm, and was startled at the strength of Ned's grip on the muscle. Ned showed off his own biceps, and if they were smaller than Grant's, it was not by much.

"You're right, man, I just want to fuck something right now," He started unbuttoning his trousers.
"Anything."

"Well, you're not fucking me," Grant warned.

"C'mon, man, turnabout is fair play," Ned said.

He grabbed Grant's hands and pushed him up against the wall. Grant struggled back and broke Ned's hold, only to have Ned grip him again. He shoved at his friend, but this time, Ned did not budge. The sound of tearing fabric whispered in his ears as Ned's biceps outgrew his shirt.

"Would you look at that?" Ned said. "I guess I'm still growing."

He straightened his spine, and now, to Grant's shock, he had to look *up* into Ned's eyes, which were rising higher by the second. His friend passed six feet as he watched, and his body was growing to match. The t-shirt he wore gave way abruptly as two huge shoulders exploded from it.

Now holding Grant against the wall with one huge and growing hand, Ned reached down and tore at the waistband of his pants. The button securing them broke off with a twang and went flying, and the zipper gave way with a buzz of protest.

Protruding from Ned's boxers was the biggest cock Grant had ever seen. It was easily as thick as his wrist, and almost as long as his forearm. Hard as a rock, it was drenched in precum, and it looked to be growing in time with Ned, who now stood head and shoulders taller than he.

"No, Ned. No, please," Grant whispered, but his cries sounded feeble to his own ears. His own cock was like a steel pipe, pressing painfully against his trousers.

Ned did away with those, too. All it took was one mighty tear, and Grant stood naked before his friend. He let out a whimper as Ned placed a huge paw on his shoulder and turned him toward the wall.

The head of Ned's cock spread Grant's muscled butt and rubbed against the entrance of his hole. A shudder of pleasure shot through him, soliciting a basso laugh from Ned.

"You're too short," Ned whispered in his ear. His breath was hot.

Two immense hands gripped him beneath his lats, lifting Grant from the ground and settling him on the huge cock. Pain shot through him as Ned's massive tool entered him, but that pain dissolved in a wave of blinding white pleasure as it hit something inside of him, something he'd never felt before.

"No," he moaned. "No, no."

Ned began to fuck him, slowly at first, and with growing intensity, and all of his protestations were forgotten in the haze of ecstasy drowning out his thoughts. It was as if the whole world had vanished, and he was just a blaze of pleasure to be stoked by Ned's enormous cock.

Too soon, it seemed, he felt the monster tool inside him begin to swell. His own orgasm was barely noticeable, a spark added to a bonfire, as Ned's filled him with its warmth.

He almost wept at the feeling of emptiness as Ned's dick retreated from inside of him. The sensation of movement was vague, his mind overwhelmed by what it had just experienced, but suddenly he felt something soft beneath him.

He opened his eyes. He lay on the ground, sweating, panting, trembling. A few feet away, the canister of gas awaited. With a shaking arm, his fingertips stretched toward it. With it, he could get big, too. He could show Ned who was boss.

A huge bare foot came down next to it, and one massive hand rapped on the side of the tank. A hollow sound echoed from within.

"Empty," Grant said, his voice quavering. "How can it be empty."

"Guess I forgot to close it off," Ned boomed from above. "Them's the breaks, man."

"No, no, no, no," Grant said, fingertips brushing the engraved name. "I'm the big one. Me."

"I guess," Ned mused, "things are going to have to change around here."

Story by Xyggurat

[ckam17]

love your writing.

[jsmith2300]

Agree - really really REALLY hot. A nice addition to that series! Kudos to you and Xyg!!!

[philat99]

Very enjoyable!

[Rowan]

Hot. Liked Grant's power fantasies and like that he got to live one out. Made Ned turning the tables on him all the better.

[Xyggurat]

Originally Posted by Rowan

Hot. Liked Grant's power fantasies and like that he got to live one out. Made Ned turning the tables on him all the better.

Now if only the story encouraged you to come back and write more for us. Wouldn't that be nice!

-X-

[sexiscriptor]

surprisingly enough for me, i came before the growth fucking for once. i wish i knew how big ned was by the end...just a sense of it, y'know? like "he could barely fit himself into the room, but was ready to try fitting into my ass again..." :P

i kinda saw the gas running out thing coming; if i hadn't come when i did (after grant got his wish (kinda XD)), i dunno if i'd have cum at the end or just reread grant's bit. it's odd; cuz as you know, xyg the writeful righter, i love me some growthing sex. so i'm torn. you bastard, you always do this to me :P

as I said before, you did well at expressing the characters' motivations. Heck, to be fair, I prolly coulda gotten behind that growthing sex (if there'd been more of it) if only cuzza ned's saying "now you notice". Still though, grant got me sooo happy with his dreams of monsterness and his (almost, damn you ;p) fulfilment....
~Ille

[Rowan]

Originally Posted by Xyggurat

Now if only the story encouraged you to come back and write more for us. Wouldn't that be nice!

-X-

Pfft. Have you seen my latest reviews? I totally suck. XD

[Ross_Geller]

Really loved it!!

[nnnrg]

Rowan... never believe the reviewers. They're paid to be nasty.

[Rowan]

Originally Posted by nnnrg

Rowan... never believe the reviewers. They're paid to be nasty.

Actually, most reviewers are unpaid readers who love books. They just didn't love mine.