Spartan Wing - chapter 3

[a_lost_prophet]

<< part 2

12:25
He stood near naked in the hallway, fumbling with the shrunken cloths bundled against his pecs. Taking one piece, he held it against his body. This must have been some joke, he thought, there too small to be the clothes he wore that morning, to the point of comical and stage. He wondered if they have been switched with extra-smalls during the workout, but now wasn’t the time...naked in the hallway. He dropped everything to the floor and rummaged for his jean. As hard as he tried to force it, he couldn’t fit them around his calves. Tugging at the denim, he heard it strain and tear as he pulled and pulled, trying to at least bring it close to his knees. Glancing up and down the corridor it was surprisingly quiet. Seem as the day went there were fewer and fewer other guys about. Reaching for the tee, he easily pulled it over his head but that was as far as it would go, the dark blue top, now looked like a scarf, against his massive traps, a mountain of muscle which swallowed his neck, the tee couldn’t even stretch far enough to roll over his cannonball delts. Pulling it off, Duncan tried arm first, but like the calves, the forearms were struck in the sleeve, the narrow rim of fabric was chocked only inched past the wrist.
He was ready to give up trying to get dressed, maybe the torn boxers were enough to hide, and the tee was a lost cause. Maybe if he tore the legs off the jeans they could fit as a short, but then again if they couldn’t fit around his calves they stood no chance in hell squeezing around his quads. Clothes in hand, Duncan wondered down, following the signs to the caf?.
Down the sun bleached corridors he came to a side of the spa where the light shone blindly though the glass panel wall. In the centre of the large room was a wide square counter, seats around the edge and more stools and high raised tables were scattered around. There were a few other men there, like Duncan, down to small trunks or Speedos. In the centre counter was an impromptu kitchen, small fridges and ovens, hobs and boxes of food, with counters surrounding it in a square, while the massive chef, down to his trunks and a wide apron tied to his tapered waist, chopped away at fruit. Even hunched over the chopping board he was over six feet tall with extractor fans and hanging pots places especially high above his head. The other men stopped talking every so often to get a glace of Duncan, watching and wondering why the new boy slowly crept. As they were down to Speedos and jocks they thought nothing of the tattered loin cloth Duncan dangling to pairs of massive thighs.
He stepped behind a seat across the counter from the chef, the place reminded him of some sushi bar, must have had the same idea.
“Take a seat” the chef said, deep voice almost sounded like the earth rumbling as he his head was still looking down, chin pursed against two massive solid pecs, “Name please?” he asked reaching to the far side of the counter but not needing to take a step closer to reach the clipboard.
“Erm...Duncan Michales,”
“Full board, all food is covered,” replied the chef as he read off the board, “I’m Toby. What can I get ya?”
“Erm,” Duncan stammered as he looked around “is there like a menu?”
“Not here, where did you just come from?” Toby asked. Duncan just stared at him, the chiselled jaw and black stubble, a young looking guy but must have been working out since before puberty, like Jake, to be the massive behemoth he is.
“The gy-“
“Jake sent ya?” he interjected
“Err, yea he did,”
“Got ya,” he took the fruit he was cutting and threw them in the blender, “not allergic to anything are ya?”
“Shellfish,” he replied sheepishly. Turning around, the restaurant had almost emptied, all the swimwear models had left bar except the two Duncan had walked past on the way in. Closer now, he could see them clearly, they were more muscular than he had first noticed them from the corner of his eye, their bodies, every limb and fibre was fuller. Might have been the glare from the windows, he dismissed, it’s wasn’t like they had ballooned out in the short walk from the hallway to the table.
“That’s cool I don’t serve any here.” Add four scoops of powder and another four of ice cream, before throwing the lid on for a quick blitz. From under the counter he pulled out a tall glass, must have held more than a pint and was the same the other guys were drinking from. Pouring it out, the thick pale cream mixer went to the top, a small drop slowly dripped down as Toby failed to empty the jug. “Post workout shake, you’re going to need that after a session with Jake”
“Thanks, is this stuff safe, I mean no roids or anything?” the chasm echoed as Toby laughed.
“Nah you got a mixture of whey and isolate protein powder, fruit for something natural and some antioxidants and the ice cream is made here, virtually fat free to cool you off.” Listening to it Duncan gorged on the drink, uncontrollably he had noticed he finished it by the time Toby finished describing it.
“Oh” he said disappointedly, looking back at his empty glass, but more of the pale cream was poured in. Toby blitz together another jug and left it on the table.
“Need some lunch too?” the chef asked picking up a grill pan from off the hob, Duncan with a mouthful of the protein shake nodded hungrily. Three greaseless and grilled chicken breasts were tossed out of the pan and onto a chopping board, sliced up, with salad and sauce, served in the biggest wrap Duncan had seen, he looked at the huge brick of protein and ravenously bit into it. He could barely get his hands around the wrap, or his mouth around his thickness, hungrily he gnawed away at it. Looking around the restaurant the two guys he spotted early had left, in their place were another two guys, larger and rounder, massive muscles in comparisons to the two sleek men before, abs jutting out as far as their pecs...but their faces looked similar and they were wearing the same trunks, standing, talking in the same spot, as they both downed their smoothies.
“Good first session then?” Toby asked grilling a steak, Duncan just nodded with a mouthful of the smoothie, Duncan hadn’t realised he had finished his third glass of protein shake as Toby kept pouring from the jug. He felt energy return to his limb, first trickling down his throat and ending as it flowed through his veins, soaking in the muscles. He reached for a napkin to wipe the cold cream which dribbled down his chin onto his swollen pecs.
“Full body session,” Duncan finally managed to reply, he turned back to his chicken wrap to find he had reduced it to crumbs. He didn’t recognise his own hands as he had tried to reach for the phantom wrap, huge things with thick vascular forearms, he blinked again, it was surreal how much bigger he was after one workout, but twice now, after one meal. He clenched his fists, slowly moving his fingers, and watching his ripped forearms flex and burst out against the bone.
Toby pulled the plate away and replaced it with steak and roasted vegetables before Duncan could blink. A fourth jug was emptied in his glass. He was finding it harder to move, arms feeling heavy and weighing him down, the affects of the workout. His body started to feel sore but swollen, looking down at himself having finished devouring the next three steaks; his body had ballooned out again. Massive orbs of muscles around his shoulders, pecs reaching out jutting forward after the bench presses, beyond his nipples he could see his gut, a round stomach full of food being eight solid blocks of abs. The space between him and the table felt tighter as his body grew, rising up against his chair, his quads felt trapped wedged against the table.
“Roasted salmon” Toby announced, placing another plate of food in front of Duncan, he licked his lips, giving back into insatiable and uncontrollable hunger, the freakishly long two foot fish was skinned boned and gutted, nothing left but the blight red flesh. Ravenously he stabbed it with the fork and raised the whole piece to bite into. Exhausted and feeling heavy, just hunched forward as he devoured his meal like a beast before a bowl.
Toby poured another glass of the strawberry smoothie, “why don’t you go see Ben, you must feeling pretty knotted after the workout.”
Duncan was about to reply with some non-committal as he focused on feeding himself but as he turned back to his fork was licked cleaned.

[5’9’’, 244 lbs, 22%, 6.5’’]

part 4 >>

[DarkPhoenix]

Great part!!! Love it and especially the "clothing-problem"!

[Greggrth]

Nice Keep it up!