Martin Gets Big and Strong

[Londonboy]

I dipped my right hand into the cool water first ? just to test my theory. I let the milky liquid penetrate through my pores for almost a minute and then I pulled it back out. I stared intently at my fingers and was saddened that nothing changed. Then it began. I noticed things with my eyes before I even felt them. I first thought my fingernails were suddenly getting longer, but then I realized that the entire tips were elongating, and getting much thicker. In fact, the entire length of the fingers was getting much wider. That?s when the feeling ? no, actually, the pain ? started. It wasn?t excruciating, but it was definitely noticeable. I held my breath, hoping the aching would end quickly, but it didn?t. My fingers felt as hot as a fire and like someone were pulling on each of them with a pair of pliers at the same time. I immediately feared I had been wrong ? terribly wrong ? and something unfixable was happening to my hand.

But through tear-filled eyes I again noticed what was happening to that specific part of my body. By now the hand was twice the size of the other one. It was too amazing to believe. Knuckles seemed to have swollen with a thickness that reflected power and some kind of raw beauty. Each long finger on its own appeared to be as thick as a large tube of toothpaste. Either the pain was subsiding or I was just too overwhelmed by the change to notice it anymore. It looked like a hundred bees had stung me all over the back of my palm and fingers ? causing them to swell up incredibly. But it didn?t look bloated ? it looked strong and masculine, like the hands one would expect to see on a Titan or some hero like Hercules. The skin looked healthier than I ever thought possible ? almost glowing ? and thick veins pulsed in a way that could only be described as true brawn.

I was mesmerized. How could a mere hand look so vigorous and so strong? I began to see why some people found a big manly paw such a huge turn-on. The foreign thing held up in the air was attached to my body ? I could actually feel the blood pumping into that part of me ? but I had been so small and weak looking all my life that I could not comprehend appearing this powerful in something so common. There was a jagged stone ? a little larger than a softball ? on the ground nearby. Without even thinking about it I reached over and grabbed it. I was surprised, yet again, to see that my now larger hand easily enveloped the clump of rock. As a matter of fact it did, indeed, look like I was wearing a baseball mitt and was simply retrieving a grounder. My brain somehow knew instinctively to squeeze the stone slowly. My fingers tightened and I was shocked to find that they weren?t stopped by what I thought would certainly be hardness. It was as if there was nothing in my hand. I watched as the stone desperately tried to adapt to the mounting pressure and then fragments of it began to break away as my fingers easily moved inward. The stone was no match for my new hand. Dust blew into the air as the rock basically imploded ? simply from my powerful squeezing. I flattened my palm and saw the damage I had done ? easily reducing the rock to a small amount of fragments and what looked like sand.

It had been nothing to crush a large stone. I was staring at my huge hand, the proof there in the dust, but my mind was having trouble understanding what had just happened. Sure my fingers looked ten times larger and much stronger than what they had only ten minutes ago, but that still didn?t explain how I had squeezed solid rock as if it had been something as light and delicate as a soap bubble. My body was on fire with energy and excitement ? probably because of an increased amount of testosterone created simply from my hand ballooning to its new size. I made a fist and marveled at how intimidating it looked now that my hand was such an insane size. I looked at the thick fingers, still with pieces of the destroyed stone clinging to them, and started to dream about how much untested strength actually existed there. I got the feeling that a punch to the side of a building could bring the entire thing down or that I could create a large crater just by pummeling my big bazooka fist into the ground. These just seemed to be facts that my brain now accepted ? previously far-fetched fantasies were now a reality.

I stared at the dark hairs that had not been on my knuckles or the back of my hand ten minutes ago, but were now thick and strong looking - to match the enormous thing they were attached to. What was it about man fur that fascinated me so? My fingers actually looked even thicker than just a few seconds before ? exuding so much power now that I took it for granted that I should be able to destroy stones with one squeeze. It was a hand that should have been attached to some colossal strong man who caused the surrounding ground to vibrate when we walked ? not some hundred and twenty pound guy that could barely take three flights of stairs without wheezing. The thing was now wider than a large frying pan and I knew I could easily palm two basketballs in it without any problem. It was a hand that was so big that most people would wet themselves from thoughts of the huge penis that would come with the body attached. I laughed a little thinking about the short Vienna sausage between my legs at that time ? but I was beginning to realize that would change soon enough.

I started fantasizing about the things I could do with my new weapon ? easily demolish padlocks, bend back any metal door with little effort, or punch a hole through anything, not even breaking a sweat. I longed to try other feats of strength with my new mitt, but the idea of submerging the rest of my body in the water kept me in my place. The fun and games could come later. I wanted to see other parts of my body grow to the same proportions as my fingers. If my hand was this gigantic just from dipping it in the water, I wondered how big the rest of me would get. I could feel my heart beating through my chest against the ground as I lay beside the pool.

I had been searching for this particular place in the mountains for years. My great, great grandfather had written about it in one of his many diaries. It was cryptic writing, but I had studied his books for so long that I had slowly begun to understand what all the secret codes meant ? learning that the explosion of an illegal moonshine still up in backwoods of the east Tennessee mountains had miraculously created something much more powerful than a fountain of youth. His accident had produced a pool for muscle growth. I thought it was surely some drunken foolishness at first, but then I saw my first picture of the man. He was the blacksmith of the small town fifteen miles from where I was now and the picture proved that his size was mind-boggling. He obviously stood about six foot ten or eleven inches and was wider than two big men put together. It was clear he wore only overalls because they were the only things that would fit him. In most of the pictures he made other adults around him seem to be the size of elementary kids. That?s when I started to take the gibberish in his diaries a little more seriously. And when I finally found a picture of him as a young man ? only about a year before the one of him in the overalls ? I started to read his writings closer than ever. He appeared to be even smaller than me in the earlier picture and I knew there was no way that a man could grow that much in nine months. There were dates written on the back stating the day and year of each picture.

I had been small all my life ? the epitome of the ninety-pound weakling. I didn?t break one hundred until my senior year in high school. I don?t have some terrible story of being bullied or picked on, as a matter of fact I was pretty popular, but my own desires were what haunted me the most. I tried every get big scheme, every protein powder, and ever imaginable exercise regime ? but to no avail. I could get fit, but I couldn?t get big. I could get healthy, but I couldn?t get strong. And to top if all off, even before puberty hit I realized I was attracted to boys . . . well, not really boys ? no, I was attracted to men. The bigger the man the bigger the attraction ? that was my internal motto. As I grew older I slowly learned terms for my orientation ? gay, homosexual, cocksucker. You would think that a boy growing up in east Tennessee would be messed up for life when he figured out he liked men, but not me. I took to it like a duck in water. I didn?t wear a neon sign or anything, but I wasn?t shy about making it clear I was different. The one sad part of my story is that my father didn?t care for different, so he basically stopped acknowledging my existence when I was eleven. My mother made up for his lack of intimacy, but she didn?t baby me at all. I was a well-adjusted, only sometimes neurotic, teenager and young adult.

I spent most of my free time trying to find the moonshine pool my great grandfather had accidentally made. It wasn?t until my grandmother ? the older man?s daughter in law ? gave me a diary that had never been shown to anyone else. She gave it to me on my twenty-seventh birthday ? just about a month ago. I received it as a gift. She told me it was time I knew the truth, since she was aware I had been studying a lot about my genealogy and, more specifically, about my great, great grandfather. The journal told me two important facts that would change my life forever ? one, my grand father, my father?s father, had a huge falling out with his father when he was a young man. It had something to do with a big secret in my family that was never discussed, not even in the diaries. Something happened between the two men after my great, great grandmother passed away and we would probably never know what it was. The second revelation dealt directly with the part of the story I was investigating. This new diary told the exact location of the supposed pool. I was amazed to find out that my family still owned the land where the pool was located ? about a hundred acres of deep forest. It took me three weekends to find the place. I came up every day I didn?t work and searched the land. It was difficult to make my way through all the vegetation, but today I stumbled upon this small hidden field with a pool totally protected by tall shrubbery and low hanging limbs of intense trees. I almost missed the place, but everything seemed a little too neat and planned to be caused by Mother Nature. I forced my way through heavy bushes and found what I had dreamed of for so long ? my great, great grandfather?s pool.

The huge hand attached to my skinny arm now told me that the dream was actually a reality. I wiggled my thick fingers and was stunned at how the things could actually look so muscular. How was that possible? Who knew you could flex fingers and actually make them bulge like the biceps of some bodybuilder. I was mesmerized by something that was clearly attached to me, but seemed like it should be on someone else. Even my fingernails looked super healthy and perfect ? and then there was the dark hair. This is what probably thrilled me the most. If my knuckles and the back of my hand were this hairy from dipping in the pool then I couldn?t wait to see what would happen to my chest, my stomach, and my legs after they got their turn. There was only one thing that thrilled me more than huge muscled men and that is huge hairy muscled men. It was an obvious sign of virility and machismo, in my opinion. Hairy muscles covered in sweat could bring me to my knees ? and not for the reason you are thinking ? quicker than anything. I just fell apart when a Herculean guy took off his shirt to reveal cascading rows of gorgeous man fur. And don?t even get me started on what facial hair did to my libido. We?ll save that for another time. Right now, all I could think about was dipping another part of my body into the pool.

[Mad Dog]

Very interesting and creative!

[arpeejay]

More dipping, please! :-)

xoxo

Richard

[musclemonkey]

What a cool idea! Keep it up!

[no name]

Hey Londonboy,

Seriously: I can't wait for this story to continue. Thanks for posting it!

Cheers,
no name

[portamivia]

Yeah yeah yeah this is horribly hot. But where's my new Stack chapter? We'll not let you get too distracted from that story.

[mlbjock]

What a nice idea. How do you always come up with such interesting plot lines?

[Londonboy]

mlbjock - I hope this isn't too crude, but, usually, a certain part of my body guides me. If it stimulates that region then I usually follow my instincts. I really hope that's not too much information.

portamivia - I promise not to forget Stack. Really. But knowing what you like in stories, I think you're really going to love where this tale about Martin goes.

Here's to (as arpeejay put it) more dipping!

[imfit]

Why not just take a plunge into the pool?

[nvb2]

Originally Posted by imfit

Why not just take a plunge into the pool?

If there's one thing I've noticed about Londonboy's writings is that he likes to take things nice and slow. He's such a tease!

Thanks for sharing more of your fantastic writing, Londonboy.

(Im)Patiently yours,

nvb2

[nipcub]

Wow, what a great beginnng!

[cutlerfan]

Wonderful beginning! The descriptions are so specific and erotic without being overdone! The story seems to flow easily and yet stimulate a person's imagination! Looking forward to more!